#this is like 7.6k of just....well Something Technically

[jockpoetry]

hi i drafted this one a little early and i'm too lazy to make another draft to post it when i meant to so enjoy

[oceansblvds]

not allowed — satoru gojo

pairing ; sensei!satoru gojo x student!reader

words ; 7.6k (my bad)

about ; you're given your first solo mission with your sensei gojo overlooking to make sure anything doesn't go wrong. both of you are aware that being borderline obsessed with the other is wrong, but who liked rules anyway?

warning(s) ; smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, age gap but both are consenting adults, gojo may be a little ooc but support my delusions anyway, my yapping, not edited, longing? i don't fucking know.

author's note ; okay okay hi! this is different from my normal content but i've been obsessed with jjk recently and i have gojo brainrot. so consider this my beginning of many fics to come. feel free to request!

YOU HADN’T EVER BEEN ON A MISSION ALONE WITH YOUR SENSEI BEFORE. It was . . . Odd. Typically, one of your other classmates would accompany you along with your Sensei in order to encourage similar teachings. Though this time it seemed as though this mission was something that was matched to you, up your sleeve given your technical curse usage, and it was to be something that you did with the guidance of Satoru Gojo, and he was only allowed to intervene if you were going to get severely harmed. The town that you were assigned to, with a cursed spirit seemingly murdering children who went out into the sea too late at night, was a sleepy little town. You were sure that this was the first time that they had ever experienced turmoil like this, and they were happy to allow you and your Sensei to ‘investigate’ the murders. As you parked the car in the parking lot, you looked around, seeing several townspeople watch as you stepped outside of the drivers side of the road, Satoru out on the passengers side, both dressed in dark black clothing. He had made a joke about how he didn’t trust you driving at all, yet insisted that he wasn’t the one to get you two down there. 

I don’t drive myself places. 

Yeah, well, then he would put up with your driving after all. 

“I can feel your apprehension,” Your Sensei told you, walking in front of you up the stone stairs that came up to the front door of the place you would be staying in with him. Behind you was nothing but your car in the empty lot, the people watching getting uninterested as Gojo pulled out a key and began fiddling with the lock. Damn thing looked as though it had rusted at least three times over. You couldn’t wait to hear him complain about how you two should’ve been granted luxury. You hadn’t even been inside yet and you were already thinking about what he was going to say. The town was so small that there weren’t any hotels, the nearest one over an hour away, meaning that you would have to live in one of these larger homes on the beach for the time being. There wasn’t to be any distractions either, it was supposed to be a pretty open and shut case. Find the curse, exorcize it. It wasn’t that high of a grade anyways, or so you were told by your overachieving Sensei. 

If only people  knew that it didn’t matter if there was no one other than your Sensei to engage with, because Satoru Gojo, alone, was able to distract you for hours on end if you really put your mind to it. Satoru and you were very similar in age, early adult years, and yet he had the role of Sensei and you were still just a Student. You knew that it was because of his efforts of expelling Suguru Geto from the plane of existence, and that alone was enough to grant him the title of Special Grade Sorcerer, but it still was awkward at points when he talked down on you, because really, he had only four years more experience in life than you did.

You did what you were told. You always did. As a younger student you had a temper, a rebellious streak that for a time was almost concerning for the Jujutsu community that taught you. And yet, here you were, a respectful young sorcerer. Over the years you have grown, probably more than any other student that the community had seen, or at least, since your Sensei himself. It was like overnight somehow you turned from a child to a young woman, and you were adamant about completing your studies so that you could become a Special Grade. Those plans, however, were way easier said than done. You still had to work very hard to even get to the level of Gojo’s left hand in terms of strength and ability. But oh did you want it. You wanted all that power, and that was probably why he was so keen on teaching you, why he brought you on this mission in the first place. 

You were just like him, in a lot of ways. 

Satoru was not entirely a man of secrets. You could ask him things about almost anything and he would tell you. The only thing that he kept guarded in the deepest parts of his mind was things of his past, and his reasoning behind making such vast decisions like he oh so loved to do. But you and Satoru still managed to be very close, the cursed energy growing strong between both of you as if it too agreed in your compatibility.

You shook your head, immediately refuting his accusations. “No, it’s not apprehension,” you told him, eyes coming up to meet the back of his head since he wasn’t looking at you. “Just concern, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Your Sensei questioned. The second that his foot came up to the top of the stairs, his figure turned around and faced you, those bold, blue eyes from under his black mask looking at you even if you couldn’t see it, you could definitely feel them there. “If you have any doubts about anything, tell me, I am your Sensei after all.” He loved calling himself that. 

That’s exactly that problem, you thought to yourself, making sure that your mental shields were up to guard it so that it wasn’t written all over your face. That was the last thing that you needed, for him to know the things that you wished to push down into the darkest depths of your mind. The thought of simply just being with him here alone made your brain almost electrify yourself, thinking about all the possibilities of slipping up and revealing all your emotions towards your Sensei directly to him. It was something to fear, and yet you were not allowed to fear, you couldn’t fear someone like him who was supposed to teach her. 

You offered him the fakest smile that you could muster, saying, “Yes, I’m alright. Let’s just get inside, it’s almost dark.” The setting sun was directly to your back, illuminating him in front of you like he was something to be marveled at. And to your defense, Satoru Gojo was definitely something to be marveled at. His chiseled cheeks only looked more distinguished in the golden light, along with his silver-esque blonde hair that seemed to catch it just right. It made you feel weak in the knees, these thoughts of him, and you knew it was wrong to think of him in such ways - but you just couldn’t stop. Every time you tried to vilify him in your mind, another reason why you should love popped right back up in its place. It was a deadly cycle that you have shamelessly fallen victim to, and there was nothing that you could do to stop it or further this attraction. It was forbidden. He was your teacher.

The moment that you stepped into the building, a sigh left your lips, eyes taking in all your surroundings. It was marvelous. There were marbled stone floors that were covered in rugs in some places, plush couches in the middle of the room, and off to the side were the counters of the kitchen, all looking as if no one had ever stepped foot in here. Suddenly you felt out of place here, like you weren’t good enough to live in such a lavish way. After all, your dorm room at the school was nothing compared to this. They were bland, sandy and brown colors everywhere. Only a dresser with a small mirror and a bed were in it. Yet here, there were different hues of reds, greens, and blues, tables and chairs and fancy lamps, and plants that added almost another dimension to the already breathtaking house.

“It’s - It’s,” You started, not able to find the correct words for what you were trying to say.

Luckily, Gojo finished your sentence, “Breathtaking. It’s breathtaking.”

You turned to look back at him, taking in his features for just a moment more.

Breathtaking, you thought to yourself. Yes, everything here is just breathtaking.

-

The soft silks of your bed sheets rolled between your fingers, tempting you to lay into bed and never get back up. How on Earth were you supposed to find this curse when you were living like this? You could imagine yourself, not as a sorcerer but as a normal person, eating wild berries as you sat on your bed near the balcony, looking towards the horizon and not having one single worry in that head of yours. It was tantalizing, the perfect picture in your mind of what you wished to be.

“Why do you have that dumbfounded look on your face?”

You spun around to only be met with Satoru, who was leaning against your doorframe effortlessly. Has he always been that tall? A heat rose up to your cheeks, realizing that you hadn’t been taking the proper precautions of keeping those thoughts only to yourself, it was written all over your face. They were just little flings of ideas, nothing too brash that could get you into any trouble. “I shouldn’t have been thinking of slacking off when we have work to do in the coming days.”

A chuckle escaped his lips from deep within his chest. “It’s okay, Y/N, really, if I am being honest, I was thinking the same not too long ago.”

That was shocking news to you. You always thought that Gojo always wanted to be on the run, as if this trip that he had to take with you was annoying to him because he had to take time away from much more special missions that he would get to be the leader of. But it also made sense, even victorious Special Grade Sorcerers get tired sooner or later. Perhaps you didn’t know him as much as you thought that you did. This trip wasn’t just for you, it was for the both of you. It was good to go back to basics, even for someone as powerful as him. 

“And here I was thinking that you didn’t want to be here,” You mused.

Satoru laughed at your jest. “No, quite the opposite. It’ll be nice to take a step back from life for a little bit and get to watch you do all the work.”

“I didn’t know that Satoru Gojo knew what rest meant,” You continued on with your playful banter.

“I don’t,” He chuckled. “Maybe you can teach me?”

Now that sends you through a loop. You knew that he was probably just playing around with you, since you were teasing him a little bit. But that sentence was enough for that place in your mind to unlock all the fantasies you had in your head about him, the ones that you only dared touch when you knew you were alone and it was the dead of night. You held yourself back from becoming flustered, knowing the moment you showed any signs of it that he would know that something was up. Instead you simply nodded your head, taking your eyes off of him to the balcony that was open to your room, seeing the way that the moonlight illuminated the waves of the water. “Perhaps after investigating tomorrow, we could go by the water?” You asked him.

“Sure thing,” Satoru said, turning on his heel and making his way out of your room. You took a sigh of relief at his absence, not because you wanted him gone, but because seeing him in such a leisurely setting was starting to get to your head. That dizzy feeling that got to your head every time you looked at him for too long started to subside, and you were left with only your thoughts as you put away some clothes you packed for the stay.

The moment that your head hit the soft, plush pillow of your large bed, you were completely enveloped by sleep. In your dreams you only saw you and Satoru, happy and smiling in the gracious flower fields you had passed on the way here, preparing meals together half dressed in the kitchen, and falling asleep in each other’s arms. It was so real and lifelike that when you woke up in the morning, you felt as if you had awoken from an alternate universe.

-

Satoru didn’t know what he was doing.

Of course he was excited to be able to take a break from the long days of having to deal with the stupid fucking orderlies at the school, but at the same time he knew that being alone with you was going to be a struggle for him. Gojo loved to train you, he really did. You were a loyal student and was eager to learn from his instruction. He knew the moment that he saw you that he wanted to train you. But he hadn’t prepared for him to become so emotionally attached to you, and it was tearing the young teacher apart. 

It was incredibly taboo of him to gain these feelings for two reasons. One: he should really learn to teach other people so that he wasn’t spending all his time giving all of his ‘wisdom’ (as he liked to call it) to you. Two: you were his student. It may have been different if you were within the same ranks as him, but you were not. He was supposed to be your teacher, and there was no way that he would take advantage of his position of power over you if you were not willing.

He, too, was having doubts about this mission. Satoru almost asked Nanami if he would accompany the two of you for as long as it took, but there was too much going on for him to take any time off from his job, and Satoru was sure that it was just an excuse so that he didn’t have to tolerate him more than necessary anyways. So it was just you and him, alone in this house in this beautiful town.

The next day rolled along and you two had spent most of it investigating, talking to locals, etc. It was incredibly boring for him, though part of him felt incredibly proud that you were able to do everything on your own without any hiccup. You two had devised a plan for tomorrow to go after the curse directly from the source: a small cove near some cliffs by the beach. You would go at night and hopefully be able to catch it before it brought in any more deaths into the waves. 

He was so engrossed in his own head that he didn’t even realize you had walked up to him. 

“You promised we could go to the water afterwards,” You told him, hoping that you were jogging his memory from last night.

But you didn’t need to jog Satoru’s memory, because he had been thinking about it ever since you asked. Thinking about having to watch you submerge under the water and come back up, drops of clear blue dripping down your exposed shoulders, and keeping himself from doing something that he would most likely regret when you would reject him, scolding him for his thinking. He thought about the way he wanted to put his hands on your hips and pull you as close as you possibly could get to him, taking the opportunity to pepper kisses along your smooth skin. It killed him to think that you probably didn’t think the same way about him, it was going to goddamn tear him apart.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to go back on his promise to you. It was the least he could do after thinking such sinful things about you. Gojo gave you a nod and walked beside you on the short trail to the ocean from the house you were staying at. You could hear the water ripple towards the small shoreline, coming up and then receding back again in a timely fashion. You kicked off your shoes, deciding that your tank top and pants were okay to get wet, especially since you wouldn’t take the risk of undressing in front of Satoru. As much as the thought was tempting, you knew better than to test your luck. He watched with intensity as you got into the water, going deep enough to where only the tops of your shoulders and up were exposed. Fuck, he cursed himself, did you have to look so good barely doing anything?

You cocked your head to the side. “Well … are you going to get in or just stare at me?” You asked, immediately submerging yourself under the water to ignore what he had to say about your teasing. Your heart thumped profusely as you sat there under the water holding your breath. Satoru had been looking at you.

He mentally cursed himself once again, taking his shoes off and following you into the water. It did feel good, the water having an almost calming effect over him as he walked deeper in the lake. He looked around him, taking in the appearance of all the beautiful trees that lined up, beautiful fruit hanging off of the branches. Little flowers were along the bay, facing right towards him as if they were welcoming him to their home.

The sun spilled harsh rays along his skin, causing Gojo to dip his head down fully into the water. Once he came back up for air, his eyes shifted over to you, both of you holding a type of eye contact that you swore almost knocked your breath out. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, like he was looking right into your soul and you to his, a sense of desire burning a pit in your stomach. Feeling exposed, you shifted your gaze to the fish swimming in the water near you. You could still feel his eyes on you, in them holding truths that he wished to tell you, but being unable to put the words together to explain.

-

“There’s something that you’re not telling me.”

Your eyes opened at your Sensei’s voice and looked directly at him. You had been simply laying on your bed before sleeping, on your phone, trying to distract yourself with something dumb online before being able to sleep. You had only just closed your eyes as he walked in. At school they usually kept you on some kind of schedule, though here with Satoru, rules were a little - no, more loose than normal.

He once again stood in your doorframe, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed in, like he didn’t feel like he had a place stepping into your bedroom. You searched his face to gauge a feeling for what he was talking about, looking for hints of mischief or anger. There was nothing, his face was completely blank, almost too blank like he was hiding something from you.

You knew you had nothing to hide — or at least nothing that he should know about. “I don’t know what you mean,” You replied, uncrossing your legs from their criss cross position and hugging them close to your chest. “Have I done something wrong?”

That answer seemed to not satisfy him, because for a moment something flickered in his eyes. “No, nothing like that,” He told you, furrowing his brows together under the mask and taking a tentative step closer into your room. “It’s just, I get this feeling when I’m around you. Like something is just gnawing at you and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Oh, you were screwed. Alarms blared in your mind, thinking about how you had let your thoughts run too much during this trip. All the worst outcomes of this came to your mind, like how he would laugh at your growing feelings towards him, how much you wanted him almost shamelessly. It made your stomach twist into several knots, wanting to bury yourself into a hole and never ever come out of it again.

Your face must’ve told it all, because he spoke again, saying, “There. Right there. I can feel it, Y/N. Just talk to me. What is going on?” Your bottom lip quivered, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this. This was it. The day you had been dreading and hoping didn’t come. Everything was about to come crash down onto your life.

“I can’t,” You said in a low voice, shifting your weight to sit at the edge of the bed, putting your head into your hands and staring down at the plush carpet in an attempt to get away from his stare. Almost as if you thought if you looked away long enough, he would suddenly disappear.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t’? You’re my student, you can tell me anything.”

Student. The title felt foreign in your mind now. It was something that you knew you couldn’t hold onto for much longer once the truth was out. You would be stripped of it and be a sorcerer no more. The school would hear of your feelings and immediately expel you. Student. Student. Student. The more the word bounced around in your mind the more you felt tears welling up into your eyes.

And you didn’t mean to sound so harsh when you said it, but your hands were balling up into fists as you said, “That’s what’s wrong!” Your head tilted up, seeing that Satoru had walked closer to you, towering over your frame. His face showed confusion, not understanding what you were alluding to. He didn’t even have to say it, but his expression was saying explain.

How could you even begin?

You were wordless.

“Please . .  . I just want to help you,” Gojo told you, his hand coming to grab onto your forearm. The touch felt like hot coals on your body, scorching your soul. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” Which you knew translated to I don’t like not knowing how to fix it.

“It’s you,” You confessed. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

For a moment, Satoru thought that he had stepped into some parallel universe. Or that this was some sort of prank let on by someone else. There was no way that this was happening, you were confessing. You had been thinking about him, probably as much as he was thinking about you. It felt as if the world had turned on its axis and was spinning the opposite direction.

