#and even that final glance is taken from them

[okaylikeschaewon]

Debauchery: Part 1

~7.5k words, male reader, smut, Part 1 of 3

“You can go first.”

“No please, you first.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“Mina please, you’re my senior.”

“Sakura, don’t do that,” Mina groaned with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t make this formal.”

“Fine, but then just call me Kkura,” Sakura smiled, spinning the chair in Mina’s direction.

Mina stepped forward and placed her knees on the chair, leaning forward over the backrest, and pressed her mouth against Sakura’s partially opened lips.

“Oh!” Sakura gasped, taken aback by the kiss. “I…”

“Was that okay? Kkura?” Mina teased, her lips curling up in a gentle smile.

Sakura hesitated, frozen in time for a moment, before answering.

“It… was…” she finally spoke, breathing heavily with each word. “It was just so sudden. I was surprised.”

“Surprised at how much you liked it?”

“No! I mean… I did… but…” Sakura stammered frantically. “You’re still my boss.”

“Was I still your boss last weekend?” Mina teased some more, smiling gleefully.

“Mina! I thought we weren’t going to talk about that?”

“Yeah, but then you just kissed me again out of nowhere,” Mina kept up the taunting. “And you know, the way you just melted against me-”

“I didn’t melt!” Sakura began blushing profusely.

Mina smirked proudly, loving every second of Sakura’s embarrassment.

 “I can’t help but notice how much you’ve been watching me at work lately,” Mina spoke softly, getting off the chair and pushing it to the side slightly to get closer to Sakura. “Speaking of that kiss, did you feel a bit of a spark between us or was that just me?”

Sakura paused for another moment, taking a couple of deep inhales of Mina’s lavender perfume in, closing her eyes for a second before opening them back up and staring Mina in the eyes.

“Yes,” Sakura whispered back, leaning her mouth forward just slightly with pouted lips. “I did.”

“It felt like you wanted more.”

“Wanted more?”

“Do you not?” Mina’s lips curled up into a smirk again as she inched a bit closer to Sakura who still had her lips pouted ever so slightly. “If you want, we could try it again… just to confirm.”

“This is why you invited me over, isn’t it?” Sakura whispered, tilting her head a bit and moving even closer to Mina.

“Maybe it is.”

“Then hurry up and kiss me.”

Mina - almost literally - jumped at the opportunity and pressed her mouth forward against Sakura once more, kissing her deeply and tenderly, gently pressing her tongue into Sakura’s mouth.

“Am I interrupting something?” you chuckled as you entered the room.

“No,” Mina edged back, licking her lips. “Kkura here was just about to show me how good she is at FPS games.”

“I’m really not that good,” Sakura stammered, cheeks bright red.

“Then let’s just say fuck the games for now,” Mina cupped Sakura’s face with both hands and kissed her again.

This time, however, Sakura quickly pulled away. Her eyes were almost as big as her face, beautiful and round, as worry took over and she glanced in your direction.

“Don’t worry so much,” Mina giggled before giving Sakura’s ass a little slap. “You’re not getting in trouble for anything.”

“I don’t understand…” Sakura mumbled, unphased by the slap, eyes darting between Mina and you. “He knows about last weekend?”

“You mean when you kissed me at the work mixer? Or do you mean the part where you ended up taking me to the roof? Yeah, he knows,” Mina laughed at Sakura’s mortified reaction. “Kkura relax, just forget about me being your boss for the night. You had no issue last weekend.”

“Mina told me that same night,” you walked over to the two girls. “You know, you’re not even the first girl she’s messed around with from work.”

“And oh my God you gave me such a good time,” Mina moaned softly before pulling the chair back and forcing Sakura to sit in front of you. “Sit. I think it’s only fair that I give you what you want as a thank you.”

“What I want?” Sakura stammered as she sat down and looked up at you. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you were pretty drunk, but do you not remember what you told me?” Mina asked while leaning over the back of the chair and kissing Sakura on the cheek. “Don’t be shy about it, we both think your little crush on my boyfriend is super cute.”

“Crush? I don’t have…” Sakura’s voice trailed off as she began piecing everything together.

“What do you remember?” you asked as you unbuckled your pants. “From that night, after you ate my girlfriend’s ass, do you remember what you said?”

“Don’t be crass,” Mina slapped your arm, glaring at you. “Ignore him,” Mina turned her attention back to Sakura. “Kkura sweetie, you asked for something pretty specific that night. Do you remember?”

“I take it this was all part of your plan?” Sakura chuckled nervously, her eyes fixated on your unbuttoned belt.

“Maybe,” Mina smiled and kissed Sakura’s cheek again. “Tell me, my sweet Kkura, do you still want to suck his cock?”

Sakura’s body jolted at the comment before she took a moment and began to relax.

“Now who’s being crass?” you chuckled under your breath.

“I assume I said that when I was drunk?” Sakura asked with a newfound calmness before pausing to look you straight in the eyes before continuing her response to Mina’s question. “Right after I ate your ass I bet?”

“That’s right,” you answered for Mina while placing one hand on the back of Sakura’s head and pulling her a bit closer to your crotch. “She told me you’re good with your mouth.”

“Maybe I am,” Sakura smirked, full of confidence now despite her blushed cheeks screaming embarrassment. “Want to find out?”

“Fuck the back-and-forth,” you groaned, pushing your hips forward a bit more. “I’ve been thinking about your sexy little mouth ever since Mina told me you wanted to suck my cock.”

Sakura smiled wide as she began undoing your pants and lowering them to your ankles. As soon as she released your cock from your underwear, it smacked against her face, making her flinch before she opened her mouth with pure desire behind her eyes.

“She’s practically drooling,” Mina laughed while grabbing Sakura’s hair and wrapping it into a makeshift bun. “I told you it was big.”

“Holy fuck,” Sakura mumbled, gripping your cock and stroking the full length slowly, taking her time to appreciate your size.

“Come on,” you moaned, grabbing Sakura’s wrist, guiding your cock towards her lips.

Sakura opened her mouth wide, welcoming your cock as you pushed into her throat. You grabbed her hand and pulled it off your shaft so that you could go deeper, pressing your cock as far down as you could. Once you felt too much resistance, you pulled back out, leaving Sakura gasping for air.

“It’s so fucking big,” Sakura croaked, catching her breath. “I can’t-”

“That’s what you wanted,” Mina giggled before reaching down and lifting up Sakura’s shirt. “Fuck, I love your tits. I'm honestly a bit jealous.”

Sakura moaned gracefully as Mina began playing with her chest, still staring at your cock with her lips slightly parted, waiting for you to make the next move. Her eyes were begging for you, as if she had this hunger that could only be lifted by your cock.

“They’re beautiful alright,” you mumbled, watching your girlfriend playing with Sakura’s tits as you stepped forward again and grabbed Sakura’s head with both hands. “You have no idea how much Mina has been raving about them these last few days.”

Sakura couldn’t respond before you pushed your cock into her mouth again. You didn’t even bother with any caution this time - not that you showed much the first time. Regardless, you pushed your cock forward about halfway into Sakura’s mouth before using your hands to maneuvre her head and fuck her senseless. You could see her body going limp as you went deeper and deeper, thrusting your cock hard while pulling her face into your body.

“You look so fucking good right now,” you moaned, tilting your head back, scrunching up your face.

Sakura continued to struggle on your cock before Mina finally saved her, giving her a chance to breathe by pulling her mouth off your cock. As Sakura gasped for air, Mina turned the chair around and began making out with her. Mina sucked up all of the drool dripping from Sakura’s lips after the face-fucking she just took.

“I could seriously fuck that pretty little face all night, I’d never get bored of it,” you commented casually, stroking back Sakura’s hair behind her ears while Mina moved down and began sucking on her tits. “But my girlfriend has other plans.”

“Oh?” Sakura looked down at Mina who had just released her nipple from her mouth. “And what would that be?”

“You don’t get to ask questions,” Mina hissed softly with an icy undertone that made your cock twitch. “In fact, no more talking either, you’ll just be doing whatever I tell you, okay?”

“Yes boss.”

“‘Boss’,” Mina smirked coyly. “I like that.”

Then, after giving Sakura’s tits a little slap, Mina pressed Sakura’s mouth against your balls. Instinctively, as they entered her mouth, Sakura took hold of your shaft and began stroking you gently - the girl needed no instruction.

“Good girl,” Mina smiled proudly as she began stripping off all her clothes, watching Sakura suck your balls proudly.

Once Mina had fully stripped down, she bent over at her hips and put your cock into her mouth. The view of Mina sucking your cock with Sakura licking your balls nearly made you blow in an instant, yet by some higher power you managed to hold on - at least for now. The two girls worked your cock in unison a bit more before swapping positions. Now Mina, who had dropped down to her knees, was licking your balls while Sakura was sucking your cock.

“You girls are going to make me fucking cum,” you moaned, shutting your eyes tight.

Mina released your balls with a little pop before joining Sakura on your shaft. Sakura, taking Mina’s lead, began licking your shaft up and down, both girls working in tandem to rub their tongues against your cock.

“I’m fucking serious,” you gasped as Sakura started kissing your shaft over and over.

“Then do it,” Mina whispered, her warm breath hitting your tip just the right way before she put it in your mouth.

Mina began working your tip hard, moving down your cock just slightly while applying pressure all around your head, her tongue massaging your frenulum. While she worked the tip, Sakura began licking your balls again, pressing her lips against your taint and kissing it deeply. The girl had no apprehension when it came to getting right up in there, pushing her mouth hard against your balls, licking them side to side.

“Mina…” you moaned as you felt the rush of euphoria shooting through your spine.

That was the last warning she’d get, within the next two or three seconds you felt your cock unloading cum relentlessly into Mina’s mouth. She held her lips tight against your tip, letting you fill her up, and Sakura kept prodding her tongue up against your balls the entire time. After the initial wave, Mina grabbed your cock and started stroking it, getting as much of your cum out as she could.

Once content, she lifted her mouth off your cock, spilling just a little bit on your shaft before she got off her knees and onto her feet again. Then, Mina gently took Sakura’s face in her hands and tilted her head up. Sakura obeyed without even being told and opened her mouth as Mina let a glob of your cum spill out of her lips and directly into Sakura’s mouth.

As soon as the cum landed on Sakura’s tongue, Mina bent down and kissed her, pressing her lips hard against Sakura’s. In a glorious, cum-filled kiss, the two girls began sharing the moment together, basically forgetting all about you as they played with your cum. Once pretty much all of it had moved from Mina’s mouth into Sakura’s, Mina leaned back and gently closed Sakura’s mouth with her hand, encouraging the girl to swallow it all - which she did with ease.

“Good girl,” Mina smiled as she motioned towards your cock. “You missed a spot.”

Without a second thought, Sakura leaned forward and licked the few streaks of cum left on your shaft, swallowing that as well. Then, Mina leaned in close and whispered something into Sakura’s ear. Whatever it was, she thought about it for at most a second before nodding excitedly at Mina.

“Such a good little girl,” Mina smiled, kissing Sakura again before climbing on the desk and sticking her ass up just slightly.

Sakura stood up from the chair and followed her to the desk. Once there, she took a moment to look over her shoulder back at you. While flashing you a smile, she pulled down her pants so that she was also completely nude and then bent over at her hips. While spreading her cheeks and flashing her pussy at you, Sakura pressed her face into Mina’s ass.

“Oh fuck I’ve missed this mouth,” Mina moaned loudly into the room. “Come on babe, give her what she deserves, give it to her good.”

“Gladly,” you muttered, mesmerized by how passionately Sakura was eating your girlfriend’s ass right now.

It was a beautiful scene as Mina’s back arched up, her shoulders flexed, and her head craned down towards the desk. Her legs were spread just enough and her ass was lifted to give Sakura easy access. Part of you was almost jealous of Sakura’s position.

That jealousy really didn’t last long though, not when you had a clear view of Sakura’s tight little pussy glistening before you. The girl was beyond excited, you could clearly see how wet she was. You walked up right behind her, pushing apart her cheeks just a little bit with your hands as you lined your cock up with her folds.

Just as you imagined, she was tight. But oh my God she was wet. Unbelievably. Sakura’s pussy felt fucking amazing right now, like pure heaven on your cock. It must have felt nice for her as well, because you heard a muffled but loud little half shriek half moan escape her lips the moment you pushed your way in. As you started gently thrusting your cock into Sakura’s tight pussy, you could see her back muscles flexing.

Even though you were willing to fuck her face hard earlier, for some reason you felt like being much more gentle with her now as you slowly eased your cock in and out of her pussy. She felt more delicate now - softer, definitely tighter, and just a bit more fragile in your hands. Maybe it was because you could see how amazing she was making Mina feel.

While still thrusting softly, you lightly pressed the back of Sakura’s head deeper into Mina’s ass just to see how she’d react. To your pleasant surprise, Sakura took that little pressure and doubled it herself, pressing her face even deeper into Mina’s ass until Mina began squirming like crazy. Sakura really was an angel.

Mina moaned hard, and you could have sworn you felt Sakura’s pussy tighten up a bit. Now, you decided, it was time to pick up the pace. You grabbed Sakura’s tiny waist and pressed her down against the edge of the desk, bracing her as you started thrusting with more force. You went harder and rougher until Sakura lifted her head out of Mina’s ass and began screaming, her legs shaking, and her knuckles white as they gripped the side of the desk.

“Pretty girl is cumming,” Mina sang gently as she slipped off the desk and watched Sakura with admiration.

Odds were pretty high that she didn’t even hear Mina’s words, as you could definitely feel Sakura cumming against your cock. The way her pussy began squeezing tighter, forcing you to fight just to stay in, it felt fucking unbelievable. Thankfully she was soaked, making it a bit easier to push in.

“Fuck you feel so - damn - good - right now,” you moaned, giving Sakura’s ass a hard slap before grabbing Mina’s arm and pulling her towards you.

“Oh!” Mina gasped with a giggle before immediately stifling it as you kissed her.

With your cock pumping inside Sakura, you kissed Mina hard and passionately, feeling your second orgasm rapidly approaching. Her pussy, even though it was relaxing a bit, was still squeezing your shaft so perfectly, warm and wet, coating your cock like a glove. Sakura was the perfect little fuckdoll for you, pussy designed perfectly to fit your cock.

“I’m going to cum again,” you whispered into Mina’s mouth before kissing her again.

As your lips met once more, you slipped your hand between her legs and began rubbing her wet clit. You toyed with her a bit, making her moan into your mouth, before slipping a finger into her asshole.

“Babe!” Mina gasped, shutting her eyes tight.

At that same moment, Sakura began moaning loudly into the air. Then, as Sakura began screaming, you felt her pussy clamp down even harder on your cock - she was cumming again. Each and every pulse could be felt through your shaft, each little gush of wet, each throb matching your own heat.

While Sakura finished once more on your cock, you pumped her pussy as hard as you could, nearing your own release rapidly. The finger you had in Mina’s ass was swiftly pulled out and the kiss ended as you began focusing everything in your body on fucking Sakura’s pussy.

Then, right before you could cum, you felt her body lose all energy as she began collapsing to the floor. Your cock slipped out of her pussy as she dropped to her knees and turned around. Sakura, face red and coated in sweat, looked up at you with her mouth open and her tits in her palms, pushed up together.

“Cum on me,” Sakura moaned, sticking her tongue out. “All over my body.”

Almost as if on cue, the first spurt of your cum shot forward right onto Sakura’s face. She jerked backwards instinctually as she closed her eyes before holding steady, taking the next two shots right to her face.

Mina, not wanting to be left out, also quickly dropped to her knees and began kissing your balls as the rest of your cum spilled out and began coating Sakura’s tits. You never would have expected so much, but Sakura’s chest was thoroughly coated in white while the last few dribbles of cum spilled on Mina’s cheek as she kissed your balls.

“I’m fucking spent,” you groaned, pulling the chair over and taking a seat.

“I can see that,” Mina giggled as she crawled over to Sakura.

The two girls lay down together and Mina began sucking on Sakura’s tits again, spreading your cum all over.

“That was amazing,” Sakura sighed, her chest heaving up and down as she caught her breath while Mina continued lapping up all the cum from her chest.

“How about we-” Mina began, pausing to kiss Sakura on the lips before continuing, “-head to the bedroom?”

Sakura and you exchanged glances before both of you began laughing.

“Alright, come on,” you got up with a smile and held your hand out for Sakura to take. “We’re not done yet.”

—

It was you who woke up first, when the sun started to peek through the curtains. After carefully removing yourself from the web of intertwined limbs on Mina's bed, you began to look for your clothes. Even though last night felt like a blur, you knew it was all real; Your body, aching with soreness, was ample proof that the night was real - and this wasn’t accounting for the two nude girls you just woke up next to. You were exhausted, but you were also experiencing a glow like no other this morning.

“You’re up early,” Sakura croaked from behind you.

“Morning,” you looked back over your shoulder to see her squinting. “Did I wake you? Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she yawned, stretching her arms towards the roof, not caring at all about her tits being out. “Hey, do you think you could give me a ride home?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, picking up whatever garments you could find off the floor. “When?”

“Now’s fine,” she yawned again, gently lifting Mina’s arms off her and getting off the bed. “Let me just gargle some water or something real quick, my throat is on fire.”

“Sorry again.”

“Idiot,” Sakura chuckled, giving your shoulder a light hit as she walked past you to the bathroom.

Sakura’s figure was truly entrancing, that tiny waist with her gorgeous hips swaying back and forth with each step. Part of you almost wanted to follow her round ass into the bathroom to have another turn with her, even though you had plenty of fun with her last night. Instead, you refrained and turned to Mina.

“Babe,” you called out, giving her a couple of pats on her butt before palming her soft cheek. “I’m going to go drop Sakura off, alright?”

“Mhmm,” she moaned in her half-slumber.

“I’ll be back in a bit, text me if you need anything,” you added, leaning over and kissing her forehead before putting on the rest of your clothes.

—

“Not much of a morning person?” you asked while putting your car into park.

“Sorry?” Sakura asked, confused as she turned to you.

“You didn’t say a word the whole drive.”

“Oh,” Sakura began blushing slightly. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to muster up some courage.”

“Courage?”

“I wanted to ask if…” she hesitated before turning to face you with those beautiful puppy dog eyes. “If you’d like to come up for some breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“It’s a meal people have in the morning.”

“Sakura,” you burst out laughing. She smiled at you warmly as your laughter subsided. “Well, I mean, I guess I have time.”

“Perfect!” Sakura gushed as she got out of your car. “You like eggs, right?”

“Nah, hate them,” you replied while following Sakura to the elevators.

“Then you can sit there and watch me eat eggs I guess.”

“That sounds good to me,” you smirked at her. “I’ve really grown to enjoy sitting there and watching you swallow.”

“Stop!” Sakura whined as her smile slipped through her feigned annoyance. “My body hasn’t had a night like that in a while.”

“You also sore?”

“Yeah, all over,” Sakura giggled, exiting the elevator in front of you. “Your girlfriend is quite… intense.”

“Not like it’s your first time experiencing her,” you teased as Sakura unlocked the door to her apartment. “Shouldn’t you already know this?”

“That was different, I didn’t really have anything going inside me that night,” Sakura replied casually as she stepped into her kitchen and started the coffee machine. “I spent most of the evening between her legs.”

“Between her cheeks, you mean.”

“Are you ever gonna stop teasing me?” Sakura leaned against her countertop with her arms crossed. “So what if I eat ass?”

“After last night, nope,” you smiled at her. “And it’s not like I’m judging you for it, been there done that.”

She returned the smile, and you both paused to gaze at each other; Sakura was so pretty this morning, even though she just woke up. Mina showed you all of Sakura's social media accounts following the events of last weekend’s gathering. You admitted to Mina that you thought Sakura was absolutely stunning, which is the only reason last night even happened, even though Mina seemed slightly anxious about sharing you with another girl.

“Cream and sugar?” Sakura asked while turning around towards the coffee machine.

“Huh?” you snapped out of your trance. “You want me to cream on your face again?”

“Oh my God,” Sakura sighed with exasperation. “I’m really never living it down.”

“I’m just kidding,” you stepped up right behind Sakura and placed your hands on her hips and whispered into her ear. “But does the coffee really matter?”

“What?”

“Sakura,” you turned her around and pressed her back gently against the counter. “We both know why you asked me to come up, and it’s not for breakfast.”

“That’s a bold assumption,” Sakura replied with an aura of confidence. “Maybe I just wanted some company for breakfast?”

“Maybe, but I also know you don’t eat breakfast.”

“W-What…” she stammered, cheeks turning pink. “How did you-”

“I know a lot about you, Sakura,” you whispered while keeping eye contact. “So, am I right? Did you invite me up for eggs or for something else?”

Sakura hesitated, biting her lower lip and trying to avoid your gaze as her eyes darted around the room. Yet, they always managed to fall right back onto yours.

“Don’t be shy now,” you added gently while pushing her hair behind her ears. “After last night, there’s nothing you need to hide from me anymore.”

“What about Mi-”

“What about her?” you cut her off. “Not that she’d mind, but I won’t tell her anything either way.”

“But-”

“Sakura,” you spoke firmly and placed your hands on the counter around Sakura’s body. “Either you walk over to the stove, or you drop down to your knees, what’s it going to be?”

She hesitated for just a moment before you saw the flame ignite behind her eyes.

“You’re right,” she whispered softly, lifting her hands up to use the hair tie she had on her wrist as she bunched up her hair. “I don’t even have eggs.”

“That’s what I thought,” you smiled as Sakura slowly dropped down to her knees as you started unbuckling your pants. “I knew you couldn’t get enough of my cock.”

“Yeah, just like how you can’t get enough of my mouth,” Sakura replied as she pulled your pants down to your ankles.

“No I can’t,” you muttered under your breath as the sensation of Sakura’s mouth finding your tip again instantly sent waves of pleasure through your body.

With your eyes closed, you placed your hands on Sakura’s head and simply enjoyed letting her suck your cock with full control. You didn’t thrust your hips nor did you push her head, you just existed in the state of bliss that Sakura put you in. Gentle slurps were all you could hear as the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen.

“I love your cock so much,” Sakura gasped as she finally took a breath. She grabbed your shaft with her slender fingers and started stroking you while tilting her head down towards your balls. She gave them a quick kiss before sliding her tongue all the way up your shaft and engulfing your cock once more, bobbing her head up and down your length.

“Fucking hell Sakura,” you moaned softly, pushing your hands against the counter to hold yourself up. “Lemme see those tits again.”

Sakura slowly rose to her feet, her fingers finding your shaft as she leaned in close to you, giving you a couple of gentle strokes as she whispered. “You love my tits, don’t you?” she asked with a sly little smile.

“That’s right,” you replied as your hands landed on her hips, slowly sliding up her shirt. “I had the best sleep ever, laying my face on them.”

“Did you also like cumming all over them?”

“I don’t recall, jog my memory?” you smirked at her as your hands finally found her soft tits.

As you gave her a little squeeze, you leaned forward into her and kissed her on the lips. As soon as you tasted her, you realized despite all the events of last night, this was your first time kissing Sakura. A wave of warmth shot through you, it was hard to explain, it felt both wrong and right at the same time. Before you could think about it and figure out what was going on, Sakura had pulled back and taken your hand, walking you over to her couch.

Sakura, after pushing you onto the couch, began slowly taking off her shirt. She made sure to sway her body side to side, inching the fabric up tediously, exposing her tiny waist inch by inch. It was only once her shirt made it to her chest did she quickly swoop it off her body, sending her tits recoiling into a bounce that felt like it lasted an eternity - almost cartoonishly.

The show wasn’t over yet. You started stroking your cock gently as Sakura turned around, showing off her toned back, and bending at her hips. Slowly, oh so painstakingly slowly, Sakura lowered her pants to her ankles, kicking them away. Then, with just her panties on and nothing else, she took a seat on your lap, pushing your cock between her cheeks.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” you whispered into her ear as you wrapped your arms around her body and palmed her tits.

“You like my tits that much?” Sakura whispered back, turning her face. “Wanna fuck them?”

Your cock began throbbing - which Sakura definitely felt as evident through her confident little giggles - and you squeezed Sakura’s tits hard between your fingers. There was no need to answer, Sakura already knew, and with an impressive smoothness she slid down your body and onto her knees in front of you.

“Just relax, let me do the work,” Sakura moaned softly as she pushed her tits together around your cock.

She started slowly, moving her tits up and down with her hands, making your entire length disappear between them. Then, once she had a rhythm going, she looked up directly into your eyes and began bouncing her entire body up and down, pushing her tits together hard, making a tight seal around your cock.

It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. It wasn’t tight, but it was unbelievably soft and smooth - it just felt right having your cock between Sakura’s tits. You loved it. The sensation was unreal, you felt like you were getting close but not able to cum, as if Sakura was edging you, it just felt like a steady stream of dopamine straight to your brain. 

This was when you realized you really couldn't cum like this, but it still felt so damn good that you didn’t want it to stop. Sakura, enthusiastic as ever, stopped only to let a glob of spit fall from her lips as lube for your cock. It was hard to tell if she was enjoying this, but she made sure to keep going, doing all the work while you sat there in utter bliss.

Enough was enough, the pressure was becoming too much for you to take. You needed to bust, and all you could think about was Sakura’s sexy little mouth again. The girl must have been able to read your mind, because all it took was a shared glance of understanding before Sakura let go of her tits, letting them bounce down with gravity as you pulled her up to the couch next to you.

Sakura, eager as ever, immediately bent down over your lap and started using her hand and mouth in tandem to suck you off as fast as she could. You reached your hand over and slipped it down the back of Sakura’s panties, palming her ass and squeezing softly as you closed your eyes and focused. WIth your other hand, you lightly pressed down on the back of Sakura’s head as she worked your cock with all her expertise.

“That’s it Sakura, that’s the spot,” you moaned, pushing her head just a bit harder. “Don’t fucking stop, I’m about to cum.”

She heard you, and she obliged. Sakura, without needing your push, throated your cock as hard as she could, going down almost your entire length with each push. At this point, you were so close that you found yourself thrusting your hips up into her mouth right up until you felt yourself about to cum.

Before the final little thrust, you let go of Sakura’s ass and used both hands to push her face down onto your cock as hard as you could, lifting your hips up and shooting your load straight down her throat. Sakura’s entire core was flexed as she steadied herself, taking all of your cum directly to the neck. As you felt yourself starting to relax, the pulsing slowing down, you let go of her head.

Sakura lifted herself up, taking a heavy gasp for air as a flood of white spilled out of her mouth before she immediately went right back down on your cock, sucking it up and down, making a mess all over your shaft. She didn’t care about all the cum coating her lips, she just wanted to suck your cock until it all came out.

“Oh fuck Sakura that feels good,” you cried out, giving her ass a small slap before bringing both hands up behind your head and shutting your eyes tight again, relishing in Sakura’s blowjob.

She kept going until you were completely drained, before she started slowly licking up your shaft, collecting as much of your cum as possible on her tongue. She dropped off the couch right onto her knees and made sure to look up at you, making eye contact as she scooped up all the cum she spilled on your cock.

“You’re such a dirty fucking girl,” you laughed softly, stroking her hair while she worked.

Sakura didn’t even reply, but her lips curled up into a smile as she kept that same enthusiasm, sucking your cock until all of the cum had been swallowed. Only then, after giving your balls one final little kiss and one last lick of your shaft, did Sakura finally stop.

“Done?” you chuckled.

“Done,” she beamed up at you before suddenly getting shy.

“What?”

She paused for a moment as if she needed the courage again before speaking.

“Can I kiss you again?” Sakura asked sheepishly.

“Sakura,” you began whispering a response before having a change of plans.

Instead of answering her directly, you decided to just pull her up to you and press your lips against hers. She seemed a bit nervous at first, but you just ignored it and kept going until eventually you could feel her warm up to you. Her hands began exploring your back, while you did the same with hers, Her legs wrapped around your body as she climbed on top of you in an attempt to have as much skin on skin contact possible, intertwining your bodies together as you kissed.

This went on for longer than you had initially expected. The second either one of you pulled back to take a quick breath, all it took was the tiniest bit of eye contact before you both mutually decided to kiss again. You closed your eyes each time, getting lost in the feeling and the moment that you got to share with this gorgeous girl. Finally, after a lifetime of kissing, your lips parted and didn’t reconnect, leaving Sakura breathing heavily above you.

“Yeah,” you muttered softly.

“Yeah,” Sakura agreed with a smile.

A moment of warmth passed, your bodies still attached, while you both just looked deeply into each other’s eyes.

“You’re not in a rush, are you?” you asked softly.

“No, why?”

“Would you let me…” you began before carefully picking Sakura up and placing her onto her back beneath you. “Could I?”

“You mean like, down there?” Sakura asked, cheeks turning rosey again.

“Yes, down there,” you clarified gently, cupping Sakura’s face in your hand gently. “All the fun we had last night and I never got so much as a taste.”

Sakura bit her lower lip gently before nodding up at you and taking a deep breath. She was tense, and you weren’t entirely sure why, but you were going to at least try relaxing her. You slid down her body gently until your face was between her legs which she had bent upwards, spreading them to make room for you. She lifted up her butt just slightly to help you ease off her panties, which you unhooked from her ankles and tossed across the room.

Her pussy was as gorgeous as ever, looking as tight and wet as you knew it was, but you didn’t rush it. Instead, you pressed your lips against her inner thigh and pressed down softly. This worked, as you could hear her breathing slow down and deepen. You kissed a bit closer. A drop spilled out of her pussy, sliding between her legs, leaving a trail for you to follow.

With some careful maneuvering, you pressed your mouth beneath her pussy and gave her a single lick, sliding your tongue up her skin. She let out a sharp breath, shivers shooting up her spine as your mouth made contact with her pussy for the first time. Maybe it was just the moment - definitely was just the moment - but Sakura had the best tasting pussy you have ever experienced.

“Please just this one, don’t go lower…” Sakura stammered nervously.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” you reassured her. “Just try to relax, if you can.”

Before going forward, you reached up with both hands and grabbed Sakura’s, interlocking your fingers. Next, you gently blew some air against her pussy, feeling her strength as she squeezed down against your fingers. Now, before she could fully relax, you pressed your mouth against her pussy, listening for her soft moan as you began prodding at her clit with your tongue.

“You’re good at this,” Sakura moaned softly, her fingers tensing up between yours. “Really fucking good.”

“I have experience,” you replied cockily when you suddenly felt a tinge of guilt stab you in the heart.

The realization of what you were doing dawned on you all at once. Would Mina actually be okay with you having your face in another girl’s pussy - especially one who she knows has a crush on you? You kinda assumed it didn’t matter after the events of last night, but all of a sudden you weren’t so sure anymore.

“Does that experience tell you to always tease this much?” Sakura whined, rubbing a hand through your hair while her lower body squirmed. “Please, I’m close.”

“Are you?” you replied, deciding to put your concerns on the backburner temporarily, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling you had in your chest and focusing instead of the gorgeous tight little pussy inches away from your mouth.

It was all so confusing, because even though you were feeling guilty, your body just naturally pounced forward and you ended up putting Sakura’s pussy entirely in your mouth with your tongue laying flat against her clit. You pressed down, swaying side to side, loving the gentle tug of your hair with each of Sakura’s little moans.

“Oh yeah, just like that, just like-” Sakura cried out softly, lifting her body up off the cushions. “I’m going to- you’re going to make- fuck- please-”

None of it made any real sense, yet it still made sense - in a way? Fuck it, not like it mattered. What did matter was the two fingers you slipped into Sakura’s pussy, at least that’s what mattered to Sakura in this moment. You curled them up, trying your best to hit the right spots while sucking on her clit. Whatever you were doing, she fucking loved it. Her moans - or rather, screams - were ecstasy in the purest form. Her voice was peaking, making all sorts of noises that every other tenant could probably hear right now.

Then, as Sakura released the loudest cuss of the morning, you felt a massive gush burst out of Sakura’s pussy and right into your mouth. You leaned back, relishing in the sounds Sakura was making right now, while using just your two fingers to force Sakura to squirt a couple more times, not caring at all about the mess she was making on you.

“Stop,” Sakura sobbed, bringing her legs together and grabbing your wrist.

The mixed signals had you smiling as Sakura refused to let you pull out your fingers, all while begging for something. You didn’t know if she wanted you to stop or to keep going anymore, she wasn’t making much sense, but this had to be one of the best orgasms she’s ever had and you weren’t going to be the one to ruin it for her. So, instead, you just continued doing whatever didn’t make sense, all for her.

“Sakura,” you whispered gently as she finally began relaxing. You slipped your fingers out carefully and spread her legs gently, leaning forward to give her pussy - which was beyond drenched at this point - a soft kiss.

“Oh,” she moaned quietly, her eyes shut tight still.

“You good?”

“Fucking amazing,” she sighed, finally opening her eyes to look at you. That’s when she suddenly became overwhelmed with embarrassment and hid her face in her hands. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“For what?” you sat up, confused.

“I’ve never squirted before, I had no idea-”

“Oh,” you started laughing as you lay down on top of Sakura and moved her hands away. “I don’t give a shit about that, it’s fine.”

“But-”

She couldn’t finish her worry before you silenced her by kissing her softly on the mouth. You could feel she was still on edge, but it only lasted a moment before you felt the shift in her body. She kissed you back, with a passion beyond what you imagined. It was so incredibly tender, as if your lover, but it didn’t last long.

“I can feel your cock,” Sakura smiled up at you.

“Uh,” you hesitated, struggling to think of a line.

“Put it in me.”

Fuck, that was probably the hottest thing she could have ever said in this moment in your mind. The amount of raw horniness coursing through your veins right now made you feel like you were about to explode from the inside. And with that one line, doubt and hesitation was simply not possible right now, your cock was throbbing - almost painfully.

Your mind was all fuzzy as you fumbled around between Sakura’s legs, trying to find her entrance. Eventually, you found yourself in position, and with one swift little push you went all the way until your balls pressed against Sakura’s soft skin. She was so fucking unbelievably wet that it didn’t matter how tight her pussy was - you were able to move with ease.

It took almost no time at all for you to find a nice rhythm - not too fast but not too slow. With your cock pumping into Sakura’s pussy, you tilted yourself forward and gave her another kiss, one she returned without any restraint. You kept it going for as long as you could, your hands sliding up to her chest and gently resting against her tits.

Nothing could have made this moment better, really, so there was almost a bit of sadness when you felt it come to an end so quickly. Of course, that sadness was completely washed away by the insane amount of euphoria you felt as your cock exploded inside Sakura’s pussy. You didn’t even feel it coming, it only took maybe a minute of fucking Sakura for you to cum this time.