You, on the other hand, were waiting for the words that never came. You expected him to immediately tell you that he was going to report you to . . . oh you didn’t even know. And yet, he stood there, almost looking as dumbfounded as you did, maybe even more. This prompted you to stand up, his hand falling down and getting dangerously close to your own.

“I know …” You started again, seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything. “I know that it’s wrong, that I shouldn’t be thinking of you in the ways that I am. But I can’t stop, Satoru, you consume me.”

The usage of his name snapped him back to reality and out of his own spinning thoughts, and hearing it come from specifically your lips was not helping his frame of mind. It sounded … different coming from your mouth. Like you were saying it like a praise rather than just a passing phrase like most people did. He wanted you to say it over and over again, repeating it like a mantra you were to speak or you would die if you didn’t. His eyes flickered into your own and saw how scared you were of how he would react and how he was definitely not helping to settle your nerves.

In truth, he didn’t know how to handle this situation. After all, this was not a lesson that had been given to him and he was definitely not in the best place to tell you anything, since his emotions were starting to cloud his judgment and all he could think was how he wished to tell you he felt the same way.

You waited for his response, getting impatient and wanting to just get this over with. You were waiting for the words he was supposed to say.

But Satoru didn’t always do the things he was supposed to do, in fact, he almost never did the things that he was supposed to. So why would he think to start now?

“You and I both know that this isn’t allowed,” Satoru said. “And yet I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”

A visible look of shock washed over your face, mouth opening slightly and eyes widening, heart pounding against your ribcage. His hand reached down and grabbed your own, fingertips softly touching the palm of your hand. This felt like a dream. Were you sure that you weren’t dreaming? No, this was definitely real. Satoru was in front of you for sure, confessing that he was feeling the exact same way.

Satoru tipped his head down to meet your own, his breath fanning along your face, making you shiver. Your breath hitched in your throat, his lips brushing against your own, almost like he was testing you. You could feel the tips of his hair tickling against your forehead, nose against nose. You were so close. The hand on your own was grasping now, pulling your body close to his. And the two of you sat there, lips millimeters close while each of your minds buzzed with the feeling of doing something so daring.

You felt yourself going mad, you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t wait. All of your feelings erupted inside of your throat and suddenly you were kissing him, lips smashing against his own with no care in the world. You didn’t care about the ramifications, the school … anything. All you cared about was Gojo, wanting as much of him that he was willing to give you.

You had never really kissed anyone before. There was a moment back when you were only ten and you were with another student, seeing one of the citizens of Tokyo kissing each other on the street. Interested in what they were doing, you and your friend kissed, thinking that it was weird and dismissing it. That had been your first kiss, a rather embarrassing one, but it was nothing compared to the way Gojo kissed you. He kissed you like there was a purpose to every single move of his muscles. He kissed you like you were forbidden fruit and he was starving.

His other hand came up to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair and keeping your face close to his. For just a moment his tongue slipped into your mouth and you made a small sound, butterflies swarming in your stomach. You tried to mimic what he was doing, going with your instincts and grasping onto his bicep, feeling the taut muscles under your touch.

Everything about yours and his actions were needy and hungry, wanting each other with such need that you had pushed down for so long. All of it seemed to come out of you like crashing waves. The kissing was nice, though after a while you needed more, you were dying for more of him. Please, Satoru, you thought.

As if he could read your thoughts, he pulled away, a string of saliva the only thing connecting you two. “What do you want?” He whispered, tilting his head to the side and giving you one of those damn smirks of his. Of course he wanted you to say it. And you knew better than to not do what he wanted. 

“You, Satoru, I want you,” You whispered to him, as if someone was going to hear if you talked too loud. “Please.” You thought that you probably sounded like someone desperate, and in a way you were, you had waited for this forever and had convinced yourself that it would never happen. But he thought the exact opposite, he marveled in the way that you looked at him, wanting to show you how much you truly meant to him. The attraction and lust was there, intermingled with something more that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

He didn’t hesitate to give you what you wanted, slowly inching you towards the bed and helping you rest on your back, the silk sheets against the back of your arms and neck. Satoru was quick to follow, climbing on top of you and connecting his lips onto the skin right below your jaw. His lips were soft like snowflakes falling onto your skin, creating a masterpiece on your skin like you were his canvas. It all felt too good, the heightening the sensations to an almost unbearable amount. It sent shockwaves to your core, igniting a feeling you often only felt during the late hours of the night.

Seeing how well your body responded to him, well, almost drove Gojo crazy. You were so willing, so ready for him that his mind became cloudy, the only thing he could make out was his thoughts of you. His lips trailed down from your jaw to your neck, paying extra attention to the places that made you breathe out more than the others. He pressed a searing kiss to your pulse point, his teeth grazing the nerve and using his lips to suck a deep, purple mark into your skin. And then, when he felt it was the right time, he did it again and again, properly marking you as his. He didn’t care anymore. Your hands found their respective place in his hair, feeling the softness of the blond tufts between your fingers. It was so damn soft that you wondered how you had resisted the urge for so long before. 

Your clothes suddenly felt foreign on your body, you wanted them off, you wanted his off so that you could see all of him. He seemed to hear your thoughts, humming against your skin and pulling away, pressing a soft, firm kiss to your lips and helping you get out of them, and in turn you helped him get out of his.

Gojo’s body was like nothing you imagined. He was breathtaking. You knew that he had a nice body because of all the training and countless amounts of physical strain he has been through, but looking at those abs that he had, along with the sun kissed skin he had, you felt your throat close up, feeling inferior to what he looked like. “You’re beautiful, Y/N,” He said. “Don’t ever think that you’re not.” And you believed him.

His hands came to your hips, fingers toying with the fabric of your underwear that was the only thing blocking him from seeing you fully. His eyes scanned you, taking in the sheer and utter beauty before him. He wanted to kiss, lick, and nip on every single inch of skin on you. He wanted to learn each and every single curve, hear every story behind your scars, and know just what touches would have you squirming from underneath him. He wanted to know exactly where he had to kiss to get those sweet sounds out from you and he was sure that he could spend hours just doing that. 

No one has seen you this exposed before. You didn’t know whether or not to feel embarrassed, because he seemed to know what he was doing. You hadn’t felt the need to do anything like this with anyone else, not when you were too busy lusting over your teacher for so long. You didn’t want anyone to take that last bit of innocence from you except him, you were sure of it. And only now did you actually realize what was going to happen. Who was he to leave you pining and wanting, when you were basically offering your virginity up on a silver platter for him?

Your whole body felt hot, needing to feel the release that was beginning to build up from all of his kisses and your imagination running its course. “Satoru,” You breathed out, not knowing how to form into words what you wanted from him. Of course he knew, he could feel your hands pulling into his hair, all the while he began to whisper all the dirty little things that he wanted to do with you. How he wanted to keep you here all for himself, how he wanted to taste every single inch of you, and everything else that he could think about. After all, neither of you were hiding anything anymore. He knew exactly what he was going to do to you so that he could hear the plethora of moans that he knew you had just for him, wanting to hear his name come off of your lips in pleasure.

His head ducked down and kissed your hipbone, fingers hooking under your underwear and slowly sliding them off. Your eyes stayed on his actions, mouth forming into an ‘O’ when you realized what he was going to do. He was going to use his mouth on you. These were only things that you thought in your deepest, darkest fantasies, like he had reached into those parts of your mind and did exactly what you wanted.

As if Satoru was just tempting you, he pressed another slow kiss to the inside of your thigh and then did the same thing to the other side. Your hips lifted up only slightly, showing him that you couldn’t wait much longer. A chuckle left him, eyes reaching your own and saying, “Eager?” You weren’t even ashamed when you shook your head, keeping eye contact with him as he licked a bold stripe right up your slit. It felt as if an earthquake hit your body, your back arching and hands gripping onto his hair.

He hummed against you, liking the way that you responded to his actions. If he had it his way, he would sit here with you like this for hours on end, bringing you up to that high place again and again until you were a wrecked mess before him. It made him simply go crazy to think that he was the first person to ever do this to you, that he would be the first of anyone to hear those moans and profanities that slipped from your cherry kissed lips. Satoru’s own thoughts made him groan out, a noise that you played on repeat in your mind as your eyes screwed closed.

Your thighs quivered beside his face, attempting to squeeze shut so that you could keep him there forever. But his hands came and held them in place, fingers digging into your muscles that gave in to his touch like it was nothing. You were putty in his hands, the only movement you had was your hands pulling on his hair and the arch of your back while he lapped his tongue against you with no mercy.

“Stay still,” He told you, pulling away for a moment to lick what was left of you on his lips. You nodded, chest heaving and heart sinking at the loss of contact. But Satoru didn’t leave for long, his mouth on your clit accompanied with one of his fingers circling your entrance. You nearly lost it when he dipped his middle finger in experimentally, gauging your reaction. You could feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, which only amplified once his finger pushed into you all the way.

You didn’t even attempt to try and censor the obscenities that came out of your mouth, mixed in rhyme with his name. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. It was the only word that felt real in your mind.

You waited for that final jump towards a euphoric end, but it never came. Instead Satoru pulled away from you and his fingers left, making you feel uneasily empty. Opening your eyes, you saw that he was pulling down his boxers, taking his cock into his hands and watching as you almost became slack jawed - realizing what was about to happen. A moment of worry nestled its way into your mind, making your heart thump. If anyone was to find out, you would surely not be accepted back into the school. You would never be able to have Gojo again. It was your moment to choose. You knew that if you backed out, at least you would be able to work under him still and not have his affections. It would be better than never seeing him again. And yet, you couldn’t see your life without him, all of him. Not just the side that was your Sensei.

Satoru sensed your worry, taking your chin in his hands so that you looked up at him. “Are you sure?” He asked you, not wanting to move forward before you were ready. And God, were you ready. “Because once I start, I don’t think that I’m ever going to get enough of this pretty pussy.” 

And with all the courage that you mustered up, you gave him a small smile and said, “Yes.” You felt like you were flinging yourself off of some sort of cliff, or even more sinfully feeling like you were Persephone, cutting up her own slice of pomegranate and looking right into Hades eyes as she tasted the fruit, securing your fate that you would stay with him. You would stay with Satoru, even if it was only for this night.

He nestled between your legs and you could feel his tip press against your entrance. Air was caught in your lungs, sitting up on your elbows so that you could see as he eased himself into you. A sting of pain and a subtle feeling of pleasure was seated inside of you, watching as his cock was enveloped by you inch by inch. Satoru hissed at the feeling, you were so goddamn tight and he never wanted to stop from being inside of you. You looked down at where he was inside, thinking about how you could do this all day every day for the rest of your life. You now understood why this was so talked about, why your body craved it so much. Once all of him was inside, he leaned over so his head was in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss to your searing skin as you adjusted to him bottoming out.

You urged him to continue, thinking that the discomfort would soon go away with time. And you were eager to get all of him that you could, temptation coming forward instead of reason. He pulled out all the way then eased himself back in, continuing the slower pace and watching your reaction before him, your hands reaching to his back and finding their place there. One of his hands kept your legs open, taking you by your thigh and hoisting it up.

It took all that he could muster to not just ram into you, the want starting to cloud his judgment. The cursed energy between the two of you felt as if it was pushing both you and him towards each other, the connection almost driving each of you crazy. “You feel …” He started. “You feel so good.” That alone, along with the raspiness in his voice, made a fire erupt in your stomach. You sighed in response, eyes fluttering closed once again.

And then, much to his surprise, you whispered, “Go faster, Satoru.” You needed him so bad you felt like you were going to explode, lust enveloping the both of you and intertwining with your energies.

He didn’t need to be told twice, and he gripped onto the leg he lifted up, beginning a slightly faster rhythm that had you arching your neck and back, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Satoru was so big, stretching you out in just the right way that had you almost keeling over if he hadn’t had such a tight grip on you. Your one leg wrapped along his waist, heel digging into his back while his pace increased.

This angle he had you in made you yelp and moan shamelessly, not caring if people all the way in the capital could hear you as you yelled his name like a prayer. His pace finally became a fast rhythm and you found comfort in being able to finally feel nothing but pleasure with every deep stroke he made.

In this place, it was only you and him. Like you were in your own little place of paradise where you could explore each other in every way. There was nothing that could take this moment from you or him, this moment would forever be engraved in your mind for many years to come, remembering the way that he moaned out your name and the way he looked when you opened your eyes to peek at his face. His brows were furrowed, sweat beading on his forehead and mouth spilled open saying nothing but your name.

He made you feel so good, so euphoric that the fire grew and grew, becoming a wildfire raging inside of you. And you looked so heavenly to him, the way that your eyes only looked at him, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust he gave you. You took him so well, like you were made for only him. His hips brushed against your own, hand coming up to caress your cheek, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “I want to see you look at me when I fuck you,” he whispered, a deep sense of posessiveness suddenly washing over him. 

You weren’t going to last much longer. Not with the way that he was pounding into you with sheer force you didn’t know was possible until now. But you didn’t want this to end, you never wanted this to end in fear that things would go back to the way they were before. You would have to try and forget that this ever happened. It wasn’t something you wanted to do and didn’t even know if you had the strength to do it. After this moment both of you would be connected.

You made a guttural noise, teetering over the edge of what felt like a wave of bliss. This was it, there was no way that you could keep yourself from it now. It only took a singular deep stroke of his cock to send you right over the edge, your back arching and body spasming, his name rolling off of your tongue in the most sinful way you have ever said it before. Your hands gripped for any part of him that you could reach, groping his muscles to keep him close to you. He didn’t stop moving inside of you, making you ride it out even harder as he chased his own high. 

“Yeah? You came all over my cock like a good student, didn’t you?” 

You could only whimper in response. 

You were so sensitive as he fucked into you, giving you no mercy. He groaned as you came, watching the way that your eyes screwed shut and mouth opening in as you sucked in harsh breaths. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you and you knew that he was close, wondering if he was going to cum inside of you or pull out before he did. He did the latter, taking one more deep stroke before pulling out. Satoru was about to start stroking himself with his hand but you rushed with your own to meet him there, using your own and pumping a few times.

A string of profanities came from his lips as he came, white hot liquid spurting onto your stomach, dripping like beads coating your skin. He had no shame as he shuddered, muscles flexing with every passing second. He drank in your body, seeing how wet you were for him, how soft your hand was on his cock, how much he longed to see you like this more times before you and him left. And soon enough he was finished, the only thing between both of you was both of your panting breaths.

Satoru moved to grab something on the floor, realizing that it was the shirt he had on before and moving to wipe your stomach off, dropping it to the floor and coming to lay down next to you. You winced for a moment as you moved to look at him, his own eyes staring at the ceiling. You were scared of what was to come next, if there was anything that was supposed to come next. You knew that the two of you couldn’t be together, at least openly, though it was even risky to continue doing something like this in private.

“Satoru,” You called out to him, forcing him to look at you. “What will happen next?”

“I don’t know, Y/N, I don’t know,” He responded. All he knew was that he wanted you, again and again. In the domestic moments and in the explicit ones like before. You were so tantalizing, and he realized now that because he had tasted the forbidden fruit that was you, he would never be able to stop. There was simply no way that he would be able to conceal his want for you from you anymore.

You waited for his answer, knowing that it would probably be one you didn’t want to hear. But for the second time this evening, Satoru surprised you again.

He leaned over and kissed you.

And you knew his answer from that.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"The Test." Part One. Sugar Daddy AU. Poly!Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Sugar Baby Reader.

Okay! OKAY! SO! Do you all remember this, from Kinky/Do-Over-December back in the day? A Stu Macher sugar daddy AU I was fucking around with? This is set in that AU again, in said fic, I mentioned a little beach house weekend getaway with some breaking and entering Ghostface role play, this? Is that! Fully realized, or at least, partially realized for now. This thing is long, I have been working on it on and off for over a fucking YEAR! I started it shortly after I met Matt and Skeet last summer at fan expo, (can you guess why I was feeling inspired?) So because this is so long, (12.6K as of right now) I figured, why not break it up into two parts? And if you guys like it a lot, I might do some more! This is meant to be a three day weekend and this thing when it is done will be just the first night technically, so hit me up and let me know what you think!

PART TWO NOW HERE!