The way she kissed you through your entire orgasm felt divine, she didn’t care about how quickly you blew, she just cared about making you feel good. Your cock, slipping in and out of her pussy, kept pulsing and throbbing, shooting an absurd amount of cum into Sakura’s pussy. With a final squeeze of her tits and one final kiss, you sat up and pulled out.

“My God,” you muttered as you watched your cum spill from Sakura’s pussy.

“It’s beautiful,” Sakura sighed, watching as well for a moment before scooping up the cum and spreading it on her chest. “I can’t believe you still had this much in you.”

“I don’t know how it’s even possible,” you replied, finally now as the euphoria wore off feeling a bit embarrassed by how long you lasted.

“That was so fucking amazing,” Sakura smiled at you, almost as if reading your mind once more and noting your insecurity. “You were perfect, in every way, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, you were also amazing,” you leaned forward and kissed her again before she snuggled right up against your body.

“Best breakfast ever,” Sakura whispered quietly.

“I think the coffee might be cold by now.”

“Fuck the coffee.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckled while rubbing Sakura’s side. “Alright, I should probably-”

“Five minutes?” she whispered with a vulnerability that made your heartbeat double in pace.

The way she was holding onto your body right now, there was literally no chance you’d deny her. You smiled softly to yourself, one she couldn’t see with her head resting against your chest, and leaned forward to kiss the top of Sakura’s head softly before pulling her tighter into your embrace.

Those five minutes stretched much longer than five minutes, but you didn’t care one bit.

---

A/N:

Well this came out of absolutely nowhere. Backstory, one of my fellow writers did a little writing project and the theme was "unlikely pairings". I know Mina x Sakura isn't the CRAZIEST mix, but it's still somewhat uncommon I think?! Funny enough, I also recently got an Ask about "which two odd pair idols do you think about a lot?" so this was really just all destined to happen.

Anyway, the 3k submission has now turned into a story that will be probably 20k+, so here's Part 1! Part 2 is actually already done (spoilers, there's more Mina), I'll release it in maybe a week to let this marinate a bit. Part 3 maybe a week after that. Each part should be roughly this length, with Part 3 possibly being a bit closer to 10k.

Regarding other projects! I am going to really sit down and get the next Dating Seraphs chapter going, it's well past due at this point. After that we'll see, either Roommates or Twice I think, but I can't say for sure. I don't have an insane amount of time to write at the moment, but I'm still somehow writing quite a bit!

Absolutely love the insane amount of support my community has been showing recently, seriously, you guys are the best. I can believe how supportive everyone is especially when I'm so insanely inconsistent. Feel free to give any feedback you'd like on this piece, or don't, totally up to you! Cheers <3

[ktownshizzle]

Watermelon & Suga | myg

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x plus size female!reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: idol!au, Fluff, Smut, Drama, Whirlwind romance, Love at “second” sight

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Inspired by the events of Dday Phuket Vlog, Yoongi meets you, the island girl of his dreams, and now he can’t stop thinking about you.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Dday rockstar Yoongi, I love this MC I think she a baddie, writing might feel a little too indulgent at times, A world with no language barriers, A relevant time skip, check the dates. Sex on a boat, public sex/slight exhibitionism kink, unprotected sex (be safe!), oral (m&f), spanking, fingering, squirting (in that order lol), slight degradation and dirty talk but MC likes it, sweet pet names, tell me if I missed anything, but yeah… sex on a boat and then some, Yoongi is down atrociously bad for our curvy queen and is desperate to worship her and validate her <3

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 10k!

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Finally!!! Worked on this for months ever since some of y’all plagued me with Phuket vlog Yoongi as honeymoon hubby material and I couldn’t stop the fantasy from unfolding. It did take me a while to bang this out (I blame the Nerds), sorry. Nonetheless I hope y’all enjoy this lil slice of paradise. 💜 Thank you Aqua for betareading.

🗓️ June 2023 - 📍Phuket, Thailand

The air smells like salt and sunlight, a mix you’ve grown so accustomed to that it no longer feels special. Just another Tuesday workday on the Andaman Sea. 

It’s nice and calm out today, barely a ripple on the surface. There’s a light breeze from the southwest, nothing too exciting, just enough to keep things cool. No storm on the radar, and the water's warm enough for a good snorkelling sesh. Basically, a perfect day to fall in love (with the sea).

Your usual clients are giddy tourists, high on Tiger beer and oyster omelets. But today seems quieter, more chill somehow, even though your group today is unlike your typical clientele. Today, you were asked to sign an NDA.

The rest of the group has boarded already. Some seven men and women that comprise a group of musicians currently in town for their concert tour. Now, you’re just waiting for the last member to join. The VIP, apparently.

So who’s the diva? 

Well, after 15 minutes, he finally decides to grace you with his presence. 

“Min Yoongi?” you call tentatively.

He nods, barely glancing up as he steps onto the boat. A quick bow, respectful but distracted. You direct him to a seat near the stern, his cologne lingering in the air as he passes you.

To be fair, he’s not flashy, no monogram logos in sight, no jewelry, or any other loud proclamations of being the proverbial shit. Dressed in a black and white shirt with a plain black rash guard and shorts, a baseball cap tugged low over his eyes, he could’ve been mistaken for anyone. But there seems to be a deliberate nature in how he moves, careful and understated, like he’s trying to avoid notice but not entirely succeeding. 

Swag can’t be faked, even if he did walk a little bit like your grandpa. Those New Balance slides? Yeah, you’ve seen it in your halbeoji’s home.

You turn to speak with Soomchai from the coast guard—a moderately cranky but well-meaning old man who’s been doing this for decades. He scratches at his scalp through his faded fisherman’s hat as you hand him the passenger manifest.

“You’re staring too hard,” he quips, licking the pad of his index before flipping the pages.

Huh? “I’m not.” You say.

“So they’re famous, eh?” he reviews the names on the clipboard, surreptitiously glancing over your shoulder.

You look behind you, half of them are already asleep, half basically on their phones.

“One of them, yeah. You know BTS?”

His face remains unchanged as he counts the passengers. “I don’t and I don’t trust the lot of them. Want me to accompany you?”

“Loong Soomchai,” you smile at the man who has taken you under his wing since you moved here last year. “Chill. Besides, I have a black belt in taekwondo, if you already forgot. I can easily toss them overboard, then they’ll really be your problem.”

“Aish,” he waves a dismissive hand at you. “I’m on line 3. Stay safe.”

“Roger, that,” you speak into your hand-held radio, your voice blaring on the receiver tucked into the older man’s cargo shorts. 

Soomchai’s slouched frame disappears as the boat pulls away from the dock. You brace your legs and adjust your stance. The boat shifts beneath you—but you don’t. Learning how to move with the water, how to balance your weight just right, was something that came with time.

Before you officially start the tour, you check your rash guard, snug across your chest, and smooth down the high-waisted swim shorts that you are wearing. You’re quite happy with your fashion choice today. It made you feel like a Bond girl—but curvier, tougher, more badass.

Usually, you would take a moment to observe your audience, make eye contact and exchange smiles to open the communication. Your VIP, though, sits with his arms resting on his thighs, gaze fixed on the water as though it holds answers to questions only he knows. You wonder if he’s the type to make small talk or if he’d prefer you stayed silent. 

Still, it’s your job to guide, to narrate, to fill the spaces between the silence and the sea. You start with the usual pleasantries and introductions, your go-to joke to break the ice, and you’re off. 

“If you look to the right,” you gesture, “you’ll see Koh Tapu. You may have heard of it as James Bond Island, because a scene from The Man with the Golden Gun was filmed there.”

A polite murmur rises from the other guests. Some snap photos. Min Yoongi doesn’t look up.

You let the silence stretch, wondering if you should say more. It’s not often you get guests like him—someone who seems so unbothered, yet weighed down at the same time. 

It isn’t until you glance back at him again that you realize he’s watching you now, his eyes sharp beneath the brim of his cap. Caught, you quickly look away, focusing instead on the shimmering turquoise of the water.

“How many times have you done this tour before?”

The question surprises you. You’re not sure if you should be offended, but you answer swiftly anyway. “Hundreds of times,” you admit with a shrug. “But the sea changes every day. It’s never exactly the same.”

You smile at him, genuine. “I imagine it’s a bit like your concerts. You practice it a thousand times, but it's still different in every show, every city, every audience… Makes things interesting.”

Something in your words seems to resonate with him. He leans back slightly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “I get that,” he says softly, more to himself than to you.

After that, you noticed Yoongi’s guard begin to lower. He’d nod occasionally at your explanations, even ask a question here and there—about the history of a limestone karst or the kinds of fish they might see while snorkeling. His voice was quiet, with a faint rasp from overuse that made him clear his throat now and then.

“You know this fish?” Yoongi asks, holding out his phone to show you a screenshot.

“Wow, that’s beautiful…” you lean forward slightly.

He coughs a bit, scratching the back of his neck as he leans back. “Yeah, uh, they said it’s native to these parts.”

“I’m not familiar,” you squint. “Can you send me the photo? I can ask one of the other guides—I’m still no expert on marine life, I fear.”

There’s a pause. He gives you a look you can’t quite read, brows slightly raised, lips pressed in something not quite a smile. But it’s not disapproving either. Just... 

Oh shit. You just asked for his number. Or to exchange Kakao. Same thing. You basically asked to link up.

Such an idiot. A flush creeps up your neck. Stupid, stupid girl. You weren’t thinking. God, he probably thinks you’re trying to pull a fast one on him—playing the helpful guide when really, you just wanted an excuse. 

People don’t just ask for Yoongi’s number. Of course not. Unless they’re someone. You hope he doesn’t file a complaint after this.

You straighten, your voice a little brighter, a bit too eager to salvage what’s left of your professionalism. “But, um, actually, no need. We’ll see a ton of species later when we get near the caverns. I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for that one.”

“Mmh.” He nods. You can’t quite tell if it’s thoughtful or distracted by your word vomit.

But as you turn to walk across the deck, you can feel his eyes burning holes on your back. Low on your back. Maybe lower even.

Should you look? Maybe you’re just imagining it. 

You chance a quick glance. And your eyes meet his. Looking at you with an interesting glint. His lips lift slightly. You tilt your head, curious. Pulse racing. Giddy.

Okay, maybe your job is safe after all. But your heart? Eh.

When you serve them a plate of watermelon slices, the group’s energy shifts. One of them jokes about how they should’ve brought soju, while another eagerly reaches for a piece, groaning in satisfaction the moment he tastes it.

You place the tray in front of Yoongi, and he immediately plucks a slice. He bites into it, and for the first time all morning, you see a full-blown smile—pretty enamals and pink gums on show.

“Good?” you asked, unable to stop your own grin from forming.

He nodded, wiping his thumb along the corner of his mouth. “It’s perfect.”

“What’s your favorite fruit?” you throw out a neutral question as you struggle to ignore the stray liquid he’s trying to chase down with his tongue. 

“Tangerines,” he replies. “The ones from Jeju Island are the best. Have you ever been?”

“No, unfortunately.”

There was a beat of silence before he adds, almost to himself, “But this… this is nice.”

He pushes the plate towards you. “You should have one.”

“Ah, maybe later.”

“Don’t be shy,” the plate moves another inch closer. You pick up a slice, mumbling a thanks.

Sugar fills your mouth as you sink your teeth on the watermelon, juice dribbling on the side of your lip which you immediately catch with your tongue.

Unlike you though, he’s watching. Openly. Shamelessly. The way his eyes dart from your mouth to your eyes is not lost on you and you can’t help but feel excitement pooling in your belly.

“Sweet.” you remark, before sucking the juice from your thumb. Baiting him.

He smirks, “Looks like it.”

“You always flirt using fruit?”

“You’re the one licking your lips.”

You grin.

As a tour guide, you’re used to the art of the harmless flirt. It comes with the job—tourists with sun-soaked nerves and too much vacation confidence, tossing compliments like loose change. You’ve learned how to play along just enough, to keep things light, fun. A wink here, a tease there. Part of the act. People like feeling charming, and you don’t mind giving them the illusion.

But this feels different.

Right now, it’s just you, the sea, and this idol watching you like he’s the one mesmerized.

And maybe it shouldn’t matter, the way his gaze lingers—not over the places you’ve been taught to hide, but the ones you’ve learned to own. The dip of your waist. The curve of your hip where your swim shorts sit snug. 

There’s something about being looked at like this—not with hunger or pity, but with curiosity, appreciation, even. And it makes you want to keep his gaze a little longer.

‘Cause you know who he is. You’d recognized the name when you saw it on the manifest and when you signed the documents. He’s an idol. Part of Bangtan Fuckin’ Sonyeondan. A man with a carefully manicured image, a life guarded by rabid fans, dissected by media men with too many opinions, surrounded by sexy, slender women.

You’d think men like him don’t get to have ‘normal’ moments like this. They don’t make casual conversations about fish or share food with a rando. But here he is, acting like this is real. And god, why does it feel like it might be?

Honestly, maybe it’s nothing. Maybe you’re not the only one who knows the art of the harmless flirt. Maybe he’s not even that interested.

But you’re gonna play along. See where this goes. At least for now.

Later, after anchoring in a secluded cove, you bring out the snorkeling gear. Most of your guests dive in with ease, their laughter echoing as they race toward the reef. Yoongi lingers on the boat, fiddling with the straps of his mask.

“Need help?” you ask, stepping closer.

He looks up, sheepish. “Is it that obvious?”

You laugh softly. “A little. Here, let me.”

He hands you the mask, watching as you adjust the straps. His gaze feels heavier now, like it’s searching for something beyond the simple act of fixing the gear.

You’re used to people skimming past you with their eyes, but when Yoongi looks, you feel like your skin is on fire. His gaze dips, just for a second, on the spot where the zipper of your top sits against your boobs. He doesn’t comment, doesn’t smirk—probably thinks he’s being sly. But you’re on to him. 

“You’ve done this before, right?” you check, eyes teasing, as you pass the mask back to him.

He shrugs. “A long time ago. I’m out of practice.”

“Good thing I’m here.” You flash him a reassuring smile and step into the water, gesturing for him to follow.

You surface and nod. He hesitates only briefly before jumping in—but his foot slips slightly on the boat’s edge, and he lands with an ungraceful splash and shriek that echoes across the cove. You can’t stop the laugh that bursts out.

“Grand entrance,” you say, grinning as he surfaces with a shy expression.

“Glad I could entertain you,” he mutters, pushing his wet hair back, and if that isn’t one of the sexiest actions you’ve ever seen done by any human being. God.

“Here.” You take a chance to reach for his hand, and to your mild surprise and relief, he takes it. “Just relax. The water will do most of the work.”

He follows your lead, his fingers tightening slightly around yours as you float together. The reef comes into view below, vibrant and teeming with life. You glance at him, his face half-hidden by the snorkel mask, and find him watching you instead of the reef.

“You’re missing the best part,” you pull your hand away, pointing toward the colorful fish darting between the coral.

“Am I?”

You take your mask off only to roll your eyes. “Are you always this smooth?”

He pulls the mouthpiece out just enough to smirk at you. “Only when it works.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escapes you. 

“Admit it,” he says, leaning closer, his voice low. “You’re having fun.”

You don’t deny it. Instead, you start wading away, gesturing towards the reef. “Come on. The fish are much better company.”

Back on the boat, the atmosphere is lighter. Yoongi is more relaxed now, his earlier distance replaced by a quiet warmth. As you steer toward the island for lunch, you feel his gaze on you again.

When you glance over, he doesn’t look away this time.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” he says, though his lips twitch into an understated smile.

At the island, the group disembarks for lunch, their excitement palpable. Yoongi lingers by the railing, his gaze flickering between you and the others.

“Come with us,” he says, his voice low enough that the others don’t hear.

You shake your head, smiling apologetically. “I can’t. Protocol.”

He looks as though he wants to argue, because he seems like the type that gets everything he wants, but resignedly nods, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Next time, then.”

“Next time,” you echo, though you’re not sure if you believe it.

While they eat, you stay behind on the boat, finishing your own lunch, which one of the island ahjummas hands you as soon as you dock. There’s still some leftover watermelon, so you have it for dessert. It’s sweeter than any you have had all summer, but not sweet enough to distract you from the thought spinning in your head: Did the Min Yoongi really just invite you to join their group for lunch?

He was probably just being polite. Right? But then why did he stare at your lips for ten whole seconds when you were exploring the caves?

Fuck. You really need to get Lasik because your eyes cannot be trusted. Maybe a psychiatric evaluation too, while you’re at it.

Who are you kidding? At this point you can only afford the oh-so ahjumma-chic wide-brim hat so your lone brain cell is not fried by the sun.

BUT. Why does it feel like you had a connection?

Him with his kind eyes and that sexy smile. You’re so fucked.

Shaking your head, you grab a beer from the cooler and chug it, the cold brew doing its damnednest to wash down your delusions. For a moment, the only sound is from waves against the boat’s hull.

But then, footsteps.

You glance over your shoulder.

Yoongi is walking into the shaded area of the boat, pushing damp strands of hair with his beautiful fingers.

“Hey,” you say, clocking that he’s coming in alone. Your pulse races.

“Hi.”

“Craving more watermelon?” you ask, smiling as you gesture to the plate.

He leans against the table, his gaze steady, but there’s something else there. “I was,” he says, his voice softer now, “but I think I’m craving something else.”

Your breath stutters. The plate in your hand feels heavier. The tips of his fingers brushes along the edge of the table as he walks closer, and closer.

“There’s, uh, more delicacies on the island,” you try to use your tour guide voice, but you’re faltering. “Thailand has, umm, over 1,000 species of fruit, you know…”

“Mmm.” A faint smirk touches his lips, but his eyes are fixed on you. He’s literally in front of you now, so close that the air is sucked out of your lungs. You notice every macro detail—the faint streaks of sunscreen on his cheek, the fine grains of sand clinging to his hair, the way his scent is a mix of the sun and the ocean and his own musk. And those lips. Goddamn those lips.

“What is it that you like?” you ask, your voice small and shy as he studies you, too.

“I think I prefer,” he murmurs, before leaning in. “This.”

His kiss sparks upon contact against your mouth. His lips are a little chapped, but still soft. A hand slips around the back of your neck, guiding you closer until your lips part, and his tongue slides in. There’s not one second of hesitation, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You angle your head and kiss him back, a little messy, a little breathless. It’s not the kind of kiss meant for daylight, not while you’re at work, not something that belongs on a boat in open water, but fuck if it ain’t so goddamn good you forget where the hell you are.

His other hand settles on your middle, firm, squeezing against your soft waist. You’re keenly aware of every place your bodies meet—your chest against his damp shirt, your thigh brushing his leg, the faint heat radiating off his skin in the humid air.

You’ve never done this. Nope. Not while working. Not with guests, especially. But Yoongi doesn’t feel like a guest anymore. Doesn’t feel like a fantasy or a celebrity or whatever version of himself the world thinks he is.

He doesn’t feel new–like someone you just met. It sounds crazy that you connected on a level that doesn’t quite match the short amount of time since you’ve exchanged names. You can’t even correct your actions at this point. Not when he tastes like coconut and you’re slipping farther away from clarity.

Your hands move on instinct, sliding up under his shirt, fingers tangling in the sticky strands at the nape of his neck. “Yoongi…” His name escapes you like a plea, like you’re already wrecked—and maybe you are.

His tongue strokes yours, and it’s incredibly filthy how he’s sucking it into his mouth like he wants to own it. Own you. You moan. Your knees weaken. Your brain empties. The only thing you can feel is him—his mouth, his breath, the growing pressure of his body against yours.

Fingers are slipping under the hem of your shorts, gripping you behind with no hesitation.

“This ass,” he mutters, then smacks, and the sound cracks in the air. Your breath catches, a gasp hitching from your throat as slickness floods your bikini bottoms.

“Shit–somebody might see us,”

“Nah, nobody else is gonna come here,” he pauses, smirks. “Except you, twice. Then, me.”

The confidence. “Oh my God.”

“We ‘bout to break protocol.” He squeezes your ass again, groaning into your neck. “You want this?” he rasps. His lips latch onto your throat, teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver. “Tell me.”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe. “Come…”

You grab his hand and lead him toward the hatch, pulling it open and motioning for him to climb down. He does without question, dropping to the lower deck with a soft thud.

You grip the ladder, descending slowly, legs already shaky with anticipation. But before you can hit the floor, his hands are on your thick thighs, firm. Squeezes once.

“Stop,” he commands. “Face me.”

Your heart stutters, but you obey, turning to face him as you grip the edge of the floor deck which is now at your eye level.

“What are you—?”

“You keep an eye out,” he says, voice low and dark with intent. “I'm just gonna eat you out real quick.”

Your breath catches—shocked, aroused, completely undone.

He curls his fingers into your waistband, tugging your shorts and bikini bottoms down in one smooth motion. A gust of humid air brushes your exposed skin as your knees nearly give out.

But you don’t get a second to process, because his mouth is already on you, making out with your pussy lips. His tongue licks a long, hot stripe through your folds, and your nearly fucking cum right there.

The metal ladder is cool against your ass as you struggle for balance. Your grip tightens on the deck, knuckles almost white. His hand slides up to part your thighs just a little more, anchoring you open for him. You feel his hot breath, before his tongue dives back in—savoring, circling, sucking.

You panic—just briefly. You spent hours in the ocean. You probably taste like—

“Mmm,” he hums against you, like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. His grip on your thigh is a bit harsh as if he could read your mind that you wanted to squirm out of his grasp. 

There is something so incredibly arousing about feeling him, but not seeing him. Hearing him, but not touching him. As if the sensations are heightened. Every feeling more palpable because of sense deprivation.

Next thing you know his fingers are teasing your entrance, collecting the slick from your pussy.

You feel a wet tap against the side of your mouth and words aren't needed as you suck his digits in. You’re drunk of your own taste and heady scent, the feel of his bony knuckles massaging your tongue tipping you closer to the edge.

But then his fingers are gone and you almost want to bite it down but then he slides it into your cunt and Christ alive. 

He is moving in and out of you so shallowly, just knuckle-deep, the pads of his fingers barely scraping your inner walls. You move your arms to grip the ladder behind you, giving you the leverage to rock forward, coaxing it inner, deeper.

Fuck is he laughing right now?!

You halt your movements as you hear a throaty chuckle from underneath you.

“Why’d you stop,” he teases, kissing up the softness on the inside of your thighs.

“Hook your thigh over my shoulder,” he mumbles against your soaked heat, voice low and so filthy it makes your whole body tense.

You do as he says. Your leg lifts shakily, your body is burning with the exertion but his hand is already there, steadying you, guiding you, draping it over the curve of his shoulder like you don’t weigh nothing.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, just before his tongue dives back in.

It’s messier now. His fingers pump deeper, faster, the pace almost punishing as they curl inside you, finding that spongey spot that makes your thighs seize. His tongue flicks over your clit in short, relentless strokes, matching the rhythm of his fingers.

You cry out—loud, desperate, your hand gripping the ladder like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the earth. Your hips jerk, trying to escape, but he growls and tightens his hold, tongue moving even faster.

“Fuck, Yoongi—I’m gonna—”

And then it hits. A blinding, body-shaking orgasm that tears through you so violently your vision goes white. You scream as your legs almost gives out, but his arm braces your hips as you fuckin’ squirt, soaking his chin, his neck, the tops of his shoulders.

He lets out a surprised, delighted laugh, breath hot and sticky as he looks up at you.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, eyes glazed, chin glistening. “You squirted all over me, you dirty girl.”

You whimper, half-mortified, half-high, your body still twitching. “Sorry…” you squeak.

His tongue darts out to taste the corner of his mouth, and he grins—smirks, really. Completely pleased with himself. “Don’t. Sexiest thing I’ve seen in a while.”

You’re trembling so hard you can barely stay upright, your leg slipping from his shoulder. He catches it, presses a final kiss to your inner thigh, then plants your foot down on a step. 

“Come here. Be careful,” he says, voice gentler now. He guides you by the waist, helping you down the last few steps until your feet hit the floor.

Your body collapses into his chest on instinct, and he chuckles again, arms wrapping around your middle.

“You okay?” he asks softly, nose nudging yours.

You nod, breath still catching in your throat. “More than okay.”

He pulls back just enough to flash that lazy grin. “Good. ’Cause I’m not done with you yet.”

He spins you back around, pressing you against the ladder. You gasp as his hand flattens between your shoulder blades, your palms bracing the handles above you as his hips roll into yours from behind—slow and grinding, just to let you feel what he’s working with.

“Still want this?” he asks, voice low, gravel edged with need, his hard cock moulding itself against your plush ass cheeks.

You push your hips back into him. “Yes. God, yes.”

There’s a frantic shuffle of clothes, from his end, his swim trunks dropped and kicked away, and then… He slides in with one rapid thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Your mouth drops open, lungs pierced, your breath knocked right out of you.

“Fuck—shit,” you choke, forehead pressing against your arm.

“F-fuck,” he groans, fingers tightening on your hips. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He starts to move, hips snapping forward sharply. Each thrust drives you against the ladder, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the tiny space, the scent of the ocean mixing with the thick heat of your bodies.

Yoongi rocks against you desperately like he’s been holding back all damn day. Like he’s finally been let off the leash. Mercifully he slows down, but he is pulling you up by your hair so your back is resting against his chest. 

“Yoongi,” you say his name breathlessly, and he releases his ponytail grip as you struggle to stay upright. He licks the skin by your ear, whispering dirty things you’ve never heard of in your entire life, twitches against your walls.

“You like that, huh, you little slut?” 

Fuck. You didn’t expect to like the name so much. An involuntary clench of your pussy and you know he got the idea. It’s not just the name, but it’s the way he is literally manhandling you, fulfilling all your small girl fantasies.

“Mmh.”

“Yeah, you love it.” His fingers find the zipper of your rash guard top sliding it down just enough for his large hands to slip inside and grab a fistful of your breasts.

“Your tits are so soft, shit. Wan’ suck on them so bad.” He growls.

“Want it,” you mewl, pushing your chest forward for him to grasp.

“I bet you do, huh. Maybe later, if you’re a good girl I can suck on these. Make you cum just licking at your nipples—want that?”

“Uh-huh, please,” You sound so whiny, fucking back into him as he fondles and tugs and pulls at your sensitive nubs.

“Spit,” he instructs, his palm out. “Let’s get these nice and slick.”

A wet glob from your mouth lands on his palm and he slaps it against your tits. You whimper at the sting, but it’s quickly relieved by the soft massage against your breasts.

“Feel good?”

“So good. Ah–” your words are cut off as he folds you again to his liking.

Yoongi fucks like he is used to being watched, but right now? There’s no audience. No stage. Just you, bent over, body shuddering with every thrust, moaning like you don’t care who hears it.

Your hands scramble for grip, nails digging into your own skin as his rhythm gets rougher. His fingers trail up your spine, tracing the dip at the small of your back before curling into your hair and yanking just hard enough to make you gasp as he continues to rail you from behind.

“Harder, please, Yoongi…”

“So desperate,” he pants, breathing hot against your neck. “So fucking good like this. You feel—” a groan breaks his sentence, “—so goddamn perfect. A pretty little— cocksleeve just for me.”

You’re trembling now, thighs shaking as pleasure coils low and tight in your belly. You feel everything—his cock, thick, hot, hitting just right with every snap of his hips and your body is unraveling fast.

“Ahhh. Right there, fuckin there. That’s it…” You glance over your shoulder, and fuck he’s so fucking hot and he’s fucking you so good and…

“You gonna come for me again?” he growls, one hand sliding between your thighs. “Shit. Give it to me, you dirty fuckin’ girl.”

You cry out as your orgasm slams into you, body clenching tight around his cock, eyes squeezing shut as white heat galvanizes every nerve. Yoongi curses behind you, hips stuttering once, twice—and then he’s coming too, spilling deep inside you with a growl that sounds more animal than human.

You both stay there, shaking and sticky and utterly breathless. The only sound is the ocean lapping against the hull and your heart pounding in your ears.

Yoongi’s hand doesn’t leave your waist, his fingers sink against your soft skin a bit firmer, though somehow gentler, too. Then, his lips press once, twice, thrice, softly, against your shoulder blades. You don’t understand what’s happening. It feels intimate, too intimate.

“Umm…” 

“Is there a bathroom here?”

“A tiny one, yeah. Over there.”

You wince as he pulls his cock out, walls pulsing once as if you wanna keep him inside you if you can. 

“C’mon,” he taps your ass playfully, lightening up the moment. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

By the time the group is back on the boat, skin sun-warmed and bellies full from lunch, the mood is mellow. No one makes any comment as to why you and Yoongi are already on the boat, or why you both have different tops on. You’re slightly relieved. But it also makes questions swirl in your brain that you don’t really want answers to. You shove it in the recesses of your mind and focus on getting back to work. You’re still on duty after all. 

You check on the other guests, making small talk about the yummy lunch spread. You know they had grilled squid, pad thai, mango sticky rice… like every other group you’ve toured, and it’s always a dopamine rush to see everyone so satisfied.

Someone puts on music through a Bluetooth speaker, the kind of acoustic guitar track that feels like the end of a movie. The boat sways gently as it begins to head back toward the mainland.

You pretend not to notice when Yoongi lingers near the bow, waiting until the others have found their seats before sliding into the open spot beside you.

He doesn’t say anything. Just sits close enough that your arms brush when the boat dips slightly with the tide.

You glance at him once. Twice. On the third time, you catch him already looking at you.

Neither of you smiles. He just reaches for the beer you hand him and takes a long sip, throat bobbing.

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable. It’s in limbo. Like neither of you wants to name what happened, not while you’re still in it. Still riding the aftershocks of something way too fucking good to put into words.

At one point, he rests his arm along the back of the bench behind you. His fingers graze your shoulder. And you know it’s not by accident.

Your hand brushes his knee when you reach for a stray towel. Not by accident, either.

The sun dips lower as the coastline comes into view, and a knot begins to form in your chest. The same one he must feel, if the way his hand keeps tightening around his bottle is any sign.

Eventually, the boat eases into the dock. The group starts gathering their things—bags, towels, sun hats, laughter loud again as people gear up to head back to city life.

You move to help untie the mooring lines, and when you return to the deck, he’s standing by the edge, a small bag slung over one arm.

The others are already walking off. Bowing to you and thanking you for the tour. He’s the last one to leave just as he was the first to arrive.

“This is where I’m supposed to say thank you for the tour,” he murmurs, eyes still on the sea.

You nod. “This is where I say, come back anytime.”

He turns to you then. And for a second, the tiredness in his eyes softens.

“Will you be here, if I come back?”

You don’t answer right away. Just offer a small smile. “Maybe.”

He nods like that’s fair. Steps forward like he might hug you, or say something more. Maybe he considered it. But instead, he slips past you with a final glance.

The dock creaks under his steps. He doesn’t look back.

You watch him walk away until he disappears into the crowd.

Your chest aches with something unnameable.

You know how this goes. Men like him probably have groupies all the time, in every tour stop. You were Phuket. And that’s fine. It’s fine.

At least, you tell yourself, he was a really good fuck and you finished twice, which is more generous than any other one night stand or quickie you’ve had. A great story to tell your future grandkids that you once fucked a very famous idol. Okay, maybe not your grandkids. Maybe not a story to tell, actually. (You signed an NDA!) But something to shove in your heart, let every ventricle lock it tight there. But the taste of him is still on your lips, and the way your heart stutters in your chest says otherwise, like the memory is already struggling to be freed.

You’ve just stepped out of the shower when the knock comes. You freeze.

It’s late—well past when anyone should be dropping by. You don’t get visitors out here. Not unannounced. Not at this hour. Wrapped in your towel, you tiptoe barefoot to the door, heart thudding.

Another knock. Slower this time. Softer.

You squint through the peephole and nearly forget how to breathe.

It’s him.

Yoongi.

You open the door, towel clutched tight, words lodged in your throat.

It’s really him. Hood pulled low. 

His eyes sweep over your form, too. Wet, barely covered… but he recovers enough to explain what is going on. 

“I know this is crazy,” he says, before you can even speak. “But I had to see you again.”

He stands there, blinking at you under the harsh hallway lighting in your apartment building, like he’s afraid you’ll shut the door in his face.

“How did you even—?”

“I went back to the pier. Found the old guy? Practically begged him. And he gave me your address.” He exhales, shaking his head with a laugh. “I think he only did it because he felt sorry for me.”

You’re still standing there, stunned, the scent of body wash clinging to your skin.

“Can I come in?” he asks, quieter now. Like he’s unsure of the answer. “You’re in your towel.”

You nod, even though you’re still in shock, stepping aside. You adjust the towel on your chest. 

“Make yourself at home. Let me just put clothes on.”

Yoongi slips off his shoes and steps into your little house like he’s done it a hundred times before.

He looks around. It’s nothing special—worn tile floors, mismatched furniture, an abandoned oatmeal bar on the coffee table—but he doesn’t look disappointed. He looks like he’s breathing for the first time all day.

You grab a shirt and sleep shorts, quickly changing in the bedroom. When you return, he’s leaning against your kitchen counter, eyes scanning the fridge magnets, the little details of your life like they mean something.

You glance up at the clock, 8:30 p.m.

“I was gonna eat ramen,” you say, trying to play it cool.

His lips twitch. “You got enough for two?”

You both end up cooking together. He cuts vegetables with a precision that is completely uncalled for for a cheap pack of instant noodles. You make a comment and he huffs his chest with pride, his knife skills now in full show as he chops the onions in record speed. 

You laugh at how he makes a face and complains about being in tears afterwards.

The kitchen fills with steam and the smell of broth. You sit on the counter while it simmers, beers in hand. He stands in front of you, and your legs part instinctively, letting him through. Like he belongs there.

It’s oddly domestic. Ridiculously comfortable. Why? You still don’t get it.

You’re talking about nothing—favorite childhood snacks, weird airport food, your least favorite sea creatures—when the silence slips in between you.

He’s watching you now, the way you laugh, the way you push your hair behind your ear. His beer forgotten on the table.

You meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, but unlike in the boat, they’re not unreadable. In fact, they’re very much readable and you don’t hesitate to call him out for it. 

“You’re gonna kiss me again, aren’t you?” you raise a brow.

“Been thinking about it since you opened the door in that towel.”

So he does. 

He kisses you slower this time. More careful. Not rushed, not frantic like it was in the boat. He cradles the back of your neck, the other slides beneath your shirt to rest against your waist.

You’re kissing each other like you’re trying to remember. Like you’re trying to make it last. His mouth moves with so much purpose, almost like he’s writing over the hurried, hungry moment from before and replacing it with this—reverence, sureness, clarity.

When he pulls away to breathe, you whisper, “This is crazy.”

He nods. “I know…”

At least you can agree on that.

Later, he’s between your thighs on the couch, and this time, he doesn’t tear at your shorts like he’s chasing a high. This time, he touches you with all the time in the world, so you feel it all. When he slides your shorts down, he pauses, eyes locked on your center, pupils blown.

“I wanted this before,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh. “But I didn’t take my time. I didn’t show you.”

“Show me what?” you ask, breathless.

He presses another kiss to your other thigh, then another, closer and closer to your mound. 

“That you deserve to be worshipped,” he says. He drags his tongue along your puffy folds, slow and tender. You arch into his mouth with a gasp, already so close just from kissing in the kitchen. But maybe it’s also the rasp of his voice, and the refreshing honesty, the way he seems to be convinced that you were special.

So this isn’t like the boat. You, suspended against the ladder. It’s not messy or wild. It’s not just lust, or tension exploding in secret.

This is something else. You, suspended in a different reality. Yoongi, telling a different story with his mouth.

He eats you out with care, overwriting that animalistic fuck at sea. His hands cradle your supple thighs as he buries his face deeper. His tongue works in slow, deliberate circles, building towards your peak. 

“Watch…” he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear between breaths. He puts his index and middle fingers in his mouth, dragging it across his sinful tongue. Teases it against your hole before pushing it in agonizingly slow, relishing the way your body is writhing in pleasure.

When he pushes the length all the way in, you fist the cushions. “Yoongi—oh god—”

His mouth envelops your clit in a gentle suction as his fingers go in and out of you. 

“Ahh, so close…”

He doesn’t stop. Not until you’re shaking again, voice breaking on his name, thighs trembling on either side of his face.

He stays between them even after. Kissing. Calming. Worshiping.

You’re still breathless when he pulls back, lips slick, hair mussed, cheeks flushed with heat and pride. He looks up at you like he’s just done something holy—and maybe he has.

You’re still dazed by the time he pulls back, lips glossy, hair wild from all your pulling but his eyes, soft, focused completely on you. He rises slowly, kissing your stomach, bunching up the fabric as he goes, and you can’t even bring yourself to feel a little embarrassed like you sometimes do, with every cover that’s shed, every piece of you revealed, because he is treating you with the kind of reverence you’ve never felt before. Blind to the flaws, he’s not about to leave any part of you untouched by the pink petals of his lips, helping you out of your cotton tee.

When his face meets yours again, you’re already reaching for him, pulling him close, needing his mouth, his breath, the low rasp of his voice in your ear. You’re so high on this feeling. Of being wanted–no–worshipped, for who you are. He kisses you like a man obsessed, hands sliding under your thighs as he coaxes you onto him, settling you over the hardness pressed tight beneath his sweats.

You’re straddling him now, knees sinking into the couch cushions on either side, your body still trembling from the orgasm he pulled out of you. And then—you pause.

You hesitate. Just for a second.

The reality of it creeps in and your saboteur whispers the insecurities you’ve worked so hard to hide. You’re heavier than him. Curvier, fuller. And even though he just made you fall apart on his tongue, there’s a flicker of doubt when you feel your weight settle onto him.

He notices instantly.

“Hey,” he murmurs like he knows, threading his fingers on your hair to pull you towards him, lips brushing the corner of your mouth. His other hand grip your hips, sliding back to your ass where he gives it a soft squeeze. “Don’t do that.”

“I just…” you look away, voice small. “You sure you’re comfortable?”

He lets out the softest fucking laugh, breath hot against your throat. “Baby, sit on me.”

His grip tightens, pulling your hips flush against him. You feel all of him—thick and very solid right against your slit and you can’t help the moan that escapes you, mixing with his own with the slightest friction.

You whine when he thrusts up just once, just enough to make your clit drag against the bulge in his boxers.

“Shit. You’re so sexy…” he breathes, hands sliding from your hips to your thighs, then your asscheeks, cupping them with both palms. “You feel what you’re doing to me right now?”

You nod, dazed, as you roll your hips, slow and testing. He groans like it’s killing him—in the best way.

“Wanna see you ride me… wanna feel you come on my cock. You think you can take it?”

“Shit, yeah…” You respond with a shameless grind. 

“I think I’m addicted to you,” he smiles, ogling your tits, the way they jiggle for him.

“Yeah?”

He licks his bottom lip, nodding.

“Off,” you gesture to his clothes, his tee tossed haphazardly on the floor. You lift your hips slightly to give him room to shimmy his bottoms down. 

His cock flops against his tummy, heavy and reddened. Your mouth wants it too but your hands are already guiding him to your slick entrance on its own accord like it knows better. You finally sink down onto him and his head drops back against the couch, jaw clenched, eyes fluttering shut.

“Fuck. You feel like heaven.”

You gasp, reveling in the fullness of him, the stretch. You ride him slowly at first. Letting him feel all of you. Letting him watch.

And he does. Watches the way your body moves over his, the way your breasts bounce with every roll, the way you take him so deep he can barely speak.

“Look at you,” he pants, hands moving everywhere—your waist, your ass, your thighs, back to your breasts. 

“Shit…” he pants, eyes moving to where you’re riding him. “You’re so fuckin’ hot… fuckin’ perfect.”

He palms your breasts, groaning low in his throat. “Can’t get enough of these.”

He leans forward, licking the valley of your chest before closing his mouth around your nipple, sucking hard enough to make you cry out. Your walls flutter around him in response, and he lets out a low, wrecked groan, before smacking your ass.

“Fuck!”

“Bounce for me, baby,” he gruffs hungrily against your skin, and he delivers another spank. “Come on…”

You do—riding him harder, feeling him twitch inside you. His mouth stays latched, teeth grazing sensitive skin. He’s relentless, filthy, utterly focused on unraveling you. 

When he finally pulls back, he finds your mouth again, devouring your moans between kisses as you both hurtle toward the edge.

“Gonna cum, Yoongi—” you gasp.

“With me, baby,” he pants. “Fuckin’ cum with me.”

He bucks into you harder, faster, harsher and finally you cum together—this time with his name sobbed into his neck—he holds you there, pulsing inside you as he paints your walls white, whispering things he probably shouldn’t say, things you ache to hear.

His head is fully tipped back on the couch, breathing heavy, body a little glossy from his sweat and yours. The aftermath clings to your skin, but the fire hasn’t burned out. Not even close. You’re not done.

He worshipped you, called you a goddess. But, aren’t you his dirty girl? His slut? And when he looks like the hottest man alive—

He looks up when you shift beside him, his brows pulling just slightly. “Wait. What’re you—”

You don’t answer. Just move lower, letting your hands glide down his chest. His abs twitch under your palms. 

“I wanna taste you,” you whisper. “Suck you dry….”

He groans—low and hoarse—as you move between his legs, your mouth ghosting over the crease of his thigh. He spreads them automatically, lazy and loose, cock already half-hard and still wet with your juices. A drop of cum beads at the tip, glistening.

“Shit,” he breathes, pushing a hand through his hair. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You hum in amusement, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock—slow and soft, just enough to make him twitch. Then again. Firmer this time. And when you wrap your lips around the head and suck, you feel the ripple it sends through his entire body.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he hisses. 

You take your time. Lap him up, your cum and his combined.  Lick up the length of him again, then back down to the base, tongue swirling as he expands in your mouth. The weight of him is perfect against your tongue, the way his girth stretches your lips obscene but delicious.

His hand finds the back of your head, not forcing—just resting there. “God, baby… that dirty mouth…”

You bob your head, eyes flicking up to meet his. He looks fucking ruined already, jaw slack, stomach trembling with every flick of your tongue. You clench your throat against his tip and feel him jolt. You love the way his body reacts, the little tremors in his thighs, the tension in his neck.

“Don’t stop,” he pants. “Just like that—fuck, you’re acting like a real slut right now.”

Yes, fuck. You choke involuntarily, swallowing against his tip. He groans, lips lining up into a smirk. You take him deeper, popping him off first to admire your handiwork, cock swollen and red. Let spit drip down your chin. Let your throat work around him as your hand pumps what you can’t take. You can feel him losing it—his moans getting louder, filthier, raspier. He swears under his breath, head thrown back against the pillows.

“Shit, shit—I’m gonna cum,” he warns, eyes fluttering open to find yours again. “Swallow for me, baby. Be my good fuckin—fuuuuck—”

You take him in faster, tongue firmly pressed against that vein as you slide up and down keeping your lips vacuum sealed, and finally—

He comes with a choked-off groan, hips jerking, both hands tangled in your hair now as his cock pulses on your tongue. You take it all. Every filthy, salty, slimy drop. You swallow without breaking eye contact. Brandish your tongue with pride.

He blinks down at you, stars in his eyes as he releases the grip on your scalp to move to your chin. “Shit. You’re unreal.”

You smile. 

You wish this was real.

Somehow he convinces you to move to the bed so he can clean you up. He emerges from your tiny toilet with a warm washcloth, damping it against your leaking cunt.

“C’mere,” he lays on his side, gesturing you to move into him. Alarm bells sound in your head but you can’t bring yourself to stay away when your lips are already towards each other like magnets.

Yoongi’s hand is splayed across your lower back, fingers idly tracing soft, lazy shapes into your skin. His other arm is tucked behind his head, smug and relaxed and still looking thoroughly fucked out.

The night goes on like that. You kiss, cuddle. Talk about small things—more favorites, random things—the suspicious little mole by his arm, scary things—his upcoming military service. And you share with him your own—favorites, why you sleep with an alien plushie, your uncertain future with your job and the economy going to shit.

Hours after, your heart is unrecognizable, suddenly morphing into the shape of someone you just met. It should feel wrong. You’re still not sure why it doesn’t.

“You’ve ruined me for anyone else, I fear,” he says, voice rough, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips.

Go away, butterflies! You snort into his shoulder. “Pshh don’t lie.”

“Why would I do that?”

You lift your head slightly, looking at him. “Okay.”

There’s a beat of silence—comfortable, but loaded. His thumb still circles lazily over your spine.

“You should give me your number.”

You consider him for just a moment. But decide to shake your head. Not because you wanna see him sweat, but because you resolve not to. 

His brow shoots up to his forehead like he didn’t expect that response.

“If you’re still thinking about me after two years…” you say, not quite looking at him, “Then find me. Just like you did today.”

He huffs, repeating his request. “Or you could just give me your number.”

You meet his gaze now, seriousness in your eyes. “I’m not gonna do that.”

“Why? You were hustling me for it in the boat…” he teases with a sly grin.

“Shut up, I just wanted to help you find your fish.”

He pokes his tongue in the inside of his cheek, still waiting on you, deciphering that look.

“Look. I don’t want to wait around for your text or your call. I’m not that girl.”

“Then don’t,” he says simply. “I mean, you won’t have to. I do plan to call. And I’m a pretty good texter, actually.”

You roll your eyes, tracing a slow line over his chest with your fingertip. “Be for real. You look like the type who won’t charge their phone for days.”

He gasps dramatically. “You’re… super wrong. And I have a fucking cool library of cat memes. You’ll be missing out.”

“I think I’ll live.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

There’s a moment. He tilts his head toward you, so adorable, so boyfriend, like you’re an old couple bickering about something mundane, like who’s gonna check the front door if it’s locked. Certainly not a conversation that basically dictated if you will ever see each other again. 

Then before you know it, you jut your lip, unable to stop yourself from acting cutely.

“Kiss me?”

He grins, cat-like. “I’ll do you one better. I can also give you tongue.”

You groan. “God, you’re cringe. You sure you have fans?”

“A fucking lot of em.” He hovers above you, his inky bangs tickling your forehead. “Shut up and take it.”

Tongue teasing against the seam of your lips, he kisses you breathless for the hundredth time tonight. His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck as he pulls you closer, deepening it just enough, with a lot of tongue, as promised.

It’s that feeling.

You could stay here forever.

And that’s the problem.

For now, you let it be what it is. Just a moment where your body fits perfectly against his, your laugh harmonizes with his, and it feels like—just maybe—you were really meant to find each other in the middle of the sea.

You’re both hovering by the door, breaking every rule in the one night stand playbook. This wasn’t supposed to feel like this..

But it fucking does.

He’s dressed the same way he came in last night—cap tugged low over damp hair that smells faintly of your shampoo. You’re in your oversized T-shirt and sleep shorts, bare feet brushing the cold floor. It makes the contrast feel starker somehow—him stepping back into the world, you still rooted in this little bubble of what the night became.

“You think we'll see each other again?” he mumbles, leaning his shoulder beside the door. It’s a quiet question, almost tossed out like it’s nothing.

“You’re you,” you say simply. “You have the world in your hands. It really just depends on one thing.”

His brows lift, a flicker of interest breaking through the fatigue in his face. “And what’s that?”

“How bad you want this.”

That makes him pause.

His eyes dip down your body like he can’t help it. Then his teeth sink into his bottom lip. 

“Don’t make this harder,” he huffs.

“I’m not,” you whisper back. “I’m just being honest.”

“I don’t want to leave,” he says, barely audible.

You shrug, trying for casual even though your chest feels like it’s about to collapse. “But you have to.”

And that’s all there is to it.

He turns, opens the door.

But he doesn’t leave. Not immediately. He stands there, hoodie sleeves too long around his hands, looking back at you one last time.

His gaze doesn’t wander. It lands right on your face, and stays.

“Maybe next time,” he says, just like he did in the island.

You nod, barely. “Maybe.” You try a small smile.

He hesitates for a second more. Tries that small smile to mirror your own.

Then he leaves. And this time, it’s goodbye.

The door closes with a soft click, and the room is too quiet all over again, everything intact like he was never even there. Except he left with maybe just a tiny piece of you and replaced it with a bit of sparkle that you don’t notice immediately until you step back in your room.

That morning, you fire off a text to Soomchai asking why he gave a stranger your address and demand he send you a generous portion of his seafood pad thai as a peace offering. He obliges.

🗓️ June 2025 -📍 Phuket, Thailand

Life goes on. You didn’t have much choice in that.

The tours picked up again after the rainy season, but not in the way they used to. Fewer tourists, more locals. The occasional influencer. You learned to smile a little brighter. Talk a little faster.

But when things got tight—and God, they got tight—you picked up a second job teaching English online. What started as survival became something sustainable. Eventually, something yours. Your own business, your own pace, your own students across time zones who asked if Thailand really was that beautiful. You always smiled when they did. You tell them how sugary sweet the watermelons are.

And then there was the bracelet.

The one Yoongi left on the nightstand without a word. Understated but expensive in a way you only noticed when you turned it over in your hand and saw the brand pressed into the clasp. You kept it for months. Until the rent was due and the electricity bill was on its last notice and your fridge was nothing but leftover rice, soy sauce packets, and a bottle of beer.

The pawnshop paid you enough to stay afloat for four months.

And then last week—after months of hard work, after finding your footing again, you walked back into that same pawnshop and bought it back. The bracelet. 

Not that he’d ever come looking for it. But it felt right having it again. Like you were reclaiming something. Maybe not him, but you.

You think of Yoongi sometimes. Not in the hopeful, aching, delulu way you used to.

He’s no longer in headlines. Gone stone cold on socials. Even ARMY wants to do a recon mission to find him. But he’s doing his bid to serve his country so the absence must have been necessary for him. At least you hope so.

You play his music when you’re cooking, or on the rare evenings you chill on your balcony with a cold one and the humid breeze and his husky voice and the sweet piano melody lulls you to sleep.

It wasn’t clear then, but it is now. He simply was a blip on your timeline. An unforgettable 24 hours that changed the pace of your heartbeat. And you don’t hold it against him anymore.

If anything, he reminds you of your favorite line from one of his songs: “Future’s gonna be okay.”

And deep down, you really believe that.

It was one of those nights. Adele was blaring through your bluetooth speaker. And you’re out singing the shit outta her in the kitchen, lyrics be damned, crooning in your frilly little apron with a wooden spatula being used as your mic.

“Never mind I’ll find, someone like youuuuu…

I wish nothing but the best for youuuuuuu toooooo

Bla bla bla I bet I remember what you said

La la la sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead…”

It’s probably the onions but you’re now crying and it feels phenomenal and oddly cathartic.

Your phone chimes with a text.

Soomchai: Hey. Sorry I know it’s late. Stopping by to drop off dessert.

Strange, but okay. Everyone likes a freebie. Especially when it’s sugar.

You’re rinsing dishes when the doorbell comes.

You wipe your hands, heart racing for a reason you can’t name. You open the door.

And he’s there.

Not Soomchai.

Min Yoongi.

Wearing a hoodie just like when you last saw him. His hair is a bit shorter, face slightly more gaunt and just as guarded. There’s a weariness behind his eyes—one you recognize instantly.

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t step forward.

Says one thing as you struggle to regulate the thumping of your heart.

“Dessert?”

You stand there, barefoot and blinking at him, stunned into silence. You want to ask why now. You want to ask what changed. But instead, you step aside. Quietly. 

He walks in, a plastic bag with dessert in tow. Takes off his shoes. Looks around like the space is familiar and foreign all at once.

And then—

“I tried to forget you,” he says, voice a bit raw. “Turns out I can’t.”

You swallow hard, emotion clawing up your throat.

“Me too,” you say softly, lifting your wrist so he can see the glimmer of his bracelet. You haven't removed it since you got it back.

He nods, walking closer. He hesitates just long enough to make your pulse quicken.

You stare at him, waiting.

“Wanna try this again,” he says. “If you still want to.”

You don’t answer right away. You just step forward and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the warm cotton of his hoodie. He exhales, slow and shaky, like he wasn’t sure you'd say yes. How could you not? He walks in with a pretty face, and even prettier words.

“I missed you,” you whisper.

“I missed you too,” he replies.

And that night, he proves how much.

“Butterflyfish,” you whisper.

“Hm?” His voice is drowsy, the sound vibrating softly against your forehead.

You tilt your head back, just enough to glance up at him—but his eyes are already closed, lids heavy, expression peaceful in that half-dream state right before sleep.

“The fish you were looking for,” you say quietly. “Back then.”

There’s a small pause. A breath. Then a soft, sleepy grunt of remembrance.

“Ah.”

His arms tighten around you, warm and sure, like he’s tethering himself to this moment. To you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

You feel it more than hear it—his lips brushing your hair, the words settling between your ribs.

“For helping me find what I was looking for.”

The End :)

A/N: … and now we know deez fish. 🤭

I hope this story was like a brief vacay in the tropics just like in Yoongi’s vlog, and made you feel like you were there in the moment with him. 

Well—tell me what you think! Favorite parts? Please leave me a note and reblog if you enjoyed this story! 🙏🏼😘

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human. xo

Check out my masterlist if you want more Yoongi.

Permanent Taglist: (the rest to follow in a reblog)

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@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

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@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm-

@angellekookie

[readerihardlyknowher]

In Every Universe | Pt. 7

Fanfic-ception?

Spencer Agnew x Reader Warnings: None WC: 2,116 Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6, Pt. 7

“Oh, hello all and welcome back to Smosh Pit Theater!” Angela announces as the narrator this time, “Now, we’re gonna be doing another one of our favorites – and your guys’ too – fanfictions, and let me tell you guys before we start, I heard the crew snickering while reading some of them over, so this should be good.”

She takes out the first script and holds it up to read. You try to glance over her shoulder to see who’s in the fic, but her hands are too shaky to see properly.

“Okay, first story! It’s called ‘Five Nights at Smosh’ by Smoshbadussy. I think I’ll have Chanse playing Tommy–”

“–Wow, Angela, making me play the only other gay one here.”

“Shut up! Courtney will play me, Shayne will play Amanda, and Y/n will play… Freddy Fazbear. Spencer, you and I can watch and narrate. Okay! Now let the scene begin!”

You take your script from Angela, briefly glancing over the first line to see who’s in the scene starting off, seeing that you (or well, Arasha) aren’t in the scene yet, so you step beside the curtain, not taking center stage and adjusting your black turtleneck which you haven’t worn since the last Smosh Pit Theater episode. It is late summer in LA after all, and you were thanking god for AC at this moment. As the scene begins, however, you watch as Chanse and Courtney stand next to each other, acting out the scene which you read.

“Man,” Courtney begins, “that was a great crying session! Glad we’ve got the crying bathroom here.”

“Totally!” Chanse’s voice replies. “I don’t even know how long we were in there for!”

Angela narrates the scene as Shayne (as Amanda) steps into the scene and gasps.

“There you two are!” Shayne does a terrible Amanda impression as he speaks. “I had to stay behind to try and find you! Everyone else left! We’re locked in!”

You and the rest of the cast do dramatic gasps. Deciding to read ahead, you see that Freddy doesn’t show up for a while, just doing sounds in the background for most of the beginning. You try to keep your eyes on the three of your castmates, but your eyes wander as they always do, and where do they land again? Spencer fucking Agnew. You don’t even notice that you’re staring until his eyes meet yours. Neither of you move, not looking away, not until he shoots you a cute wink and looking back at the performing cast. This causes you to look away as well, trying to remember that you’re on camera. Though, as the crew is very nice, they’ll likely just edit it so that you’re out of frame for that, which you already mostly are.

The time comes for you to enter in the scene, so you do as the script reads, sneaking up behind the three of them all huddled together. After about a beat, you jump up and “attack” Courtney before you get pushed off and stand to the side. You look down to see your line, only to stutter out a laugh as you read it.

“Roh roh roh roh roh.” The rest of the cast found the line just as amusing as you did, and you all take a moment for a confused laugh, before Shayne speaks as Amanda.

“Uh, guys, I think that’s Freddy Fuzzbear.”

“It’s not Fuzzbear, Amanda!” Chanse yells. All three pretend to run, and you pretend to chase, before you get to center stage and continue the stupidly dramatic scene. Eventually, it ends with you as Freddy killing Angela while the other two escape, which makes the real Angela upset, of course. The scene ends finally and you head back to the chairs you were at before, turning your head to smile over at Spencer.

“Did I do good?” Your still giggly voice asks. His lips part into that iconic smile of his.

“Absolutely perfect,” he replies. Your eyes are drawn to Shayne, who has now taken the next set of scripts and will be doing the casting. You watch from behind and to the side as his face lights up with shock.

“Okay. This one is called ‘April 2nd’ and it’s by Y/s/n-luvr.” You and Spencer shoot each other a familiar, yet not unpleasant expression. “Let’s have Y/n playing herself, and Spencer playing himself, Chanse will play Damien, Courtney as Amanda, and then Angela will play the priest in this story.”

You and Spencer now look confused. A priest? April 2nd? What could that mean? Your eyes narrow as you walk on stage, all of you standing in a half-circle, facing towards the camera. The scene is that you’re on Smosh Games playing together. Looking down at your script you read your line.

“Damn it, Spence, you’re wiping the floor with us! At least give me a chance to win!”

“Yeah,” Chanse says, making his voice deeper to mimic Damien. “Who knew you’d be this good at the game of life?” It’s silent as we wait for Shayne to read his next line.

“Spencer’s eyes darted around, purposefully avoiding Y/n’s.”

Spencer does as the script says, playing up the nervousness a little, before looking down at his script and reading.

“Guys, I told you I’m a gamer. Anyways, Y/n, it’s your turn.”

“Y/n’s hand reaches the spinner on the table, flicking it, moving her car forward, before pulling the card on top of the pile. Once she sees what it says, her face shrivels up in confusion.”

You perform the actions with a perfect amount of stage exaggeration, pretending to pull the card before reading your script.

“‘Will you marry me?’ I didn’t know that was a card in here.”

“Spencer steps out from behind the table, before kneeling down in front of it on one knee.”

“It isn’t, babe. I uh… I wanted to propose to you doing something we both love, playing games together.”

Your face heats up in embarrassment. Someone wrote a whole fanfic about Spencer proposing to you. And now he’s in front of you, acting it out, with all of your friends/coworkers watching with glee.

“So,” his voice cuts through your thoughts. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Spence! I never thought you’d ask!”

“Y/n jumps into Spencer’s arms in a warm and firm embrace, Damien and Amanda cheering, especially Amanda.”

You look over at Spencer, wondering how you should approach the hug. You’re certainly not going to be jumping into his arms as the script says, even if his cutely red face makes you want to do so. So instead you go for the classic side hug, perfect for on-camera romance. You figure the scene must be over now, so become confused once Shayne calls for everyone to get in place for the next positions. Shayne’s booming voice announces that today’s the day of the wedding, and you two are holding it with the Smosh cast and crew.

You gulp down the excitement/anxiety in your throat and wait to the side as the script indicates that you’re not in the scene yet again. You watch from the side as Spencer stands, waiting for you, and Shayne reads out how he’s patiently watching as you begin to walk down the aisle. Rolling your eyes, you do as the script says, rolling yours up to pretend it’s a bouquet. You try to avoid Spencer’s eyes, but fail as you see him wiping a fake teat, which makes you let out a chuckle.

As you finish your walk down the “aisle”, you stand in front of Spencer, holding your hands out as he takes them in his warm, soft ones. You say, “this feels familiar” off-script, which gets a few laughs. A soft smile is present on his face, he waits for a moment, seeming to forget about the whole idea that you’re acting out a scene, before he scrambles to pull out his script.

“Y/n, ever since I first saw you in your interview here at Smosh, I knew you were the one for me. Your laugh brightens my day, your eyes light up every room you’re in. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife. I’m so happy to officially get to call you that. I can’t wait to play videogames and watch movies with you for the rest of my life.”

You place your hand on your heart as he reads, genuinely touched by 1. The fact that someone wrote something so sweet, and 2. The fact that Spencer’s reading it out loud to you so sweetly. The look he gives you shows that while those aren’t his original words, he does mean all the kind things he’s saying, and it only adds to the tightness you’ve been feeling in your chest. Pulling in a deep breath, you look at your part of the script.

“Spencer, you’re my best friend, the love of my life, and now my actual husband–” you see the next line so you turn to look at the camera with a serious expression on your face. “Guys, don’t clip this.” Turning back to the script, you take a deep breath, before pushing the words out far too seriously than you’ve ever said the words before. “And I love you.”

“Woo!”

You shoot a glare to Chanse, before resuming your line.

“And I’ll be happy to listen to you yap about old Nintendo games until the day I die.”

“Now,” Angela’s voice softens the blow after what you said, making you feel a little less awkward having read all that out loud. “Charles Spencer Agnew, do you take Y/n (M/n) L/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The silly, relaxed smile spreads even wider across his face, the sight making your own body relax.

“I do.”

“And Y/n (M/n) L/n, do you take Charles Spencer Agnew to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Your own smile broadens as you don’t even need to glance down at your script.

“I do.”

“Then I hereby pronounce you as man and wife. You may now kiss.”

Shoot, you had forgotten about this, but one look at Spencer’s mischievous smile says all that you need. As the cast and crew around you clap at the scene, you both ever so slowly lean into one another, eyes closing, and just when you know people will wonder if you’ll actually do it, you pull back, pointing to the camera with a smile plastered on your face.

“Got your asses! No more ship material for you! You've had enough!”

Both Chanse and Courtney groan at the psych-out, before you all come back to the chairs and sit together for the recap of everyone’s thoughts. Shayne turns to Spencer to speak first.

“So Spencer, would you ever propose to someone on Smosh games?”

Spencer shakes his head, somehow looking all too calm at this moment. You’re certain the comments later will be noticing how you look a little too nervous from all that.

“I wouldn’t do half of the things in this story, especially not a public proposal. Keep that shit private.” Everyone, including him, chuckles at this statement, before he speaks again. “Also, I definitely wouldn’t invite you guys to our wedding.”

Our wedding.

No one seems to notice the phrasing as they all laugh, and you join in as well as to not stand out on camera. You decide to chime in a little so as to not seem too quiet.

“Also, we didn’t meet during my interview, we met officially like two weeks later. We were both a little nervous to talk to new people at first since it was such a new job and we didn’t want to screw it up.” Spencer nods and puts his finger up to make a point while looking over at you.

“While that is true, that doesn’t mean that I didn’t see you before that and fall absolutely head over heels at first glance, which is something I'd clearly do.”

You roll your eyes at his statement. You know he’s just trying to stir the pot some more and banter with you, but at this moment, you’re still a little overwhelmed with the whole getting married in character as just the two of you. But you’re glad to know that the next fanfiction is getting pulled up and neither you, nor you as a character, are in it, so you’re happy to just sit back and watch, seeing your friends do a silly little scene that someone wrote about you guys. Even if yours and Spencer’s eyes meet a few times throughout in a way which makes you strangely nervous, you feel happy, and even happier when the video finally ends.

Tag list: @lisiliely, aliceblxck, burrowedinnature77, 65percentleg

[blade-dressed-in-red]

» [FUCK, I’M LONELY] «

0:00 〇────── 1:22

⇄   ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹   ↻

paring: noah sebastian x f!reader

content warnings: MDNI, oral sex (male receiving), protected sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool). if you believe i missed anything please let me know! i never want to make anyone uncomfortable :)

word count: 6.1k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. While inspired by real individuals, the characters and events depicted are entirely fictional and should not be considered as factual representations of any real persons. This story is solely for entertainment purposes only and is not intended to be taken as truth or to cause any harm or offense.

A/N: fluffier chapter, hope you enjoy :) also this is my first time writing actual smut so apologize in advance if it sucks lmao

taglist

Reader’s POV

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| But I still think about you all the time

When Tessa and I returned to my apartment the night of Ian’s party, I relayed the time I spent with Noah to her, including the dance floor incident which resulted in her almost yelling “You did what?” in response. Noah and I had kept in contact since that night a couple weeks ago, but both of us had been too busy to actually meet up until today. We actually texted quite frequently, him giving me his number the morning after Ian’s party. We had finally found a good day and time to see each other again, our schedules starting to clear up a bit. I made my way into my apartment after a meeting with a newly recruited band at the record label. I debated on grabbing a snack, but didn’t want to ruin my appetite for the “date” with Noah later. We thought about going back to Ernie’s, but we decided on grabbing some food and coffee, neither of us really being in the mood for getting drinks. I mentioned to him there was a cute cafe down the road from my apartment, so we settled on meeting there at three o’clock. 

I started getting ready for the outing, stepping into the shower to wash the work day off of me. Deciding on an “everything shower” to look and feel my best. I washed my hair with a shampoo that I was less than comfortable admitting the price of, only using it for special occasions (this counts, right?). After applying a hair mask and throwing my hair in a claw clip and exfoliating my whole body, I shaved my legs, underarms, and bikini line. After rinsing out the hair mask, I finished off by cleansing my whole body with some vanilla scented body wash, which lingered on my skin as I stepped out of the shower. I started my elaborate after-shower routine, applying vanilla body lotion to my whole body, focusing on the areas that tended to get a little drier than the rest. I did my skincare, making sure to fully moisturize my face so my makeup could apply as best as it could. Finishing off by rolling on some deodorant and spritzing the same vanilla perfume as that night onto my pulse points. 

As I made my way out of the bathroom to my vanity to start doing my makeup, I glanced at my phone to check the time, 2:13pm. I also noticed Noah has texted me..

“I’m about to head out, can’t wait to see you :)”

The message caused nervous butterflies to flutter in my stomach. I’ve gone on numerous dates with other attractive men, I even enjoyed their company, but something about each one of them made me question the possibility of a second date, whether it be how they didn’t understand my jokes or the way they would stare at me as if I was a piece of meat and they were a starved wolf. The memories made me cringe as I sat down to get started on my makeup. There was something about Noah that made me feel completely different to his company than anyone I had ever met. Ever since Ian’s party, I craved to be back in his embrace. I spent the rest of my time getting ready with an excited nervousness slowly building up in my body. Once finishing my makeup, I checked the time again, 2:39pm. Shit, I need to leave soon. It takes about fifteen minutes to walk over there, and driving there would be almost pointless for the distance. I quickly got dressed. My outfit consisting of a cropped black tank top, black jeans that had rips in the knees, a black and white flannel, and my Docs. I put in some small hoop earrings and adorned my neck with the same chunky silver chain from that night. I grabbed my bag, headed out the door, locking it behind me and made my down my apartment’s stairwell onto the sidewalk. 

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| I don’t know how I’m gonna make it out

The bell over my head rang as I entered the cafe. I immediately noticed Noah sitting at a table with two chairs as he was scrolling on his phone. I checked the time on my phone to see if I was late, it read 2:57pm. Not only was I on time, Noah was early, seeing as he already had a drink of sorts for himself. He was wearing black joggers and a black hoodie with various red and orange designs on it, realizing it was one of his band’s merch pieces as I approached, I noticed I could still only see the same tattoos as last time. As I reached the table to meet him, his eyes immediately averted from his phone onto me, making the butterflies in my stomach start swarming around even quicker.

“Hey! Long time no see, huh?” I half-jokingly greeted while setting my bag on the back of the chair while Noah stood up to give me a small hug. God, I didn’t even realize how much I missed his scent until now. 

“Yeah, it’s been a minute. I’m sorry about that, the band and I have just been so busy these past couple weeks.” He promptly responded before continuing,

“But how have you been?”

“I’ve been pretty good, it hasn’t only been you that’s been busy.” I said with a light laugh,

“Ephemera just signed a new band, so I've been spending a lot of time in meetings and helping organize their recruitment to make it as seamless as possible.” He nodded while giving a small smile in response. Fuck, he’s so pretty. His eyes quickly lit up in realization,

“Did you wanna go order something?” he asked while shifting in his seat to lean his elbows on the table.

“I mean, that’s why we’re here isn’t it?” I quipped while grabbing my purse to head over to the register, him following behind me. I didn’t question it, assuming he was going to order some food for himself since he already had a drink. 

When it was my turn to order, the cashier greeting me as I approached, Noah following behind me.

“Hi, I’ll have a medium dirty chai latte please. Could I get that with vanilla syrup as well?” The cashier confirmed my choice before I continued ordering,

“I’ll also have a caprese panini please.” The cashier typed my order into the register, Noah joined in on ordering which confused me, and also slightly annoyed me. I had no problem paying for him since he covered my bar tab, but he could’ve at least asked first. 

“I’ll just have a garden salad please.” 