---

Rating. Explict. Length. 7.6K. Billy Loomis/Stu Mach/Sugar Baby FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Age Gap. Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. Sex Work Is Real Work. We Respect Sex Work. Talk Of Sex. Vaginal Fingering. Talk Of Threesome. Extreme Role Play. Mask Kink. Breaking And Entering. Masturbation. Chase. Predetor/Prey. Stalking. Voyeurism. Restrained Reader. Knife Kink. Dirty Talk. Threatening And Possessive Behavior.

---

Initially, it wasn’t something you put much stock into. I mean, it was one of those things that sounded too good to be true, you make a profile, you meet up with men, if you click, and they like you, they pay you to spend time with you. They take you out on dates, and buy you things and sure, they fuck you, but still you could do that? Get paid money to be good company, attractive and a great sexual partner? You think you could at least attempt it. So you figured why not, after some serious online research and looking into other people who had been successful at sugaring you decided to give it a go. You find one of these sites, you spend a good two days on your profile before it goes live and then, you wait. 

When you got your first message, it was honestly pretty exciting, even though you never ended up meeting with said first person, it got you more sure about the process. After some more interest, you end up starting it in earnest. 

You meet up in a public location, the first meeting is always feeling each other out, the next one, if there is one, is getting to know each other better, and then the next is talking about expectations on both sides. You have some real duds here and there, but over time you cultivate some good and regular clients, you make friends on your sites of choice as well as while working, a lot of the guys who look for girls like you tend to keep similar company. Regularly you go to parties or work events or the like and come across another girl just like you and begin to form relationships with them, some becoming good friends because they got it, understood what you went through because they were in it themselves. 

The guys you saw were overall good, you didn’t even have a sexual relationship with all of them, not everyone who seeks out girls in your line of work even want that, a lot just want company, to be heard, or to have someone to show off, and you made for very good arm candy.

You’d been doing good, barely had to do any regular work, still had a part-time job, but most of your lifestyle was paid for by the guys who you saw and entertained and the quality of your life had improved massively at that. You had experience and a good reputation, so when a regular client dropped off, as they sometimes do, he moved too far to be able to continue to see you as he liked, you needed someone to fill the gap. In no particular rush, still fairly comfortable, you were able to be picky about who you accepted into your life. When you got the message from him, it wasn’t this huge defining moment, it was plain and perfectly average, but aren’t most things that end up being fantastic? 

After some regular chatting back and forth together, you and he agree to a meeting, lunch out at one of your favourite spots for testing out a new potential client. 

To say that your life totally changed after that lunch would be incorrect. It was more of a slow burn. Stu Macher was significantly older than you, attractive, had some job pertaining to finance, runs in the family apparently, and had money to toss around. You are not the first girl he’d had in an arrangement like this but, he told you, he has some particular qualities he is looking for in a long term set up. He was up front and honest, he wanted to see you more, he liked you, thought you and he got along well, and you thought the same, but he wanted to test you out. 

“Test me out how?” You asked, and he said, “Like we see each other for a few months and see how it goes, if this can be what I’ve been looking for.”

Interesting. You appreciate his candour if nothing else, you can get behind someone who is explicit and clear about what they want, especially in this respect. “Can I ask what it is that you are looking for?” 

He has this smile that is dripping in undeniable charm before he speaks, “No need to rush, right? Let’s have some fun and not stress.” You assumed that is what will tell him if this, and by extension you, are “right.” 

You could do that, could be fun and easy and go with the flow. What did you have to lose?

Stu is a fun guy, he works hard and is desperate to have a good time and de-stress, you take that want seriously and he takes notice. You do all manner of things together, mostly he plans dates, but you suggest some once you get more comfortable, and he likes that, it not being all up to him, more of a joint effort after a certain point. You clean up amazingly well, he can bring you to any event he wants to, and you slot right in. As for the physical aspect, you didn’t rush into it, but once you got there, it was kind of hard to stop. It became a very frequent thing, you did not mind at all, especially because it led to a slow shift, Stu wanted you around more and more, other clients got in the way of that. 

It was the afternoon, you’d been with Stu since the previous evening, you were trying to leave because you had to go get ready for an event someone else was taking you out to, and he didn’t want you to go. You were sat on the edge of the bed, trying to get your boots on, getting the rest of your outfit back on thus far had been a total fight, he was currently holding you. Arms were loose around your neck as he was leaning into you, “Come on, stay. Let me take you out to that dinner spot you like, the one that we hit up last month, the rooftop place that does the pasta thing-” 

You cut him off with a grin and a laugh, “Stu, I can’t, I have to go. I’ve already stayed way later than I was supposed to but I gotta go home, shower, change…” His arms had slipped down, hands rest on your arms near your elbows, he was laying some kisses along your neck, and you let out a groan with a roll of your eyes, “Knock it off.” You try to let the smile drop off your face as you complain, but you fail.

“I don’t know why you have to go.” He sighed, sounded like he was pouting, his head leaning against yours, and you tell him as you zip up your left boot, “Because I have other people to see.”

“See, that is what I mean! I don't know why you have to see anyone else.” 

You shake his arms off of you and stand up, you turn to see him, sheets are pooled around his hips, and he is shirtless looking up at you. It is a sight that is all too welcome, one you seriously wish you didn’t have to leave. Instead of telling him that, you say, “They help pay for my life, this is my job.”

It is true. Stu had become such a regular that in combination with him and your other clients you were able to quit that shitty part-time job, able to do this full-time. The past couple of months with him were great, you felt good about shifting gears to doing this all the time, thankful he was able to help make it happen.

He looks thoughtful, something is weighing on him, it is as if you can see him turning over the thought on his mind and as you are collecting your bag and coat he says, “What if I gave you more money?”

“What?”

You glance at him over your shoulder, and he says with a shrug, effectively repeating himself, “What if I give you more money? Then you wouldn’t have to go, could stay here with me.” 

Your eyebrows raise as you deadpan, “Stu, please. Don’t joke about that.”

“Who says I’m joking? Does it look like I’m joking?” He asked, and you respond, “You are grinning like you do when you are joking.” 

“What can I say? I just look better with a smile on my face.” You had to agree, but you don’t verbalize it. He speaks again before you can, “I mean it, though. What if I give you more, then you can have more time for me.”

Was he for real? “It would take like a lot more.”

“I have a lot more to give.” He challenged. Searching his eyes, you could tell he meant it. You said, “I need time to think on it.”

His reply is immediate. “Why?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, you don’t want to offend but you and he could be open, honest, and you appreciated that about your set-up, so in the interest of continuing it, you told him, “Because like you said this is meant to be a more casual thing right? You are testing me out, I don’t wanna burn bridges with great clients I copped before you came into the picture if you are gonna leave soon. What am I supposed to do if you bail out?”

It’s tense for a moment. You are staring at him, and he is staring back. It was true, what were you meant to do if he leaves? You could seriously struggle until you build up a good clientele base again. 

“You trust me so much.” He teases, the tone is light and affectionate, and you let your shoulders fall back down, happy he didn’t take serious offence to what you said, “Stu, I do, but seriously, this isn’t a choice that can be made quickly, give me some time to really think on it?”  

“No, no, you’re right. You are just being careful, it’s smart, responsible. I respect you for it.” His smile drops, he says it earnestly, and you believe him as he adds, “Think it over.”

You walk to him, bag over your shoulder, coat folded over your arm, your hand comes out and cups the side of his face, you lean down and kiss him. You linger in it, he lets it be what it is, doesn’t take the opportunity to try and entice you back into his bed, even though if he tried hard enough, he probably could. 

Once you pull back, you tell him, “I will.” You leave him slowly, fingers caressing him, your thumb passing over his cheekbone as you go. “See you Stu.” 

You didn’t bring it up the next time you saw him and neither did he, you think he was waiting you out, seeing when you’d say something. You think about it the whole time, but you just aren’t sure if it is right. Things aren’t weird between you both, if anything, it gets even better and so you at last initiate the conversation, or rather, you are going to, but he starts a different one with you first. 

“Are you busy on Sunday morning?” It was Thursday, you were having lunch, you tell him honestly, “As of right now, no. Why?” 

“I was thinking we could go out to brunch. There’s someone I want to introduce you to.” 

He’d introduced you to lots of people, but usually it was when bumping into someone while out and about or at a party or some other thing he dragged you to. You had never been asked to some specific date to meet a particular person. You asked, “Oh, and who’s that?” 

You had heard a lot about Billy Loomis. Stu had told you a ton about him, shared old stories and made frequent mentions of the times they hung out over the past months you’ve been in Mr.Macher’s life, he even showed you some pictures. One evening a month into your arrangement, he showed you a picture from back when they were in high school. You take it from his fingers with a grin as you exclaim, “Oh my God! So you’ve just always been hot, huh?” 

You don’t comment on it at the time, but you thought his lifetime best friend who was sitting next to him on the fountain in the photograph was pretty hot too. When Stu posed the idea of you meeting him? You jumped at the opportunity, a passive thought at the back of your mind wondering if he aged as well as Stu had. 

It is quarter to eleven o’clock when you stride into the place with Stu. You have your hand on his arm, and you are caught up in something he is saying, looking up at him until you see his gaze catch something, original thought and sentence abandoned as his grin widens and calls out, “Hey man!” 

You follow where he is looking and eyes fall on who is unmistakably who you are here to see, yeah he was of course older than he was in the picture that you saw but no doubt it was him. He gets up as you both approach, a polite gesture and one that isn’t necessary, but the fact he did is telling, it resonates. You like that. 

He is also very obviously checking you out, you also like that. 

Seeing how Stu interacted with him first hand is a total treat. The greeting and how they touch shows a friendly familiarity, both leaning into the hug like it was the most natural thing either of them had ever done. You knew they were still in touch and spent time together regularly but witnessing it all in real time is a different story. They get along well, a clear history and investment between them both. He asked you questions and genuinely listened, seemed interested, he also responded to your questions too.

“When did you and Stu meet?” 

“He didn’t tell you?” He asked with a smile, and Stu cuts in, “She never asked!”

“What am I gonna do with you, man?” He sighs the sigh of the world-weary and put upon yet still with a smile on his face he next imparts, “Let me tell you how it happened since he apparently won’t.” 

They’d known each other since they were kids, well before high school, longer than you’d anticipated, lifetime best friends indeed. You thought it was nice, a friends forever kind of deal, the fact they’ve remained close so far into adulthood and still made time for each other was honestly kind of touching. The conversation even went into some stories of their friendship while they were growing up, excited recollections shared over crêpes, eggs benny, coffee and fresh fruit juice.

It was a good time, you were glad you agreed to come, and after you ate but before the check you excused yourself to the bathroom. 

As soon as you were out of earshot, Stu was staring at his friend as he asked, “Soooo?”

Billy looked away from your retreating form, and more in particular your ass, and instead back across the table to Stu, “Soooo what?”

He scoffs with a roll of his eyes, “So, what do you think of her?”

“Oh she’s great. I totally get what you mean when you’ve been talking about her, funny, cute, lively, a real good time.” He admits with a half shrug and Stu sighed, “But?”

It hangs for a moment before the response comes, “But I dunno if she is right for what we want to do.” 

“There it is, I fucking knew it!” A light hit of his hand on the table that made the dirty plates jostle slightly, a quiet rattle before he goes in on Billy. “Why isn’t she good enough?” Stu is leaning forward on his crossed arms as he presses, and Billy says, “It’s a serious thing, man, it isn’t for just anyone.”

“You think I don’t know that? I wouldn’t bring her if I didn’t think she was right. I’ve been seeing her for months and really, Billy, she is something else.” Stu insists, and Billy sighs, “So you keep saying.”

Lowering his voice next, he responds with,“You helped pick her out, remember? You liked her first, and I put in the effort to do this.” 

“Don’t act like it’s a chore, you and I both know you don’t hate the selection process or the ‘trying them out’ either. You’d be seeking out these kinds of arrangements even without my hand in it, this is just a bonus for us both, one that doesn’t need to be rushed into either.” Billy told him and Stu said, “I am not saying that at all, of course I like it dude, and I am not rushing this, I am just saying, what do we have to lose by trying this and by you trusting me?”

The small staring contest across the table lasts less than a tense silence filled minute before Billy speaks, seemingly surprised, “Shit, you really do think she’s right.”

“Duh, that’s what I’ve been saying. Listen to me, I’ve been careful, I’ve played, pushed the boundaries and I think she is the best we could ever hope for so.” The pause isn’t long, but it doesn’t need to be before the real question is posed. “Can I ask?” 

When you came back to the table, the brunch lasted less than twenty more minutes before the bill was paid and you and Stu parted ways from Billy. Warm goodbyes and waves, and promises to do this again sometime soon. 

Naturally, on the way back to his place he is asking what you thought of it all, and you admitted that you thought Billy was cool, enjoyed getting to know him and were looking forward to next time. That real question was asked with you spread out on his couch, him leaning over you, hand between your legs and two fingers curling just right inside you, his mouth lifts off your neck as he asks, “What are your feelings on the topic of threesomes?”

An indulgent smile crosses your face, a deep breath as you ask, “Was this what pushed you to introduce me to him today?”

Another flex of his fingers makes it hard to breathe normally, and he says, “Answer the question.” 

You nod shakily and tell him your stance on threesomes over the wet sound of his fingers working in and out of you, “Pro. Very, very pro.”

That answer was just what he wanted to hear, but it didn’t end there. “You’d be into it then, hm? You wanna fuck my best friend?” 

You were helpless to do anything else but moan your consent as you clenched around his fingers. “Yeah, you want it. Want to get split open from both ends, totally used.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact that you completely agreed with. You did. The more he talked about it, the better it sounded. More words shared, more dirty talk, hopeful ideas posed, and you were clearly eating every last bit of it up. Soon enough your legs were around his hips and he was as deep as could be, hands on your back and asking low in your ear, “We were thinking next weekend, you’d like that?” 

Holy shit, yes you would. 

It wasn’t just a threesome he, or rather, they wanted, it was a little more complex than that. He outlined what he wanted in full, when you weren’t actively fucking, and it was so clear, so precise, it was impressive. Clearly, they both had wanted it for a long while, he seems very excited when telling you about it, and it got you excited, the whole thing sounded so hot, you readily agreed, you trusted him, the plan was made. 

You could hardly contain your excitement for the next week, but soon enough you are in your rented car, driving yourself to where you’d been instructed to for this weekend’s plan. The drive is a good one, relaxing, it’s summer and mid-morning, the radio is playing and you are feeling good.

Upon arrival and getting out, you place your sunglasses on top of your head, staring up at the multi-level beach house you’d be residing in for the next three days, it’s massive for only one person and stunning, well maintained. Bags gotten from the back, you don’t waste time on the driveway and make your way inside. The outside didn’t even do it justice, looks even better inside, big windows, lots of natural light, the living room is comfortable, the kitchen is gorgeous, the back patio looks like the perfect place to have lunch later. 

You scope out the rest of the place, drop your bags in the bedroom upstairs, and you spend the rest of the day however you like. A trip into the nearby town, you get some good food, plan out what you are going to make for dinner, when you are back you have that lunch on the patio and the rest of your afternoon? After you change, you head down to the beach and spend it in the water and on the sand, relaxing with some music and a book. 

It’s hours and hours later. 

Dinner was fantastic, you’d made one of your favourites, indulged in dessert and drew a bath that you soaked in for a long time before finally pulling yourself out of it. Fluffy robe around yourself, you make your way back to the bedroom and take advantage of your very relaxed state at the moment, you hadn’t even bothered to tie the robe up, flopping back onto the bed. The robe was open, mostly just looped around your shoulders at this point, one hand slipping down your body and intent on working up a sweat, adding to the moisture on your already damp skin. 

You put on a very good show. 

They’d let you arrive first, but had been casually watching from afar for a while. They didn’t tell you when they’d arrive, they’d showed up when you had been cleaning up from lunch and then got changed for the beach. The pair had brought their bags in while you were in the water, hid them in the basement before really watching you, too far down the beach for you to recognize them, looking like just two average beach goers. This was fun, the casual stalking, the clear thought and intention, building anticipation for later that night. 

Stu opens the cooler upon his friends’ prompting, passing him the cold can, “How long have we wanted to do this?”

Billy exhaled as he accepted the beer, “Fuck man, years, don’t ask me how many, but years.”