The cashier relayed the order to us, confirming it. As I was about to pay with my card, Noah pushed my hand out of the way while handing over his card instead. I tried protesting since he already paid for my bar tab, but he insisted and I didn’t want to cause a scene in the cafe over a bill. I was quickly handed over my drink before Noah and I made our way back over to our table. We made small talk about what we’ve been up to, I told him a little bit about the band we had just signed, he talked about the production of some of the songs he’s been working on with the guys. Our food arrived soon after, us still making idle chatter while eating. Once we finished, he took our plates to the shelf above the trash for the workers to clean up later. When he came back, he began questioning me,

“So.. I heard you met Folio after we.. hung out at Ian’s party.” He smirked at me, with a glint of something in his eyes I couldn’t quite place. 

“Oh yeah, he’s super cool. When I introduced myself to him he kissed my hand as if I were a princess. Oh and when we were doing final shots with Ian he downed his whole glass of whiskey,” I recalled while letting out a small giggle at the memory. 

“Yep, that’s Folio for you,” he replied matter of factly while pressing his lips together. I decided to tempt fate to see how he’d react,

“Kind of unfortunate I met you first, I could’ve totally seen myself being on the dance floor with him that night.” I humorously stated, I knew I was lying. Sure, Folio was pretty attractive, super funny, and a sweetheart, but I knew the second Noah sat next to me that night, I was done for. Something within Noah’s eyes shifted at my remark, something darker, but he tried hiding it with a dry laugh. 

“Well I guess it’s fortunate for me I got to you first, huh?” he quipped, his eyes still hiding something behind them. This was exactly the sign I needed from him. I brushed off his reaction and decided to talk about the other guys I met that night. I found out Matt is obsessed with raccoons and one time Folio had to play a show with food poisoning while on a boat, I almost heaved at the thought. I also learned a bit more about their bassist, Nick. He was a tattoo artist and lived with the rest of the guys. The conversation between us flowed freely, as if we’d known each other for years. 

It was nearing five o’clock, the time the cafe was supposed to close. Noah and I didn’t even realize we were sitting in there for almost two hours until a worker flipped the open sign to close, which we took at our cue to leave the establishment. As we headed out, my heart sank at our time together coming to an end. Before I could wallow in it longer, Noah spoke,

“I have to meet the guys for something in a bit. Let me walk you to your car.” I could tell he wanted to stick around longer, but his work came first and I wasn’t going to be put in the way of that.

“Oh I actually walked here, my apartment is just around the corner.” He looked surprised for some reason, probably taken aback I chose to walk in a city that prioritized transportation via car. 

“Well in that case let me give you a ride home.” He had the same look in his eyes that he had when offering to order me a drink at the bar; hope. But I knew he had somewhere to be soon and didn’t want to impose.

“It’s no big deal really, it’s just around the corner.” I tried assuring him.

“Even more of a reason for me to drive you, come on let’s go.” He grabbed my hand to walk me to his car, the warmth enveloping my permanently cold hand. Once we got to his car, he walked me over to the passenger side and opened the door for me.

“Wow, what a gentleman.” I joked to him, Noah went along with the bit by bowing like a prince before shutting the car door, making me giggle more. Once he got into the driver's seat, I directed him to my apartment’s parking lot, telling him to turn at a corner store to get to my street. He pulled up to the curb, put his hazards on and quickly got out of the car and ran over to the passenger side, determined to open my door for me. As he opened it, he bowed once again while gesturing with his hand,

“M’lady,” resulting in me going into a fit of laughter. If there’s one thing Noah is, it’s preservant. He grabbed my hand as I stepped out and he closed the car door behind me. We stood in front of each other for a few beats in a comfortable silence, just staring into each other's eyes. Wow, his irises looked like tapioca pearls. He softly raised his hand up to the side of my face, grazing his thumb over my cheekbone. The butterflies immediately came back, fluttering faster than ever. I could tell what he was about to ask, but I felt his nerves course through his veins through his hand on my cheek. I decided to take the words out of his mouth,

“Can I kiss you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. His eyes widened at my proposal, eagerly nodding his head once the words sank in. I grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him down for our lips to meet, his other hand going up to hold my face. The kiss was soft and tender, nothing like the kisses he planted on my throat the night we met. He held me as if I was the most precious object he’s ever found and if he held me too tight, I’d break under his touch. The kiss slowly came to an end, our foreheads pressed together. Noah broke the comfortable silence first,

“I had a really nice time with you today,” he said while staring into my eyes.

“Me too, we should do it again sometime,” I responded while planting a kiss on his cheek. We stayed in each other's embrace for a few moments longer, neither of us wanting to pull away but we knew we had to. Finally, I got the courage to let him leave and join the guys for whatever they needed to do. I gave him one last peck to his lips, said my goodbyes, and made my way up the stairwell as Noah leaned against his car and watched me get inside safely.

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| Fuck, I’m lonely. Fuck, come hold me

It’s been a week since Noah and I went to the cafe. I didn’t want to be too overbearing, but the second I stepped foot back into my apartment it took everything inside of me to not ask him to come back whenever he was done with his obligation with the guys. I tried keeping myself busy with work to get my mind off of him, but anytime I received a text from him my heart soared in my chest. I couldn’t wait to see him again. 

He brought up the idea of getting dinner together, nothing too fancy. We settled on going to a small Italian restaurant about a twenty minute drive from my place. I debated on driving there myself, but the thought of possibly dealing with traffic on top of the anxiety of seeing Noah again didn’t sound too fun, so I ordered an uber. Since it wasn’t anything fancy, I wore casual clothes. I settled on a black knit sweater, loose-fitting blue jeans, and my Docs (of course). I got the notification that the uber would be arriving soon, so I quickly left my apartment. I made my way to the curb and waited for the uber, which didn’t take too long. After confirming with the driver, I got inside and let Noah know I was on my way. The ride was mostly silent, which I wasn’t sure if I was thankful for or not. The nervousness was slowly building up in my stomach, so I just scrolled on my phone as a distraction until I arrived at the restaurant. 

Noah let me know he had arrived about five minutes before I got there, keeping up with his punctual track record. I quickly found my way to the booth he was sitting at, water and bread already at the table. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt, black slacks, and his usual white slip on Vans. He stood up as I approached the table, engulfing me in a hug as he mumbled “I missed you” into my hair. I could feel my face heat up at the sudden display and words of affection, his face matching my own. We made ourselves comfortable in the booth, asking each other how our week has been since we last saw each other. I gave him updates on the band we had signed the week prior, the production side of things working on a new single. He told me a story of him and Jesse, one of his housemates, attempting to clean their pool which resulted in Noah falling in when he lost his footing on the edge. The idea made me tear up in laughter. Soon, we ordered our food, both of us deciding to stick to water for the night. I ordered chicken alfredo and Noah got toscana soup. We continued talking over dinner, making jokes to one another. At one point, I thought it’d be funny to play footsie with him under the table, at first he paused all movements but quickly leaned into the bit, gently kicking my leg in response as a blush creeped onto his face. Eventually, we finished our dinner, the waiter offering us dessert options we politely declined to. As the waiter came with our check, I quickly handed him my card so I could pay this time since Noah paid twice now, and I was determined to make it up to him. As the waiter walked away, Noah spoke, a surge of random confidence entering his voice,

“You know, I told you you could make it up to me in other ways.” Which I playfully rolled my eyes at, the waiter coming back with my copy of the receipt. Noah and I got up to leave, and as I was about to place the order for my uber, an idea came to mind. As we exited the restaurant, I asked,

“Would you like to come over?” As the words left my mouth, I knew he knew what I was probably insinuating. The memory of him making me climax with just his hand on the dance floor flooded my head, causing my face to heat up. He blinked down at me a few times with a slightly shocked expression written on his face.

“I.. I’d love to,” he said with a soft smile.

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| Spent all night just trying to get closer

We repeated the actions from the previous week, him opening the passenger door for me, then darting over to the driver’s side to join me in the car. I instructed him on how to get to my apartment complex from where we were at, but he remembered most of the way once we were in my neighborhood. 

“Turn at the corner store,” I directed him.

“I remember, Y/N.” He said sardonically. 

As we arrived at my complex, I pointed to where the visitor parking was and he pulled into a spot, turning off the ignition. We sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just softly staring at each other and enjoying each other’s presence. Figuring if we stayed there a little longer it’d turn awkward, I swiftly got out of the car and inhaled a deep breath to try and steady myself. Noah followed suit, meeting me behind his car in front of my building. He looked at me for further instruction, I grabbed his warm hand and made our way up the stairwell to outside my apartment. 

“Well, this is me.” I stated as I unlocked the door. 

My apartment wasn’t too big, but I made it cozy and comfortable for myself. The entryway flowed directly into the living room where I had a black couch with various pillows and blankets I got from Homegoods during Halloween time, with a black coffee table littered with remotes, an empty mug I forgot to put in the sink before leaving, and some random papers from work I hadn’t found a place for yet. The TV stand was on the opposite wall of the couch, adorned with various DVDs (physical media isn’t dead) and movie memorabilia. I had fairy lights surrounding the room to give off some ambience in the later hours of the day. My walls were covered with various movie and music posters, and even a couple vinyl records displayed above my record player between the living room and kitchen. As Noah entered, his expression softened, like he realized that welcoming him into my home was far more intimate than he originally thought it would be. I put my bag on the hook near the door and quickly untied my boots and took them off. Noah noticed my action and repeated it by kicking off his Vans. 

I walked over to the couch, Noah trailing behind me as I made myself comfortable in my corner. He sat a bit rigid, resting his hands on his knees while he looked over at me. 

“So.. Did you wanna watch something or are you just gonna stare at me the whole time?” I teased him. He quickly looked away as a blush crept onto his cheeks, not realizing he was staring. 

“Sure,” he quietly stated. Anxiety and awkwardness started seeping into me, so I handed him the remote as I got up.

“Put on anything you’d like. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna use the restroom.” I’m not sure why I was getting nervous, his fingers have literally been inside me. The memory of him licking his fingers replayed in my head on a loop, making my body heat up at the thought. When I stepped into the bathroom, I ran my hands under cool water, hoping it could literally and figuratively cool me down. After drying my hands, I gave myself a once-over in the mirror and fixed my hair. I realized I was a bit warmer than I preferred, so I stopped into my bedroom to switch into a black tank top and grey sweats. As I returned to the living room, I noticed Noah got himself more comfortable on the couch, removing his hoodie while I was out of the room. He had turned on an anime I hadn’t seen yet which piqued my interest. I realized just how heavily inked he was, tattoos littered up and down his arms and further down his chest from what I could see near the hem of his t-shirt. 

“I see you’ve made yourself at home.” I stated while sitting back in my spot on the couch.

“Well, I found a good show to watch and figured I might as well get as comfortable as possible.” He responded while nuzzling into a blanket he was using as a pillow. We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, just watching the characters on the screen. After a bit, I felt his eyes on me again, which I looked over at him and met his gaze. 

“Come here,” I requested, wanting to be closer to him. He sat up from his spot, leaning closer into me. I placed my hand onto his cheek, admiring the pretty boy sat in front of me. I could feel how warm his face was becoming, his blush returning to his cheeks. He placed his hand on my thigh, longing to have any physical contact with me but not wanting to cross boundaries.

“I really wanna kiss you,” he whispered to me, his eyes flickering between my eyes and my lips.

“Then kiss me, idiot,” I grinned at him. He swiftly leaned down and our lips connected. It started off soft and tender, but quickly heated up. It was evident both of us were yearning to be in each other’s space again. Without breaking the kiss, I sat up and threw my leg over his thighs so I was straddling him. I felt his cock quickly growing through his sweats beneath me, making me let out a small moan against his mouth. His hands were placed on my hips, slightly rocking me back and forth against him. I broke from our kiss to trail kisses and bites down his neck, similar to what he did to me that night at the bar. I rested one of my hands against his arm and tangled the other in his hair. He was breathing heavily and let out small whimpers and groans whenever I sunk my teeth into his neck. I spent much of my time on one area between his neck and collarbone that seemed to be his sweet spot. I returned to his lips, the kiss was a mess of spit and teeth. I put my hands under his shirt, hinting at wanting it to be removed. He got the signal, and quickly took it off. I sat in awe at all the ink displayed over his chest and tummy. I traced my fingers over the various designs, but he quickly put one of his hands behind my head to bring our lips together again. Our tongues fought for dominance, a dance that went on for a few moments as I kept grinding against him, both of us letting out small whimpers into each other’s mouths. I finally pulled away to ask him.

“Did you wanna move this to the bedroom?” to which he nodded while putting my arms around his neck to secure me against him as he sat up to carry me into my bedroom. The action made me giggle, feeling like I was climbing on him like a tree. There weren’t many other rooms in my apartment so he quickly found my bedroom in the small hallway from the door being open with purple fairy lights on to brighten the room. He delicately placed me on my bed as he stood at the foot of it, admiring my bedroom. It was decorated similarly to the rest of my apartment with a few more personal touches added. I hooked my leg around his to pull him towards me, bringing his attention back to me. He leaned down between my legs and caged my head between his arms. We continued our kiss as I ran my hands up and down his lean arms up into his hair. He pulled away, leaning up a bit to bring his hands down to the hem of my shirt,

“Can I take this off?” He politely asked me, I quickly nodded, wanting to feel his skin against my own. I sat up a bit to assist him in removing the fabric, he threw it somewhere on the floor behind him. His eyes trailed all over my bare chest, making me feel both nervous but turned me on even more. I grabbed him by his arm to pull him down, to feel him against me. He rocked his hips into me as his hand ran up and down my torso, exploring the curvature of my body with a delicate touch. He grabbed one of my boobs in his hand, rubbing his thumb softly over my nipple. His other arm was next to my head to give him stability. I decided he had already tasted me, so now it was my turn. I quickly flipped us over so I could be on top of him again, bringing my lips to his neck, continuing to kiss and bite all over. I slowly made my way down, trailing wet kisses and soft bites down his chest and tummy. As I reached the top of his sweats, I looked at him through my lashes,

“May I?” I breathed out as I curled my fingers around the waistband. He eagerly nodded as he bucked his hips up, giving me access to remove his sweats and boxers, throwing them somewhere behind me on the floor with my shirt. His cock slapped against his stomach as I removed them, my eyes widening at how big he was. I knew he was going to have a big dick, but jesus christ. Before I could think anymore, I brought my hand around the base of his cock, licking a stripe from the bottom to the tip, slowly licking his head with my tongue. My teases resulted in low groans and whimpers from Noah’s throat. I looked up at the boy I wanted to unravel, seeing I was close to being halfway there already. His brows were furrowed together, his lips swollen from our kisses, and his hazy eyes were half-lidded while meeting my gaze. While maintaining eye contact, I put him in my mouth, watching as he threw his head back against the pillow from the action. “Fuck,” he muttered, grabbing my hair in his hand but didn’t push, it being more of an attempt to ground himself. I started working my tongue around him, bobbing my head up and down as he let out the most beautiful noises I’ve ever heard from a man. The size of him resulted in me producing a lot more saliva from my attempts to take in all of him. I had never really ever been that into giving head, but I had a change of heart this time around. I continued working him until he softly pulled my head back. “If you keep going, I’ll cum..” He practically gasped out as I sat back on my heels, wiping away the mess of saliva and precum from my lips.

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” I retorted, raising an eyebrow. I quickly got up and grabbed a condom from my dresser drawer. I returned to my spot by his legs.

“Can I put this on?” I asked while holding up the condom, his eyes slightly widening at the request, but accepted it by a nod. I took the condom out of the wrapper and rolled it onto him. I quickly removed my own sweats and panties in one go. He sat up and quickly grabbed me to turn us back over so he was above me again. He kissed me deeply, pulling away and looking me in my eyes. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked softly.

“I’m one hundred percent positive.” I responded, smiling at him as I pulled him down to kiss him again. He leaned back onto his heels, staring at my pussy. He spat on his fingers, bringing it down to lubricate me a little with his saliva. The contact made my hips buck against his hand as he trailed his fingers over my clit and entrance. He bent down to hover over me again, giving me a peck to my lips before he looked down to guide himself into me. His eyes flicked up to me as he was about to enter,

“If you need to stop at any time, please tell me.” He politely told me.

“I will Noah.” I assured him. I felt him slowly slip inside me, I gasped at the pressure. His strokes started small, almost teasingly. He gave me time to adjust to his size, at first it hurt a little bit, but was quickly replaced with pleasure. I grabbed his head to bring him down to kiss me as he finally fully slipped inside of me.

“Noah..” I breathed out, his thrusts started off slow so he didn’t possibly hurt me. I bucked my hips against him to signal to move faster, which he followed up on. I could already feel my orgasm building inside of me.

“Fuck, Noah.” I whimpered out. 

“I know, baby. God, you feel so good.” He grunted. He placed all his weight onto his elbow as his other hand made its way between our bodies. I felt his thumb start tracing circles on my clit, making me let out a whine as my eyes practically rolled to the back of my head. The contact is exactly what I needed to come undone underneath him. I felt my walls tightening around him, and I could tell he was fighting off his own release by his growling and whispering swears into my ear while his thrusts were becoming sloppier and harder. He started slowing down.

“I’m not cumming until you have at least one more.” He quipped, grabbing my leg to rest it over his shoulder, making his cock sink further into me. His thumb was still tracing messy circles over my clit, determined to draw another orgasm out of me, which I felt quickly approaching. The stimulation of the new angle, driving himself deeper into me, feeling all of him, made my head fuzzy. After a few strokes, my second orgasm hit me, this one more intense than the last. I felt my vision start to blur at the edges, making me shut my eyes as his hips continued snapping into me. I felt myself still pulsing around him as he removed my leg from his shoulder, craving to be closer to my body, his head settled in the cook of my neck. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” He breathed out while haphazardly thrusting into me, making me clench around him more, which was all he needed to finish. I felt his cock twitch inside of me before slipping out as he relaxed his body over my own. This would usually feel overwhelming from the size of this man, but something about it made me feel safe, like he was a security blanket. He raised his head, grabbing my chin with his fingers and kissed me. The kiss felt deep and meaningful, like he was saying everything he wanted to express without speaking a word. He eventually pulled away but continued gazing into my eyes, his own still had a slight haze over them with his swollen lips curved into a soft smile.

“That was..” He started but trailed off at a loss for words. I giggled before responding,

“I won’t speak for you, but that was amazing.” I softly stated, him nodding in agreement before resting his head on my chest. 

We stayed in bed for a few minutes as I played with his hair and rubbed his scalp. We were both coming down from our highs and just enjoyed the feeling of the other’s skin pressed into our own. Noah eventually got off of me and out of the bed to discard the condom. He found his underwear in the pile of clothes we left on the floor and put them on while throwing my shirt and panties over to me. Before he had the chance to further dress himself, I asked,

“Do you wanna spend the night?” Shit, was that too much to ask? I started rambling to cover for myself, not wanting to seem too needy. 

“It’s fine if you don’t.. I.. uh.. just figured it probably already kind of late so I thought I’d ask. B-but it’s completely fine i-” He cut me off by bending down and kissing me.

“I’d love to spend the night, Y/N.” He stated as he pulled away, giving me a grin which I matched. 

Noah returned to the bed and I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he lazily played with my hair. We stayed like this for a while before I realized I should shower before I fell asleep. I perked my head up, resting my chin against him as I looked up at him, his eyes were barely open but widened to meet my gaze. 

“I’m gonna go shower, would you care to join me?” I asked him lightheartedly as I sat up. He quirked a brow before answering,

“It would be my pleasure,” he replied with a smirk. 

The shower with Noah wasn’t sexual in nature, but sensual. While we both ran our gazes over each other's bodies numerous times, it felt like it was out of adoration rather than ogling. We shampooed each other's hair, him needing to bend down in order for me to lather his hair up properly. After thoroughly rinsing conditioner out from our hair, we washed the other’s body. I took my time while scrubbing the loofah over him as I admired the various ink adorning his skin. While all of them painted stories that I wasn’t aware of and didn’t feel the need to question him about them in the moment, the one that really caught my eye were the lines across his chest that went over his nipple. I had a couple smaller tattoos so I knew the pain associated with getting one, and the thought of a needle going over my own nipple various times made me cringe on the inside.

“So, how bad did that hurt?” I asked as I wiped away the soap from his chest. He looked down to see which ink I was referring to. 

“Like a bitch, but thankfully didn’t last long.” He stated. 

After our shower, I made sure to do my usual skin and body care routine and managed to find a spare toothbrush for Noah to use for the night. Once I was done, I came back into my bedroom to find Noah already tucked into the bed scrolling on his phone but quickly averted his eyes up to me.

“Hi.” He stated while giving me a toothy grin.

“Hi.” I replied as I made my way over to join him in bed. I was quickly engulfed by his large arms. The fairy lights were still on, engulfing his face in a purple glow that somehow made him look even more ethereal. 

“I had a good time today.” He softly spoke.

“I did too.” I responded. We stayed like that for a bit, just admiring each other until exhaustion from the day caught up to us. I remained in his arms, the feeling his breath against my neck lulling me to sleep. 

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| i don’t want to get over you

» [FUCK, I’M LONELY] «

0:00 ──────〇 3:37

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tag list: @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lil-garbitch @fadingangelwisp @dontwantthemoney @heyyoplayer @death-ofpeace-ofmind @thatchickwiththecamera @shayeanna-ashlie @supersquirrel1996 @overmydeadbodysblog @lacy1986 @renegadebirch @bloody-spades @pipidoll @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h

[slasherslittlesimp]

Cursed (Avengers X Reader)

Part One

PART TWO

Natasha's hands skillfully fly across the keyboard at one of the computers as she types in code after code, likely bypassing any security and downloading the files to her drive. Her eyes flicker around the screen, taking in whatever information she sees. Cap remains by the door, keeping watch for anyone who might try to sneak up on all of you.

"I believe I've found her file but it's quite large Cap." She doesn't take her gaze from the screen as she reads through the first page. "We'll have to wait until we get back to the compound to read through it more thoroughly but I can at least figure out the basics now."

"The basics are all we really need right now." He responds, glancing at you before returning most of his attention to the doorway.

Your nerves grow slightly knowing that they'll be reading through everything that you've been through at some point. Your life up to this point hasn't been the prettiest and it's not exactly something you want anyone else knowing. You know you don't have much of a choice though.

"Let's see..." Natasha squints slightly as she reads over the small writing on the screen. "Says here that her name is (Y/N) (L/N) and that she's roughly twenty-five years old." She pauses, clicking a few times as she likely searches for the more important information. "Ah, here we go. Her ability is called 'Cursed Speech'. Apparently whatever she says pretty much happens. That explains the muzzle."

The man seems intrigued with this as he finally moves away from the door to come read over her shoulder. They both remain silent, not giving you any clue as to what they're reading. Your eyes flicker between them and the door, nervous that someone can come through now that they're not keeping watch.

Thankfully, once the files are completely downloaded they both step away, Natasha grabbing the drive before turning towards you. "Let's go." She jerks her head in a motion to signal that you need to follow them once again.

The three of you exit the server room- Cap leading followed by you and then Natasha taking up the rear. You're pretty certain the formation is both to keep you from bolting and to also keep you protected should anyone show up. You're not complaining either way since you're not being left behind this way.

They lead you down many different hallways without ever once second guessing if they're going the right way. The man must have one hell of a memory if he's able to remember his exact route that he had taken. It's even more impressive knowing that everything's backwards since he's going the opposite way. If it was you, you would've already gotten lost. If the two abandoned you, you'd never find your way to an exit or even back to your room.

Cap goes around one last corner before finally reaching a large metal door at the end of a corridor. It must be the door they entered through since the locking mechanism appears broken allowing him to swing the door open effortlessly. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sudden brightness before slowly opening into a squint. You've forgotten how bright and intense the sun can be after spending so long in barely lit rooms. While the light is a bit much, the warmth from it spreads pleasantly over what little skin you have showing.

You don't get much of a chance to bask in it as Natasha grabs your upper arm, tugging you along until you're boarding a jet that has a few others on it. You have no idea who any of them are but they all seem wary and confused at your presence. You probably look insane with how you're dressed but there's not much you can do about it.

Natasha pushes you down into a seat before clasping a buckle over your lap and moving towards the cockpit. You watch her go before turning to take a better look at the other people around you. The first one to draw your attention is a rather nervous looking gentleman with dark hair that has speckles of gray in it and glasses. His hands rub together as he likely tries to push his nerves away but you can tell from the way he keeps glancing at you that your presence isn't helping.

The next person you examine is a man with sandy colored hair who seems to be looking over his quiver of arrows. Every now and then his gaze will move from what he's doing to you yet his face remains neutral, not letting you know how he feels or what he's thinking at all. Next to him is a young female with long dark hair and a pretty red jacket. Her gaze hasn't left you a single time since you've gotten in the jet though it looks more like she's looking through you rather than at you.

Cap is the next person you look towards, finding him standing tall with his muscular arms crossed over his chest as he has a hushed conversation with the last person in the group- a man sporting red and gold armor. Caps brows are furrowed as he talks, showing that he's thinking quite hard about something. The man in armor seems a bit more nonchalant as he nods along to whatever is being said while at the same time scrolling through a tablet. Their voices are too quiet for you to hear what they're saying so you turn your attention away.

The man with the arrows sends one last glance your way before putting his things away and moving towards the cockpit. Shortly after he disappears from sight the jet whirs to life as it lifts from the ground. Your stomach flips as you close your eyes, trying to ignore the fact that you're no longer on solid ground. The idea of traveling extremely fast while hovering thousands of miles away from the ground is unnerving, especially when the last time you experienced it was long ago. Nobody else seems to be bothered by it except maybe the guy with glasses but he just seems anxious in general.

"Why's the chick dressed like Hannibal Lecter?" Someone finally speaks up, breaking the tense silence. You keep your eyes closed as you listen but you're able to tell who asked based off of the direction the voice came from. Only two people were standing off to your right and you already know what the one sounds like which narrows it down to the man in armor.

"That's what I'd like to know." Cap sighs as he glances over to you. "Nat and I managed to get her files so we can go over them all together once we return to the compound."

"Let's just hope she's not a cannibal." Armor man mumbles which earns him a slight scolding from Cap. The rest of the ride is silent after that which you're somewhat thankful for. You hate listening to people talk about you. You'd much rather sit in complete silence regardless of how tense or awkward it is.

After an unknown amount of time, the jet finally lands at what you're assuming is the compound. You're led off of the flying death trap as soon as the back of it is open by Cap who has a firm grip on your shoulder. Despite your curiosity, you keep your gaze locked to the ground, not wanting to show interest in your new prison. The entire walk is quiet as Cap takes you into a building and down many hallways before finally stopping at a room.

Entering, you're met with a single metal table and chair sitting right in the middle of the room. The two way mirror on the wall confirms that it's an interrogation room. Cap releases his grip from your shoulder as he orders you to sit down. Doing as you're told, you watch him exit without another word. He's probably going to check your files before bothering with questioning you. It's the smart thing to do, after all.

Taglist: @desiree-lee @seventeen-x

[izzyhandsdeservedbetter]

SWITCH

@ghost-inthemirror

Andrew Minyard had never been one to care about attendance. If he didn’t feel like going to class, he didn’t go. Simple as that. The professors knew better than to question him, and the other students knew better than to snitch.  

Which was why, when he walked into his philosophy seminar after skipping the last two sessions, he expected at least some kind of pointed remark from the professor. Instead, the man barely glanced up from his papers before nodding at him.  

“Ah, Mr. Minyard. Good work on the surprise test last week. One of the highest scores in the class.”  

Andrew froze.  

A test?  

He hadn’t taken a test.  

His fingers twitched toward his armbands, but he forced himself to stay still. There was only one person who could have possibly pulled this off, and the realization settled in his gut like a stone.  

Aaron.  

But how the fuck had Aaron managed to not only sit through his philosophy class but pass a test on material he’d never studied?  

Andrew didn’t bother with subtlety. He turned on his heel and walked right back out of the classroom.  

---  

Aaron’s dorm room was unlocked—because of course it was, the idiot—so Andrew didn’t bother knocking. He shoved the door open and stepped inside, eyes immediately landing on his twin, who was hunched over his desk, scribbling something in a notebook.  

Aaron didn’t turn around.  

“Matt,” he said absently, “can you drop this off at Andrew’s door before you head out for your date with Dan? Don’t tell anyone it’s from me, just say it was a random classmate or something.”  

He held out a book blindly behind him.  

Andrew took it.  

Flipping it open, he found pages upon pages of meticulous notes—his notes. Or rather, notes for the classes he had skipped over the past week. Philosophy, sociology, even his criminology seminar. All of them were there, organized by date, with key points highlighted and references neatly cited.  

Andrew stared.  

Aaron finally turned around, presumably to say something else to “Matt,” and froze when he saw Andrew standing there instead. His face went through a series of expressions—shock, panic, resignation—before settling into a scowl.  

“What?” he snapped.  

Andrew held up the notebook. “Explain.”  

Aaron rolled his eyes. “It’s not rocket science. You skipped class. I went instead. Took notes. Got your stupid test done.”  

“You don’t even take philosophy.”  

“Yeah, well, I read your syllabus.” Aaron shrugged, like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just spent hours studying material that had nothing to do with his own degree. “It wasn’t that hard.”  

Andrew’s grip on the notebook tightened.  

Aaron sighed and turned back to his desk. “Just take the damn notes and go. I have a lab report to finish.”  

Andrew didn’t move.  

Aaron glanced back at him. “What?”  

Andrew considered him for a long moment before finally saying, “You’re an idiot.”  

Aaron scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”  

Andrew left.  

But the notebook stayed tucked under his arm.  

---  

Aaron woke up with a pounding headache, a fever, and the distinct feeling that death would be kinder than whatever this was.  

He groaned, rolling over, and immediately regretted it when the room spun.  

Fuck.  

He was sick.  

And not just I-can-power-through-this sick. No, this was I-might-actually-die sick.  

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. With great effort, he reached for it, squinting at the screen.  

Matt: Dude, you good? You missed your 8 AM.  

Aaron groaned again.  

He had classes. Labs. A shift at the hospital.  

He was fucked.  

Dragging himself upright, he fumbled for his laptop, intending to at least email his professors, when his door swung open.  

Andrew stood there, arms crossed, looking as unimpressed as ever.  

“Stay in bed,” he said.  

Aaron blinked. “What?”  

Andrew didn’t elaborate. He just walked over, snatched Aaron’s laptop from his hands, and dropped a bottle of water and a packet of painkillers onto the nightstand.  

“I’ll handle your shit today,” he said.  

Aaron stared. “You—what?”  

Andrew gave him a flat look. “You went to my classes. I’ll go to yours.”  

Aaron opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “Andrew, you don’t even know neurology.”  

Andrew shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”  

Aaron wanted to argue, but his head was killing him, and honestly, he was too tired to fight.  

“Fine,” he muttered, collapsing back onto the bed. “But don’t come crying to me when you fail my neuro exam.”  

Andrew snorted. “Go to sleep, Aaron.”  

---  

Andrew had severely underestimated what he’d signed up for.  

Aaron’s schedule was brutal. Back-to-back lectures, labs that ran for hours, and a mountain of pre-med coursework that made Andrew’s criminology classes look like child’s play.  

He sat in the back of Aaron’s neurology seminar, staring blankly at the professor’s slides.  

What the fuck was a hippocampus?  

He lasted exactly twenty minutes before pulling out his phone and texting the only person he could think of who might actually help.  

Andrew: Explain neurons to me.  

Katelyn: ????????  

Andrew: Now.  

She called him.  

“Why do you need to know about neurons?” she asked, voice equal parts confused and suspicious.  

Andrew didn’t answer.  

She sighed. “Fine. But you owe me.”  

---  

By the time Aaron was well enough to return to his classes, Andrew had:  

- Sat through three organic chemistry lectures (and understood none of them).  

- Nearly set a lab on fire (accidentally).  

- Endured Katelyn’s relentless tutoring (which, admittedly, was the only reason he hadn’t completely failed Aaron’s pop quiz).  

- Threatened Kevin into reducing Exy practice hours (“We don’t need to practice three times a day. When the fuck is Aaron supposed to study?”).  

- Gotten into a shouting match with a pre-med senior who had dared to imply Aaron was “slacking” (“Say that again. I dare you.”).  

And now, as Aaron walked into the dorm after his first day back, he found a protein bar, an energy drink, and a neatly printed study schedule waiting on his desk.  

He turned to Andrew, who was sprawled on his own bed, pretending to read.  

“What’s this?” Aaron asked.  

Andrew didn’t look up. “Shut up and study.”  

Aaron rolled his eyes. But he didn’t hide his smile fast enough.  

Andrew saw it anyway.  

---  

Neil Josten took a hard fall during practice, skidding across the court and tearing open his knee.  

Abby was halfway across the field, but before she could reach him, Aaron was already there, dropping to his knees beside Neil with a first-aid kit in hand.  

Neil blinked up at him, surprised. “You don’t have to—”  

“Shut up,” Aaron muttered, already cleaning the wound with practiced efficiency.  

Andrew watched from a few feet away, arms crossed.  

Neil smirked. “You’re not so bad, Minyard.”  

Aaron scowled. “Don’t get used to it.”  

But when Neil limped off the court later, his knee neatly bandaged, Andrew caught the way Aaron subtly checked to make sure he was okay.  

Andrew said nothing.  

But that night, he left an extra energy drink on Aaron’s desk.  

Aaron didn’t thank him.  

He didn’t have to.

[bishovapls]

Ok, is there any chance that you write a part 2 to "the pretty sounds u make"?

I mean, this is just so good that I think I can't get enough of it and if there's a part 2 with Carol inviting reader for a date right in front of Wandanat and they going absolutely feral about it would be so much fun

Thanks for writing this masterpiece!!!

Ahhhh, you’re the first person to ever request something from me!! I’m honestly so excited and grateful! 💙.

I can definitely do that for you. In fact, as soon as your request popped up last night, I dove straight into writing, but I’m only about 2k words in because, you know, adult responsibilities had to be dealt with 😩. I won’t be done today, but I wanted to give you a little teaser so you know it’s coming.

Only Wanda is there when the reader gets asked out, and the rest of the plot will explain why, but don’t worry...Natasha will be there later to make sure reader knows exactly who owns them (hope this is okay).

The smut’s not quite in yet, but here’s a sneak peek of dark Wanda after hearing Carol’s proposition.

As always, NSFW below the cut 😉

Wanda was eerily silent as the two of you cleaned up the broken coffee pot, but the sharpness of her breath was impossible to ignore. Her hands trembled ever so slightly, and it was clear she was fighting something. Some dark desire that had taken root inside her, a simmering need she was trying to control.

You glanced quickly around, relief washing over you when you saw the place was clear. No one to witness whatever was about to unfold. You moved to the door, flipping the sign to closed as if marking the boundary between the world outside and whatever was waiting for you inside.

When you returned to kneel beside Wanda, paper towels in hand, the glass was in the bin, but her eyes were still fixed on the spill of coffee. Every inch of her body was taut, coiled, like a tightly wound spring ready to snap.

You wiped up the mess, taking extra care to get every last drop, even though you knew she wasn’t paying attention to that. She was watching you, studying every movement, every shift in your posture. You hesitated for just a moment, then whispered, "Mommy?"

Your voice came out softer than you intended, trembling slightly, betraying the nervous excitement that rushed through your veins. 

You knew exactly what kind of mood she was in. This wasn’t the woman who caressed you to sleep or soothed you with gentle words. This was the side of her that demanded everything and took what was hers with a force you could never deny.

She didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, but you could see it, the tightening of her fist, the tension in her jaw. Wanda was struggling to hold herself together, not to give in to whatever force was swirling inside her. It was both terrifying and…thrilling.

"Mommy… I’m yours. All yours," you said, a little breathless, your words coming out almost like a plea. You needed her to hear you. To feel your devotion, your submission.

She finally looked up at you, and your breath caught in your throat. Her eyes were cold, unrecognisable. There was something in them that made your pulse spike, a jolt of fear curling low in your stomach. You felt a rush of real fear, the kind that made your knees weak, and your breath shallow.

"Mommy, please… please," you whispered, your voice barely audible, a tremor in your words as your body reacted to the mix of fear and something else, the something inside you that wanted this, craved this. Loved this. 

Wanda’s voice broke the silence, low, smooth, and terrifyingly calm. "Get your things, little girl. We’re going home."

[dollfacefantasy]

IF I WAS A RICH GIRL ♡

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x bratty!fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson

summary: for the first time ever, jason needs dick's help with a client. upon meeting you, dick understands why. you're a handful - bratty, needy, the whole deal. luckily for everyone involved, dick has a soft spot for brats and jason has a tendency to follow in his footsteps.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hair pulling, praise/degradation, gun play, brat taming, dacryphilia

wc: 12.9k

a/n: i did not intend for this to be so long, but i am physically incapable of shutting the fuck up unfortunately. anyways comm for the sweetest ever @fearcvlt. thank you again hehe. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

part 2

Dick watched the numbers above the elevator door light up one at a time. Every couple seconds, the soft glow moved one space to the right. It started with 1, 2, 3 and now landed on 67, 68, 69. Finally 70 lit up and a soft ding sounded through the cabin.

He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and took a deep breath. When Jason had texted him a few days ago, he made this situation sound dire.

Dick had been in the middle of working out, pulling himself up and down using the rings hanging from the ceiling of the gym. The chime of his phone pulled him from the focus that came with his muscles burning and sweat dripping from his hairline.

'Are we allowed to drop clients?' was the first message he saw.

But then another quickly followed.

'It's been a full twenty-four hours.'

At first he wondered if it was a joke, but Jason didn't really joke about clients.

He tried thinking to himself what case he'd even been assigned to. That gig at the shipping yard had wrapped up by now, and that stalking victim had canceled on them for another security firm.

Then he remembered. That Monday Jason was supposed to start with the senator's daughter.

Something must have really been wrong for him to want to drop that. It was one of the best jobs they'd been offered since starting up their agency. It was full-time protection, meaning round the clock, 24/7 pay.  Also a high profile contractor like a senator meant word of mouth getting around to his colleagues, similar types who would want some security for their own twenty-something-aged brats.

'We can't drop her. Maybe I can see about someone swapping cases with you. Did something happen?' was all he responded with.

The reply was instant. 'I'll take literally anything else.'

'She can't be that bad,' he sent in return.

'You take her then. Find out for yourself.'

He rolled his eyes at his dramatics. There was no way you could really be so awful. While Jason didn't joke about work that much, he loved to complain. Shaking his head, Dick typed back a final message.

'Keep your head for the next few days. I'll come see what I can do over the weekend.'

So that was what he planned on doing for at least the next five or so days. He had said the weekend, but it was Thursday now, and he didn't have to do anything else till next Wednesday. Plus, he figured Jason would try his hardest to rope him in for longer if things with you hadn't changed.

He walked into the entrance hall of the penthouse, eyes briefly scanning his surroundings like they always do upon entering somewhere new. The design was sleek. A classy white end table sat below a large mirror with delicate decorations adorning its surface. A plush rug rolled down the hallways to a set of French doors.

One glance around told him this was all expensive. Every detail chosen by someone young, experiencing their first taste of independence. It was cute in a way. At least he thought so. He could only imagine the distaste Jason had reacted with upon seeing the pink candles or vases of dainty flowers.

He continued in the direction of what he assumed was the living room. Though he had only taken a few more steps across the fuzzy rug before he heard loud voices muffled by the doors ahead. He paused and narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to determine the severity.

The first voice he knew belonged to Jason. It boomed with annoyance, loud and brash. The other was higher pitched.  He waited a few moments, feeling out the rhythm of the argument. Back and forth, back and forth. There was no third party, which meant it wasn't any serious danger.

He took another breath and braced himself to be put in the middle of whatever spat you two were having. Jason still hadn't been clear about what his exact problem with you was, so he didn't know what to fully expect. From the few things he had said over the phone, he gained the impression you were just a spoiled rich girl, and Jason's temper wasn't made to deal with any of those.

Grabbing one of the bronze handles, Dick pushed the door open. From where he stood in the alcove that held the doors, he didn't think either of you had noticed him enter.

The scene looked as he expected. Jason leaned against the pristine ivory island in the kitchen while you stood at the back of the large taupe sectional that spanned through the living area. You had your arms crossed over your chest, your foot looking as if you had just stamped it on the hardwood below. Jason, on the other hand, appeared as though he was about to explode. His fingers rubbed at his eyes before he spoke.

"For the last goddamn time, I'm not taking you, so find something else to do.”

"No. It's not your job to tell me what to do. You're only getting paid to follow me around where I wanna go," you retorted.

"I'm not taking you to the fucking mall!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms open, "Christ, you have a cell phone, a laptop, and an ipad. You could probably even use that watch you got on your wrist to shop."

"But it's not the same," you pouted.

Upon hearing that, it seemed like Jason's brain was actually on the verge of malfunctioning. In an attempt to help out, Dick walked the rest of the way in.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice much cooler than the tense argument that preceded it.

Immediately, both sets of eyes were on him. Jason's features melted into relief while yours swirled with curiosity.

"Is this your boss?" you asked. Your arms fell to smooth out the small shorts you had on before they rose again to make sure your hair was in place.

Meanwhile, a sneer spread on Jason's face again. "No. We're partners," he said.

"C'mon, Jason. I like to think of us as friends before coworkers," Dick teased and flashed a smile. That earned him one out of you in return. Right then, he knew this would be easy.

He headed over to the area where you stood, and acting charming as ever, stuck his hand out in search of yours.

You gladly returned the exchange, offering your palm up for shaking like a trained puppy.

"I'm Dick Grayson," he introduced. He wrapped his fingers around your hand with a firm grip.

Your smile widened before those soft lips parted to expel the syllables of your own name. You were being so much sweeter now that your sights had been set on someone besides Jason. Jason, who was currently watching with a mix of disbelief and irritation as your bratty temperament melted away before his eyes.

"Would you mind showing me where I could put my stuff?" Dick asked.

"Oh sure," you answered, "Follow me."

You waved him in your direction before prancing through an archway that led to a small area with a few doors and the stairs.

"I'll just show you where everything is while we're at it. That's the main bathroom. That's the office. And then up the stairs is where all the bedrooms are."

He followed behind you through the small room and then up the curved staircase. Jason trailed behind him, watching like this mask of pleasantness would fall away to reveal your true attitude any second.

Your hips swayed as you walked up each step. He felt like the way your ass jutted out a little as they did was intentional, but it didn't matter. Dick could be professional when he needed to be. He kept his eyes averted and stayed along your path.

After the stairs, you led them down a thin strip of lofted walkway that overlooked the living room and kitchen. With one hand on the silver railing, you explained each door that lined the wall as you went.

"That's the smaller living room. That's the second bathroom. That's the guest room Jason is staying in. And here is yours," you said as you got to the second to last door. You pushed it open and gestured proudly at the space.

"Looks nice. Thank you," he said before heading in. 

He tossed his bag on the bed and glanced around. It truly was nice. The bed looked like one out of a five star hotel. The end tables were polished and seemed as though they'd never seen a visitor throughout their time here. And then there were the floor-to-ceiling windows against the farthest wall. There was nothing to see outside right now. This floor rested so high up, clouds engulfed the glass panes.

"Mhm," you hummed before biting your lip, "And my room is the last door. There's always extra space in my bed if you don't like this one."

"But I thought you said I was a perv for suggesting that?" Jason interjected and shot you a glare from where he leaned against the door frame.

"Ummm, yeah, you are," you deadpanned, "I'm offering it to him, not the other way around like you did, obviously."

"It was a joke," Jason grumbled.

Before the tension could bubble over again, Dick laughed and looked over his shoulder at your teasing expression. "You know, I appreciate the offer, but this looks like more than enough for now."

"Ok, well let me know if you change your mind. I'll let you put your stuff away while I figure out what we can get for dinner," you told him before stepping back out of the room.

Dick waited a few moments to make sure you were really gone before turning to Jason and smirking. 

"That's who you've been having such a hard time with?" he mocked.

"I swear that's the best she's been all week. When it's just me, she doesn't quit. She goes on and on and on. Whining, complaining. It's borderline harassment to be honest," he responded and crossed his arms.

"Oh come on," he laughed, "She's as hard to deal with as a kitten."

"For you," he responded, "Once she gets bored of you, she'll act the same."

"Guess we're banking on the fact that I'm a lot more entertaining than you then, huh?" he teased.

"Shut up," Jason scoffed before turning and leaving the room too.

Over the next couple hours, Dick got settled in his room and then migrated back downstairs to feel out the situation here. Already he could guess why Jason didn't like you, but if things continued the way they were, he wouldn't mind slipping into his place. A full day of pay, and all he'd have to do is flirt back and forth with you every now and again.

In the living room, you laid back in the corner of your couch. Some tv show played as background noise while you scrolled through your phone. He made an effort to talk to you, to subtly observe more of your personality. Fortunately, you were pretty open to his attempts. Once he found a subject you liked, it was like flood gates opened. You couldn't have been more eager for someone to talk with.

Poor thing, he thought. You had everything you could want, but you were still so starved for attention.

As he listened to you chatter about your favorite tv show or something that happened last summer between you and your friend, he could see the quirks in you that drove Jason up the wall.

For one, you had a tendency to pout. He didn't think you were even aware of it most of the time. While he found it kind of cute, he knew that every time your lip started to puff out, it would send Jason's blood pressure through the roof.

You also were very touchy. Over the course of the short conversation, you drifted from your end of the couch to the cushion right next to Dick. Whenever you laughed your hand landed on his forearm. If he joked around in return, you'd lightly shove his bicep.

It was all pretty juvenile, methods of flirting used most often by kids with their first crushes, but he didn't mind. You were sweet and well-intentioned. Just so desperate to feel wanted.

And admittedly, he played into your desires a bit. He knew Jason would have lambasted him if he was down here right now instead of taking a break in his own room, but Dick didn't really care. Technically, he wasn't the one on call. Though even if he was, it's not like was overtly flirting with you. He was just having some fun and keeping you entertained. A few compliments and well-placed touches. That was it.

He straightened out his behavior a little by the time Jason did return downstairs to join you both for the dinner you'd had delivered.

You stood at the end of the table, graciously distributing the containers of food while they took up a seat on either side of you. Things went pretty smoothly overall. Once you each had a plate with your dishes of choice, you sat down and began to eat.

"You have that big kitchen," Jason commented after a few bites, looking over his shoulder at the room in question, "Do you ever actually cook anything?"

You narrowed your eyes for a moment but responded in the most calm tone of voice. "Yes, I do. But not for you."

Luckily, all that came from the tense exchange was Jason rolling his eyes. Neither of you seemed interested in launching into a full argument when you could focus on the food in front of you instead. A few minutes of quiet passed, but then conversation sprouted back up without an issue.

You asked them how they got into “bodyguarding,” making sure to add that modeling had to have been on the table for Dick. As with most interactions, he responded with a charming laugh. Though this time Jason interrupted to give you the spiel about their past - they worked together under the same mentor at a security company and decided to branch off and start their own as partners.

"Yeah, but why?" you questioned when he concluded his story, "Isn't it like... scary? You have to protect people from stalkers and stuff? That sounds so nerve wracking."

"It's not if you're good at your job like us," Jason dismissed.

Dick saw the frown appear on your face, and he swooped in with an answer of his own to make you feel less discarded. 

"It can be tense sometimes on rough cases, but it's really rewarding, you know? Getting to help people and protect them from the worst parts of life gives us a purpose," he explained.

"That makes sense," you nodded before laughing a little, "I could never do what you two do. I'm wayyyy too scared of being shot."

Dick chuckled, but Jason's look didn't soften at all.

"What is it you plan on doing with your life?" Jason asked.

His tone was short, prime for judgement, but you tried to let it roll off you. You kept your shoulders back as you answered the question, like it was a part of an interview you'd prepared for.

"I'm not totally sure what I'm gonna do with my whole life, but in the spring I'm gonna start working for my dad as an aide. Like when he takes office and everything."

"So what was the point of you going through college when you're guaranteed a job like that anyways?" he asked next.

Dick shot him a look across the table. It was one thing to respond to your whining, but picking a fight was another. He could see the question pricked at a real insecurity of yours. You bristled and tried not to let the weakness show itself.

"Because," you huffed, "I'm still supposed to know things and have skills of my own. And we're not like the Kennedys or something. I can't get by on my last name forever."

"Right..." he said and redirected his focus to shoveling some more food into his mouth.

Again, Dick took it upon himself to resuscitate the mood. He chatted with you some more about school and potential areas you were interested in for your future.

As things wrapped up and the three of you cleared the table, he finished by offering to take you on that shopping trip you'd been asking about earlier tomorrow. That seemed to be all it took to fully brighten up your mood. You eagerly accepted before heading off to your room for the night.

After you'd left, the room clouded with silence for a minute. The two of them migrated over to the living room. Both him and Jason took a moment to enjoy the peace that plumed up in your absence. It dissipated when Dick decided to speak again.

"You know, part of the reason she gets snippy with you is because you're not exactly pleasant to her," he started.

"No, she doesn't like me because I won't play into her flirty bullshit like you do," Jason replied and shrugged.

"It's more than that. You dismiss almost anything she says, and you try to provoke her into lashing out at you."

"Like she doesn't do the same to me? All that whiny, pouty shit she does for you, she tried for me at first, but I hurt her feelings because I didn't act like it was cute. It's pathetic"

"Alright, but as the professional, you're supposed to keep the appearance that she doesn't bother you. I'm just saying you could try playing it cool around her," Dick suggested.

Jason glared at him. "I wasn't hired to be nice to her."

"You're not getting paid to be an asshole either."

The harsh look deepened in the other man's green eyes. "What are we getting paid to do here exactly? She's not in any actual danger."

So that was his problem.

Dick sighed, but before he could provide some form of justification, Jason was pulling up your case files on his phone. He turned the screen to Dick.

"Look. Read it. Why'd we even accept this bullshit? He basically admits there's no real threat in the request," he said.

Dick took the small device and scanned over the document with his eyes. He didn't have to read it to know why they accepted it, of course. The money was great and the connections they could gain from it would be even better for the firm. He still skimmed the tiny words staring back at him though. The request for protection that asked you be assigned a full time guard in the potential event of political retaliation. Political retaliation that both sides of this arrangement knew was not coming. Your father had won his race by a comfortable margin. No one even attempted to contest the result. All of his positions were uncontroversial as well.

It was obvious to Dick that he and Jason were simple pawns in a power struggle here. They were the expendable pieces your father could tote around and punish you with for whatever reason. Maybe you'd been too outspoken about something. Maybe you had a tendency to get too wild when you went out. Maybe you'd just outsmarted the last move in this lifelong game of chess.

Whatever it had been, this was just the next subtle method of control. He'd seen it before in rich kids like you. Shitty as it was, it was part of this business.

Handing the phone back to the other man, he answered. "You know why we took it. And I know it's frustrating, but not every case is gonna be something out of an action movie. If he wants to pay for someone to ease his mind, then that's just how it is."

"He hired a babysitter for an adult," Jason spat with disdain, "That's all this is. The only thing I'm protecting her from is maxing out daddy's credit card or taking a laced bump at some shitty party."

"There are worse jobs in the world than watching over a pretty girl, Jason," Dick said and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh bullshit. This isn't just watching a pretty girl. This is listening to her run her fucking mouth. It's putting up with her bitching and moaning in my ear 24/7 about how she doesn't want me here."

"Look. It's not that hard to figure out," he interjected, "She was spoiled rotten growing up, but that also means she probably had a lot of people trying to control her life. She's getting her first real taste of freedom being out of college and living on her own, and then her dad takes it away by hiring us. Can you blame her for being a little pissy about it?"

"So what? Poor little rich girl. She has people who want to be involved with her life and make sure she has a future," he scoffed, "If she doesn't like that, she can take it out on her dad. Why do we have to deal with the fallout?"

"I know it's not what you want to be dealing with, but you're smart enough to know that things aren't that simple," he responded, "Everything in this place - the clothes she wears, the furniture we're sitting on, I'd bet even her phone she carries around - doesn't belong to her. None of it comes from her own money. Maybe her name's on the title of this place, but you know it's not really hers. She probably plays nice and puts up with things that don't really bug her to make sure he doesn't start taking it all away or offering to give it to her in the first place."

Jason still wouldn't drop his scowl. He understood Dick was right, but you were so goddamn irritating, he didn't want to admit you deserved even the smallest degree of grace.

"You don't have to act like a boyfriend or even her best friend," Dick offered as a compromise, "All I'm saying is that if you weren't so aggressive from the jump, she might feel more inclined to listen to you."

"She's a grown woman," Jason grumbled with hushed incredulity, "I shouldn't have to handle her like a little girl or a puppy or something."

"You're right. You shouldn't have to. But it's the way it is, so adapt or drive yourself crazy. It's your choice," he said.

"I guess," he huffed before slumping back in his seat a bit.

Dick relaxed back against the couch as well. Looking at Jason now, he couldn't help but think that part of the reason the two of you butted heads at every opportunity was because you both were in the running for the most headstrong person he'd ever met.

The next day, Dick made good on his promise to take you shopping. The two of you drove to an upscale mall and spent the next few hours roaming the wide corridors. He stayed close to your side, his muscular arms covered in the bands of your shopping bags as you led him from one place to the next. You talked his ear off, but he didn't mind. It was better than lounging around the penthouse and listening to you and Jason bicker. 

And in your defense, while you had him carrying all your stuff, you took plenty of chances to offer to buy him a few things. Anything his eyes lingered on for more than two seconds had you playfully waving around your card. Each time he'd decline. He had to keep some appearance of doing his job. Jason would never let him hear the end of it if he thought he indulged in this shopping spree too.

He was still somewhat playing his part though. His eyes scanned the exits and entries (when they weren't lingering on how your lip gloss shimmered on the soft curves of your mouth). He was focused on making sure no suspicious characters tried approaching you (when he wasn't ogling the way your t-shirt stretched across the swell of your chest). 

"So only one last place, right?" he checked while you typed away on your phone.

"Yup!" you chirped.

You trotted along a few more paces before coming to a stop in front of a store entryway framed by two dark, tile pillars. The words above glowed in a light, classic font. He eyed it and then shifted his gaze to the display windows. That was when he realized this was a store for lingerie.

He let out a laugh and shook his head. "Really?" he said, raising his brows at you.

"What?" you asked, "Don't tell me you're one of those guys that gets all weird about bras and panties. What do you think I'm wearing under this?"

"I don't really think it's my place to be imagining that," he chuckled.

"Well you don't gotta imagine right now. Just stay close to me while I pick some things out," you replied with your own little smile.

Unlike Jason, this wouldn't be a hill he died on. He followed you into the store and remained quiet within a few feet of you while you checked over the stands for items you liked. You seemed pretty picky when it came to this stuff. Your face contorted into contemplative expressions, weighing if you should go with the lacy black or the baby pink.

"So... do you actually have someone to wear these for or...?" he asked while trying to seem aloof.

"I wear them because I like them," you corrected while shooting him a playful glare, "But to answer your question, not yet."

"Ah, yet," he grinned.

"Mhm. It doesn't hurt to be prepared," you said.

He huffed out a small laugh and kept in line with your footsteps. After a while, you selected a few pairs and seemed almost ready to go. You weaved through the array of perfume stands and seasonal racks. On the way to the register though, your eyes caught on a pair of silk pajamas. They were dainty, thin, and striped. Just the kind of thing that looked as though it was sewn specifically for your closet.

"Oh my gosh. Dick, can you hold this?" you said. The question was pointless as you'd already shoved the basket of panties into his arms before the words finished leaving your lips.

You pranced to the display with the sleepwear and looked it over with adoring eyes. With a wave of your hand, you summoned a nearby attendant to ask for a set you could try on.

Moments later the worker guided the two of you towards the back of the store, showing you the changing area. It was nicer than most shops. A large mirror sat on the wall that was covered in floral paper. Next to it a small door concealed the private fitting section, and in the center was a couple seats.

The woman waved you in. She glanced over each of you with a tight-lipped smile before adding that "your boyfriend" was welcome to wait inside for you.

He opened his mouth to amend her definition of him, but before he got the chance, you chimed in with a cheerful "thank you!"

His eyes zipped from the exiting staff member to you. Upon looking in your eyes, he could see your amusement dancing there. You grabbed his free hand and led him to the plush couches. Then you took off with the pajamas in your hands into the private part of the room.

"So boyfriend, huh? Is that my title now?" he called to you through the open space above the door. While you changed, he set the endless supply of bags down on the loveseat across from the one he chose to sit down on.

"It could be," you replied, "Isn't it like safer if bad guys think a girl has a boyfriend?"

He'd dealt with clients flirting with him before, but never one as flagrant as you. Only one day with you, and he could tell you'd never experienced true shame in your two decades and some spare years of life.

"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled in return. Even though your confidence humored him, he couldn't deny the part of him that was flattered. The same part that got turned on.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and you strutted out. Your luscious legs stretched out from the tiny shorts that bedizened your hips. The button-up top hung off your shoulders and framed the curves of your waist. With a few steps, you stood in front of him, as if you were a model in a fashion show organized personally for him.

"Exactly. So, how do I look, darling?" you teased, doing a little spin for him.

He reached out and grabbed your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your flesh squish beneath the pads of his digits. Your eyes connected with his as he dragged them up from your waist to your face.

"Stunning, sweetheart," he played right along.

A small giggle trickled from your lips before you turned to the side to assess your appearance in the mirror. He kept his grip on you. Both his and your eyes glided over your frame, lingering on his hands clasped around the bottoms.

"I'll have to get them then," you decided after a few moments.

His pupils shifted up, sparkling under the fluorescents on the ceiling. "I think that's a great choice. Though when you wear them later, you may want to fix the pocket," he said.

Trailing his right hand up from its post on your hip, his fingers coasted over your breast to the shirt pocket that was flipped slightly inside out. He pushed the material back into place, delving two digits beneath the silk flap. The tips teased the curve of your breast. They dragged on the skin just above your nipple through the cloth.

Fortunately for you, he pulled them out seconds later, allowing you to step back and hide the way the small bud had begun to pebble for him. The smirk on his face hinted that he still knew though.

"Ok, well I'm gonna change back. Then we can check out and go home. Maybe we could get some food on the way back or something," you said, laying out the plan as a distraction for the blooming heat you felt in your abdomen.

"Yeah, sounds good," he responded and shrugged.

He watched as you capered back behind that door. You were a tease through and through, and that couldn't have pleased him more. It's what made this all so easy. You could flirt and bat your eyelashes and speak in that seductively innocuous tone, but when you caught scent of any real arousal, you pulled back quicker than a skittish dog. 

It could make it easier for him to remain professional. A way of keeping him from crossing the line that was supposed to divide him and all clients. But it also made you so much more tempting. An elusive prey animal just begging to be caught.

The rest of that day followed the plan you had set in the dressing room.

You checked out of that last store then had Dick carry your collection of purchases to the car. The two of you picked up some food on the way home. Despite your lavish taste in just about everything else, when it came to dinner, you were a pretty cheap date.

When you made it back to the penthouse, Dick shoulders the weight of everything you bought again. The two of you don't bother asking Jason for help, knowing it would only cause more drama. Instead, he let the thin handles on the bags of clothes and jewelry and trinkets dig into his skin and nearly cut off his circulation.

Besides that though, everything went fine. Jason gave you both a look of disdain when he saw the evidence of your shopping trip, but he didn't comment. 

Maybe he was taking Dick's advice.

That seemed to be the case even as you came trotting down the stairs not too long later. You'd changed into your new silk set. The fabric didn't leave anything to the imagination in terms of your figure and that was what it did cover. Most of your legs and a sliver of your chest remained exposed to any eyes that should wander by.

You had a little smile on your face as you entered the room. Of course, you knew how you looked. You were bratty, not stupid.

Upon spotting Jason in the kitchen, you headed in that direction. He'd been standing in the corner where the counters met, eating something for a few moments. The calmness of solitude that had previously filled the space dissolved when he caught sight of you.

As much as he couldn't stand you, Jason was still human. His brows raised and his eyes stuck to your scantily-clad body, raking over your curves and smooth skin. You watched with absolute joy as he finally acknowledged you in some way other than a nuisance.

It only took him a few seconds to catch himself, but the damage had been done. You bounded over to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. He kept his eyes down now, intent on trying not to gauge if you were wearing a bra under that skimpy thing by how your breasts bounced.

"So Jason... What did you do while me and Dick were out?" you asked.

"Desperately awaited your return," he grumbled sarcastically.

The question obviously meant nothing to you. He could hear it in every syllable. It served as a placeholder. A plausible reason you could linger around him to flaunt yourself.

His response brought a laugh out of you in spite of the backhanded nature of the statement. "You could've come with us. It probably would've been more fun," you smiled.

"For you maybe."

"Well yeah for me," you said. You pushed off the island and stepped a few paces closer to him. "What do you think of my clothes? They're new. Dick said he liked them."

You did a small twirl like you had in the dressing room. An attempt to lure Jason's gaze back onto you. He didn't take the bait so easily though and locked his gaze on the food he'd been snacking on.

"If you got Dick's opinion, then why do you need mine?" he shot back.

"Cause I want it," you answered.

With a deep breath, he brought his eyes back to you. He could control himself, both his temper and other kinds of impulses. Plus, there was no way he was going to let you win. You had enough smugness in your voice as it was. No way was he gonna make the problem worse by letting you feel as though you had him intimidated.

"Looks the same as the ones you normally wear," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but I didn't ask that. I just wanna know if you like them."

"Why? Are you gonna throw a fit or something if I say no? Call daddy and have him hire someone with better taste to babysit you?" he mocked.

That put a scowl on your face, which made him smile. The two of you worked like a seesaw of emotions, one extreme on each side, animosity shifting so rapidly the bar could never rest at a balanced middle.

"No," you scoffed with a glare, "I was just trying to be nice to you-"

"Oh really? It felt more like you were fishing for compliments to me," he said, "You bought the clothes, so obviously you like them. Why do you need me validating your choice?"

God, this felt so much better than getting worked up over you. Watching your face morph into increasingly petulant expressions gave Jason more joy than imagining the day a month from now when this job would finally be done.

"Whatever," you huffed and rolled your eyes before retreating to the living room to be with Dick.

That was fine with him. He didn't cause a blow up or have to deal with Dick's lecture while simultaneously getting you out of his immediate vicinity. Though, that was probably for the best for reasons other than his anger too. 

He would never ever admit it out loud, especially not after the point he'd made about it last night, but seeing you in that tiny get up, all desperate for his approval... it had him craving some alone time to quell the heat he felt beginning to simmer within.

He cleaned up his plate that was now empty and then ran a hand through his hair. His eyes shut for a moment, and he let out a sigh. After a few moments, he decided he didn't need to shove down the feelings. He'd been pent up enough over the last week. Nonstop hours of you trying to get under his skin and make him snap. It left him yearning for some outlet, for some relief. Maybe that was why he was so pissed off all the time.

Right now, Dick was with you. The chances of you wandering up to his room to bother him were slim. He could sneak off for a while, spend some quality time with his right hand and chill the fuck out.

So that's what he did. He headed off upstairs and shut the door to his room.

Now you sat beside Dick on the couch as an old movie played on the tv. You were so close to him that your bare thighs rested against the grey cotton of his sweatpants.

It wasn't that late, but only a third of the way into the movie you felt yourself sinking into the cushions behind you, tiredness overtaking your body. Your eyes grew droopy and glazed as you tried watching the action playing out in front of you.

A few minutes later, you started to accept this might be a pointless effort. In your defense, shopping was a tiring activity! Malls were big and required lots of steps to get through. When you combined that with doing all the spending math in your head, talking to Dick, and trying things on, it made sense that you were beat.

You let your head slump over and hit his shoulder. Your temple thudded against the curve of it as a yawn made its way out of you. You brought your legs closer to your body and wrapped one of your hands around his bicep as well. If you were gonna go for an inch, why not take the whole mile?

His head swiveled in your direction when he felt the gentle contact. He didn't protest like you knew Jason would have though. Rather, he let you grip onto his muscular arm and rest against his broad frame before bringing his free hand over to smooth down the nape of your neck.

"Are we still playing boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked.

Your eyes fluttered open as you tilted your face up to look at him. After a moment's thought, you bobbed your head in a lazy nod.

Upon seeing your confirmation, a lascivious smile spread across his lips. He leaned back further into the couch himself and stretched his legs out onto the extended part of the sectional. Once he was adjusted, he pulled his arm free of your grasp. You showed slight dismay at first, displeased with the loss of support and heat. Though it quickly evaporated as he draped it over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

"Well if I was your boyfriend," he said, drawing out the syllables pointedly, "I think we'd be sitting like this."

Even in your tired condition, you felt a bit flustered. You wouldn't show that though. It would take more to get you to willingly show how he affected you. You snuggle into his sculpted side and nestle your face against his chest. Below his skin, you hear the faint but steady beat of his heart.

"You're probably right," you mumbled against the fabric of his t-shirt, "It's comfier like this."

"Mhm. Safer too," he teased.

You nodded, not needing words this time around. One of your arms encircled his waist to keep you snug against him while you continued to watch the movie. 

It was honestly a miracle in your own eyes that you hadn't passed out yet in the few seconds you'd been sitting like this. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, like fresh laundry. And now his hand had started rubbing up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his palm and the perfect amount of pressure seemed like it would be lulling you into unconsciousness in minutes.

But then he spoke again.

"And if I was your boyfriend, we'd be doing a lot more than just watching this movie," he whispered.

The words hit your ears in soft puffs of air, sending chills down your spine. You bit your lip and willed your eyes to open wider before looking at him again.

"What else would we be doing?" you asked.

"What do you think? With you sitting here, all cute in your little outfit..." he began, lowering his mouth to your neck. A soft gasp left you as he began laying kisses up your throat to your ear. His teeth scraped over your earlobe before his tongue grazed the skin behind it. "I think I'd have a pretty hard time keeping my hands to myself," he finished lowly.

The skin of your shoulders prickled beneath the satiny material of your top and continued to do so down your arms and legs. You weren't completely inexperienced, but you'd never had such intense attention focused on you. You'd never felt like the center of someone's entire world like you did right now.

Your hand lands on his thigh, gripping the meat of it with your fingers. You turn your head into a brief kiss before pulling back an inch.

"If you were my boyfriend, you wouldn't have to keep your hands to yourself," you murmured.

And that was the last thing he needed to hear.

He dove in and kissed you like it was the millionth time. His lips moved against your own sensually before his tongue found its way into your mouth. A tender moan slipped out of you in response. He played the part of your boyfriend better than any actual candidate for the role before him.

Your palm migrated up from his thigh to his lap. With a few delicate swipes, you coaxed a bulge into rising against the fabric of his pants. Your hand then fled the area and trailed up his abs onto his chest. Every inch of him felt as though it had been crafted by divine beings. A gift for anyone who should have the pleasure of experiencing him.

He tugged you closer, guiding you so close that you were all but in his lap. His right hand groped the dough of your ass while his left crept onto your breast and gave it the squeeze he had wanted to earlier in the changing room.

You squeaked like a chew toy in response, which drew a laugh out of him. He teased the mound again by kneading it a few more times. His fingers dragged across the soft curves before zeroing in on your nipple, tweaking and pulling at the sensitive little nub. That brought some whines out of you.

"My little girlfriend's so responsive," he whispered. 

He knew he was acting like an idiot right now. He wasn't just crossing every client-contractor line in the book, he was practically leaping over them with joy. If Jason came down here and saw this opening to a porno playing out on the couch, he would never hear the end of it. But he just couldn't stop now. The way you arched into his touch was fucking intoxicating. You had him hooked, and he hadn't gotten farther than feeling up your tits.

And then you whimpered and nipped at his bottom lip. It wasn't like you could really defend yourself from his words. Every touch had you keening for more.

He hummed at the mini bite before pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. The arm wrapped around your back continued to support you while the set of fingers that had been playing with your chest fell towards the junction of your thighs. You seemed a little nervous at the start of the descent, but by the time his hand made it there, your legs spread open for him with no hesitation.

Both of your harsh breaths drowned out the sounds from the movie that had been long forgotten by now. And then your soft, sweet moans joined them.

He started out with a few loving caresses over your center. A few pets to get you warmed up. It was all you needed to let out those cute little noises. You rolled your hips at his hand, already signaling your need for more.

Without a second thought, he obliged you. His hand slid beneath your waistband and into your panties before his fingers slotted between your lips, finding your clit with expertise. They danced over your bundle of nerves and pressed down on it. More whines trickled from your mouth. He could only hope his lips on yours did a sufficient job of muffling them.

"That's it, sweetheart," he crooned, "You're so cute. Not worried about anything but feeling good."

You bucked your hips without a care in the world now, just like he said. They rocked up into the friction his digits were providing. Wet sloshing sounds emanated from where his hand moved beneath your shorts.

After a little while longer of just touching, he worked a finger inside of you. Then another. He pumped them in and out, relishing each precious mewl that erupted from you in turn. His digits curled. Each stroke inside you brushed a tender spot that made your thighs quiver and jerk.