A small beat before Stu asks, “Think it will live up to it?” 

“I’m trying to keep my expectations…” He hums as he cracks open the can, he takes a sip, leaves Stu hanging before finally saying, “-Realistic.”

“Come on, don’t act like you aren’t excited.” Stu nudged him before opening up his own can and Billy shifted in his comfortable beach chair, he was half hard watching you coming back out of the water, totally unaware of them. He was excited, really excited but again, talking about it and experiencing it are different, he isn’t trying to get his hopes up too high. 

“I’m into it, I swear, just again I dunno how it’s all gonna pan out.” 

“Your lack of faith is staggering.” Stu deadpans and Billy proceeds to defend himself, a gesture of his hands trying to communicate his point more strongly, “Listen, I am being open, I’m just not convinced.”

Receiving a harsh look, Stu’s mouth a flat unimpressed line is what makes Billy add on, “Yet.” 

Billy’s smile makes Stu smile too, and he says, “I’ll make you eat those words.” 

A small shake of his head as he brings up his drink for another sip,“I honestly hope you do.” 

The conversation on the beach was hours ago, their own shared meal eaten outside in the dark, hidden, watching you through the window as you sat at the table and indulged in what you made. After that, while you were bathing, they busied themselves with getting geared up in the garage, they’d stowed the outfits there earlier and had let themselves in through the side door. 

The excitement permeates the space between the pair. 

There is no talking at this moment, but both are thinking so loud, it was as if they were having a full-blown conversation, memories of previous times and feelings of exhilaration over what new stories to recall could be made tonight. Boot laces tied tightly, and robes over street clothes, masks on making breathing sound so much deeper and gloves pulled onto hands, over itchy fingers desperate to do all manner of depravity. 

It starts the way they always wanted it to, the only way that it should, with a phone call. 

Your phone on is on the nightstand, and it rings, your head lolls back, a look over, nose scrunching up wondering who is calling at this time. You roll onto your stomach, you scoop up your phone with one hand before rolling back over, you look at the screen, unknown number, but you shrug and answer it anyway, what have you got to lose? You swipe and bring the phone down to your ear and say, “Hello?”

You hear a laugh, small and a tad surprised, before the greeting is returned, “Hello there.” 

Curious, now why would the person on the other end be laughing? It prompts you to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it.” Interesting, you ask, “Sorry, so, uh who is this?”

“Awfully inquisitive, aren’t you?” He asks, and you ask in turn, your hand that wasn't holding the phone is up in front of your face, you are looking at it as you speak, “Am I?”

“All you’ve said so far are questions, from greeting to now, can’t it just be enough that I am a…Curious party.” You spread your fingers, they are still wet from your earlier activities. You are still soaked, aching, throbbing, thighs rub together restlessly as you ask further, “A curious party?”

“Yeah, just someone looking for some good conversation on a lonely Friday night, desperate for someone interesting to talk to, and you seem very, very interesting.” 

You spread your fingers again, watch the creamy strings of arousal break apart from the action, you ask, “Really? I seem that interesting that I am your best option to spend your time with on a Friday evening?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” Whoever he was asked, your hand comes down without thought, you suck the mess from your fingers, the taste is tangy and salty, thoroughly you, delightful. You pull your fingers back out of your mouth as you respond wetly into the phone, “Nothing terminal, it’s just a tad…”

You swallow it down and then finish your thought, “Pathetic.”

The voice sounds almost offended on the other end, shocked as he asks, “Pathetic?”

“Just a little! Like you don’t have a hot date or plans to see a movie, you are just, what? Cold calling strangers in hopes of someone to talk to? Kinda screams pathetic.” You are smiling, damp fingertips linger on your bottom lip and the voice speaks, once again curious as if still in disbelief over your assertion, “I’m pathetic?”

You roll your eyes and say, “Half-pathetic, is that better? C’mon, don’t get hung up on it, we were having fun, weren’t we?”

“Seems you were having more fun before I called.” He bites, and it’s your turn to laugh, “What makes you say that?” 

The question was genuine, how did he have any idea what you were up to before he called?

You got your answer very quickly, “As much as I am enjoying this conversation, I think you were enjoying having those fingers buried in that pretty little cunt a Hell of a lot more than this back and forth we are having at the moment.”

Heart drops, stomach tightens and your thighs still, hand dropping from your mouth, silence overtakes, how the fuck did he know that? 

It’s heavy for a moment until he breaks the quiet, “Oh you got nothing to say to that? Now who’s pathetic?” 

Your mouth opens and closes, tongue runs nervously over your lips as you try to find the words to respond, attempting to conjure up an adequate response but none springs to mind fast enough because he cuts in again, he sounds a mix between dangerously venomous and utterly amused, “You really are struggling! Did your brain leak outta your skull, hmm? No blood flow between the ears, it seems, it’s all pooled between your legs.” 

You sit up, mouth having fully fallen open, the words trying to soak into your grey matter as you bite back, “I have a brain!” 

The response from the receiver is sharper in tone than the edge of a fucking knife. “Act like it.” 

Holy fucking shit. 

You still have not spoken, so he continues to, “Because right now, you just seem totally fucking brain-dead, can’t even string a single sentence together. Is your mind elsewhere? Do you want to keep putting on a show for me instead?-”

He can see you. He has to, how else would he know what you have been up to, he is fucking talking, again,  “-I bet you do. Go on, go ahead, get those fingers back in that tight looking little hole, I’m waiting.”

You were not about to do this, were you? There was no fucking way that you would give in so easily, no you weren’t about to start masturbating for this freak on the phone, you were going to do something far more productive, track the son of a bitch. You are sitting up, looking around, the still wet hand closing your robe over your chest while your other hand held the phone to your ear. 

Get your body covered, get up off the bed, make sure the doors are locked, make it, so this freak can’t get in, go, go, go- his voice cuts through your train of thought once more, “Oh you are so cute! You are not going to find me that easily.” 

He might be right, but that doesn’t mean you were going to give up that easily, you are out of bed, robe is closed, and you are across the room, hand on the door knob, you twist, pull, the door opens, and it is revealed that you are in fact not actually alone in this beach house. 

“Surprise!” 

A tall figure clad in black hooded robes, a bleached bone white mask staring down at you, black eyes and mouth twisted open in a permanent scream, it makes you want to do that yourself. 

Instead, what you do is react quicker than you ever thought you could, you drop the phone, your hand comes up, and you move, slamming the door closed, one hand on the wood and the other still braced on the knob moves, you click the lock closed. Backing up, hands held up, bare foot brushing against the discarded cell abandoned on the floor as if on a cue the phone starting ringing when you made contact with it again, you jumped and vowed not to answer it. The pounding on the door is loud and incessant, he’s strong, he can get in here if he really wants to, and it sounds like he really fucking wants to. You think fast, you look around the room and make a choice that you can’t stay in here, you have a place you can go, but it’s risky, you have to be careful. 

You turn on your heel and move, abandon the door and still ringing phone and as you leave both sounds gets a little quieter, you enter into the ensuite bathroom, you close its door and lock it too before you hurry to the window. Cinching the robe’s belt tighter around your waist, you double knot it, and then you open the window, the breeze rolls in, fresh air on your face feels nice, soothing and calming, a slight balm to your currently frayed nerves and overactive mind, the smell of sea salt is strong. 

Fingers deftly roll your sleeves up, folding them, so they rest around your elbows, and then you set to your plan, you start to climb out the window. This place had a slanted roof, at a small angle, one you’d have to be cautious walking on, but you could walk on it all the same. You were going to hold on for dear life and make your way to the guest bedroom window, creep in quietly and then be able to hopefully get downstairs and out, away from this freak who wants to do God knows what to you. 

Doing this barefoot, is it smart or stupid? You find you can’t decide as you carefully step on the rough tiling, you have one hand on the top of the windowsill, and soon you are out into the open air, you keep one hand up, and slowly you start to move, hand braced on the roof, fingers passing over as you shuffle and move. You feel like a bit of a cliché’ as you keep thinking, “Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down-” 

You manage to make it after about a minute of mindful manoeuvring, your hand grips onto the window’s ledge and your other hand forces the window open, thank the Lord it wasn’t locked. The want to throw yourself inside is immense, but you have to be careful, instead you ease yourself in, ears strain to listen, you don’t hear the pounding, did he give up? You have to check. You creep to the door and peek out down the hallway towards the bedroom you’d been staying in, the door is open, and he is nowhere to be found, shit. 

No point in lingering, you have to make a move, or he will find you, quick and quiet feet carry you through the door and to the top of the stairs, your hand grips the railing, and you are about to start your descent when your periphery catches it, a flash of black fabric. Your heart seizes, and you swallow thickly, stomach dropping you don’t wait to confirm it, sure your mind might be playing tricks on you in your heightened state of terror, but why risk it? 

Down you go. 

You think that outside is best, try to make it down the dark beach under the cover of the night to the next beach house, ask for help, the robe you wore is white and not exactly the best for sneaking around, “Beggars can’t be choosers-” you muse as you pad down the hallway and towards the kitchen. You make your way through and were headed to the doors at the back leading out to the patio, so close, you’d be outside again and could hopefully make your escape. 

You have sincere hope. 

That same hope was short-lived. It died when the door swung open before you could reach it, when that same figure from earlier in that same outfit stepped inside. Tall and imposing, the air carried in from outside smelt like the beach usually does, salt tinges the air, you can hear the faint crash of the waves outside. The fragile and glass like pane of your now clearly false sense of security, that bubble of unearned cocky confidence that you could do this, get out, unscathed? It burst, popped, lays shattered at your feet that were currently trying to go backwards again. You don’t turn, try to back up as the one your eyes are locked on is advancing, the door had been closed, it’s too quiet, black boots on tile as he approaches, and you back up into something solid, firm, warm. Eyes look up, head tips back, a second figure, another mask, ah yes, of course. 

There are two of them, after all. 

No chance to move, hands settle slowly on your shoulders, a squeeze that is firm and felt through the plush material of the robe. The feeling of another hand on you makes your head snap back down, leather clad fingers trace down your chin and neck, “You did better than I thought you would. You mighta got away with it if it was just him, if I wasn’t outside watching, I saw your little stunt on the roof. Impressive honestly, real brave.”

His hand is moving lower, fingers dipping into the split in the front of your robe and something in you snaps, you don’t want to give in or give up yet, so you, once again, move. You pushed, both hands land on his chest, and you shove him backwards, the action is fast, it catches him off guard, perhaps he was a little too confident himself, assuming his accomplice having his hands on you would root you to the spot in fear alone. It is not enough, the other man’s grip was loose and with an elbow thrown back right after, catching him in the stomach you are off the second his hands slip away. 

You go to the left and try to pick up the pace as fast as you possibly can, you can still make it out of this intact, but you didn’t account for a few things. The floors are tile transitioning to hardwood, you are barefoot and sweating from fear and adrenaline, and how far they can reach, the minor moment it takes to recover after partially slipping is more than enough to give them the edge they require. 

You had made it a whole five pathetic steps before the hand is locked firmly onto your arm and yanking you back, hitting into the solid wall of his chest. You feel the touch of cool plastic from the mask he wore on the side of your face as he breathes out, “Aweee, too fucking bad.” 

The grip is unyielding as you are moved against your will, dragged towards the kitchen table, you struggle the whole way even though it is futile, helpless to the point it pulls a laugh out of them. 

“Such a try-hard!” Croons the one hauling you over hardwood, your toes barely skimming the smooth surface as you try to kick and wriggle away, “It’s adorable.” Calls the other, you can hear his smile behind the mask, following behind at a leisurely pace. 

Soon you are right in front of the table, and you are turned, ass pressed against the corner, there are hands-on your wrists, holding your hands behind your back, the grip painfully tight by the figure behind you. Yet you don’t give in, not bothered by the unusual angle of the edge of the table that between you and him. The table is heavy and thick wood, even the smallest part of it combined with his hands make your continued attempt once again laughable, no way you can have enough strength or leverage to budge the piece of furniture. You are still struggling, but the other one steps forward, his hands lock onto your shoulders. “Knock it off.”

Held by them, the multiple points of contact, the support of the table, you are thoroughly fucked. The bright flame of hope of escape inside of you dims, but the part of you that is acutely aware that this is a game, that under these masks are the men you know, one who you trust immensely, Stu, and the other his best friend Billy, and that thought? Instead, makes arousal spark in terrors place. You can truly allow yourself to feel everything, can give yourself over and into the game they set up.

“Seriously, you’ve lost. Accept it honey.” The last word is spoken with a particular spine-chilling bite that allows a tinge of fear to remain, you let it fuel the want further. 

You were just in this position. Your eyes flick over the few feet where you were bracketed by them both, totally boxed in, you had not been able to get away, no match for them. One hand is off your shoulder, the leather clad hand is gripping your face, it makes your eyes snap back to the mask staring you down. “Your eyes should always be on us, understood?”

Which one was this? You thought you’d be able to tell because of all your experience with Stu, but you really cannot nail it down, you are intimately familiar with Stu’s touch and his voice, but they sound different, not at all familiar. Not in a bad way, the voice they’ve adopted somehow is more than working for you, deeper, smooth yet still rough around the edges; the timbre of it resonates deep within, makes you think if pressed to bone it could vibrate you from the inside out, shake what makes you, you from your very body, separate spirit from flesh.

You’d have to ask later how they were doing it. 

Right now, you respond to what he said, a small nod as you confess, “I understand.”

“Good.” He all but purrs as his hand pats your cheek, condescendingly. 

“Ready for us to start having some real fun? Make that lame little conversation we had on the phone seem dull in comparison?” The one behind questioned and the one in front seemed all too enthusiastic. 

“God yes.” Came the response, “Watching her on the beach earlier was a total tease and I could barely get a good look at her in bed, I need to see this body up close.” 

No chance to react to the knowledge they were watching you on the beach, they probably were stalking you all fucking day without you even realizing it. Hands grip and your robe is pulled open and pushed down, your arms are locked to your sides by how the material bunches and sits, your tits fully out and on display. 

“Look at her.” Gloved hands are on you, touching you, palming your chest, groping, thumbs pass over your nipples lightly making you inhale a hair harder. You feel the mask on your bared shoulder, the assailant behind you also taking in the view and the slow, easy touches of leather encased fingers on delicate flesh.

“She’s not made of glass, you won’t break her.” The encouragement makes the treatment get rougher, a pinch of the sensitive peaks makes you tense momentarily from the jolt of pain. 

They take notice. Amusement is back as the one currently rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers says, “Oh, we are gonna be a lot rougher than that, but, don’t worry, you can take it.” 

As if to punctuate what he said and prove he can make good on his promise, one hand abandons toying with you and smacks your breast. The pain is different, sharper, it gets a bigger reaction, you squirm, body bows, and he hits again, another rock of your body, another hit lands. You exhale sharply, and you can feel the energy between the pair, it’s light and giddy. 

“Can’t wait to see all the reactions we can pull outta her. Get her on the table.” 

“In a minute.” Calls the one behind you. He lets go of your wrists, confident you are too distracted to do much of anything in the midst of your tit torture session. He unties the robe’s belt around your waist and pulls it behind, using it to bind your wrists, he twists and twines it, wraps it around, knots it tightly, with the thick material still bunched around your elbows, your arms are effectively useless. 

“There.” The one behind says before he hooks his fingers in the expert knots and pulls hard, your back hits the table, your tied hands rest in the small of your back, your weight on top of them will make them fall asleep you are sure of it as you groan. Between them both, you are adjusted, your head is hanging off the edge of the table, legs half hanging off the other side. You are exposed totally now, the robe is barely on and has fallen to the sides, neck, chest, stomach and lower all bare.

One of the chairs next to your head is pulled out, leg raises, black boot on the seat of the chair in plain view of you, and you watch as the knife on the ankle holster is removed. The knife is large, you’ve seen it before, in a movie once, the name flashes through your mind, bowie sounds correct. 

His boot moves, swings down, connects with the floor again and in a swift movement you feel the edge of cold steel against your throat. Your eyes go wide, a harsh swallow and the knife is held closer, if you attempted this action again you are sure that your skin would break, and you would bleed, a frightfully exciting concept. 

“This here is what we like to call incentive.” He all but purrs and the one at the other end of the table, currently standing between your legs, pipes up, “That’s a big word, you might want to spell it out.” 