"Fuck," you inhaled sharply before reaching forward to try palming at him, a haphazard attempt at returning the favor.

His free hand brushed yours away though. Those cerulean eyes glimmered with cockiness.

"I can take care of myself, baby. I'm being paid to service you, remember?" he purred.

Your eyes rolled back, and your head followed in that direction, hitting the backing of the couch. You weakly nodded before allowing the pleasurable sensations to cloud your head. He just kept thrusting his two fingers in and out while his palm ground against your clit.

You vaguely felt him start to grind his hips against the side of your leg. He used the pressure as stimulation, giving himself some muted relief while tending to you.

In the throes of bliss, you hadn't realized how close you were until the edge was right there. You whined and squirmed, trying to alert him that you were a few skillful pumps away from unraveling.

"Dick... gonna..." you whimpered.

"Yeah, I can tell. You're getting nice and tight," he murmured.

You nodded. Your lip started to jut out, those pouty habits making themselves known in the heat of the moment. He grinned before kissing it away.

"Let go, baby. Soak through your new shorts. Get 'em all messy for me," he cooed.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your toes curled. It was impossible to resist the urge to release when he was guiding you to it like that. Your whole body tensed up and then relaxed over and over, the highs of pleasure washing over you in waves.

He watched every little move you make, drank it all up like a dehydrated man in the middle of the Sahara.

"You look so pretty while you cum," he praised. You heard him say the words; though, they sounded distant amidst the haze of bliss surrounding you.

When you finished, he could tell you were exhausted. Your eyelids drooped as if keeping them open was an impossible task. You laid there limp beside him, just about ready to melt into the couch.

He chuckled and slipped his hand from your shorts. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he sucked them clean and then ducked in for one last kiss. You squeaked in surprise but didn't pull away. He let you taste yourself for a moment before retreating.

Even though he hadn't cum himself, he figured it would be fine for tonight. There were four weeks left of this job after all. He'd have more time with you. Tonight he could deal with finishing himself off in his room after taking you to bed.

He shut the tv off and then scooped you up. Your body draped between his two arms. You didn't complain or protest; rather, just leaned your head into his shoulder and accepted the aid. He walked with you up the stairs, down the walkway to your bedroom. The last door on the path.

Nudging the door open with his foot, he crossed the threshold into your space. It appeared like the rest of the apartment, just more concentrated. A more pure embodiment of you. All the other parts of this place he'd seen had traces of your personality throughout, but each and every part of this room represented a piece of you.

He didn't spend any time snooping around or getting a better look. Like the perfect gentleman, he placed you in bed, draped a blanket over your body, and made sure you were situated. Then he retraced his steps back out into the hall. He headed down to the guest room and slipped inside, planning on taking care of himself and then passing out for the night.

The next morning, Dick woke to a thudding on the wall behind his headboard. Knock. Knock. Knock. The noises pounded against the barrier in an even-rhythm, every second or so. He wasn't sure how long they'd been going on by the time he reached full consciousness. They'd invaded the last part of his dream, so he assumed maybe a few minutes.

Even though the sounds should probably concern him, all he felt was annoyance. The wall behind his bed was the one connected to Jason's. He figured the noises were a result of him working out or moving some things around. Maybe you two had gotten into another argument and he was packing his things in anger.

Dick dragged himself out of bed and stretched. He'd slept longer than usual last night. A lazy smile rose to his face as details came flooding back to him. How you'd felt around his fingers and whined for him to keep pleasuring you.

Once he'd figured out what the noise was about, maybe he'd head over to your room, see if you were up yet. It'd been less than twelve hours, but he was already craving another taste of you.

He stepped out into the hallway, walking in the direction of the room the noise was coming from. As he got closer, he could hear some grunting too. It sounded pretty intense. Either Jason was working out really hard or you'd really pissed him off. Maybe a combination of both.

"Hey, Jason. Some of us are trying to sleep. You don't need to compete with the construction crews around the rest of the city with all this-" he started to call out, but the words died in his throat as soon as he saw the source of the banging.

He felt like a flash grenade had gone off in the room he was looking into. The source of the loud sounds was no longer a mystery. It was coming from Jason's headboard slamming into the wall. The headboard was doing that because the man in question was kneeling on the bed with you pinned down in front of him, fucking you like he was an animal in heat. Dick saw your body jerk in panic as soon as you heard the sound of his voice close in.

"Jesus, man!" Dick said and spun away from the explicit sight before him. His mind reeled and tried to grasp onto what he just witnessed.

As he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he just saw Jason balls deep inside you, he also realized that the lewd noises weren't stopping. He slowly turned back to get another glance - just a curious one, he told himself.

His eyes found the two of you again. Jason kneeled on the edge of the bed. One of his large hands gripped your hip while the other held your face down against the pillows. Now that Dick was really listening, he could hear your little muffled whines and squeaks.

Jason's body glowed, flush from arousal and shimmering with a sheen of sweat. Your limbs were folded up like pieces of a portable chair. Dick tried not to focus on the flicker of heat in his gut, and instead, think about how even with another set of eyes, neither of you had stopped going at it. In your defense, he didn't think the decision was up to you. Jason had manhandled you into a position that gave him all the leverage.

Finally after another second or two, the other man looked his way.

"You need something, Dick?" Jason grunted as though he'd been interrupted while reading a book rather than pounding you into the mattress.

He blinked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Do you really have to ask that? You're not a prude, and you're far from innocent," he mocked. His voice was breathless as though he found some deep satisfaction in this act. Dick believed that. He'd felt how soft and tight your cunt was last night, warm enough to melt even someone as tough as Jason down a bit.

"I'm not a prude, but you could at least shut the door," he responded. The absurdity of this situation then began to dawn on him. He stepped closer to the bed. "Really, Jason. What the fuck are you doing? She's a client," he finally said.

That brought a laugh out of the younger man. "Client, huh? That's not what I was hearing last night when you had her out on the couch."

Dick tensed in the face of the accusation. Shit. He'd thought the two of you had been quiet enough. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

"That's different..." he defended weakly.

In reality, he of course knew that it wasn't. Him fooling around with you last night was, on a technical level, no different from what Jason was doing now. Either one if found out by your father, their employer, would get them fired and possibly slapped with a lawsuit.

But he did feel it was honestly different on some level. He'd just been playing with you. Going along with your flirting. Having some fun. Jason was fucking you. Every thrust was like an act of revenge for all the pouting and whining and huffy glares. He bullied his cock deep into your cunt with every swing of his hips. Your body jolted from his momentum, your fingers curled around the edges of the pillow. It was intense and raw.

"It is not," Jason denied, "Plus, I thought you'd be happy. We're not arguing anymore. You wanted me to act cool with her? Well she thinks this is pretty fuckin' cool. Don't you, princess?"

Before you could mumble something against the satiny linens below you, he looped an arm around your neck and pulled you up against him. You squealed at the sharp angle this new position put you at. Your eyes rolled back, and the only sounds that came from your lips immediately were hazy babbles.

You eventually collected yourself enough to nod. He laughed in your ear, slotting his face right next to yours. You could feel his breaths against your cheek, his sweat smearing on your skin.

"Use your words, sweetheart," he purred.

A shudder coursed its way through you. Your dazed eyes opened just enough to connect with Dick's bright blue ones. You didn't know what to say, so you let out the easiest thing you could think of.

"F-feels good..."

Dick nearly winced at the fucked-out sound of your voice. It was sultry and slurred. If you weren't so disgustingly rich, he was sure you'd make a killing doing this stuff on camera.

His eyes scraped over the shape Jason had you propped in now. Your body was arched like a bow, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. He had your arms hooked over one of his behind your back while his other was wrapped around your throat. Your chin rested on the thick muscles there. Saliva spilled from your mouth while the beginnings of tears pricked at your eyes.

Everything about it was turning him on, but he tried to disguise that fact. He shifted where he stood in an attempt to readjust himself and not let his cock fill out. But then his eyes caught on the slight bulge in your stomach. The faint outline that protruded in rhythm with the man behind you thrusting.

He almost came on the spot. A groan worked its way up his throat, and he ran a hand over his face into his messy hair.

Jason huffed out a laugh at the noise. "You should've seen her. She came in here trying to pick a fight. Probably a warm up before she scampered off to your room to get you to relieve her frustration."

"Nuh uh," you whimpered pitifully.

In response, he released your arms and shoved you down onto the mattress again. You whined at the force he put into slamming your face against the blankets. His hips rutted into you even harder too, clearing any further words of denial from your mind.

"I wasn't asking," he chided. He gave your ass a firm slap before holding onto your hips. 

You mewled and clawed at the soft bedding.

"Maybe you are being honest though. Maybe you didn't plan on getting Dick to help you out. You probably knew he couldn't give it to you like you needed," he said. His green eyes flitted up to the man standing beside the bed, letting him know it was an open challenge.

Dick knew he shouldn't take the bait. This was weird enough as it was, standing there and watching the two of you fuck. But wouldn't it be weirder not getting involved? If he just left, he'd still be half-hard. He'd probably skulk off back to his room to jerk off, and that would be more pathetic than whatever he was about to agree to.

"Sure, Jason. If that's what you have to tell yourself," he mocked, "She knows how good I can make her feel. She just knows that you're easier."

Jason’s usual scowl appears on his face. "You cracked first. Gave into her and acted all sweet," he grumbled.

"Yeah, but look at you. She didn't have to work at all to get you to fuck her," he taunted, "I'm sure she'll be so tempted to not act out anymore when this is how you deal with it."

He closed the gap between himself and the bed, reaching for your face. He cupped your jaw and tilted your head upwards to face him. Swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, he smirked at the cute, pouty look on your face.

Jason growled and tugged you back. His hips clapped against your ass. You whined in a mixture of pleasure and pain, screwing your eyes shut. He leaned over your body like a dog guarding its favorite toy while continuing to pound into you.

"You know I'm right," Dick said, "You're so rough because you know you have to compensate."

Now Jason was actually getting a little pissy. He was the one who made this competitive, but it didn't take much to trigger his temper.

He let go of your body and pulled out. "You think you can do better? Go ahead then," he said, gesturing to your twitching form. You whined at the emptiness you now felt, but it did nothing to change his mind. He gave you a quick swat between your legs, ripping a cry from you. 

"No whining, little brat," he said, "Not when you're getting so much attention. More than you deserve."

Dick watched with interest before connecting his stare with the other man's.

"You just want me to what? Strip down and fuck her?" he asked.

"Why not? Don't act like you don't want to. I can see the tent in your pants," he responded.

Looking down, he knew he was right. The front of his sweats had puffed out with his desire. He didn't bother feeling embarrassed about it right now though. Jason was shameless as could be, so why should he try to keep up an appearance of modesty?

He shrugged and began peeling off his t-shirt before pushing his pants and boxers to the floor. Both pieces crumple up next to his feet as his cock comes into view. He gives it a few lazy strokes while reaching for you.

You glanced up at him, your pupils dilating upon seeing his length. It was slightly skinnier than Jason's but just as long. Your mouth watered for a taste. He chuckled, your admiration stroking his ego.

"Come here, baby," he cooed, much more gentle than Jason.

The sound of his voice revived you from your fucked out state, and you were happy to be guided into his arms. He sat against the headboard and took you onto his lap. Pressing a few kisses to your lips, he ran his fingers down your jawline.

He knew he wouldn't have to do anything to get you ready. You were already dripping onto his thighs from the mess Jason left between your legs. He shifted you around by your waist, laying you back against his chest. The both of you faced Jason who sat at the end of the bed.

"You think you can ride for me?" he murmured against the shell of your ear.

Your legs were wobbly and your mind still felt a little cloudy from the euphoria Jason pumped into your veins, but you nodded anyways, not wanting to disappoint Dick.

He rewarded you with a grin and pecked your temple. "Such a good girl. Gonna show him how sweet you can be when you're treated right, huh?"

Again, you nodded, but he also caught Jason rolling his eyes.

You rose onto your feet and positioned yourself above his lap. He helped you out a little, lining his shaft up at your entrance and sliding it through your slick.

Slowly, you began sinking down on him. He couldn't help the choked moan that slipped out of his mouth. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasped.

You didn't let up, lowering yourself all the way down in one go. Your ass rested against his pelvis, and he gave you a few moments to adjust. Hell, he needed them too to catch his breath. He couldn't cum too quickly right now. Not with Jason watching. He'd never hear the end of it.

But eventually you do start to bounce. His hands hold onto the little divots in your side to help you keep balance. Your warm slippery walls squeeze around him with each of your movements.

More whiny sounds seep from your lips. They were higher-pitched than last night. Less drawn out and delirious. Each time you took him all the way, your hips jerked. He reached around, swirling his fingers over your clit.

"So sensitive," he teased.

You whimpered and continued to bounce yourself in haphazard bursts. Your pussy gushed for him, your juices dripping down to his balls. By the time you finished, there would be a wet patch for sure.

He tilted his head back against the headboard, just letting himself feel for a moment. Meanwhile, your eyes meet Jason's. He had a fist wrapped around his cock. He kept his strokes slow, as if trying to hide the fact that he was doing it at all.

"Feeling good?" he asked, but you know it was intended to mock you, "You like sweet and gentle? Better than how I do it?"

Before you could answer, Dick slammed you down on his cock. Your eyes fluttered, and you loosened up, allowing him to take over in lifting you up and down on his shaft.

"If you're asking, that means you know you're losing," Dick chimed in a sing-song voice.

That just spiked Jason’s blood pressure. He stood up. "My turn again," he demanded.

Dick openly laughed in his face while continuing to pump you like a fleshlight. "No," he said.

"Yeah. You've had your turn, now it's mine. Give her back," he said. He was getting more agitated because he realized how petulant he sounded.

It only brought more laughter from Dick. "Give her back? What is she? Your favorite doll or something?" he taunted, "It doesn't really seem like she wants to go back to you. I think I'll keep her here till she finishes."

"You're the one who interrupted."

"You're the one who practically invited me to."

"I don't care. You had enough time, now it's my turn to show you. I'll get her at fucking gunpoint if I have to."

Both of them knew he was just blowing off steam. When Jason got mad, he would say things like that without thinking twice. But you'd never heard his voice so gruff, dripping with the potential for violence. When he got pissed at you, he was annoyed and agitated. Frustrated more than anything else. This was something else, and it turned you on.

You clenched around Dick's cock and let out a shaky whine. They simultaneously dropped their bickering and looked at you. Dick slowed the pace as he eyed you, but Jason's lips curved upward. 

"Oh you like that idea?" he chuckled, "Thought you were afraid of guns, princess?"

"I- I am," you said, trying to backtrack.

His dark locks swayed from side to side as he shook his head. The moment he headed towards the nightstand Dick knew what he was doing.

"Jason-" he started, but his gun was already in his hand. The dark pistol pointed towards you.

"Come here," he said.

Your eyes widened, thighs quivering as Dick stopped moving you and let you slide off of him. He watched as his cock slid out of you, still coated in your arousal. You crawled forward towards the man pointing the gun at you.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair when you were close enough and dragged you the rest of the way. His cock kicked at the yelp you let out.

"That's a good girl. You know to come when you're called," he praised.

You whimpered in response, looking up at him with wide, puppy-eyes. He didn't soften in the slightest though. Scooping you from behind, he dumped you onto your back.

"Spread your legs for me nice and wide," he directed. You clasped your own legs behind the knee and made sure there was ample room for him to get at your center.

The gun remained aimed at you. It kept your heart pumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. A sick combination of fear and lust ran through your limbs. Jason didn't mind the shakiness though. With his free hand, he guided his thick cock back to your entrance and slid right in.

"Fuck, you take it so well for such a prissy little thing," he growled.

He didn't give you the adjustment period like Dick had. Instead, he pushed all the way in and then dragged his hips back before slamming in again. You mewled at the stretch. The sweet burn of him splitting your cunt open.

"Jason..." Dick said again in the tone of a parent about to count to three.

Jason didn't drop it though. He leaned forward, pressing the cool metal barrel against your shoulder and folding you in half under his bulky frame. He was so deep inside you that you couldn't really say he was thrusting anymore. Just grinding his hips. Deep, even rolls. Those tears that had been teasing you before leaked out freely now. You hiccuped out a broken sob as he continued fucking you within an inch of your life.

"She's fine," he grunted, trying to suppress a moan of his own, "Fuck... you know I'm careful."

It was true. Dick didn't actually believe Jason would shoot you, but still, this felt like the exact opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. This was probably the most danger you'd been in over the course of your entire life. It was definitely the first time you'd had a gun aimed at you.

Heat sweltered between you and Jason, making it almost impossible to breathe. Your head lolled back in search of some relief. Some semblance of breathing room. But he was just all around you. Every part of your body felt under his control.

Your vision went spotty for a moment, but when you came back, you saw Dick's face above yours. Jason had leaned back a bit, allowing you to cool down. His hips maintained a steady rhythm though. 

The older man stared down at you, stroking your cheek gently. He swiped your tears away with your thumb. His palms kept your head cradled as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. It just made you cry more.

"You're so pretty crying like that," he crooned. His knuckles swept over your heated skin. "Such a sweet girl. Not used to getting it so rough."

"She'll be used to it by the time the month is over," Jason said. He put the gun aside now, using both hands to hold onto you.

Dick rolled his eyes and continued showering you with soft words and tender touches. It was like each half of your body was in a separate world.

You could tell Jason was close by the way his thrusts were becoming more sporadic. His breaths puffed out in harsh pants while his fingers gripped you tight enough to bruise. Luckily, you were getting there too.

The only one left behind was Dick, but he wasn't worried. He had the patience for you.

Jason thumbed your clit, dragging you the rest of the way to the finish line. You came with a scream so loud that both of them were thankful the penthouse suite meant no neighbors to hear you. Your body quivered and convulsed. You sobbed out cries for both of them. Your hands flew to Dick's wrist to hold onto something.

Jason kept pumping into you for a few moments more, but you were tight as a vise. He knew he was about to cum, and he knew he should pull out. But as he was going to, you locked your shaky legs around him and shook your head.

"I'm-" you tried before cutting yourself off with a whimper, "I'm on the pill."

In that moment, it was like he heard an angel speak to him. He slammed into you as hard as he could and collapsed onto your body. His larger chest crushed you against the bed, his face nuzzling into your neck as he spilled himself inside you. You swore you heard him whine, but it was hard to tell with everything going on.

He fucked his cum into you, not pulling out until he was completely satisfied. Once he was and that dreamy bliss of post-release had settled over him, he reluctantly rolled off and landed next to you flat on his back. His chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths.

But you weren't done yet. Dick slid around to where he had been and pushed his cock into your hole that was still leaking Jason's cum.

"The best goes on last," he teased with a lazy smirk.

He sighed, his long lashes dusting his cheeks at the sensation. His grip was much softer. He took his thrusts slower too, knowing your poor pussy was aching from how rough Jason got.

You whimpered and twitched at the slight overstimulation.

"Shhh, doing good for me," he cooed, "Pussy's so warm and soft. She wants me. I’ll make her feel all better."

The sounds coming from where your bodies connected were absolutely obscene. And even though Dick wasn't going as fast, he was getting just as deep. His tip brushed your sweet spot over and over. Your toes curled and your back arched. This time it was Jason you held onto. You gripped his hand tight as you could, and he let you. He didn't baby you like Dick did, but he allowed you the comfort of his large, warm palm around yours.

You were totally gone by the time Dick was ready to let go. He angled his hips to guide you into another release. Your walls fluttered around his length. His head tilted back and he let out a groan, feeling his own peak bubble up inside him.

He came inside too, pumping your cunt full of another load. Like Jason, he fucked it all in. He stayed snug in the tight grip of your pussy for a moment before pulling out. Sticky, white cum gushed out, dripping down onto the bed.

Dick landed on the opposite side of you from Jason. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

The three of you laid in silence for a little while. For you, it was out of pure exhaustion. You wondered if it was that for them too, or if they were processing what they'd done. The lines they'd crossed and the secret they'd now have to keep.

But you didn't get the chance to dwell on it for too long because soon enough, Dick guided you off the bed.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said.

With a hand on the small of your back, he led you to your bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom. You assumed Jason stayed behind to take care of the bedding, but you didn't ask.

Dick drew you a bath and helped you in. He did like he said he would, cleaned you up. Every move he made he did so with all the care in the world. Gentle hands wiping the dried drool and tear streaks from your face.

When you were done, he helped you out and dried you off. He let you go about the other parts of putting yourself back together on your own, taking a few moments to tend to himself. 

You didn't know how the rest of the day would look. If things would be awkward now or if they just wouldn't acknowledge what happened. You waited on your bed for Dick, dressed in a pair of fresh clothes and your skin smooth after being lathered in lotion.

He came in after you a few minutes later. Immediately, your fears of things being weird were extinguished by the smile he gave you. The same charming one he'd had since a few days ago. He climbed on the bed with you and laid back against your pillows. You followed in suit, leaning your head against his shoulder.

You were content like this, just relaxing with him. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the quietest you'd been since he arrived.

Moments later the door opened and Jason came in. He crossed the room without a word. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he basically answered the question when he reached the other side of your bed.

He laid down next to you like Dick had on your other side. You eyed him suspiciously. Never would you have imagined he'd willingly spend time with you. He caught the look though and gave it his usual frown.

"What?" he scoffed, "I was the one actually hired to watch you. I gotta make sure you're not getting into trouble."

Unlike before, his speaking didn't provoke you to whine or insult. Instead, you smiled and wrapped your arm around his bicep.

"It's ok. I won't make you admit that you wanna cuddle too," you grinned.

He shook his head in denial. "I'm just doing my job," he asserted, "Plus, I think I won the contest, so it only makes sense that I'm the one who stays with you."

"Hey, we never decided on a winner," Dick cut in.

"I mean, we didn't have to because it was pretty obvious."

"Well we got a whole month, so if you're so confident, we can always have a rematch later," Dick challenged.

"Um, you guys didn't even ask for my vote on who I think won," you interrupted with a pout.

They both turn their eyes to you. For once, Jason didn’t look at you with total disdain. In this moment, you could see some fondness under the top coat of annoyance.

"There's that attitude. I guess it was naive of me to hope we fucked it out of you," he said.

Dick chuckled at that. "It'll take a couple more rounds before that's even a real possibility."

You glared at the both of them, but like Jason, your eyes didn't hold real anger or frustration now. Only the hope that they'd try to put you back in line again.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Declined

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 9.2k words (whoopsies)

warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, stalker!Simon but he does it with the intention of loving you so therefore I also tag this as fluff, the usual swearing, smut, f!oral receiving, p in v sex, unprotected sex, finishing inside

Continuation of this idea

He almost hadn’t seen you, that very first time

He was begrudgingly on his sixth day of mandatory leave, something he had been pushing Price on for too long now, the Captain finally putting his foot down and saying the Lieutenant could no longer avoid it. Following a couple of particularly brutal operations recently, the higher ups were becoming increasingly concerned as to his mental stability, stating Ghost’s actions and his own written reports reflected an impulsivity and darkness they were steadily losing confidence in.

Ghost found the claims ridiculous. They had shaped him into exactly what they needed him to be on the battlefield, hadn’t they? They’d taken the scrawny runt of the litter and shaped him into a lean, mean, killing machine who never blinked twice as the blood of those lives he’d taken became as permanent of a stain on his skin as the ink from a tattoo gun. What did they fuckin’ care how his bloody mental health was?

Price insisted that the younger man not sulk inside of his flat for the entire duration of what he tried to convince him could be treated as a well deserved rest, encouraging him to get out at least once a day, if only to stretch his legs and prevent him from going truly stir crazy.

“Ye do understand they won’t let you back until they think you’re at least tryin’ to put the work in?” The Captain had told him the last time he saw him, doing his best to remind his second in command of the situation they’d been put into. “Take up fuckin’ yoga if ye think it’ll help ye. Just find something to distract yer mind and have them clear ye to come back sooner than later.”

A distraction huh?

Now, he’s sat at a table in the corner of an already too small and too cramped cafe, nursing a less than mediocre cup of tea on his daily outing, only just looking to help pass the time faster until he could be back on base where he belonged. For no particular reason other than perhaps divine intervention, he had only happened to glance up that time the bell above the door rang rather than the other hundred times it had gone off this morning, and that was when Ghost saw you

You, who appeared as though you’d only stumbled into the shop because a strong gust of wind had pushed you in his direction, your skittish, frazzled appearance making you stand out amongst the crowd of bored looking caffeine addicts stood waiting in queue, hardly sparing you a glance as they awaited their next 5£ fix

You were pushing your hair out of your face as you caught your breath, accompanied by the sound of the bell ringing as the door finally shut behind you, a noise nearly akin to angels strumming their harps up above when Ghost caught his first proper glimpse of your visage

There was something about you that piqued his interest then and there, his eyes never leaving you as you continuously struggled with the stack of books, journals and loose papers nearly slipping from your grasp, your other arm occupied with the so full it could burst tote bag that kept sliding off your shoulder

He had to stop himself from actually scoffing at your appearance, you came across as so opposite to how he carries himself, silent and stealthy, cool and collected, priding himself on being able to slip in and out of rooms unnoticed, even with his huge frame. And here you were, stumbling in like a bull in a china shop and appearing before him like the epitome of a hot mess on legs

He watched you the entire time you stood in queue, he watched you place your order and pay, noting the way his cold, dead to the world heart tried to skip a beat when you smiled at the barista, he watched you glance about the cafe as you waited for your beverage, your gaze somehow never landing on the one that had been focused on you since you walked in

Now, there are countless explanations as to why Ghost did what he did next, many of them could be explained away as being innocent enough, no real ill-intent or harm done, the Lieutenant was simply bored and looking for something to occupy his time with, to entertain his mind, like the higher ups had ordered

Unfortunately for you, he believed he had just found his distraction

It was really almost too easy, any simple civilian could have done it, his SAS skills not even needing to come into play you were making this so simple for him, you might as well have been asking for it

First, he saw your eyes light up when the barista called your name out along with your drink order, giving Ghost the first half of the information he needed. Next, he was watching you walk by his table to collect your beverage, paying him no mind at all as he glanced towards the stack in your arms, your last name practically popping out at him from the top corners of nearly all your loose papers, granting the large men exactly what he’d been hoping to see

You were none the wiser as you happily skipped out of the cafe, bidding the girl behind the counter a happy Sunday along the way, unaware as to the pair of eyes following your every movement, and the traumatized mind behind them who had already begun his plotting

One week

Seven days go by since that first Sunday he saw you in the cafe

And in that time, Simon’s kept himself busy, learning as much as he can about his newest distraction, his new little hobby, his pet project

Equipped with your first and last name tucked into the folds of his brain, it had been all too simple, nearly comical how easy it was for Ghost to look you up online and learn all he wanted to know about you

Thanks to the world wide web, in a weeks time Ghost had been able to discover all those essential details he supposes other men would have had to learn through taking you on date after date, finding out which school you’re attending for your masters degree, gaining access to your class schedule, giving him a glimpse into your routine Mondays through Fridays, discovering which local book store you’re working at part time on the weekends

You’re evidently a clever bird, having your few social media accounts set to private mode, but you’re sweet to think something like that could keep someone like him from getting what he wants

Soon enough, he’s got access to every photo and video you’ve ever uploaded to the web through the years, happy to note that you’ve never posted anything that would hint towards there being a man in your life right now

And really, it isn’t entirely your fault that you’re so open and honest in some of your posts, believing that no one apart from your family and close friends will be reading it, as you had excitedly posted photos of your new apartment last year, writing in the caption how you were eager to start this new chapter of your life, living on your own, all by yourself, not even a dog to keep you company when the floor boards creak at night and branches tap against the windows, just and old blind cat you’d rescued

While your friends had commented on how cute and cozy your decor had been, his own eyes skipped over the overpriced pillows and throws and instead locked on to the windows and doors, noting the standard, or altogether missing, security systems in place

Ghost is thinking about what the easiest way to gain access to your flat’s floor plan would be, he could pretend he’s an interested tenant and reach out to the landlord, hmm but then he’d have to actually talk to someone, something he’s been able to avoid doing so far, avoid leaving any trace- when the sound of the bell ringing above the door lets him know you’ve walked in

Much like last time, his eyes following your figure is the only perceptible movement he allowed himself, guarded by the shadows of his hood over his head, no one would ever be able to notice the steadfast attention he pays to your every single movement

You spend a total of 9 minutes 38 seconds in the cafe this time around, from the time you enter until you’re walking back out with your warm drink in hand, each second being ingrained into Ghost’s mind

A small part of him had almost tried to fool himself in the beginning, attempting to convince himself that this would be enough, learning about a curious little bird from behind a screen and silently watching her bounce around a coffee shop once a week should have been enough to keep his warring mind occupied, to keep the Lieutenant distracted until the higher ups decided enough time had passed to offer him a chance back

That was until, he’d heard you laugh

You were nearly out of the cafe, so close to being an itch he could almost consider satisfyingly scratched and over with, when a woman and her overzealous toddler came bounding round the corner, practically knocking into you with your full arms

But rather than becoming upset at your nearly spilled drink or almost ruined academic papers, you reassured the woman, got down to the tots level to make sure they were alright, and then you laughed with them

Your fucking giggle was to him what children heard when the ice cream truck came driving by, your smile stretching further than it previously had before his eyes, your voice sounding as melodic as the bell above the door did, and that was when Ghost knew, he was fucked

All of the world’s information online couldn’t put into words what he was seeing in front of him with his own two tired eyes; you were sweet

Too sweet, tooth-achingly sweet, sweet enough to trust this cold, dark world and offer it a bright smile in return

He’s seen people killed for far, far less

But not you

He wouldn’t allow such a cruel fate to befall such a darling bird, he wanted to keep you sweet, keep you smiling and giggling without worries of predators watching from the shadows, mouths salivating and jaws itching to clamp down on something soft

Not when you’d flown to close to him twice now, near enough that he can practically feel the wind beneath your wings as you float out of the cafe again, unaware that you’ve stepped into the large, gilded cage that is Ghost’s attention

Another week passes

Ghost takes his curiosity away onto the streets for the first time and counts to sixty before he follows you out of the coffee shop that Sunday, careful to stick close to the buildings and shadows, mingling in with the crowds and keeping a reasonable distance from you as he follows in your steps

He lurks near the crowded bust stop across the street from the moment you walk into your shift at the bookshop, and remains there until the second you step back out hours later, locking up the store behind you and beginning your stroll home

He waits outside your flat, noting which window on the second floor lights up with the soft glow of a lamp not long after you venture into the building, letting him know exactly which one is yours, and which one he’ll be keeping a close eye on from now on

Another week passes

Ghost has most of your routine memorized by now

He knows what time you leave in the morning depending on your classes that day, knows you often don’t make it home until after dark on those days

He knows your shifts at the bookstore every weekend never change, with your Sunday morning visits to the cafe before work being one of the few luxuries you apparently allow yourself

Ghost hangs around your flat often enough that he allows some of the neighbours to begin recognizing him in passing, letting them assume he must live in the building as well

All the better for him really, when the nice older couple doesn’t blink twice as he carefully grumbles about being locked out one night and they grant him their key code to unlock the front doors

Another week passes

Ghost knows you’ve been complaining to your landlord about how the building’s laundry machines are giving you a hard time, though you don’t tell the balding man about how it seems your undergarments are the only thing disappearing from your loads-

He knows where you do your shopping, and how you avoid a certain cashier who never gets the hint when you don’t return his attempts at flirting

He knows your Sunday morning coffee order by heart, knows exactly around what time you’ll be popping into the cafe, always around 8:25am before your 9am shift stocking books six blocks away

Another week passes

Ghost knows you haven’t noticed yet that the nuisance of a cashier at your local grocer hasn’t shown up to work in days now, the Lieutenant having ensured that he wouldn’t be bothering you anymore

He knows you’re running low on panties, considering he has nearly an entire weeks worth of your unwashed garments tucked safely in his nightstand

He knows you’ve started to notice the door leading out to your second storey balcony isn’t always locked when you return home, even though you could have sworn it was secured before you left that morning

He knows you’ve begun to question whether you left that lamp on when you rushed out for school, or if you’d closed your bedroom curtains before bed at night, or where those leftovers in the fridge went-

Ghost knows it’s nearly time to act - his clever bird is slowly catching on as he grows less and less careful, more daring - but it’s on one of those nights that he feels bold enough to slide your balcony door ajar enough for him to slide inside and watch your chest rise and fill with each breath as you sleep peacefully unaware, that his phone rings and nearly ruins everything

It was only in recent weeks that Ghost felt confident enough, or perhaps stupid enough his Captain say, to observe you more closely, taking a more ‘hands-on’ approach. At night, he more often than not occupied the nooks and crannies of your domicile as you tossed and turned in your sleep, mere steps away from the man who simply wished to watch you dream for now

He can’t explain his fascination with you even to himself - it’s as if he awoke one morning to discover he- someone had drilled a hole into his skull and poured your liquid form directly into his cranium

He sometimes wishes you were as easy to catch as a common insect, wishes that he could examine you under a microscope, to pin your extremities down and take a scalpel to your soft flesh to finally peer inside and see what makes you tick- but he knows he must tread lightly, keep you from bleeding out on the table too soon

Always careful and sure of his movements as he inched your bedroom door open that night, he had been preoccupied on watching you for any sudden indication of disturbing and waking you, he’d been entirely caught off guard by the sudden buzzing going off in his pocket

He hadn’t been expecting anything from his cell that night, considering that this was the first sign of life his the device had shown in the month he’d been forced on leave, but he thanked whatever God might still be listening to him that the ringer was off like it always was, saving him from the disaster that would have been his ringtone suddenly waking you just before two o’ clock in the morning to a masked stranger lurking in your doorway

Though the phone call hadn’t woken you, it had startled Ghost enough to throw him off, had him stepping back in surprise and making the near fatal mistake of stepping on one of your cats squeaky toys

The cheap pet store toy goes off in the otherwise deadly silent room, only the light of the moon creeping through your curtains casts a faint glow across your sleeping figure, which to Ghost’s horror, begins to stir softly

Ghost has backed out of your bedroom, slipped out the balcony door, silently shut it behind him and jumped back down onto the street with the agility of a trained professional in their element, all before the call has even been sent to voicemail

He’s ripping the device from his pocket and slamming thick fingers onto buttons as the sudden surge of adrenaline catches up to him- as he realizes just how fucking close that was - daring to glance up and spot a single light turning on in the window he knows is your bedroom

“What?” He asks harshly into the receiver, uncaring to check what the caller ID says- only one person has his cell number anyhow

“I’ll be honest,” The Captain’s accent comes through clear as day, sounding all too chipper for the current time on the clock. “I was expectin’ at least a slightly warmer greetin’ from you.”