A shared laugh, “Good point.” The flat of the blade taps, and he expounds, “This is here to make sure that you do every filthy, fucked up thing that crosses our minds, understood?” 

You had no option but to comply, to play nice and play the part of the good pliant fuck doll. 

The next move couldn’t be clearer to you. Eyes flick up and meet his hidden behind that mask, you tilt your chin up, holding your head with confidence, leaning into the blade, not shying away, not fearful and asked, “What’s first?”

[corroded-hellfire]

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 7

A collaboration with my partner in crime @munson-blurbs

Summary: Now that the boys know you and Eddie are together, this should make life easier. Right? Unfortunately, there's still Brittany and the court case to deal with. Not to mention, the age gap now bringing some complications to light.

Note: I will never ever get over the lovely things you all say to me about this series. Some comments make me laugh, some make me cry, but every single one of them means the world to me. I can never thank you enough for reading this series.

Warnings: smut, oral, m!receiving, age gap, older!eddie, dad!eddie, breeding kink, Brittany should just come with her own warning at this point

Words: 7.6k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Gray. Gray everywhere: the clouds roll in, dark and stormy, threatening rain. The overcast weather cloaks the atmosphere in dullness, as though it could sense your mood as you and Eddie head towards Brittany’s house—the same one they used to share. 

Ryan and Luke are playing at the Harrington’s house; Steve promised to drop them back home in time for bed, though you imagine it’ll be later than that, given his pushover nature. Just a little pout and a pleading, “five more minutes, Uncle Steve?” is all it takes. 

Their temporary absence gives you and Eddie the rare opportunity to speak to Brittany alone; something you typically avoid, but you need to have this conversation sooner rather than later. 

Eddie debates whether or not he should knock on the door. It was still technically his home by law, though he certainly doesn’t feel like he belongs here. He decides to let himself in, announcing that you’re both present. 

“Hello? Brittany? It’s me. Well, it’s us,” he amends, clearing his throat. 

Brittany comes down the hallway from the bedroom and it’s the most unkempt you’ve ever seen her. Her usually flawless blonde hair is pulled up into a frizzy, messy bun on the top of her head, and you swear you’ve never seen the woman in a pair of sweatpants before this moment. 

As soon as she sees you, she groans and crosses her arms over her chest. “You can’t just send the boys in?” she asks, an inevitable eye roll gracing her annoyingly pretty face. 

“The boys aren’t with us,” Eddie says as the two of you fully step inside the house and you close the door behind you. 

“Excuse me?” Brittany just stares at the two of you, the look completely blank, not even any confusion behind those dead eyes. Complete indifference. 

Eddie sighs, relaying the explanation. “Steve’s going to be dropping them off later,” he says. He subtly nods for you to follow him more inside the house and away from the door. “We need to talk to you. While they’re not here.”

“Why?” Now the venom is back in her scowl, her lip practically quivering and threatening to turn into a snarl. There’s the Brittany you know. 

“Just…” Eddie sighs and runs a hand over the top of his head. “Just come sit down.”

You follow Eddie into the kitchen, as does Brittany, no matter how unwittingly it was. The three of you sit at the table and it’s silent; no one knows what to say or wants to be the one to break the tension.  

Leave it to Brittany to be the one to speak first, and though you’re less than thrilled to hear her voice, a very small part of you is glad that someone says something. 

“Are you going to tell me why I’m sitting here with you and your tramp? Or are we gonna fucking play charades?”

As Eddie’s hands clench into fists on top of the table, you realize Brittany hasn’t looked at you once since you stepped inside. It brings you an odd air of satisfaction and smugness.  

Eddie, meanwhile, is fuming at the derogatory term she used on you, and you can tell he’s about to rip his estranged wife a new one, but you’re able to calm him down by taking one of his fists in both of your hands and massaging it and uncurling his fingers until his tension starts to melt. You’re tempted to press a kiss to the back of it, but you both came here for a reason and now that conversation must be had. 

“So, uh,” Eddie pauses to clear his throat, “we just wanted to give you a heads up because the boys already know and they’re not exactly tight lipped. Nor should they feel like they have to hide anything from anyone—especially a parent.” He almost said “especially a mom” but he and the boys know she’s never been much of one to begin with. 

Brittany’s eyes finally land on you as her gaze flits back and forth between you and your boyfriend. 

“What?” She demands. “What’re you giving me a heads up about?”

“Well,” Eddie says, linking his fingers with yours with the hand that you soothed for him. “We’re together. Like, officially. The boys know and they’re pretty over the moon about it.” Eddie didn’t need to add that bit, but he enjoyed saying it nonetheless. Maybe it’s petty, but he wants to show off how happy he is. 

Brittany’s arms drop to the table as if they’re suddenly dead weight. “What the fuck, Eddie?” Her gaze is now solely on him again. “The boys know you’re fucking their babysitter?”

“Jesus Christ, Brittany,” Eddie groans, closing his eyes for a moment as he massages his furrowed brow. “No, the boys know that we have feelings for one another and are going out on dates.”

“Are they even old enough to understand that?” Brittany snaps.

“You just asked if we told them that we were fucking,” you say, piping up for the first time in this conversation. “But them knowing we have feelings for each other is too hard for them to comprehend? They’re not babies anymore.”

The glare Brittany gives you could rival that of Medusa. 

“Sorry if you missed the fact that they’ve grown up because you were too busy fucking half the town,” Eddie retorts before he can stop himself.

“You can shut your mouth. You’re not their parent,” Brittany says, pointing a freshly manicured finger at you before turning it on Eddie. “And you can eat shit.”

Eddie sees the opportunity presented to him on a silver platter and he knows he has to take it. “It would still taste better than kissing you.”

Heat rises to your face at his words and Brittany looks like she’s about to hurl a chair at him. Eddie just laughs and leans back in his seat. He wraps his arm around the back of yours and you lean in towards his body.

“Is that all you’re here for?” Brittany asks through gritted teeth. “Because you’re free to fucking leave any time you’d like. You know where the door is.”

Eddie looks at you and nods his head. “I think we’re good to go. Ready, babe?”

“Ready,” you affirm, always eager to be out of Brittany’s presence. It’s the same satisfaction you’d get taking a shower after you’ve been covered in caked up mud and dirt.

Brittany doesn’t bother saying anything as she stands up and storms down the hallway. You and Eddie can’t help but share an amused look and a chuckle as you stand up. There had been so many times back when you were just the babysitter that Brittany would say or do something and you’d just want to look at Eddie like, is this bitch for real? Now you know that all along Eddie wanted that too, and now you’re both on the outside looking in at this angry and pathetic woman who’s more trouble than what she’s worth. 

As you’re approaching the front door, an annoyed and frustrated groan emanates from the back of the house. Sucks to be you, you think as your hand twists the doorknob. You don’t think there’s ever been a day in your life that you’ve felt sympathy for that woman, and you don’t intend to start any time soon.

“That went better than expected.”

“Better?” you gawp, still reeling from the barrage of insults hurled your way. Nothing less than what you’d expect of her, but still…damn.

Eddie shrugs. “She didn’t cut my dick off, so…yeah.” His eyes soften when he takes in your rigidity. “Baby, are you…she didn’t upset you, did she?”

“I know it’s stupid—” you start with a sigh, but Eddie cuts you off gently. 

“It’s not stupid. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a hug as you stand under the yellow porch light shining as best it can in the dreary evening around you. “I love you. My boys love you. And nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”

You don’t fully believe him—which part, you’re not sure, but his promise is enough for now. “Okay.”

You would think it’s the first time you’re looking after kids ever with the way the butterflies are surging through your bloodstream. They left your stomach when you kissed Eddie goodbye this morning and now they’ve hitched a ride to every other part of your body. 

Danny and Amelia have been great all day. Amelia is not a fussy baby, though she does want to be held most of the time. And Danny is a very helpful little boy, always showing you where the different things you might need are: extra diapers, toilet paper, batteries for the television remote, snacks, and even where his dad keeps an old baseball bat with nails hammered into it in the garage.

“N’case someone wanna break in,” Danny informed you, as if this bat a state-of-the-art alarm system. 

Both kids drift off on the way to pick the older gremlins up from school. It’s just as well since you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on a thing they’d say anyway. Your thumbs beat out an erratic rhythm on the beige leather steering wheel in the Harrington family’s van—left in your care so that you’re able to transport all six kids at once. You’re more jittery than normal, jumping at every horn that’s blared or siren that’s sounded on the short drive down to the elementary school.

Right before you’d left to snag the four older children, Eddie had called you from work. He had been notified of when his first court appearance for the custody case would have to be. Ever since the phone call you’ve been on edge, the idea of Eddie having to make a case that he deserves to have the kids when anyone with half a brain already knows that he should have them full time. The words “court date” just keep replaying on a loop in your brain over and over again. 

You’re only waiting in the Hawkins Elementary School pick-up line for ten minutes before the kids all clamor in the van, loud as all hell as they continue whatever conversation it was they were having on the way to the vehicle. They all buckle themselves in and say hi to Amelia and Danny, who are excited to see them now that the ruckus has woken them.

“Everyone all buckled in?” you ask.

“Yeah!” a chorus of children respond.

“All right, here we go.”

When you get back to the Harrington house, it’s time for Amelia to take a nap. You carry the sleepy girl on one hip while you lay out apple slices and pretzels for the older kids on the dining room table. It doesn’t take long for the crunching and chomping to reach your ears as you head down the hall to Amelia’s room. 

Once the kids are done eating, it’s time for them to do their homework. They sit at the dining room table all together, after only minimal push back, visible from where you sit on the couch with Danny. You’re hardly paying attention to some new cartoon about a sponge who lives in a pineapple that Danny is watching. Stupid, you think to yourself. This show will never last. 

The first one to finish their homework is Natalie, who moseys on over to sit next to you on the arm of the couch. She has shiny light brown hair that looks like it could give Steve’s a run for his money someday, and wide blue eyes just like her mother. The soft-spoken little girl looks like she wants to say something to you but isn’t sure how.

“How was school, Natalie?” you ask, deciding to try and break the ice for her.

“Was good,” she says. She balances on the arm of the couch and pulls the hem of her skirt over her knees, almost like a nervous habit. Only then do you realize she’s only met you those few times for brief play dates and doesn’t really know you.

“I saw when I walked past your room before that you have a PowerPuff Girls poster,” you say. “You like them?”

“Yes!” her face lights up at the question. “Blossom is my favorite.”

“I like the pink one. With the red hair,” you tell her. “What’s her name?”

“That’s Blossom,” Natalie tells you with a giggle.

“Oh, silly me,” you say, scrunching up your nose. 

Apparently, this was enough for Natalie to feel like she could open up and talk to you more. You’re glad; you want her to be comfortable with you.

“Ryan told me that you’re his daddy’s girlfriend.”

It’s the last thing you expected her to say, and you almost choke on your own saliva.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I am.” Your face feels warm, and you wonder if the young girl notices at all. 

“You love Uncle Eddie?” she asks, eyes shining as if she’s expecting an epic romantic tale.

“I do,” you tell her, a grin lighting up your own face.

“Ryan’s my boyfriend,” she tells you matter-of-factly.

You remember the way Ryan gets quiet and shy around Natalie or even when she’s simply mentioned. The feeling is decidedly mutual it seems.

“Does Ryan know this?” you ask.

Natalie shrugs, seeming unbothered. “If he doesn’t, he will.” 

You can’t help but admire the young girl’s confidence. 

“Does Uncle Eddie know he’s your boyfriend?” she asks. 

“Yes,” you tell her, letting out a small giggle. I may have had my fantasies for a while there, but this time it’s real. 

“Are you gonna get married?”

The unexpected question has your eyes bugging out and your throat going dry. “Okay, that’s enough questions,” you sputter, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. “Let’s get some homework done.”

“I am done,” she tells you.

“Then, uh, why don’t we see if any of the boys need some help.”

You breathe a sigh of relief when she skips off to check on Ryan, Luke, and Theo. Talks of marriage must wait another day. 

You’re reheating some chicken cutlets on the stove when the doorbell rings, almost silenced by the sounds of oil popping and six children playing nearby in the family room. 

It’s a bit early for Nancy or Steve to get home, and they wouldn’t ring the bell, so you have no idea who it could be. It sets you on-edge, especially knowing how many kids you now have to protect. 

Hugging a sleeping Mia to your chest, you look through the peephole to see none other than Edward Munson standing on the stoop. 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, your excitement quickly turning to frustration when you notice the boxes in his hands. “Is that…?”

Eddie’s too busy short-circuiting at the sight of you holding Mia to pick up on your ire. She looks so perfect holding a baby. 

While you’re distracted, Danny and Luke run up to the door. “Uncl’ Eddie brought pizza! Yes!” Danny shouts, and the whole crew erupts into cheers. 

“Eddie,” you hiss, trying not to wake Mia, lest you have another child to chase after, “Nancy told me to give them leftovers for dinner.”

“They can have them another time,” Eddie shrugs, “no big deal.”

You shake your head. “Yes, it is,” you insist. “I was given specific instructions to follow, and I’m not about to mess it up on day one.”

Eddie puts the pizza down on the table and rests his hands on your shoulders. “Look at me, okay? It’s just pizza. I’ve known the Harringtons since before they were the Harringtons, and they’re not gonna get mad over this. And if they do, I’ll take full responsibility.”

A tiny smile tugs at your lips despite the anxiety bubbling in your stomach. “You better.”

“Scout’s honor.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and there is a mixture of “aww” and gagging noises coming from the children. “I love you,” he says loud enough for only you to hear.

“You talking to me or Mia?” you ask, giving him a smirk as you cock an eyebrow. 

Eddie chuckles and looks down at the sleeping little girl again. Her small back gently rises and falls beneath your hand, the bottom of her dark red downy hair brushing your skin. “Talking to my favorite girl,” he says as he looks back up at you, brown eyes gleaming. “But Little Miss Mia knows how much I love her, too.”

As everyone is finishing up dinner—Mia now happily sitting in the lap of her favorite uncle—the front door opens and both Steve and Nancy step inside. 

“Mommy!” Danny calls, already out of his chair and running towards his mom at full speed.

Nancy huffs a laugh and manages to catch him before he can either knock her over or accidentally speed right past her and crash headfirst into a wall.  

“Hey,” Steve pouts, resting his hands on his hips. “Mommy’s been going to work every day. Who usually stays home with you? Me! Did you miss me?”

Danny just giggles and hides his face in Nancy’s shirt, having chosen a favorite parent for the evening. 

“Hi, Daddy!” Theo calls from the table, waving a tomato-sauce-covered hand high above his head.

“Looks like we missed a pizza party,” Steve says as he walks over to the table. He raises his eyebrows and immediately turns his gaze to Eddie. 

You’re slightly nervous that Steve is going to be upset about the pizza and you start to fidget with your hands under the table, already thinking of a way to keep him from getting too angry.  

Before you can muster up an explanation, Eddie takes one hand off of Mia and grabs your trembling one to give it a reassuring squeeze. “Stashed the extra pie in my truck so the rugrats didn’t try to sneak a slice,” Eddie tells him with a grin. 

“This is why we’re best friends—oh shi-…I mean, sugar. Did I just admit to that out loud?” Steve muses as he turns away from the table to head out to Eddie’s truck.

“Too late,” Eddie calls after him. “It’s already been written down by the stenographer.”

Luke leans in towards you. “What’s a sornographer?” he asks, mouth surrounded by a tomato sauce goatee.  

You press your lips together to keep from laughing at his mispronunciation. 

“Someone who types all the words people are saying.”

Luke’s eyes widen and he frantically looks around the dining room in search of the mysterious ‘sornographer’. “Where are they?”

This time you can’t hold the giggle in. “Noooo, not here, Luke. Like, in court. With a judge and lawyers and stuff.”

Natalie wipes her hands and face off on a napkin before skipping over to her mother. “Mommy!” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around her. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” Nancy gives her a big hug. “How was your day?”

“So good! At school we watched a video with this cute little doggy who was being Sherlock Holmes, and then we came home and had the best time!”

Natalie’s enthusiasm about the time you spent with her this afternoon warms your heart and has the pressure of tears building behind your eyes. She leans into her mom and whispers so no one else can hear, but judging by the way her eyes flit over to Ryan before sliding over to Eddie, you assume she’s telling Nancy about your discussion about boys earlier.

“You’re a silly girl,” Nancy laughs, pressing a kiss to her eldest daughter’s temple. 

When Natalie bounds back over to her siblings and friends, you take the opportunity to shyly make your way over to Nancy’s side.  

“I’m, um, sorry about the pizza. I know you said to use the—”

Nancy cuts you off with an understanding shake of her head. “Don’t worry about it; I already figured that Beavis or Butthead brought it home.”

“Who’s who?”

She sighs. “I honestly couldn’t tell you.”

Usually, the routine would be for you to leave the Harrington’s with Ryan and Luke, then take them to whichever parent they’re staying with at the time. But, one, Eddie isn’t in his new apartment yet, and two, Eddie was at the Harrington’s as well tonight, so it becomes a group activity to bring the boys to Brittany’s.

The boys insist on being with you in your car on the ride over, which brings a smile to your face that warms Eddie’s heart. As much as he’d love to spend every available moment with them, having them want to be with you was a very close second.

When you park in front of the familiar one-story house, both boys take turns leaning into the front seat to give you hugs that are so tight you’re wondering when they got so strong.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, guys!” you call through your open car window.

“Bye!” Ryan says, throwing you a wave as he hikes his backpack up.

“Love you!” Luke calls back and it just about stops your heart. You’ve always known that the boys care about you and even adore you, but love? Tears prick the corner of your eyes, and you hope the light from the full moon outside is casting a shadow over your car so you can dab at your eyes with some privacy. 

Eddie gets out of his truck and walks over the cracked sidewalk to meet the boys in front of the house. Luke takes Eddie’s hand and even in the darkness of the evening you can see Eddie smile at his youngest. Before they can get to the door, it swings open and reveals Brittany waiting there, arms crossed over a fuzzy white sweater. Her piercing eyes land on the boys, move to Eddie, dart to you sitting in your car, back to the boys, and finally land on Eddie again. 

“You don’t have to walk them to the door, you know,” she snaps at her estranged husband immediately, not even taking a moment to acknowledge the kids. “You can stay in the car with your homewrecker.”

Eddie is fuming but he won’t show it in front of the boys. Every little insult she throws your way takes a little chink out of his armor and he’s not sure what he’ll do when that armor eventually leaves him exposed.

Instead, Eddie gets down on one knee on the uneven cobblestone path in front of the door so he can give each of his sons a big bear hug goodbye, silently praying what their mother just said goes over their heads. 

“I’ll see you guys soon, okay?” Eddie says, shards of his heart being crushed into dust as the moment he has to leave them here with her approaches. 

“I’ll miss you,” Luke says, reaching up and gently running his fingers tips over Eddie’s stubble that’s longer than usual. The way Luke studies his father’s face is almost like he’s committing the smallest details to memory. You wouldn’t be surprised if it’s so the boy could find ways to try and look like Eddie even more than he already does. 

“I’ll miss you too, bud,” Eddie says, his glass heart completely shattered now. “But soon I’ll have my apartment and we’ll have all the time in the world to hang out.”

“I love you, Daddy,” Ryan says, a sad smile on his face. Ryan has an easier time understanding the dynamics of what’s going on with the divorce and all, and he’s come to realize that his dad doesn’t want to leave him just as much as Ryan doesn’t want him to go.

“I love you, too. Both of you,” Eddie says as he ruffles up both boys’ hair. He stands up and presses a kiss to the top of both of their heads.

“See ya soon, you funky raccoon,” Eddie says, coming up with the ridiculous rhyme on the spot.

It gets the intended response though, as Luke busts out into giggles and replies, “see ya soon, smelly baboon.”

Eddie gently boops Ryan’s nose before he gives them one last smile and heads back down the walkway. He shoots you a small smile as well, that you acknowledge with a little wave. You wish you were both driving in the same car right now. You’d be able to hold his hand and assure him that everything is going to be alright. Deep down, Eddie knows; it’s just nice to be reminded sometimes.

Eddie climbs back in the truck and starts the engine. Once he pulls out onto the road, you follow behind him and make the drive back to your apartment. 

As soon as you get to your place, you and Eddie are all over each other. There was barely any preamble as the pair of you got out of your vehicles and met each other at the entrance. A breathy “hi” barely made it out of your mouth before Eddie’s hands were on your hips and his lips were attacking your neck with fervor as you tried to buzz the two of you into your building.

Mere steps from of the staircase, he starts peeling your jacket off your shoulders while you’re still in the hallway.

“Impatient much?” you tease, going in for another kiss and biting his lip purposefully.

“You tell me.” He guides your hand to where his erection strains against his jeans. Without warning, you give a particularly hard rub over his aching cock, just to hear the satisfying hiss that comes from his lips.

You can’t open the door fast enough; luckily, Jess isn’t home to make a sarcastic comment as you pull him into your room and push him onto your bed.

“All mine,” you murmur as you suck on the skin along his collarbone. He tugs on your thighs to pull you up more, so your pussy is on top of his groin. As you continue to grind on him, you feel him softening beneath you. You frown, but try to hide it by ducking your head.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. 

“Nope, all good,” he lies through his teeth. Not well either, but you don’t want to press the issue.

You try to push past it, but he can’t deny that there’s an issue when you unbutton his pants and pull down the waistband to reveal his flaccid penis. 

“Eds,” you frown, ignoring the shame overtaking you. You’re on top of your boyfriend and he couldn’t be softer if he tried. You make a mental list of everything you hate about your body before asking, “What’s going on?”

He sucks in a harsh breath. “Christ, I…it’s her, okay?” You don’t have to guess who he’s referring to. “All I wanna do is focus on you, but she makes me so damn mad.”

“S’okay,” you keep your voice soft and kiss just below his earlobe. “We can talk about it later, if you want.” He nods, and you continue, “for now, let me help you relax.”

You slide down until your knees make contact with the thin pink rug you have to cushion you from the hardwood floor beneath. Eager lips trail down the sparse patch of hair on his chest, to his tummy, and down to his cock. “Do you think I didn’t notice the way your eyes nearly popped out of your head when you saw me holding Baby Mia?” You giggle when he freezes up. “Tell me, Eds; what were you thinking about?”

“Was thinkin’,” he swallows thickly, “about our baby.”

“Mm, so just me holding our baby? That’s what got you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head. “N-No, a-also…also thought about getting you pregnant, watching you grow our child…” His dick twitches slightly; you lift it and lick up the underside of his shaft. A seed of pride plants itself in your chest at knowing just what to say to get him feeling excited. 

“Keep telling me what you thought about while I make you feel good.” You bring one ball into your mouth and suck lightly, already feeling his length starting to stiffen once more. “Don’t be shy.”

He breathes out slowly. “I want to fill you up every goddamn day and night until it takes, oh, fuck.” His concentration fades in and out as you suck on the head of his cock. “And once I knock you up, you know damn well I won’t be able to keep my hands offa you.” 

You hum your acknowledgment, sending vibrations from tip to base. 

“Sh-Shit, thinkin’ ‘bout you pregnant and bouncin’ on my cock. Gonna be so perfect.”

Avoiding the temptation to touch yourself, you put one hand on each of his ass cheeks and grab at the flesh, opening your throat to take him deeper. This is all about him right now. 

“Gonna keep you pregnant forever. I’ll marry you first, though. Promise.” Heat creeps into your face; he catches the soft smile dancing on your lips before you collect yourself and continue pleasuring him. “You like that? Gonna be my cute little pregnant housewife?”

Your thighs clench together involuntarily, and you quicken your pace. “Fu-uck, baby doll. ‘M close.”

You suck harder, deeper, your nose grazing his pubic hair. Saliva drips down your chin but you can’t be bothered to wipe it away. 

“Look at me while I fuck your pretty face,” he orders, and you peer upwards into his lust-blown eyes. “Good girl.”

You cup his balls with one hand and his knees weaken, a string of swears passing his lips as his release coats your tongue and slides down your throat. 

He holds out a slightly trembling hand and helps you up off the floor. 

“You’re a fuckin’ dream come true.”

A giggle bubbles out of you as he tugs you onto the bed with him and you land on top of his chest.

“I could say the same about you, Mr. Munson.” The slight movement from Eddie’s spent dick beneath you brings a satisfied smirk to your face. 

“Jesus, the way you say that drives me crazy,” Eddie admits, still trying to catch his breath. 

“I noticed,” you say with a wink.

After both of you have showered, the two of you go into the kitchen looking for a late night snack. The folder Eddie has been keeping all of the documents related to the divorce and custody in is on the table, an unwanted reminder that you’d hadn’t gotten a chance to really discuss it today beyond that brief phone call.

“So, uh,” you say, breaking the ice as you pull a bag of Cheetos from the pantry, “your first court date is set?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a sigh. He slides down into a chair at the kitchen table and you take the one opposite him. “Monday, March 29th.”

He doesn’t offer more information, so you have to do the digging. You hate having to draw information from him like this; you wish he would open up easier. “Did you, o-or rather, did your lawyer tell you what to expect?”

“I’m supposed to have some sort of plan of what I want for the kids,” he shrugs, though his fidgeting fingers tell you that he’s more concerned than he’s letting on. “Like, how I want full custody. But I’m not opposed to Brittany getting visitation rights. I think the judge just kind of wants to hear what both her and I have to say.”

“I imagine she’s going to have a very different plan than you prepared,” you say with a grimace.

Eddie huffs a humorless laugh and rests his head on his propped up fist. “She’ll go for the throat. Use any mistakes I’ve made or bad days I’ve had over the years as an excuse for why they shouldn’t be with me.”

“She’s going to make it brutal,” you say more to yourself than to Eddie. “But I’ll be right by your side the whole time, okay?” You start to reach for his hand, frowning when he looks away. “What?” Did I say something that upset him? Am I handling this right? 

“Maybe,” he breathes, carefully considering his words, “maybe you can stay here with the boys?”

His rejection smarts like a slap across the face. He doesn’t want you there. But why?

The obvious answer stares you down: you’re the other woman. The young babysitter who seduced a married man and destroyed his otherwise impeccable relationship, as Brittany will likely paint it. 

Shame seeps from your pores; you will yourself to ask him the question burning on your tongue: “Did I do something wrong?”

Eddie can feel his heart break with each word. “Did you—no, it’s just, y’know, don’t want too many cooks in the kitchen.” He inwardly winces at his pathetic excuse, not wanting you to know the truth. 

“Right, yeah.” But nothing about this is right; you’re partners—or, at least, you’re supposed to be. If you were in his position, you would love to have him by your side, supporting you. Clearly, he doesn’t feel the same way. 

He’s going through a lot, you try and reason with yourself. Maybe a change to a happier subject will lighten the mood. There’s plenty of time before the hearing anyway.

“So, um, my birthday is in a few days.” You lower your voice to a sultry tone, trailing your bare foot up his leg beneath the table. “My friends wanted to take me out and get me wasted for the big 2-1, but I was thinking we should spend it together…in bed…clothing optional?”

Eddie stands up and kisses you, and you think he’s going to accept your offer, but he shakes his head. “Nah, babe. You should go out with your friends. Enjoy your time with them, ya know?”

His head swims with of all of the instances where he’d begged Brittany for cozy nights together when she had wanted to go out with her girlfriends. He doesn’t want you to resent him the way she did.  

You’re so young; at your age, he’d go out with his friends, drinking and partying. Is he tying you down? A relationship with a man going through a divorce and who has two kids? At 21 years old? The least he can do is encourage you to have that wild 21st birthday with your friends that you deserve. 

“Okay, um, do you wanna come with me? I’d love for you to meet my friends,” you try again, desperate to crack the shell he’s built around himself. You stand and pad closer to him.

Eddie puts his finger under your chin. “Go with your friends, baby. I’ll be around to pick you up if you need a designated driver.”

Tears embarrassingly blur your vision. “Did I do something, Eddie?”

“No, why?” He leans on the countertop, chewing a Cheeto thoughtfully. 

“Because…because you don’t want me at the hearing, and you don’t want to celebrate my birthday with me. And if I did something to upset you, I want to fix it.”

He wipes the orange dust on a nearby towel and exhales impatiently. “Babe, I told you. The court stuff is just messy, and I want you to have time with your friends. Don’t read too much into it.”

His nonchalance irritates you. He doesn’t want you around, and he’s playing it off like it’s nothing. 

“Jesus, sorry for trying to support you and for wanting to be around you,” you snap, your craving for snacks evaporating as you’re filled with anger. It’s better than the despair that’s threatening to replace it. “I guess I’ll just swing by whenever you need a quickie.”

Eddie winces at your vitriol. “Swing by whenever—what the hell are you talking about? This is more than just sex, we love each other, and you know it.”

You do know it, but you’re too worked up to care about logic. You grab his keys from the countertop. “Go home.” It’s not until the words come out of your mouth that you realize he doesn’t really have a home to go to. The consideration of taking them back flits through your head like a leaf caught in a wind tunnel.

He throws his arms up in the air, defeated. “C’mon, babe. Don’t be like this.”

“Be like what, Eddie? Upset that my boyfriend doesn’t want me around? Frustrated because it shouldn’t be fucking impossible go get you to open up to me? Humiliated because you were soft while I grinded on top of you?!”

“I told you,” he says through gritted teeth, “it was because of all of the shit with—”

“I know; all of the shit with Brittany. I got it.” You roll your eyes. “That’s why I offered to go to court with you, but you said no. So, I guess I’m good enough to use as a distraction, but not—”

“I’m not…I’m not using you. Jesus Christ.” Eddie rakes his hands through his curls. “You wanna be at the hearing with me? Listen to all of the terrible things my ex has to say about me? Be my guest.” His mind goes back to just yesterday at how you were bothered by Brittany’s hostility. It would only be increased tenfold when she’s putting on a performance for the judge.

You’re fuming, hurling words like hand grenades. “After everything we’ve gone through, do you really think I’d take what she says to heart? What, is she gonna complain that you cheated, when she’s screwing half the town?”

Your candor awakens a rage within him. “You know what?” he seethes. “I give up. I spent most of my marriage trying to make my wife spend time with me, and that didn’t work. Now, I’m trying to make sure you have a life outside of our relationship, and that doesn’t work either.”

“I can handle myself!” You bite back. “I know what’s best for me; I’m not a child.”

“Barely.”

The one icy word has tears burning behind your eyes, but you refuse to let them show—it’d only give his insult traction. 

“Is that what you think this is, then?” you demand. “Poor, young girl just wants a big strong man to take care of her?”

Eddie looks like he’s about to tear out every last hair on his head. “No! Fuck, why do you keep twisting my words?” 

“I have to try and find some meaning behind them when you won’t tell me what you’re really thinking!”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans, rubbing his hands down his face. “You want to know what I’m really thinking? I’m thinking that before this moment I didn’t see you as some whiny brat who’s going to scream and stomp her foot when she doesn’t get her way.”

“And now?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

He sputters for a response. “Now I don’t know what to fucking think. You’re more mature than this—or so I thought. But it seems like now you’re having a goddamn tantrum.”

A tantrum. You’re trying to communicate how excluded you feel, and he reduces it to a tantrum. “I just don’t understand! Why don’t you want me with you?”

Eddie paces a few laps in front of you, his hands on his hips. “You want to know? You wanna know fucking why? Because I know the venom Brittany can spit when she’s not even trying to hurt someone. And when she puts her mind to it? The woman channels Satan himself.” He chuckles tersely, shaking his head as though he can’t believe he’s even entertaining this conversation. “I couldn’t give two shits what she says about me in that courtroom. But she’s going to be hurling her malice in your direction as well and there’s no way I can have you hearing that. She’s vicious and ruthless and I want to spare you from that. I don’t want you there with me that day, but it’s not because I don’t want you at my side, it’s because I want to shield you from that and her.” 

The rational explanation should calm your anger, but it only fans the flames further. 

“I get to make that decision for myself, Eddie. I am a grown ass woman and I get to decide what I can and cannot handle. You don’t get to make those choices for me and then call it protection. That’s not how this is going to work. And what about my fucking birthday, huh? Trying to ‘shield’ me from something there, too?”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to take a calming breath to steady himself—it doesn’t work all that well. “Sweetheart,” he starts, not missing the ice in your glare at his use of the pet name, “I just want you to go out and have a good time with your friends, okay? That’s all! It’s your 21st birthday, for Christ’s sake. You should be going from bar to bar with your friends, getting free shots and dancing and laughing the whole night. And you want to spend that night with me?” Eddie shakes his head incredulously. “We spend every night together right now.”