“After a month of hearing jack shit from you?” Ghost knows he’s being slightly crueller than he needs to be. He is happy to hear Price’s voice, but the inconvenient timing of this call has him on edge, has him wishing this conversation would end already. His body may be out of your flat, but his mind is still up there with you, wondering if you’ve gone back to sleep yet, if you were convinced it was just the cat moving around at night. “Wha’ is it, Cap?”

There’s silence on the line for a moment, shuffling and the tell-tale sound of the older man letting out a deep sigh as he settles in says, “You’ve been… quiet Ghost. Was expectin’ to have heard from you by now.”

“Ain’t I supposed to be bloody takin’ it easy? As you’d put it? Why would I call when you’re the one that fuckin’ sent me away.” He surprises even himself with his harshness towards a man he holds so much respect for, one of the few people he holds to such a high standard. But the inconvenience of the timing of this call has Ghost on edge, has him uneasy, spitting out any words that will end this call and allow him to let out the breath he feels he’s still holding in.

“Fair ‘nough.” The Captain answers, having already suspected that this would likely not turn into the most joyous of phone calls. “Though for the record, you know it was never my call, Ghost. I pushed against it, vouched for you, they just-” the older man lets another deep sigh before he decides to end that train of thought and get to the point of why he called in the first place. “They’re saying they’re willing to have you come in now, with the time that’s passed. Retake your psych eval. You tell them whatever they want to hear to pass you, and you’re back in, you hear me?”

He can almost picture it, the longer Price goes on

He could pick up the duffel bag he’s had packed and sitting ready by the door since the moment he’d been put on this mandatory leave, drive to base, bullshit his way through whatever fuckin’ questions are meant to determine whether he’s fit for duty or not (even if he risks returning with a mind even darker than when they sent him away-), and be back on the battlefield by the end of the week, gunshots ringing in his ears once more and blood under his fingernails

The thing is however, there’s an itch under his skin he hasn’t been able to scratch yet, a melody stuck on repeat in his mind he hasn’t been able to perfect the tune to quiet yet, a sliver he put into his flesh himself and hasn’t found a way to pry out without making a mess

“Wish it were that simple.” The masked man grumbles under his breath, leaning his head back against the scratchy brick of the building, staring up at the starless sky, the only light he can see is one leading him back towards you

“What was that?” Price attempts to clarify, believing he’s misheard his Lieutenant. From his perspective, this is the news his second in command has been waiting to hear this entire time and he suffered through days of boredom and inactivity. He figured this would be a quick call that ended with his missing task force member returning as soon as possible

“‘Fraid I ain’t quite ready yet, sir. Got something I need to take care of first.”

“You- how do you mean, Ghost?” He asks again, in slight disbelief that the man on the other end of the line isn’t itching to return as he believed he would be.

“Took your advice, Cap. Found a distraction. Can’t go being upset now, to find out I’m distracted.”

It takes him longer than it should, to come up with what he considers as Plan A

Every scenario he dreamt up in his head, every possible meet-cute that could occur, none of it seemed good enough for inserting himself into your life and ensuring his spot became a permanent one

What if he caught you at a bad time and you hardly spared a glance at him?

What if he intimidated you, the way he tended to throw most people off?

What if you found him strange, creepy, scary?

What if you didn’t like him and he ruined any chance he ever had at doing this right?

He couldn’t risk such a thing, not when he intended on keeping you around for a long, long time

He had to ensure that your first meeting went well, was one where you would be just as infatuated with him as he’d been with you

In order for this to work, he had to have you approach him

Either way, he was going to have you, he would just rather if you went willingly and happily

The idea had struck him on a Saturday, as he watched you and your coworker locking up the bookstore one evening, overhearing a snippet of your conversation had a lightbulb appearing above his head

You stood by the shopfront as your coworker tugged on the door handle, making sure it was locked tight for the night, before she mentioned to you; “God, I wish payday wasn’t a week away.”

“Tell me ‘bout it.” You’d agreed, readjusting the strap of your constantly slipping tote bag on your shoulder. “I hope I’ve got enough money in my bank account to cover my coffee tomorrow morning.”

Bingo

He’d shown up to the cafe extra early the next morning, though he always arrived at least a half hour before you did, wanting to fade into the background of the bustling morning crowd before you popped in

He’d considered finding a way to hack your bank cards and have them malfunction, but then thought better of it, curious if he could go about this another way that was less likely to leave a digital footprint

He knew the barista working the counter this morning was a newer hire, hadn’t even been here for a full month yet

He tried to look as non-intimidating as he could as he walked up to her, though that was no easy feat considering his stature alone

He ordered his drink, his fee for being able to occupy the corner table as long as he liked, before he told her he had a strange request to make

He was confident that she wouldn’t tell him no, that she was still new enough to the job that she wouldn’t want to deny a paying customer

He explained that there’d be a woman coming in later, and that he wanted to pay for her order

Ghost could see how the naive girl was almost fooled into believing he was sweet for a moment, perhaps caring even, asking him if he was wanting to start one of those pay it forward trains where everyone pays for the person behind them- before he cut her off

“No.” He’d clarified firmly, seeing her eyes widen only slightly before hastily putting her customer service face back in place. “Only her.”

He said he wanted to her pretend as though your cards weren’t working when you would go to pay- to tell you they had declined or something, before he’d step in and pay for you

“She’s an old friend o’ mine. Haven’t seen her in a while. Was hoping you could help me with this sort o’ … ‘prank’ if you will.”

Any hesitation the woman might have still been harbouring quickly disappeared when a 20£ note was flashed to her

Nearly a half hour later, he watches his plan unfold without a hitch

You think nothing of it the first time the barista tells you your payment didn’t go through, becoming confused when it declines a second time, and increasingly flustered each time after that when every method of payment you have can’t cover your 5£ morning drink

Ghost watches this unfold with a satisfied smirk hidden under his plain medical mask - he thought the balaclava might be a bit too much for your first meeting - enjoying seeing you flounder momentarily, unaware of how everything you know is about to change as he steps closer, extending his gloved hand next to you, close enough to feel your heat radiating through your jacket, before he’s tapping his card against the machine and speaking to you for the first time

“I’ve got tha’ for ya.”

And suddenly, as simple as flicking a switch on, as easy as waking up from a peaceful sleep, Ghost now gets to watch all his hard work pay off right before him, as your eyes meet finally meet his for the first time

He has to actively fight to hear your incessant apologies and thank you’s aimed his way over the thundering of his heart beating in his damaged eardrums, has to refrain himself from grinning as wide as a Cheshire Cat beneath his mask and give himself away too soon

Though his poker experience is usually limited to late nights under foreign stars with the 141, Ghost knows how to play his cards right, especially with you

He turns you down at your first offer to pay him back, letting you stew in the awkward discomfort of a stranger saving your ass in front of other strangers for a moment longer, before you’re saying the exact words he wanted to hear coming from your lips, as though he’d handed you the script himself

“Do you come here often? I just mean that- I come here a lot- sometimes. And if you’re here next time I’m here, then maybe I can pay you back, buy you a drink.”

With a hurried promise to meet him here at this time next week, and a sheepish smile sent his way as you duck out of the busy cafe to head to work, Ghost slips the barista another 20£ in thanks before he’s out of the shop as well, following you from a distance, each step he takes feeling lighter than the next

You can’t keep pretending anymore

Even your friends are starting to take notice

Well, if you can count the people who are forced to spend time with you, your classmates and coworkers, as friends

“You all good over there?” Your colleague asks you as you’re restocking books on the shelves one afternoon, having noticed the way you jumped in surprise when a customer rounded the corner unexpectedly

“Yeah I-” You take a steadying breath, one hand still clutching your frantic heart as it races in your chest. “I’ve just been paranoid recently. Think school’s getting to me.”

You can tell she doesn’t quite believe you, based off the way she’s still looking at you, before she decides to drop the subject for now, going to greet the couple that just walked in

You’re not sure you’d believe yourself either, if you were the one on the outside looking in

While it was true that you were in a particularly busy portion of the semester at the moment, your assignments and grades were unfortunately the furthest thing from your mind

You’d been able to play it off at first, blaming your constantly preoccupied mind and overloaded schedule, how else could you keep forgetting such silly things like turning the lamp off though you could’ve sworn you had- and believing you’d left yourself two slices of pizza when the plate in the fridge obviously only had one on it but wait you only ordered a small and ate half last night how could- and the plants that you knew you kept neglecting suddenly began blooming back to life when you knew you hadn’t watered them in ages

Those strange occurrences, those little blips in your memory were easier to pass off, less difficult to wrestle around in with in your psyche and instead pass off as moments of forgetfulness, a busy student and part time employee with too much on her plate and not enough of a social life

But then things went from being strange, to downright concerning

You knew you had locked the balcony door last night, hell you checked it every damn night, a habit you’d had long before you lived on your own in the middle of a busy city, so why were you not only often finding it unlocked, but one night you found it slightly ajar, the morning breeze rustling the curtains as though they were taunting you step closer

Speaking to some of your other neighbours in passing, none of them had anything close to similar complaints about the laundry machine stealing their undergarments as a price to pay for clean laundry, your panties apparently being the only victims, something you were trying to convince yourself wasn’t as bizarre as it clearly was, especially when you were folding laundry one day and discovered you had quite literally not a single pair of knickers left

And then there were the dreams

If you could even call them that

Dreams where a large, dark stranger creeps into your home, into your bedroom, and simply watches you

Lurks in the corners of your flat and observes your every move, your every breath, never making a single sound, as silent as a ghost

And the stranger never does anything, never says anything, only ever just stands there, until you wake up and you can swear you see his shadow disappearing out of the corner of your eyes as you open them

It doesn’t take long for you to start noticing the shadow when you’re awake too

Disappearing around bends and corners, slipping through grocery aisles and alley ways, blending amongst crowds and backgrounds, vanishing when you turn your head to catch sight of him

You feel like you’re losing your mind

“Why don’t you come out with Jordan and I tonight?” She tries again, coming to drop another box full next to your feet. “Take your mind off of school. We’re going to try that new pub down near Walton Street.”

“I would, but-” You cut yourself off, spotting your manager coming to ring up a customer at the front. The two of you exchange knowing glances and small smiles, knowing your sweet old man of a boss doesn’t truly mind when his employees chit chat together, he says he likes seeing you all getting along, but you still try to keep up appearances

You put your thumb and pinky out to look like a phone before shaking it by your ear, letting your coworker know you’ve got plans for the night as she playfully rolls her eyes at you and mouths “I see, I see” with her hands up in mock surrender, before she’s retreating to gather more boxes from the back

It’s the same plans you’ve had almost every night for going on nearly two weeks now

While it was true that the sudden strange occurrences in your life were preoccupying most of your mind these days, you were still in fact a busy student, and so while you hadn’t entirely forgotten about the stranger you’d promised a coffee to the week prior, you couldn’t hide your genuine surprise at seeing him there that next Sunday

He was sat at a table in the corner, his hands free of any drink, allowing you to pay him back, just as he said he would

What he hadn’t prefaced the last time however, was how quickly he’d make you fall for him

While he might not have been the type of guy you would have originally gone for, unable to deny the intimidating aura that follows him around, you were all too pleased to discover that behind that hardened exterior was someone you got along with without even having to try, discovering he agreed with everything you said, had a lot in common with you, listened attentively to every word you spoke, not to mention he was certainly not hard on the eyes

You weren’t able to sit with him long that morning, explaining to him that the cafe was usually your much needed caffeine stop on your way to work, though you’d walked to the bookstore that morning with a pep in your step, and a new number in your contacts, under the name Simon

It wasn’t even a full 24 hours later when he’d first called you up

You were doing dishes in your flat, getting ready to turn in early that night when your phone rang

You couldn’t help the blush that overtook you at hearing his gravelly voice come through the line, tickling your ear as he apologized for already calling you so soon, he just couldn’t remember the name of that book you’d mentioned yesterday and it was bothering him because he wanted to read it before he saw you again

Next thing you knew, close to three hours had gone by, and you felt like a teenager when you both admitted neither wanted to hang up yet, satisfying one another with a promise to call again soon

Soon, it turns out, was the very next night

And the night after that

And the night after that

And soon, you can Simon were talking on the phone every night before bed, hours and hours racking up as you learned more about each other

It was a nice distraction from the source of your anxieties you refused to fully acknowledge yet, a welcome way to take your mind off the stress you’d been experiencing

If you weren’t already so distracted, you might have been paying just a little closer attention

You might have noticed how skilled he was at deflecting personal question aimed his way, or how he was able to answer without truly answering, always quickly turning the spotlight back to you, making you feel seen and listened to in a way no man had done before, taking the attention away from him time and time again

You might have noticed he agreed with you a little too often, never actually voicing any opinions until he knew what yours was first, never taking a stance unless he knew what yours was

What you really should have noticed was the way he seemed to know things about you that you couldn’t remember telling him, chalking it up to being so tired some nights you must have forgotten sharing that with him

In the end, Simon was saying all the right things at the right time, and you were all too happy to hear what you wanted to hear

It was barely ten minutes passed 9 when you were turning the key in the lock for the night, making sure the doors wouldn’t budge before you tightened your hold on your bag and began the trek home, the butterflies in your stomach begin to flutter at the thought of hearing Simon’s voice through the phone soon enough

Luckily, you were only about eight blocks away from home, and the summer sun had only just begun setting as the last of the customers were dwindling out of the shop, meaning you weren’t walking in total darkness quite yet

Yet somehow, something in the air tonight felt different, had the hairs on the back of your neck rising as though anticipating a predator lurking around the corner, ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey

You tried you continue convincing yourself you were nothing short of delusional, paranoid, that watching too many true crime docs was getting to you

But then, just as you were waiting for the pedestrian crossing sign to change, out of the corner of your eye, you saw your shadow

You whipped your head around too quickly, straining your neck but desperate to catch a glimpse and prove you weren’t crazy, but as always, there was no one there

The small crowd around you began crossing the street, unaware of the adrenaline begin to course through your veins as you hobbled along with them, noticing with regret that no one else continued in the direction you would have to turn, leaving you to traverse the next few blocks alone

You hurried your pace, trying to shake the undeniable feeling of something being wrong, when for the first time, you heard your shadow

Light footsteps that grew heavier the more you paid attention to them, the kind that weren’t casually strolling by as you might have hoped, but rather were on a determined path, and to your utter fear, were gaining speed

You never once dared turn your head this time, fear convincing you that should you stop and look back, he would be right there over your shoulder, a shadow coming to life just in time to take yours away

With your building in sight, you said fuck it and broke out into a sprint, hurrying towards the main doors and frantically entering in your code before the worst fo your fears could come true, never glancing back as the doors unlocked and you made a mad dash inside and up the stairs

You were barely through your apartment door before your phone was in your hand, dialling the last number you’d called, the only number you called these days

He answered before the first ring had finished

“‘ello?”

“Simon.” You hated the way your voice sounded, trembling around his name and giving away the clear distress you were in, but you couldn’t help it. Your poor heart was racing a mile a minute, you had tears threatening to spill over your lash line at any moment, you were trembling like a leaf and wanted to seek out the only comfort you’d had recently

“Wha’s wrong?” He immediately asked, evidently hearing your panic through the phone

“Simon, I just-” you let out a gasp, no longer in control of the tears that were starting to run down your cheeks. You double, triple checked the lock on your door was secured before on trembling legs, you slowly made your way towards the balcony doors, blood running cold when you spotted the latch undone. “I know this sounds insane but I really need you, I- I swear someone’s been following me and I think he’s outside my flat and I- I’m so scared Simon I don’t-”

“You’re alrigh’ love.” He cut off your rambling, the confidence in his voice lending you a sliver of strength for a moment. “Jus’ breathe, yeah? I’ll be righ’ there.”

True to his word, Simon is knocking at your flat door in less than four minutes, another anomaly you would have noticed had you not been in such a frantic state of mind

“It’s me love. Jus’ me.” You hear his voice say through the door, standing up on tip toes to peer through the peephole and confirm for your own peace of mind that it really truly is your knight in shining armour, hardly paying any mind to the fact that this is the first time you see him without a mask on the lower half of his face

You’re practically banging the door against the wall as you swing it open in a hurry to get him inside, grabbing him by his jacket to pull his figure closer to yours, barely giving him a chance to shut it behind him before you’re clinging to him like a lost pet whose been returned to their owner

You can hear him shushing you, a large hand coming to soothe your hair as another grabs you by the waist and holds you tighter, trying to reassure you between your sobs that you’re alright, that he’s here now, that you’re always safe with him

There’s a fleeting moment where you can’t help but think about how this isn’t you, how you’ve always been fiercely independent, how you’ve never needed to rely on others for comfort before, let alone a man you met all of two weeks ago, but the thought is gone just as quickly as it appeared, when Simon pulls back to hold your face gently in both of his hands, thumbs carefully rubbing tears off your cheeks as he looks at you with such sincerity, you couldn’t care less if you’ve known him for two weeks or two years, right now you just need someone to tell you everything is okay, that you’re not insane

He leads you towards the couch, planting you sideways across his lap as he leans your head on his shoulder and rubs a soothing hand across your back

“Now, try again, love. Tell me wha’s happened.”

And when he’s asking you so sweetly, touching you so nicely in a way no one has in who knows how long, how could you every deny him?

You tell him everything, all of it, the bizarre coincidences you can no longer explain away, the strange happenings that you cannot chalk up to forgetfulness, the odd feeling of being constantly watched you cannot shake, you tell him all of it

And Simon, he listens to it all, every concern of yours, every worry you’d had, he nods along showing you he’s listening, never interrupting you, always rubbing some part of your skin to let you know he’s here, he’s here and he’s got you

By the end of it, you’re no longer crying, your heart has begun to slow to a more normal rhythm, the goosebumps dotting your skin only a result of the large man caressing you as you avoid dribbling snot onto his jumper

“You must think I’m crazy, right? I- I even think I sound crazy.” You admit, avoiding looking at him as you pick at a loose thread on his collar

“Not at all, love.” His words have your eyes lifting to meet his, finding nothing but honesty in his steady gaze.

“W-what?”

“Said I believe you.” He reiterates, giving your hip a slight squeeze before he’s dragging his fingers down across your thigh, rubbing soothing strokes against your flesh. “Everythin’ you jus’ told me, I don’ wanna scare you bird, but I think you migh’ be righ’. Sounds like someone’s been followin’ ya.”

He must see it in your face, the way your heart practically drops to the floor at his words, because he���s gripping the meat of your thigh a little tighter, opening his mouth to continue before you can spiral further

“But you’re so smart, love. You did exactly the righ’ thing, callin’ me. You knew I wouldn’ let anythin’ happen to ya. I’m here now, I’ve got ya.”

His words are akin to stepping into a steaming warm bath at the end of a gruelling day, the exact comfort you needed in that moment, easing you slowly back into a state of calm, though you don’t feel quite out of the woods yet

“Let me take care of ya, huh? Here, follow me.” He gives your thigh one last squeeze before he’s helping you back up onto more stable legs, never going without at least on hand touching you as he guides you towards your balcony door, making a show of peering outside for any lurking dangers before he snaps the lock in place and draws the curtains shut

“C’mon, let’s check all your windows, eh? Can’t be too sure.”

And so you follow him room to room, watching him with growing gratitude as he goes from window to window, ensuring it’s properly shut and locked before moving onto the next, scanning each room for any sign of a disturbance, letting you know everything is clear each time, until there’s only one door left to go through

Simon inches the door to your bedroom open with the toe of his boot, letting it hit the wall before he steps inside, doing a full scan before he nods towards you to follow him in

You take a seat at the end of your bed as you watch him move through your space, checking your window and closing your curtains, even going as far as to open your closet and peek under the bed, something that forces a fleeting smile on your face in spite of the circumstances

“Think that’s everythin’, birdie.” He admits, coming to sit down next to you on the bed, thighs touching, his muscled arm sneaking around your shoulders to pull you into him. “My brave girl. You’ve been goin’ through all this by yourself, huh?”

“Mhm.” You confirm, feeling too exhausted after the rush of emotions and adrenaline let down to say anything more, too tired to notice the way he’s taken to calling you his all of a sudden, especially when Simon’s embrace is so warm, so inviting

“Poor bird. Must’ve been so scary, not knowing who’s out there.” He coos into your ear, brushing your hair back from your neck, letting you feel his hot breath against your skin. “Aren’t you so glad you called? That I’m ‘ere now?”

“Mhm. Thank you, Simon.” You murmur, the events of the day really catching up to you now

“You never have to thank me, love. I’m here with ya. Not goin’ anywhere.” You feel your lashes flutter shut when his chapped lips come to press a chaste kiss to your temple, as gentle as a butterflies wings as this behemoth of a man comforts you. “You jus’ let me take care of ya now, love. Let me make it all better. Make ya feel good.”

There’s a fraction of a second where your mind catches back up to you, where logic floats up to the surface of your consciousness when you feel Simon’s hand sneak under your shirt, something on the tip of your tongue about how this is only the third time you meet face to face, how you haven’t gone on a proper date yet, how you’ve only known him two weeks-

Any common sense flies out the window however when his lips connect with yours

As his calloused fingers manage to rid you of your top before tangling in your hair, your own are grasping on tightly at his collar, allowing him to take control of the kiss, to take control of the situation, to do as he’s promised and make you feel good, make you forget about everything that’s had you so on edge and allow yourself to be taken care of

Simon hasn’t steered you wrong so far, has he? He’s been nothing but kind, nothing but attentive, nothing but sweet and caring and present and-

Fuck can he kiss

Your heart is racing for an entirely different reason as his fingers reach behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall haphazardly amongst your sheets before he’s pulling his lips off of yours, kissing and nipping along your jaw, your neck, down your collarbone and sternum until his hot breath is tickling one of your nipples and he sucks it gently into his mouth, teeth playfully skimming the raised bud

You can’t help the way you melt like putty in his hands, unknowingly as touch starved as he is, unable to hold back the sounds of your enjoyment when his other hand comes up to tweak your neglected breast, squeezing and pinching until it’s as taut as the one he’s still slobbering all over

Your fingers are pulling at the fabric of his jumper, arching into his touch and gasping when he lets your breast go with a ‘plop’, before his mouth is trailing wet kisses down your sternum, down your stomach, before his skilled fingers are tugging down your pants

“No panties, hm?” You never could have imagined his voice could be deeper than it already was, but the sound of his gravelly accent has chills running up your spine, blush deepening when you see the dark look in his eyes as he peers down at your bare, weeping slit

You have half a mind to explain that you haven’t had time to run to the shops and replace all your missing knickers, but quickly lose any sense of time and place when his broad shoulders are pushing themselves between your thighs, opening them up for his head to drop down and his lips to wrap around your throbbing clit

You can feel him smirk against your folds at the sound you let out, something between a moan and a gasp, before he’s pulling out more delicious noises from you with his tongue alone

“Mmm, you really do taste as good as you look.” He murmurs against your dripping folds, eyes dancing with mischief before his lips are on you again

You feel like your entire being has been pulled apart and put back together in the blink of an eye, your would be stalker having you fearing for your life, and now Simon having you holding on for dear life

You can both hear and feel him groaning against your pussy, licking up your arousal, probing his skilled tongue around your entrance before plunging it as deep as the muscle will go, reminiscent of a man starved as he devours you from the inside out, with no sign of being satiated any time soon

“Simon!” You plead, toes curling, legs shaking. You can hardly believe this is happening, that you’re on the precipice of cumming on this man’s tongue so soon, when suddenly his thumb sneaks down and slides across your clit engorged clit, rubbing steady circles until you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids, eyes rolling to the back of your head and his name the only word you know as you fall headfirst off that cliff known as ecstasy

You’re gasping for breath, still coming back to yourself when he finally pulls himself away, licking his lips as though this was a five star meal he’s just tasted, the look in his eyes telling you he’s likely to be a returning customer

With the way he’s brought you to orgasm faster than any vibrator ever has, you’re hardly in any place to protest when you hear the sound of his belt being undone, his zipper being pulled down, a ringing in your ears when your eyes land on his throbbing, erect member

You barely get a chance to gasp at its size before Simon is on you again, strong hands dragging you further up the mattress before he’s kissing you senseless yet again

You can feel him pumping his cock with one hand as he takes his time tasting you, having you taste yourself on his tongue

He pulls one of your legs up around his waist, opening your centre up to him before you can feel the head of his prick sliding through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit until you’re practically shaking, rolling your hips up against him

He’s swallowing your gasp when he notches himself at your entrance, wasting no time before he’s sinking himself inch by devastating inch, plunging further and further than you thought was possible, until he’s all the way in, hips flush with yours as he’s sheathed himself completely inside you, a perfect fit

While sweet might have been a word you used for the Simon who talks to you on the phone at all hours, who buys you coffee when your cards decline, you cannot bring yourself to believe that that same sweet Simon is the same man who begins thrusting in and out of you with such vigour, such force, it knocks the breath right out of your lungs as your headboard begins banging against the wall

“Fuck!” He’s grunting in your ear, the sounds of skin slapping and your wetness squelching echoing in the room. “Fuckin’ knew it. Knew you’d be this tight. So warm, so wet for me. Perfect fuckin’ pussy.”

“Simon! Oh, Simon!” His name is the only word your lips can make sense of, the only thing your mind can understand. You’re already headed towards another climax, your body feeling like an instrument he’s spent years mastering the art of playing

“Yeah, you gonna come again, pretty bird? Come on my cock? Just for me?” He’s picking up his pace, intent of meeting you there with his own release, grip tightening on your waist as he plunges in and out of you, feeling your tight walls increasingly gripping his cock. “Say it. Say it’s just for me. Say it.”

“It- it’s for you. Just for you, Simon! You!”

“Fuckin’ righ’ it is. My perfect girl.” He praises, sucking dark purple circles onto your neck, fingers unrelenting in their teasing against your clit. “You want it, pretty girl? Then fuckin’ take it.”

Your vision goes white, body practically going numb the pleasure is so all consuming as it shoots through every nerve ending and back, every star in the galaxy appearing before your eyes as you come on his cock. You’re so lost in your orgasm, you hardly notice when he groans out your own name, hips stilling as he shoots his load into you, rutting helplessly against your overused cunt to drag out every second of ecstasy, making sure you take very last drop he has to give you

If you were exhausted before, you’re practically dead to the world now, uncaring that Simon doesn’t even pull out his softening member as he maneuvers the two of you under the covers, smoothing your hair back as he kisses all over your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips

He rubs soothing hands up and down your naked back, telling you how good you did, how good you are for him, how good he’ll be for you, before he’s reaching to turn your lamp off, casting the two of you into darkness as sleep fights to drag you under

You’re on the brink of slumber, too spent to really think about anything that’s transpired tonight, though just conscious enough to feel the smallest of alarms try and go off in the back of your foggy mind at Simon’s words, the last of your self preservation instincts trying to weave its way to the front of your mind, waving the red flag as high as it’ll go

“Good thing I came over soon as you called. Who knows what could’ve happened.”