“But it’s not just an ordinary night,” you shoot back. “It’s my birthday and I should be allowed to say how I want to spend it.” 

Eddie is steadily moving from anger to exasperation. He takes a step closer to you and lays his hands on your shoulders, making sure you’re looking at him. 

“You are young. This is when you should be partying and drinking and all that shit with your friends.” He’s practically begging you to understand his perspective. “Not coming to some stuffy courtroom with a man who is going through a divorce and fighting for the custody of his kids.”

“But I choose this,” you say. “I choose you.” You jab your index finger into his chest. “I’m more than capable of making decisions for myself, Eddie. I don’t need you telling me what’s best for me. This is my life and I call the shots. And, for the love of God, can you please stop acting like you’re this ancient old man? I know I tease and call you old all the time but you’re thirty-fucking-two! You are young!”

“I just…” Eddie trails off with a sigh. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, though it’s still tinged with anger. “I just don’t want you to end up resenting me because you spent your early twenties being a shoulder for me to cry on when you should be exploring and enjoying life.”

“I am enjoying life, Eddie. With you!” you insist. “This is what I want. It’s my choice and you can’t take my autonomy away from me.” 

“And I would never want to,” Eddie says, voice slightly calmer. “I’m just trying to do what I think is best because I love you. That’s all.”

You drum your fingers on the counter, mimicking a heartbeat. “You don’t get to determine that, Eddie.”

Eddie sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead. “You’re right.” 

There’s a beat of silence before you say, “thank you.” Eddie simply nods in acknowledgment. “So, can I come to the courtroom?” you ask, the slightest bit of hope in your voice.

“I still don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” he admits with a sigh.

Heat rises in your body as your temper threatens to engulf you again. Not wanted, not needed. Disposable. Easily discarded.  

“And…what about my birthday?” You should shut up, stop asking questions, but you’re desperate for closure. 

Eddie sighs again. His eyes look anywhere but at you. “It’s your birthday. You make the call. I just…I wish you’d go out with your friends.”

“Would you come with me?”

“Princess,” Eddie says softly, and you already know his answer. “I’ll just be a downer. You don’t want me there.”

But you do. None of your words seem to break through that thick skull of his though. You were willing to compromise about going out as long as your boyfriend would come with you, but no. Eddie wants this to be an Eddie-less birthday for you for some reason.

“I think I should stay with the Harringtons for a bit,” he says finally, voice barely above a whisper. “I just…I need to think about things.”

Your bottom lip starts to tremble despite yourself. “Think about…us?”

“Yeah,” Eddie starts, backtracking immediately when he sees the panic in your eyes. “No, no, not like that.” He steps forward, as if to comfort you, but stops himself. “Just…about this.” Eddie gestures vaguely to the space around you. “I think we both need some time to calm down and think.”

You nod and wrap your arms around yourself. Part of you knows he’s right, but part of you wants him to stay here so you can work through it together. But it’s been a long day and it’s not the worst idea to have some time for yourself. “O-Okay,” you say in a shaky voice.

Eddie slips into your room and grabs the duffel bag he’s been living out of. “I’ll, uh, talk to you later,” Eddie says. Everything in him wants to lean in and kiss you—even just your cheek, but he restrains himself. 

“Okay,” you repeat, unable to conjure up a more eloquent response. 

Eddie picks his keys up off the counter and jingles them a few times between his fingers. He wants to speak but doesn’t know what there is to say, so he nods his head and walks out the front door. 

You listen as his footsteps disappear down the hall and once you can no longer hear them, the first sob leaves your lips as you slide down to sit on the kitchen floor and just cry. 

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #45] The Rule of Five

warnings: some lovely lil confessions <3 kissy kissy koo<3 a lil cock warming, smut, missionary, mentions of the B word (boyfriend), mentions of the G word (girlfriend), sweaty koo <33, 'good girl', jk can't stop calling her baby!! god he's smitten!!, multiple orgasms, squirting!, despite the smut a very fluffy chapter!! ever so lovely!

notes: everyone used to get annoyed in the wp comments at this one hahahaha 'just talk!!! stop shagging!!!!!!' and also the 'surely' line always got people screaming at me hahaha. there's only one upload tonight, but a handful scheduled for tomorrow night. we're just setting you up for what's to follow hehe

wc: 7.6K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Careful," you say quietly, cautious in your tone. Jeongguk's eyes drop to his hands. Yours do the same. "Sounds a bit like you're confessing."

Well, no. It sounds exactly like that.

It is exactly like that.

But there's just something about it that gets your guard up for no good reason. You trust him, even if his sincere eyes are avoiding yours in this moment. Trust is not something that even comes into question with Jeongguk, not really. Has proven himself time and time again.

You're a product of your past, though.

He never expected this to be easy. Anticipated a little resistance, 'cause even though you're well aware of your self-worth, you always seem to feel undeserving of kindness.

He pulls one of the velvet scatter cushions to his lap, filling the space that typically belongs to you. Wishes he could pull you closer, but the physical distance is too great.

At opposite ends of the room, the separation hurts.

It's unlike you to not sit with him. It's unlike him to not insist that you do. All of this is so unlike your typical way of behaving with one another.

So long has been spent nurturing the careless comfort of your friendship that these new paradigms don't sit quite right—and nor does Jeongguk as he shuffles a little awkwardly in his seat.

"I sort of am," he finally admits, lifting his gaze to meet yours. He speaks quickly, 'cause he fears he won't speak at all, otherwise.

You sorta look at him like he just told you he's a furry, or some sort of underground criminal.

Confusion laces your features, and there's a slight gape to your glossy lips. Shock, perhaps—as if you weren't the one saying just how much you like him on the beach a couple of nights ago.

"It just says to 'admit your feelings'," he says of the bird. Swallows. Shrugs. Acts all indifferent. "So that's what I'm doing."

On a technicality, he's admitted no feelings—just made it known that he has some.

But he can have all sorts of feelings about all sorts of things.

For instance, he feels so incredibly fondly of the way you're absent-mindedly fiddling with the bird on the chain around your neck. 

Feels like his heart might explode. Like he might die.

"So admit them," you quietly encourage.

When he looks at you, it's like a thousand words are running through his head in just a single second. Declarations of adoration, safety, security.

And yet you're met with silence.

Perhaps the distance between you is too far. Too great.

So you minimise it.

Walk towards him. Find solace in the way his body just seems to react without his brain really engaging. The pillow he's been holding is tossed to the side as his arm outstretches a hand for you to hold. His now empty lap becomes the only place you want to be.

Funnily enough, it's right where he wants you, too. He encourages you onto his thighs. Pulls your waist to hike you up. Gets you positioned in a place that is far too promiscuous for such a pure moment—but it eases the tension. Reinforces the safety nurtured between you both.

It's better when you're together.

"I'm no good with words," he whispers, tepid as his nose nudges up against yours.

Eyes closing, the familiar sensation of his nose gently pushing into the space beside yours has you losing your breath.

"Then don't use your words," you offer. It's almost silent, but it doesn't matter. He hears. He always hears. "Show me."

There's a pause; momentary silence when the beating of your hearts drown out everything else. Just you and him. Quiet in place of confessions.

He tries not to alert you to the fact he licks his lips, but with his nose nestled so closely to yours, you feel the slight brush of his wet tongue.

Your hands are on either side of his throat, thumbs brushing over the sharp edge of his jaw. He's unsure if the subtle nod of your head is permission to close the gap, or just an excuse to stroke your nose up against his.

He waits. Hopes you'll press down against his parted lips. Grips your waist a little tighter.

"Remember what you said? How you could fuck me like you... " You whisper, not finishing the sentence. Now is no time to be dropping such heavy words. Not yet.

But he knows. Could fuck you like I love you.

"Yeah," he nods. Your lips brush. He thinks he might die. "I remember."

"Told you I'd be able to tell."

In fact, he thinks he might have already passed over.

Again, he nods. Lets his bottom lip catch on yours. Does nothing about it. Says, "You did."

"So fuck me how you feel about me," you quietly implore.

It's a stunted logic, you'll admit.

You started sleeping together to help you separate sex from intimacy, but it's becoming redundant. It's a little hard to keep them apart. Your heart's started throwing tantrums. Insists that you're supposed to feel intimacy with Jeongguk, regardless of the fucking.

You're not sure at which point it all changed.

Truthfully, you think it's always sort of been this way. You were just better at hiding it.

"Is that what you want?" Jeongguk asks, 'cause he's done this before.

Has fucked someone like he meant it, only for it to tear apart what he'd so carefully built.

Thing is, you built this mess of a castle together. If it crumbles, you'll both get caught in the rubble. Not just him.

He's not alone. Not in his feelings, nor in his desires.

It only makes sense that you should be together.

"It's what I want," you promise.

"Will you do it too?"

"Hm?"

"Will you fuck me how you feel about me?"

Part of you finds it hard to believe that he hasn't realised you've been fucking him like you adore him for months. Was accidental at first—until he showed up at your door with the stain of Hayun's lipstick on the back of his hand. Was deliberate that time.

Was direct, and desperate. Devastating.

"I never got over it," you shyly admit, then clarify, "Kissing, I mean. I never stopped thinking it was the most intimate thing in the world."

"You kiss me all the time."

"I kiss you all the time," you nod, tenderly pressing your lips into his for the featheriest of kisses. Double down your declaration. "Been fucking you like I mean it for a while, Gguk."

Months, he thinks, but doesn't verbalise. His tummy feels all funny; like he's on a rollercoaster with a drop that never comes. Just builds and builds. Higher and higher. Closer and closer to the heavens. He'd think about dying again, but he doesn't ever want to stop living in this moment.

"We're really bad at this whole 'just friends' thing," he laughs a little. Steals a frail kiss. Is delicate, so as to not break it.

Yep. Fuck it. Dying.

You shake your head. Giggle too, 'cause it half feels like you might cry.

"Or really good. Kept it up for a really long time."

And while Jeongguk is certain you are his best friend, he's also certain that he's in love with you. Has no interest in pretending like he isn't, even if he isn't brave enough to say the words just yet.

But he is brave enough to kiss you again.

Bold enough to start undressing you, pulling the shirt you're wearing over your head, barely parting from your lips as he does so.

Brazen enough to not give a fuck that you're in the sitting room as he unclasps your bra, lips still on yours as he begins to play with your chest.

"Like your tits way too much," he mumbles into your lips. Is smiling. You can feel it. "Was fucked the first time I held them. Game fuckin' over."

The admittance of his weakness comes as no surprise, but it's still nice to hear. Nice to know his attraction to you rewired his brain. Nice to think that maybe he's been grappling with his feelings for just as long as you've been with yours.

It's effortless, how Jeongguk stands and encourages your legs to wrap around his waist. Doesn't stop kissing you. Doesn't need to. Knows the way to your bed far better than any friend ever should.

But you aren't just friends, are you?

'Cause friends don't giggle their way into bed together.

No, friends don't touch you in the way that Jeongguk touches you.

Friends don't whimper into each other's mouths as they tease each other just right.

And friends definitely don't share oxygen through unfortified kisses as one of them brings the other to an orgasm within the space of a minute.

"Already?" He smirks, pressing down into your lips, fingers gently easing the pressure applied to your pussy.

"Fuck off," you simper with a pretty little giggle.

So cute, Jeongguk thinks—until he brings his fingers to your mouth, and then you're just straight-up hot as fuck.

The way his eyes drink you in is sin. You're like fine fuckin' whisky, and Jeongguk's been sober for months, or so it feels. Gets drunk off the scent alone. God forbid he tastes you. Might just lose his mind. Blackout. Forget everything other than the sensation of you.

Your essence is diluted by the time his tongue licks into your mouth in a flurry of messy kisses. Still divine, but far more manageable for him. Lets him at least retain a little agency as his hands roam. Lips, too. They never stray too far from yours, though.

'Cause kissing is intimate. He knows this to be true.

And Jeongguk wants that intimacy. Wants it with you .

"Can we just—" he husks, unable to finish his request thanks to the soft moan that escapes his pouty lips as he pushes his thick, hard cock into you for the first time.

You're tight around his length, the orgasm you've already had rendering your body in that post-euphoric way of being. You'll ease into it with every stroke of his cock inside you. Lord knows you're wet enough to make things easy for him.

Pressing his lips against your cheek, Jeongguk doesn't care to make sense.

He knows you. Knows your body. Knows that you know his.

Whatever needs to be said is done so through subtle tells—the barely-there movement of his weighty body on top of yours, the squeeze of your fingertips at the nape of his neck.

"Wanna— uh, fuck —just stay like this," he exhales. "Just for a moment."

You nod. Whimper. "Mhhm."

"Fuck," he sighs, letting his weight shift. He doesn't need to keep himself so composed. Just needs to exist. With you. Within you.

Your walls tighten, keeping him warm. Jeongguk whines into pressure, pressing his lips to whichever part of your face is closest. Jaw, cheeks, temples. He waits for your head to turn, and when it does, his lips find yours. Plush as they sink between yours, he's slow in the way he kisses you.

Jeongguk knows that as soon as he starts fucking you, that he'll finish in five-seconds-flat. There's too much going on inside his head for him to be able to control himself and his needs to make you his.

Your body is warm; your heart a furnace that is burning so brightly he might mistake it for a star.

"Feel so good," he mumbles, a hand squeezing at your chest while the other holds your wrists above your head. "How do you always feel this fuckin' good? Huh?"

"It's you," you whimper, pressing the weight of your body deeper down the bed. You want movement, you decide. Friction. To be fucked. "So big ," you praise. "Feels good 'cause you're so big."

"Mhmm?" He teases now. Presses his hips a little tighter to yours. Tries to not let himself get too eager. Too keen. "Fill your tight little cunt so well, don't I?"

But then your walls are squeezing again, and Jeongguk's scared he might just nut right then and there. You just feel so good, and you're warm, and you're safe, and so pretty, and—

" Fuck ," he curses sharply as he yanks himself away from you. Sits back on his heels. Stares down at your slick-covered pussy and has to hold back a whine. "Sorry."

Shaking your head, you bite down on your bottom lip. Hold out your hand. Wait for him to line his cock up, then stroke down his foreskin, gently massaging him.

In the midst of it all, he sort of forgets that you're owed confession. An explicit one, at least.

You're the only thing he can think about. Naturally, his thoughts flitter back and forth. Makes him consider saying something he can't take back—but he isn't ready for that yet. Doesn't think you are, either.

"Gonna take you out after this," he grunts instead, eyes focused on the fingers you've got loosely wrapped around his thick shaft. He's swathed in you; covered in the evidence of your pleasure. "You're gonna dress all pretty. All sparkly."

So focused on the handsome reddening of his hard cock, and the precum you're squeezing from his slit, you almost don't notice the needy little promises he's making.

It's been a while since you heard Jeongguk this pathetic—two whole days, to be exact—so you want to make the most of it.

"Where we gonna go?" you hum, pressing his cock down between your folds. There's no penetration, just the gentle rubbing of his cock against your cunt. It's about now that his hand takes over from you.

"Some overpriced, pretentious restaurant," he shrugs, eyes still on your pussy. He's getting deliberate with the massaging of his cock, now. Makes sure to focus in on your clit. Spreads his pre-cum all over it. "Everyone there is gonna wanna fuck you—but then they'll see me, and they'll know it's my fat cock that'll be fucking itself into you that night."

Jeongguk really needs to get a handle on this whole exhibitionism thing. Fears he'll be arrested by the end of the year for public indecency—but he's supposed to not get a boner? When you look the way you do? Smell the way you do? Are you? Impossible.

And he also knows it's impossible for you to see a bulge in his trousers and not think about getting to your knees, even when you're in public. It's terrible for you both.

Even more terrible is how fucking cute he thinks you are when you giggle at his neediness.

"Oh yeah?" You grin, squeezing at your own chest, thoroughly missing his large hands. It's never as good when it's you doing it. Never. Jeongguk agrees, but he fucking loves the visual. Loves watching you play with yourself. "And what will you be doing while your cock is busy fucking itself into me?"