Your eyes snap open

You’d never told Simon where you lived

~~~~~

If you’ve made it this far, I’d like to offer you a sticker of appreciation

Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! Thank you for your patience on this fic, I cannot even tell you how many times I felt like this story was ready to be posted, but I’d reread it and wouldn’t be satisfied with how it was. This is probably the draft I’ve spent the most time on, and so again I really appreciate the patience in waiting for the upload

But here she is!!! And I hope she was worth the wait

I know this is different from the usual fluff I post, both with a darker Ghost and smut still not being my forte, but I really do sincerely hope this part 2 was everything you guys hoped for! I had a lot of fun writing it, turned into one of my longest ones, and now I’m excited to get to my inbox and answer more requests from you lovely folks

- M 🫶🏻

[homeofthelonelywriter]

The boys still couldn’t believe it. They had just taken down Makarov, Johnny barely surviving it, and now they were somewhere in America, in a beach house with a strip of private beach. All curtesy of Kate, apparently it belonged to her family but was hardly used, so the boys using it was a welcome change.

They had been uncertain if they wanted to accept the (paid for) vacation, but after they all finally got released from the hospital, Price decided it was time for a break and some relaxation. So, they packed their bags and flew to the States. Kate had given them a brief introduction on what was where over the phone and the excitement grew, especially when she mentioned that there was scuba diving equipment.

So, the moment they arrived, after quickly dumping their stuff in the entry way and changing, they grabbed the equipment and set out into the waters. Even Simon couldn’t suppress a small smile or hide his excitement. At first, they stayed fairly close to the surface, but after Johnny saw a colorful fish he wanted to follow, they continued on into deeper waters. And that was when they heard it.

At first, it sounded like a wounded animal, but nothing like anything they had heard before. Either way, a sudden protectiveness coursed through them as they followed the sound to the source. And then they saw it. Or rather her. You.

Your tail had gotten stuck in an abandoned fishing net and you couldn’t get out. Originally, you had tried to reach your people with your cries, but no one came. Well, except for these four men suddenly in front of you. The few encounters you had with humans so far, had never ended well, so no one could blame you when you shrunk back in fear, reaching for the dagger that usually rested in its sheath on your hip, but you had lost it when you tried to free yourself earlier.

The men and you starred at each other for a few moments, before one of them approached. Immediately you tried to swim away, momentarily forgetting about the net, but you were immediately pulled back as the rope cut into your scales. A pained wail escaped you, as blood slowly seeped into the water. The man quickly raised his hands, before slowly gesturing to the net and then to his thigh, where you could see a small knife. You could see his eyebrows raise, as if asking for permission, and you slowly nodded, hoping that they would just let you go afterwards.

He mirrored your nod, before slowly approaching you and taking out his knife. With precision that was unknown to you, he cut through the rope until you were free. Out of reflex, you darted away, your tail swishing hard enough to send the man back a bit, making him loose his grip on the knife and you watched as it disappeared into the darkness. You glanced back at the four, before diving into the darkness, after the knife. Along with it, you found your dagger, which you put back in its place, before swimming back up, just to see the four still there, as if they hadn’t moved. Slowly, you swam up to the man who freed you and held out the knife with both hands, a small smile gracing your lips.

He took it from you, nodding in thanks. After one more glance over all of them, you turned around and swam back to your home, taking a few detours in case they were following you. But when you came to rest later that day, you mind stayed with the men. No matter what you did, you couldn’t stop thinking about them. And little did you know that they had the exact same problem.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3

A/N: Inspired by a post by @beloveds-embrace. Should I continue this?

[kaiist]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄/𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

You wake up early, stretching lazily before grabbing Xavier’s hoodie from where it hangs on the rack like it’s routine. He’s still sleeping soundly as you slip out of the bedroom. The hoodie envelops you completely, sleeves hanging past your wrists, carrying his distinct, comforting scent.

In the kitchen, you prepare a simple breakfast for yourself, and a plate for Xavier that you know will likely go cold. The morning news plays quietly on the TV as you settle onto the couch, legs tucked underneath you, swimming in the soft fabric of his hoodie, feeling wrapped in Xavier’s presence despite his absence.

Movement catches your eye as Xavier appears in the doorway. His eyes find you immediately, taking in the sight of you wearing his clothing.

“Good morning,” you say, offering him his plate. “I made you breakfast.”

Xavier glances at the food but doesn’t take it. Instead, he shifts closer, arm sliding around your shoulders to pull you against his side. “Later,” he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep.

His fingers trace absent patterns on your arm through the fabric of his hoodie, and you can feel him breathing in deeply, as if taking in the sight of you wrapped in something that belongs to him.

You nestle closer, and within minutes, his breathing becomes more even. Looking up, you find his eyes have drifted closed, his posture completely relaxed. You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw. Even in sleep, his arm remains securely around you, keeping you close as if unwilling to let you go now that he’s found you this way—comfortable, content, and wrapped in his clothing.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

The mission had been longer than expected, and you’re exhausted as you make your way back home. Zayne had returned from his shift a few hours ago, and you’ve been looking forward to seeing him after days apart. You’re wearing his jacket—the black one with the subtle white trim that you’d taken from his closet before leaving. It’s become a comfort object during your mission, the lingering scent of his cologne providing reassurance during stressful moments.

You stop at the corner store for snacks before finally unlocking the apartment door. The place is quiet but warm as you kick off your shoes and pad toward the living room.

You find Zayne on the couch with journals spread around him. He looks up as you enter, his eyes immediately locking onto his jacket draped over your frame. Given his preference for professional coats, his collection of casual jackets and hoodies is small and meticulously maintained—making the absence of even one immediately noticeable to someone as detail-oriented as him.

“So that’s where it went,” he says. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he sets aside his work, creating space beside him.

You drop down next to him with a tired sigh. “Found me out.”

Zayne reaches out, fingers brushing against the collar of his jacket where it meets your neck. The touch is gentle, almost reverent. “It suits you better than me,” he murmurs.

His hand moves to your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side. “Next time,” he says, voice low near your ear, “take more than one. You know I don’t mind.”

His arm remains around you, a subtle but clear indication that while you may have his jacket, he’s pleased to have you.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

The gallery opening had been exhausting—too many people packed into too small a space, all of them wanting a piece of Rafayel’s attention. You’d smiled and nodded and played your part perfectly, but by the time you returned to his seaside home, you were completely drained.

Rafayel had stayed behind to handle some business with Thomas, insisting you go ahead without him. You’d grabbed one of his hoodies—the soft blue one with white pattern of waves—and changed into it the moment you got home. Now, curled up on the couch with the artsy duckie plushie he’d won for you clutched against your chest, you’d finally found peace in the quiet of the evening.

The sound of the door opening and closing barely registers as you drift between sleep and wakefulness. You vaguely hear the soft footsteps approaching, then a delighted sound that could only come from Rafayel.

“Oh, look at you,” he coos, his voice soft. “Absolutely precious.”

You hear the click of his phone camera and crack open one eye to see him standing above you, a fond expression on his face as he takes another photo to set it as his home screen later.

“Are you documenting my crime?” you mumble sleepily.

“I’m documenting perfection,” he corrects, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Move over a bit.”

You comply, and he squeezes onto the couch beside you, pulling you half onto his chest. His fingers thread through your hair, and you feel the tension in his body from the event slowly release.

“Did Thomas give you a hard time about leaving early?” you ask, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

“Thomas always gives me a hard time,” Rafayel replies with a dismissive wave. “But I’d rather be here with you.”

You snuggle closer, the artsy duckie plushie squished between you, and feel him press a kiss to the top of your head as you both settle into the comfortable silence.

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

Snow falls in thick flakes outside the window, blanketing the forest view in pristine white. You stand before the floor-to-ceiling glass, mesmerized by the winter snow cascading from the gloomy sky. Sylus’s dark jacket envelops you like a protective shell, the sleeves long enough that you can curl your fingers into them. It smells like him—a blend of expensive cologne and something uniquely his—and wearing it feels almost like being wrapped in his embrace.

You’ve been standing there for nearly twenty minutes, lost in thought, when you hear the door to the residence open and close. You don’t turn, knowing exactly who it is from the footsteps entering the room.

“Enjoying the view?” Sylus asks, his voice closer than you expected.

You glance over your shoulder to find him watching you with an expression that makes your heart rate quicken. His eyes track from your face down to the jacket you’re wearing.

“It’s peaceful,” you reply, turning back to the window. “Everything looks so quiet from up here.”

“Indeed,” he agrees, though you can tell from his reflection in the glass that he’s not looking at the snow at all. He moves to sit behind you, close enough that you can feel his warmth. “Though I must say, my jacket looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

You smile, watching his reflection. “It’s warm.”

“If it’s warmth you’re seeking,” Sylus says, his hands coming to rest lightly on your shoulders, “perhaps I could offer something more comforting than a piece of fabric?”

You turn to face him, still wrapped in his jacket. “Is that an offer or a command?”

His lips curve into that familiar smirk as he pulls you closer. “With you? Always an offer.”

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

The DAA jacket is practically a relic now—Caleb hasn’t worn it in years, not since he became Colonel in the Farspace Fleet. But it still hangs in the closet of your shared place, and on the nights when he’s away on missions, you find yourself reaching for it.

Tonight is one of those nights. The bed feels too big, too empty without him, and the jacket is a poor substitute but better than nothing. You’ve wrapped yourself in it, breathing in the faint traces of his scent that somehow still cling to the fabric after all this time.

You’re reading through reports on your tablet when the door slides open unexpectedly. You look up, startled, to see Caleb standing in the doorway, still in his Fleet uniform, a day earlier than scheduled.

“Caleb! You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow,” you say, sitting up straighter.

His eyes immediately zero in on the jacket you’re wearing, and a slow, teasing grin spreads across his face. “Well, well. What do we have here? A thief in the house?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “Hardly stealing when it’s been hanging untouched for years.”

Caleb fully enters the room and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to finger the fabric of the jacket’s collar. “I don’t know,” he says, voice dropping lower. “Looks like theft to me. I should probably report this.”

“I’ll give it back,” you offer, starting to shrug it off.

“Don’t you dare,” he says quickly, catching your hands with a grin. “It looks better on you anyway.” He pauses, then adds with mischief, “In fact, I think you should raid my entire closet. Take it all. Every last shirt and sock.”

You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him. “Welcome home, Caleb.”

“Home is wherever you are,” he replies, pulling you closer. “Stolen jacket and all.”

Based on this request.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warning: dubcon, predator and prey, double peen, breeding

Imagine being bought as food for a snake!hybrid only for him to keep you as his little bunny mate~

Every hybrid knew that getting taken home from the store was a good day. You had just arrived, and you mingled with the other bunny hybrids as people began filing in to look at the new hybrids available.

Before you knew it, you were being lifted out of your enclosure, your hair being styled and your fluffy ears brushed before you were dressed in soft pastels that complimented your eyes.

For most people, a bunny hybrid would either be a prized possession or a sexual partner, and you assumed you'd be the second by all the pampering you were receiving before you were purchased.

It made you nervous just as much as it excited you.

Your chubby cheeks heated up as you imagined the life you'd have outside of the hybrid store. Would you be doted on as a precious pet, or lusted after by a handsome owner?

It made your heart race to think about!

But your hopes were dashed when you were handed over to a tall, scary looking man. He barely looked at you as he talked to the owner of the store, keeping a tight grip on your leash.

"She's the most plump bunny hybrid we have, sir. It seems you like them chubby, huh?"

The man looked down at you with a strange, almost sinister look. "You could say that."

As he led you out of the store, your cotton tail wagged nervously. "O-owner, where are we going?"

He stayed quiet for a moment before glancing down at you. "I'm not your owner, I bought you for someone else."

You felt a sudden wave of relief. Maybe he had a girlfriend that he wanted to give you to, or had kids.

Although you weren't thrilled to be a nanny or some pet that was fussed over, it was better than having to mate with some weird guy.

Unfortunately, your fate was worse than you could have ever imagined.

He led you into his dark home, pushing you inside and getting rough with you the second no one else could see.

"Can't believe they dress you little vermin up like this, makes it harder for my big guy to digest you."

You blinked in confusion, but a yelp was ripped from you when the man grabbed you by the ears and dragged you down a flight of stairs into a dimly lit basement.

"S-stop that, it hurts!" you babbled out, tears running down your chubby cheeks. The man only scoffed, holding you still as he took out a key.

"You won't be in pain for much longer."

You heard the sound of him unlocking something, and you were shoved into a door before it was slammed behind you.

All you could do was cry. That asshole owner of yours had been rough with your delicate ears, tossed you into a damp and dark room, then left you all alone!

As tears poured down your chubby cheeks and fell into your lap, you heard a sound somewhere in the distance. Instantly, your ears pricked up and you were on full alert.

Your instincts told you something was watching and waiting for the moment to strike.

Before you could think of fight or flight, something wrapped around your body, constricting your movements.

“Finally, owner has given me something good to eat~”

You thrashed around violently, every movement only making whatever was wrapped around you tighten even more.

“Don’t struggle, you poor little thing. It’ll be over quick, I promise,” he cooed. Something wet flicked across your neck, a purring rumbling in his chest.

“P-please, don’t kill me! I’ll… d-do anything!” you blubbered out, your little bunny heart thumping wildly in your chest. You could just die from fright! Just before a pair of teeth were about to sink into your flesh, they stopped and simply brushed against your skin.

“Oh… anything, hmm?”

You were nearly blinded when the light was turned on. Whatever had been restraining you loosened just enough for you to pull out your arms and rub your eyes.

When you opened them, you nearly had a heart attack.

Staring down at you was a pair of pink snake eyes, and wrapped around your body was a thick tail of pure muscle. The white and pink scales glittered in the dim light, sparkling so brightly you nearly had to squint to see.

“Mmm… you are pretty cute. Usually I devour my pray in the dark and digest under my heat lamp after,” the snake hybrid mused, squeezing you. The squeak you let out seemed to amuse him.

“My owner hasn’t brought me a mate yet… I guess I’ll have to make due for now.”

He held you up, opening up your thighs to get a look at you. Your body trembled, and you let out scared squeaks as he pulled the silk panties you had been dressed in aside.

“I knew I smelled something good… look at you, little bunny. You’re soaking wet…”

Before your cruel owner threw you downstairs, you had been imagining so many different things. Bunny hybrids were typically bought for companionship, and usually of the sexual variety.

Two of his fingers pumped in and out of you, curling up inside and pressing against your g-spot. “Such a brave bunny… I’ve had a few offer their pussy to me before, but I’ve never taken them up on the offer. You’re different, so soft…”

His tongue flicked out again. “And you’re so close to your heat, aren’t you?”

You squirmed in his grasp, feeling his tail tighten around you again. Although he talked a big game, his cocks twitched in excitement as he teased and played with your cunt.

The snake hybrid had never been so close to a fertile female before. His words from before had been a lie, no female had ever offered to mate with him. This would be his first time…

Drool dropped into your shoulder as he positioned his cocks at your entrance, his precum helping to lube up your hole.

His cocks were almost dripping, and he was desperate to claim his little mate. Going a few weeks without a meal wouldn’t be so bad if he had such a cute little bunny to fuck whenever he pleased.

One of his hands gripped and squeezed your fat ass, and he licked his lip when he noticed your little bunny tail twitching.

It was embarrassing, he was already head over heels for you. The snake hybrid wouldn’t let you know that though, he enjoyed hearing you little squeaks and whimpers as you wondered when he’d devour you.

One of his cock stretched you out slowly. Your little bunny cunt was meant to be used and bred, it was what you were made for. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, getting such a perfect little bunny as his mate.

“I’m gonna take good care of you,” he cooed, bouncing you on one cock as the other rubbed against your clit. “Gonna fatten you up even more, my cute little bunny~”

You whimpered, already on your third orgasm. The stimulation of his tip against your clit as his other cock pressed against your cervix was almost too much to bear!

His cum dropped out of your poor cunt by the time he was done with you. Everything felt sore, and his lower body constricting you as he clung to your chubby form didn’t help much.

You felt like a toy… and it seemed he would be playing with you often.

Part 2? Become a member of my Creature Tier on Patreon or Kofi and ask for it, or send a tip on Kofi! If you want to read more early and exclusive content, become a member of my Patreon or Kofi!

—————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @breathingstarlight

[bloomiize]

perv/gooner!jake is gross and he's gotten even worse

part one two three

perv!jake finally asks for your instagram when you're paired up for a project. It’s not like he doesn’t already know it by heart. Not like he hasn’t jerked off to every single one of your posts. Not like he wasn’t drooling over that innocent little selfie you posted last night. He just wants you to know he exists now. And you happily exchange Instagrams with him like it’s nothing.

perv!jake tells his roommate everything. He asks for advice on how to get closer to you, more specifically, how he could get his dick wet.

"She sounds hot. If you ever wanna recreate that hentai scene, let me know." Jake and his roommate have always joked around about sex, but this time it felt real. Too real. His dick is already begging to be touched at the thought of fucking you, he doesn't mind if he isn't the only one.

perv!jake made an effort to get to know you. Your favourite colour, the way you like your coffee, the songs you hum when you're zoning out. He also knows how you always tug your skirt down when you think it’s ridden up too high, not high enough in his opinion. How you're so naive to just bend over without thinking, right in front of him. He knows you prefer lacy panties over thongs, soft and girly, the kind he imagines peeling off you with his teeth. He’s memorized you. Every inch. Every habit. Every sound you make.

perv!jake likes how close you two are now. You always invite him over to study, to work on the project like good classmates. And yeah, maybe he’s looked through your drawers when you’re in the kitchen. Maybe he’s taken a not-so-innocent glance at your laundry basket, eyes locked on the crumpled pair of panties sitting right on top.

He’s thought about it.

Pocketing a bra, a pair of panties, hell—even a sock. Just something. Anything that smells like you. Feels like you. Something he can wrap around his fist while he jerks off to the thought of your soft little voice saying his name.

It’s disgusting. He knows that. Still doesn’t stop him.

perv!jake can never make it halfway through the door without his dick twitching. Can you really blame him, though? You’re always wearing a tiny tank top, no bra, and he can see everything. Your shorts, if you can even call them that, barely cover your ass, riding up with every step you take. Jake nearly cums in his pants right then and there.

perv!jake helps you solve a complicated problem, and you light up like he’s the smartest boy in the world. As a sign of your appreciation, you hug him, tight, soft, your tits pressing right up against his chest like it's nothing.

And he moans.

Quiet. Slips out before he can even think. You don’t seem to notice. You just keep smiling, thanking him like you can't feel something hard pressed against you. His dick’s already leaking, he can feel it.

He clears his throat, cheeks red. “I- uh, I’m not really feeling the best. I think I’m gonna head out early.”

You pout, sweet and worried, and offer to get him some water, maybe let him lie down, hoping he'll stay a bit longer. But he’s already opening the door.

Because he needs to get home. Now. He’s seconds from cumming in his pants, and he knows once he’s alone he’s gonna jerk it to the feeling of your tits against him—again and again until he’s lightheaded and shaking.

gooner!jake cant stop thinking about you, or more specifically, your tits. Its hard not to when they're so perfect. Soft, warm, and pushed against him when you hugged. He swears you did it on purpose, not that he minds. He can't stop fucking the panties he took from your apartment a few days ago when you had him over, surely you didn't notice they went missing. They're dirty and sticky from his fluids but he can't stop, he wont stop. Jake's not proud of it but this is the closest he's getting to fucking your perfect pussy.

gooner!jake got a call from you in the middle of edging himself for the third time tonight.

"Hey! Did you make it home okay? You left in a hurry and you said you weren't feeling well..." Your voice rings through his head. He's gripping his dick tighter now, still moving his hand up and down. He can't just cum immediently to the sound of your voice, that would be so embarrassing. He has to last longer for you.

"Y-yeah I made it home fine. T-thanks" Jake's holding back moans. It's disgusting how even when he's on the phone he won't stop. He cock is throbbing in agony, he's been edging himself non stop and he so desperately wants to cum, to feel you, to fill you up.

"You don't sound sound okay Jakey, you should've just stayed. I would've taken care of you." You say it so innocently that Jake loses it. He lets out a groan and thrusts his hips violently into his hand. Jake knows your panties are ruined by him but it doesn't stop him from shoving it into his mouth, pretending he's tasting your sweet cunt against his dirty tongue

How could you just say that so casually? Calling him Jakey? Saying you would've taken care of him?

You have no idea what you do to him.

"f-f-fuck y/n. I want you so fucking b-bad." It slips out of Jake's mouth before he realizes it.

"Walking around with those t-tiny shorts. I should've just be-bent you over." His brain is practically gone at this point, all he cares about is cumming. His eyes are rolling to the back of his head while his hand moves furiously. He's moaning loudly enough that you could hear him through the phone. He doesn't care anymore; he wants to be gross for you, if you'd let him.

"I'm go-gonna cum, fu-fuck!" His hips sputtered into his fist and thick, hot ropes of cum sprayed all over his phone. He's oversentive from edging himself nonstop, brain completely empty and dick still hard.

gooner!jake realizes that you were still on the phone, you didn't hang up. Before he can apologize, your small voice comes out,

a whimper.

Are you... are you touching yourself to him right now?

from bloomiize: tysm for reading the first part!! I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone to ask for a part 2, let alone enjoy my writing 😭 I was super nervous posting >< but your support means everything!! lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist for part 3 !!

taglist (OMG I HAVE A TAGLIST?!?! if you commented on part 1 I tagged you, lmk if you wanna be removed! ^^)

@femmefqtqle @seobinghard @maysshade @dark-moon-light02 @jjongsies @nikismyprincesses @iaaespa @heeseungsbm @shy9-29

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run pt 2

By the time the five of you are in the house, you’re soaked through once more, teeth chattering when the cool air of the house hits your skin as Gaz opens the door, holding it open long enough to let the dogs trot in.

“Hey! Shake over there!” He shoos, flinching when Maggie sprays him with her shake off.

“Let’s get you taken care of pretty.” Price murmurs, and you push weakly at his chest, struggling to get down. Your mind is foggy, exhaustion fighting to take over, but there are four strange men now standing in your living room, and that seemed more pressing.

Price grunts, but finally gives in, setting you on your feet, and you put as much distance between yourself and them as you can. “What do you want? What is going on here?” You demand, trying to ignore the shake of your voice.

They glance at each other, having a silent conversation, and you glance towards the stairs. You had an old cell phone, and the service this far out was absolutely shit, but it was a chance-

“We would like a place to stay.” Price’s voice interrupts your thoughts, and your eyes shoot to look at them, and a shocked laugh tumbles past your lips.

“A place to stay? After what just happened? For god’s sake I don’t even know you!” You laugh, slightly hysteric, and Price takes a cautious step towards you, holding up his hands. “We didn’t mean to scare you sweetheart, honest. Didn’t think anyone lived here by the looks of it.” His tone is soft, comforting. He approaches you slowly, and you back away until your back hits the wall.

“How did you even know we were in there?” Ghost speaks this time, eyes trained on your face and you try not to crack under his gaze.

“You spooked Sebastian. In the six years I’ve lived here nothing has ever spooked that horse.” You glare, anger flaring when the four of them laugh. “You think scaring my stallion is funny?”

“No little bird, just…” Ghost trails off, chuckling and you can feel your eye twitch ever so slightly.

“It’s cute how protective you are over some animals.” He finishes, and he can tell his words are winding you up, the crinkle around his eyes indicating he finds this amusing. Bastard.

“They might just be animals to you,” You start, your frustration seeping into your words as you straighten your back. “But when I found this place they were starving and on the brink of death. I worked my ass off to make sure they made it. I worked for their trust after some asshole abandoned them here to fucking die. They are my herd, this is my land!” Your shoulders heave, sucking in a deep breath as you try to calm your racing heart.

They stare at you, quiet and you close your eyes, clenching your fist as you struggle to maintain yourself. “You broke into my barn and scared my animals, held my own knife to my throat and invited yourselves into my home. Why is god's name should I let you stay here?” You ask, opening your eyes to stare them down, and for the first time tonight, they seem to crack under your gaze for once.

“Have you… Do you have any way of hearing the news?” Price questions, wincing and you frown. “The radio when I’m cleaning the barn. Why?”

They hesitate, looking between themselves as they shuffle their feet. Your eyes bounce between them, trying to think back to anything of importance that a reporter has broadcasted as of late.

Missing sheep from a town more than four hours north of you, a four way pile up down one of the highways,a break out at the prison, a wheeler transporting 60,000 gallons of wine tipping near the river…

A break out at the prison.

You freeze, all air leaving your lungs as you stare at them, four wanted criminals standing in your living room. You feel your knees buckle.

They notice your realization, hesitation crossing Price’s face when he notices your stiff figure.

“Please. Let us explain ourselves.” He all but begs, and you feel your hands shaking.

“You are wanted criminals!” You hiss, and they cringe, their previous bravado has disappeared.

“We will explain everything to you, we swear. Just… Please give us a chance.” Soap steps forward this time, big wide eyes trained on you. They’re just as soaked as you are, and in the light of the living room you see the bags under their eyes, the tension in their shoulders. They look exhausted, and not just from this night. There’s a haunted look behind their eyes, and you curse yourself when you feel your heart ache ever so slightly.

You make a noise at the back of your throat, turning to head up the stairs.

“Pretty where are you-“

“You’re soaking my floor. You can explain it to me after I’m out of this damn gown.” You mumble, hearing one of them mumble ‘damn shame’.

“I heard that!”

After a few moments you come back, a box of clothes in hand and they all raise a brow. “Thought you said no one else lived here?” Gaz asks suspiciously when they notice it’s a box of men’s clothes. You roll your eyes, shoving it into his hands.

“They’re my ex-husbands, I took it by mistake when I moved my boxes.” You huff, crossing your arms. It’s your turn to raise a brow at their shocked expressions. “What’s with your faces?”

“What kind of eejit divorces such a gorgeous lass?” Soap asks, and you feel insulted, till you realise he’s not joking. They all look you over, and you feel your face warm at the way their eyes darken. Turning away, you clear your throat, pointing up the stairs.

“The guest room is down the hall, it has a bathroom and towels. Leave your clothes in the tub.” You order, making your way towards your bedroom. You feel the stairs shake as they bound up them, and as they pass, Price give’s your hip a little squeeze and you swat at his hand.

“Thank you pretty.”

“I haven’t said yes yet. You were just ruining my hardwood floors.” You sniff, smacking his hand once more when he doesn’t let go.

“You are testing my patience most of all.”

“You haven’t made us leave though.”

“I can change that very quickly.” You snap, pulling his hand off your side and he takes the opportunity to pull you close, leaning down next to your ear.

“But I don’t think you will, will you sweetheart?” He whispers, and you bite your lip, pushing at his chest. “For god's sake, go change you old perv.” You hiss, wiggling in his grasp and he flashes you a grin before letting you go.

You slip into your room, locking the door before pressing your head against it. What have you gotten yourself into?

You quickly take a hot shower, letting the scalding water bring warmth back to your stiff joints. You towel off quickly, slipping into an oversized hoodie and some old pajama pants.

You can still hear the shower running down the hall when you step out, a boom of thunder sounding in the distance. You slip down to the kitchen, grabbing one of your mugs. You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

How could you be so foolish as to be letting escaped convicts use your bathroom?! God the feds were probably spread to every point in the world trying to track these men down. You can’t remember much the broadcast had said, just that there were four dangerous men on the run from one of the maximum security prisons a couple of hours away. How on earth did they wind up here?

You’re so lost to your thoughts you don’t hear the stairs creak, staring out into the backyard as you mull things over in your mind.

“‘Ppreciate the clothes lass, loads better!” A cheerful voice spooks you and you jump, dropping your mug to the floor. “Shit!” You curse, a matching ‘ah hell’ leaving Soap.

“Didn’t mean to scare you again bonnie, I’m sorry.” He sighs, running a hand over his face. You’re surprised to find genuine guilt there, and he gives you a sheepish look. “I’ll clean this up for ye.”

“Gone and lost us our chance Soap?” Gaz asks, frowning at the glass on the ground but Soap just waves him off. “Accident, scared the poor lass.”

“We keep doing that, she'll never give us a chance.” Gaz smiles at you, soft and sweet but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, the bags under them worse after having cleaned up, and you feel that strange ache in your chest again. You glance at Soap, who is picking up the shards with his bare hands and you frown, swatting his hands away as you kneel beside him.

“Are you trying to hurt yourself?” You scold, and he gives you a surprised look before smiling, shrugging as he gently stops your hands from piling the remains of the mug. “Could ask the same of you bonnie, hands like these are much too pretty for such sharp things.” He mumbles, scooping up the shards without a care.

The two of them eye you nervously, and you can feel knots in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you motion towards the living room. “Sit. I’ll make something to drink.” You offer. They raise a brow and you glance at the ground.

“I’m sorry, I just thought-“

“No need to apologize, it’s just…” Gaz starts, trying to find the words and glances at Soap.

“We’re honestly surprised you didn't run for the nearest house possible when you had the chance.” Soap says bluntly, and you wince.

“No one around for miles.” You admit, and their faces fall slightly, shoulders tensing and you clear your throat. “I said I would hear you out. I plan to.” You say firmly, turning to walk into the kitchen, just to bump into a large chest.

“I gotta worry about you keeping your mouth shut little bird?” Ghost asks, arms crossing over his chest as he stares you down.

“I do have a radio that connects me to the closest ranger station. And another for the Police station in the little town 3 hours north.” You admit, and you see his eyes flash, but you hold up your hand before he speaks.

“No. You aren’t taking it.” You snap, and his eyes narrow, exhaling sharply.

“If they don’t hear from me periodically they get worried. It’s a small town, everyone knows one another and I do have to take trips to the store every month or so.” You don’t back down from his dark gaze, but your palms feel clammy.

“They ever check up on you unannounced?” Price is last to arrive, voice stern as he levels the same cold glare as Ghost and you swallow, standing straighter, Gaz and Soap looking between the three of you nervously.

“Not unless I ask them to or I haven’t called in a few weeks. Takes too long to get out here.” Your voice shakes towards the end, slipping between the two looming men.

“You’re all here, you can start talking anytime.” You quip, and Ghost scoffs. “Got a mouth on you don’t-“

“You are asking to stay in my home. Watch it.”

He snaps his mouth shut, glaring at you and you turn your back to him. Price clears his throat, his gaze heavy on your back as you turn on the stove.

“Listen. There has to be some type of trust for this to even begin to work. You haven’t hurt me, and besides that oaf holding a knife to my throat,” You and Simon glare at one another, but he breaks first, eyes crinkling in the corners. “You’re a feisty little thing.” He laughs, crossing the kitchen to plop down at the kitchen table like he owns it.

“Besides that, you haven’t given me any reason you’re here to harm me or rob me, considering you have no car. You could easily overpower me and keep me locked in one of my own rooms and you haven’t. That’s a good start.” You finish, hands shaking slightly as you start to make your tea, and Price gently takes the kettle from your hands.

“But you’re still scared.” He states, and your shoulders stiffen. “Four men are in my kitchen asking to hide from the police. I’ve only put together who is who with your little code names by listening to you talk to one another. I’m sorry for being a little frightened.” You spit, jumping when you feel his large hand on your hip.

“Oh if you don’t quit that-“

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you pretty.”

“Okay! I think we all need to take a minute, yeah?” Gaz announces, him and Soap staring at the three of you nervously. You pry Price’s hand off your hip, again, pushing him away.

“Start talking, now. Before I let Soap and Gaz stay here and let the two of you rot outside.” You huff, taking a seat at the table and they seem surprised.

“I told you, I put together who is who, and those two,” You point, glaring at Price and Ghost as you speak. “Have been very respectful and kind.”

The two of them perk up, lapping up the small praise like thirsty dogs as their chests puff out.

Price frowns, keeping eye contact with you as he slips into the chair opposite of you. “We’ll behave.” He mutters, cutting a look at Ghost when he makes an offended noise in the back of his throat.

“We’re sorry. We didn’t mean any of the harm or fear we have caused you, really thought this place was abandoned. The boys and I appreciate you hearing us out when you have absolutely no reason to. And I… apologize.” He clears his throat, casting you a glance over before meeting your eyes once more.

“Haven’t been around such a gorgeous little thing like yourself in a long time. Forgot my manners.” He grins now, causing heat to bloom in your chest and you splutter, narrowing your eyes at him as you fight the heart crawling up your neck.

“Story. Now.”

“Oh come on pretty, am I at least forgiven?” He asks, and you know he’d deny that he’s pouting, but it still makes a small smile tug your lips.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“I could sweet talk you some more.”

“Much more interested in why you were in prison.”

Price sighs, but there’s a smile on his face as he relaxes in his chair.

“Better settle in. It’s a bit of a tale.” He crosses his arms, settling back.

“I’ve got all night.” You shoot back, resting your chin on your hand as you get comfortable.

What have you gotten yourself into?

[nuperflore]

I was debating on making a second part to this but I think now is a good time.

As you fell to your knees, barely on the brink of consciousness, the loss of blood rushed out of you and leaving your nerves to give out. Hands pathetically on your wound as if it could stop the flow. For you final vision - what of left you can see are blurry sights of the family you've grown to forever resent reaching Damian first before giving an afterthought to your dying body.

You wish you could've seen their faces when their gaze directed to your form but alas only the blur overcomes your sight. Leaving the last chuckle out of your as blood splurts out of your mouth, you've taken your last laugh.

Oh but the family couldn't handle it. Only after your death had they taken to initiative to even feel the guilt rising. The audacity of they who should've known better.

Dick 'Richard' Grayson, The Eldest of The Bunch. Stared in horror at your slumped body, his own frozen and hesitant even if he has seen bodies before - this time it's different. It's You who's dying or worse yet — dying. His sibling that he's not even worthy of calling them that, has died. His thoughts snapped out of it after dismantling the weapon away from Damian with others and immediately came rushing next to your lifeless body. Water dripped down on you, has he been crying? How could he not have noticed like how could he have not noticed you all along?

Jason Todd, The Second and The One Death Once Claimed. He was approachable at first, violent yet sweet and trusting. Those eyes that used to look at You with endearment then icy now looks at you with grief. He oh so badly wanted to claw at the floor but he can't move. Even when you've fallen limp and everyone else rushed to you side, he took a step back. He may be strong once but now he's weak.

Tim Drake, The Third Of Them Who's An Exhausted Genius. This is not part of expected variables that could happen. Pathetic isn't he? Still thinking of You as aere problem. He begs over and over that maybe it didn't hit anything vital but when you've fallen and blood continues gushing, he could only stare. When Dick rushed over, he follows with a slight trip because what else can he do? He's a genius yes but he doesn't - can't bring you back alive.

Damian Thomas Wayne, The Violent Youngest Raised By The Strongest. He stumbles. He is acting strange. How unlike his nature but he trip backwards, still holding onto the bloody weapon that has graced upon You. When he reluctantly glanced at his weapon, immediately it was dropped as if it was on fire. Weapon out of his hands by forced from others. Why is he acting Ike this? He should be proud, he should be happy but this? This feeling? It's a feeling that he wants to desperately scratch off his skin as it is beneath it.

Finally, Bruce Thomas Wayne. The One Who Hovers Over Them All. He failed. He wouldn't expected this. You weren't supposed to be in front of him bleeding. It was as if you two were the only ones in the dark and he wouldn't even as much as reach a hand out hesitantly. He's not worthy of taking care of you and it was proven to him with blood splatters on the silver tray. Out of everyone in this family he had created, little old you was someone he should've keep a closer on. A lot of his thoughts gone haywire and doubts use to crawl up his shoulder when he saw you to the point his reasoning has long gone past within reason.

Now the family had truly destroyed what's left of you they've known alive.

Now the family has directed their thoughts and eyes on you.

Now even in death, they know to not truly let you go for they have to try for another chance.

[satoruxx]

you fiddle with your nails as you walk home at tooru's side, the sounds of mattsun, makki, and iwa bickering further up ahead cutting through the empty streets. you’re uncharacteristically nervous, because god knows you’ve never done something like this before—but you steel yourself because it’s worth it for him.

your feelings for oikawa tooru are all consuming—strong and deep and intense. they’ve been brewing for well over two years now, nourished by the increased amount of time you’ve spent with him. they overwhelm you, washing over your being with an intensity you’ve never felt before, and they drive you to stick by his side for as long as you can—desperate and aching for the boy who puts the stars in your sky.

you know that timing is important because tooru is nothing if not driven—singularly focused on the sport that gives him the air he needs to breathe. so you wait until well after his match with karasuno, giving your all to support him and the rest of the team because volleyball has become important to you after spending so much time with them. you give it time, wait until after the team has taken the time to lament over their missed chance, and after all the third years are ready to move on to the next phase of their lives, before you finally decide to spill your guts to him.

tooru stares ahead as he’s walking, pensive and unsmiling, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. his eyes are bright, a contrast to his expression, and there’s a resolute glint in his irises that has you feeling oddly shaken. when you reach his house, the rest of the group waves back at him before continuing on, and you realize this is your chance.

so, dangerously, you put your heart on the line.

you tell him everything you've ever thought about him—how you admire his drive and his passion, how you have looked up to him for years and years. how you have never felt so deeply for someone before knowing him. it comes out in a rushed ramble of words, all those nights of practicing in the mirror doing nothing for you in the actual moment. you stumble a few times, your face getting warmer with every word, and yet as each sentence falls forth you feel a weight lift from your shoulders—the flesh of your lungs clatter against your ribs, anxious and eager.

tooru inhales, gaze darting between your eyes and then flitting downwards. even in the dark of the night, you can see the pinkish hue crawling up his neck, can see the way he fidgets with his own fingers. he stares at you, lips parted as a wide array of emotions flit over his handsome features—they finally settle into a strange combination of apologetic and resigned.

and then he tells you no.

he tells you that volleyball will always take precedence, that he has already mapped out his future, which is too far away from you. he tells you about argentina and how his mind is made up. he tells you that he's flattered, that he's glad you're friends but that's all he can do right now.

“i'm sorry,” he says with a grimace. he studiously avoids looking at you, but you can't stop staring at him—your stomach sinks as he turns to head inside.

it takes you months to muster up the courage to tell him. it takes him two minutes to say no to you.

the rejection stings in a way that is unfamiliar, and you take a shaky breath as you walk down the street to catch up with the others.

the humiliation makes itself known in the form of a painful lump in your throat—unmoving and heavy. when you glance up you see that the third years have hung back, waiting for you. makki is wearing a knowing grin, but it falters when he sees your expression. mattsun, ever observant, seems to immediately understand, and he wordlessly slings an arm over your shoulder.

all you can do is awkwardly chuckle, knowing that it sounds weak and throaty as you shake your head. “i feel stupid,” you admit, voice wobbling as heat burns through your skin—unpleasant and unwelcome.

“you're not stupid,” makki mutters, hands shoved deep in his pockets as his lips slant regretfully. you stare at the ground, nodding slowly under the weight of mattsun's arm. your lungs ache, and you know that if you open your mouth, you will lose it entirely. so all you can manage to do is look up at iwa with glassy eyes and trembling lips and a rueful smile that probably makes you look as pathetic as you feel.

you don't notice the way his fists are clenched at his sides, nails digging indents into his palms. he grits his teeth, gaze flitting to oikawa's house in the background, but he doesn't say anything.

none of them speak as they walk you home, and you try your best to keep the sniffles to a minimum, too embarrassed to look at them.

you've never felt pain like this before, and it's hard to get over it because everything reminds you of tooru. it's like someone has taken a knife and carved into your ribcage, grasping your heart before taking it out crushing it between bloodied fingers. but even despite the gaping hole in your chest you know that there are expectations to be met, things to be done.

that's the strange thing about your silly unrequited love—it hurts and hurts and hurts some more until it stops one day before you can realize it. even though your chest is still bleeding you go on with life—you go to university, you get a job, you pay bills. you get up in the morning and brush your hair and drink water and tie your shoes until the wound closes itself up. you start smiling a little wider and laughing a little freer until oikawa tooru is nothing more than an old name.

and of course there are instances where you are reminded of him and what could've been, whether it's seeing milk bread in a supermarket or passing by children hitting a volleyball over a net out in the sun. you know very well that your friends are occasionally still in contact with their old captain, not that this bothers you. after all, mattsun, makki, and iwa were very careful not to bring him up around you, which you're grateful for. so even hearing the name in passing becomes easier.

it is difficult until it isn't anymore.

you've all but forgotten him now, after years and years and years—nothing more than a distant memory.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread pooling in your stomach when you walk into the restaurant on makki's birthday and see oikawa tooru sitting at the bar, drink in hand. his eyes are alight as he laughs at whatever conversation he's joined, dark hair falling into his eyes messily.

one step forward, ten steps back.

for a second you can't help but stare, breath stolen from your lungs because it feels like the knife is back and twisting itself into your flesh all over again. there is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating and overwhelming and jarring.

tooru lifts his glass to his lips, hiding his grin as his gaze lazily travels over the expanse of the room.

another surge of panic. the familiar sting of humiliation.

he pauses as he's about to take a sip, brown eyes widening when they land on you, and you see the sharp inhale he takes. his stare doesn't waver, too consumed by shock to look away.

and yet that's all you can do—tear your eyes away because you're different now and it's long gone and you know there is no point in going down that rabbit hole again.

it was a lifetime ago—it's done now.

but you will never know how long tooru thought of you after that night back in high school. you will never know that he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the way your face fell at his rejection. you will never know that he bit his tongue so hard it bled as he watched you walk away from him. you will never know that he spent countless nights in argentina wondering what you were up to and how you were. you will never know that sacrificing you for his beloved sport was the hardest thing he's ever done.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread tooru feels when he sees the way your eyes light up as you find your way over to iwa's side.

@teddybeartoji this is for you mickey ily hehehehehe