Gripping his base, Jeongguk slaps the tip of his cock against your clit. Once, twice. Gets your back arching. He repeats. Again, again. Faster, faster.

Until suddenly the aching desire to be filled by him is remedied once more as he sinks himself into your soaked hole, and says, "Be busy telling you how pretty you look."

And he really thinks you are. Thinks your cheeks never look better than when they're flushed with the colour of his adoration. Builds the pace of his thrusts all to achieve that darling blush of yours.

"Tell me now," you beg through hushed moans.

"How pretty you look?"

"Mhmm," you nod, eyes closed. You're breathless as your shoulders push into the mattress, Jeongguk's speed getting you so much closer to heaven—and so you reward him by getting a little needy, too. Tease, "Gimmie that boyfriend experience. Let me try before I buy."

"Boyfriend," he smirks with a bashful shake of his head. Loosens his grip on your waist, his hands now pushing down into your pillows on either side of your head. The chain around his neck catches on your chin. "Would you like that, huh? Like it if I was your boyfriend? Huh? Like it if your boyfriend fucked your needy cunt like it deserves to be fucked?"

"Gguk—"

"I'd do it," he swears. Kisses you, then lets his nose find a home next to yours, cock thrusting so deeply you can't help but moan. "And then I'd tell you what a pretty girlfriend you are. Make you mine." His lips press down into yours. Whisper, "Gorgeous, aren't you? My gorgeous girl."

It's almost embarrassing how tight it gets you.

Even more embarrassing is how he notices it straight away.

"Oh, you do like that," he smirks. You whimper. His cock really is fucking itself into you like no tomorrow. Sweat gathers on Jeongguk's chest. Drips onto yours. It's disgusting. Vulgar. And you want more . Whine. Press your chest up to his. "Yeah? That's it, babe. Such a good girl for me. All mine."

"Not yours yet," you remind him through stifled breaths, as if you didn't basically sign the rights to your heart away on that very first origami bird. May as well have drawn a dotted line. Given him your signature. Sealed it with a glittery, glossy kiss.

"So fuckin' pedantic, B," he grins against your cheek. "If we were together—if you were my girlfriend —I'd kiss you just to shut you up."

It's been a while since you've been anyone's girlfriend. Been a while since you've even wanted that title. Thought it would strip you of your identity all over again—but you've never felt more yourself. Think that Jeongguk's Girlfriend would just be another pretty descriptor, like glittery or stubborn . Not a definer, like Disco Ball, or how it was when you were with Seokjin.

You're both getting ahead of yourselves. Pushing boundaries. Testing limits. Are well aware you haven't reached that stage quite yet, but are having fun with it regardless. Smiling. Giggling. Encouraging.

"If you were my boyfriend," you simper, "I'd let you."

Jeongguk's nose nudges up against yours. "But we're just friends, yeah?"

You reciprocate. "Best Friends."

Jeon Jeongguk thinks you were plucked from the midnight skies and put on this earth for one thing and one thing alone: for him to love.

So, he's unashamed as he whispers, "I'm gonna kiss you, B."

And while he's not your boyfriend, no, you still find yourself nodding as you say, "Please."

Firm as he presses his lips into yours, it's almost easy to forget you're having sex. Not because you can't feel him (quite the opposite), or because you're disinterested, but because your body burns like the heat of a thousand dying stars whenever he kisses you like this.

He's deliberate; lips tightly pressing down, the hard metal of his ring digging into your pout.

There's a softness to his moans; how they vibrate into your mouth and trickle down your throat like cocaine. The high will last so much longer. Be trapped in your system forever. You'll fail every drug test you'll ever take and Jeongguk will be there to apologise with even more narcotic kisses.

He adjusts slightly. Gets his knees on either side of your ass. Pulls back. Grips onto your waist, lifting your lower back and pulling you deeply onto his cock. He's quick as he spits down. Doesn't need any extra help getting you wet, but he just likes doing it. Especially likes how your dainty hands immediately come to rub his spittle against your clit.

Jeongguk grunts as he ruts into you. Nods. "Get yourself off."

Sort of funny, how he removes himself from the equation, as if it's not his cock inside you that's getting you all breathless. One of his hands squeezes at your breasts, enamoured with how they bounce for him. Pinches. Gets you gasping. "Gguk."

He mumbles a reply just in case, but is met with your breathy sighs, telling him his pace is just right. He continues pumping himself into you. Builds speed. Pace. Says, "Taking me so fucking well, baby. Gonna make me cum."

And yet it's you who comes undone first.

"Shit," he curses when he realises the quivering of your tight walls, and the pointing of your toes. Wants to reach it with you. Says, "Eyes on me, baby."

So often closed when you're riding your high, there's something about locking eyes with Jeongguk as you cum. The cataclysmic shudder of your muscles hits so much harder—and yet you can't look away. Not when your moans get so much more laboursome. Not when your legs begin to shake. Not when you begin to writhe so badly that he has to hold you extra tight in order to keep up his pace.

"Me too," he grits, as the sensation builds. "Where—" your legs lock around him to prevent him from finishing the question. " Fuck ."

His body grows a little weak. He's holding it off yet still fucking himself into you like his life depends on it.

"Cum, baby," you beg, all helpless and pathetic, hips continuing to rock up against his. You're riding out an orgasm that is taking hold of your entire body. The speed of your hand against your clit builds. Jeongguk tries to keep his eyes on you, but occasionally they drop to where euphoria blooms in his body. Can't help it. "Need you inside me."

Your moans get squeaky. Jeongguk's pace gets harder. Your walls are tighter, now. More sensitive. More receptive.

"Gguk," you whimper. Whine. Roll your back a little. "I think... Fuck . I'm gonna cum again."

It's been minutes— seconds —but you're overstimulated, and Jeongguk knows exactly how to work body. Spits, again, right down to where you're rubbing yourself.

He nods. Husks, "Me too. Like, half a minute. Keep touching yourself. Keep... Uh, fuck . Keep doing that, baby. Keep..."

You whine his name again. He nods. Takes over from you. Is careless with the precision of his teasing as he alternates between sensually rubbing your clit with flat fingers, and the short, sharp spanks he likes to deliver.

"Gguk..."

"I'm gonna cum, B," he promises. "With me, baby. I know you can do it. Cum on my cock, baby."

The sensation that travels through your body is familiar yet still foreign. Toes numb, it's something you can't control. You hear the change in your friction first; how fucking wet your cunt is as he fucks into it. "Jeongguk—"

Talking is a fruitless endeavour. You just end up whimpering.

The lewdness of the sound intensifies. So does the shaking of your leg. And so does the way you're squirting for him. Soaking that neat patch of hair that he keeps well-groomed for you; greeting the sweet little trail of hair that creeps up towards his belly button.

"That's it," he praises. "All over me. Fuck . You're so fucking hot. So fuh— Oh , fuck ."

He can't hold it off any longer. His balls are tight, chest too. His muscles aren't making things easy for him. He needs the release.

You know it's happening when his grunts get airy. Light.

"All of it," you beg. "Please, baby."

And then he can't fucking' control himself. Jolts his body forward, staggering a little bit as he shoots thick spurts of hot cum into you. It's endless . Ropes and ropes of sperm fill your pussy. Foolish, some would say. Perfect, others would declare.

You think you'd agree with them both.

But right now all you can think about is the way it feels as he slowly pulls out of you. The emptiness is cruel. The way his cum drips from your entrance is even more so.

All you want is to be filled by him permanently, but that's an incredibly dangerous desire.

"Fuck," he curses as he practically collapses beside you. Cares not for the clamminess of your skin as he pulls you in for a hug. Tangles his legs with yours. Kisses your hair. Breathlessly groans, "Tell me that isn't what it should be like. Tell me we aren't right for each other."

You don't.

Instead, you clasp his jaw and pull him in for so many kisses it's hard to discern there was once a time when this was prohibited. Forbidden. Are hungry in the way you devour his lips; lick your tongue into his mouth.

Desperation isn't a new trait of yours. You like the feeling of a little neediness, and the subsequent remedying of it. Have experienced it many times before Jeongguk, and many times with him.

But it's never really been like this.

Before, it's always been about proof. Confirmation that your partner wants you.

Now, it's about proving yourself. You need Jeongguk to know that you want him; that rejection need never be feared.

And you think you've done a well-enough job when he whispers, "I wanna be with you, B."

You both know the end goal. Are familiar with the concept of an endgame. Both fully intend on being one another's.

But there are different rules when it comes to relationships. New boundaries. Expectations.

Naively, you've always thought it was the lack of expectations that made you and Jeongguk work. Fear that alterations in these will change the very fabric of your 'friendship.'

Jeongguk shrugs into your sheets when you take a moment to consider his words. Rolls onto his back, both hands on his own chest. There's a subtle rise and fall to his chest; his lungs keeping him alive. He knows that's the mechanics of it all. A heart that beats. Veins that carry blood.

You find yourself missing his touch almost immediately; longing for a man who lays beside you. Pining for your parallel. Pulling on his arm closest to you, there's no resistance from Jeongguk as you tuck yourself beneath it, head resting on his chest.

Skin smooth, there's a musk to his scent in the wake of your sex. Part of you wishes you could just bottle it up and wear it like perfume. Think there's no greater blessing for a nose than Jeon Jeongguk. Cherries are nice, and cotton is always favourable, but they'll never match him. Not ever.

"We'll never know if we don't try," Jeongguk softly hums when you fail to articulate a response, the tips of his fingers stroking down your arm. There's a vulnerability to his big brown eyes, and the way they're focusing on the movements of hands. "But I can't keep this up if I can't have you."

"What do you mean?"

His eyes flicker down to yours ever so briefly.

"I like things as they are," he admits. Tries not to think too hard. Doesn't wanna trip up on his words. "I like how much time we spend together, the things we do. I'm not asking for things to change, hugely. Just wanna hold your hand in public. Shit like that."

He also wants to wear a satin fucking sash that reads 'I'm dating my best friend. Back off.' for the entire world to see, but thinks that might be a bit much.

"Well, maybe things should change," you suggest.

"In what way?"

"Maybe we should date," you say. " Properly . Maybe we should start at zero and work our way up. It's too comfortable otherwise, isn't it?"

"Is comfortable not good?" He grumbles into your crown, as if he's not the one holding you close. He can play offended all he likes, but you know it's just a ruse.

"It is," you admit, lips brushing the firm muscles of his chest as you speak. "I'm just scared we'll get it wrong. Don't wanna lose this, Gguk."

"Well, I don't wanna lose it either," he says, punctuating his statement with a tiny kiss in your hair. "If we're agreed, then there's no issue, surely?"

Surely . Things will work out, surely .

But you've been sure of things in the past that haven't ended well. Once were sure of Seokjin, just like Jeongguk once was sure of Hayun.

You're not drawing comparisons, but you are painfully aware of how much sex can fool you into thinking things are as they're supposed to be.

He lets you slip from his grip and welcomes you onto his lap as you change your position.

Straddling across him, you're not shy as you sink your chest down. A hand keeps you supported by his head as the other finds its home at the base of his neck. You're met with a kiss as soon as you bring yourself close enough, your loose hair tickling at his cheeks.

There's a subtle grind to your hips. One that he's encouraging.

"Take me out," you mumble into his lips. "On a date. Take me on a date."

"Yeah?" He questions. Ruts his hips up against you. Neither of you are ready to go again, but both of you like to toy with the idea of it.

"Yeah," you say, pulling back. Get his eyes on yours. "We'll do it old school. Five date rule."

Now, if you were thinking with much logic, you'd have said 'three date rule', 'cause how the fuck you'll go for that long without shagging Jeongguk is a conundrum you don't want to solve.

"Five..." he husks, kissing down your throat. Raises your body slightly with the encouragement of his strong hands. Gets your chest in his face, right where wants it. Latches onto your nipple and sucks it into his mouth. Moans, as you grip onto your headboard with a wanton sigh. He shakes his head. Manipulates your body. Sucks harder. Releases you, then says, "I can't do five dates without fucking you."

"You can," you promise as he manoeuvres to get your other tit in his mouth. Whine, before saying, "Five dates is nothing."

Even you don't believe that—but are too distracted by Jeongguk reaching down to rub small circles on your pussy to give it too much thought.

"Fuck," you whine.

"See," he mumbles against the soft skin of your boobs, slowly licking around your hardened bud. "You'll die if you can't fuck me."

Truthfully, he's the one most likely to suffer from that fate.

His seduction is working, though. When he's like this, you know you'll fold—so you pull back. Grab his hands and clasp them together on his chest. Are greeted with the sweetest, cheekiest smile. He knows he's been caught out.

"I'll be fine," you laugh, sharing your smile with him. "But I won't be fine if I'm naked around you all the time."

"You should be naked around me all the time."

"I'm sure Jimin would love that," you joke sarcastically.

"Let's face it, B, he probably would."

"Shut up," you say, rolling your eyes, smile ever present, then get back to the topic at hand. "Date me without the sex. It's important. We might find out we're not compatible."

"If we're not compatible then what the fuck are?" He laughs, a little disbelieving that a scenario like that could ever exist.

"Dunno," you shrug. "Horny?"

"True."

"Five dates," you reinforce, clambering off him, leaving a cute little trail of excitement on his tummy.

The air chills it quickly, but Jeongguk loves the way it feels. Always used to insist on showers straight away after sex with previous partners, but never feels inclined with you. Wants to wear your sex like a badge of honour. Something primal, he's sure. Wants your pheromones on him. Wants other men to stay the fuck away. Wants you his.

Pulling his shirt over your frame and hiding away the body that Jeongguk just seems to go feral for, you're a little sad to be drawing a line in the sand. It's reinforced when you grab a fresh pair of underwear that you already know will be ruined by the current state of your pussy, but needs must.

Taking a seat by your desk, you pull your knee up to your chin, your foot on the pad of your chair.

"This all started 'cause I needed to separate intimacy from sex," you remind him. "But we've had, like, a lot of sex—"

"Really good sex."

"A lot of really good sex," you grin, nodding, stars in your eyes. On your cheeks. In your heart.

You're about to continue your reasoning, but there's no need. Jeongguk's being a little difficult, but he understands. He knows why this is important. Why it's needed.

He sits up on his elbows, torso cutely creasing. Knocks his head to the side, undone hair falling over his eyes before he shakes it away. "Alright. Let's do this."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Date me."

"Ask nicely."

Jeongguk pauses for a moment. Rolls his eyes with a fond smile. Nods toward his jeans that are crumpled up beside your bed. Says, "Back pocket."

Narrowing your eyes, his grin prevails as you follow his command. There's an intimacy with him telling you to rummage through his clothes. No secrets hidden.

None, except the writing inscribed on the tiny bird Jeongguk had crafted that very morning.

A bemused smile settles on your lips as you pull it from the denim, brow cocked, curiosity being projected towards him.

And so he just says, "Read it."

Though he might be a hell of a lot braver than he was when you first met, there are still things that make him sweat. Sometimes, it helps to have a hand to hold, or a bird to do your dirty work. He uses them as crutches. They hold up words he wishes to say but isn't sure he has the voice to articulate them.

Slow as you unfold it, you take just a glance before you recognise the paper.

"When did you—"

"Just open it, Byeol."

You shouldn't be nervous. Not really. You've opened up so many birds by this point that it shouldn't even concern you.

Things are changing, though. The fears you once faced thanks to the birds have been overwritten. The things that scare you now are not of what you could gain, but of what you could lose, instead.

And that just feels far more daunting.

Still, you do as he says. Slow with the movements of your fingers, your eyes don't leave his. There's anticipation on his expression; cosmic eyes wide, bottom lip tightly tucked beneath his teeth.

As you look back across to him—naked beneath your sheets, and everything you've ever wanted—you can't help but feel smitten. Luck has evaded you in recent years, until Jeongguk waltzed into your life like a triple seven.

"Was always gonna ask you out," he mumbles, fighting the smile that wants to shine like a full moon. Gives in. "Dumbass."

The way you smile towards him is shy. Tiny paper bird still in hand, you clamber back into the bed with him. Get yourself in the exact same position you'd just left. Sink into a thousand kisses. Because you want to. Because you can.

"Can't believe you're actually asking me on a date. So weird. Gross."

It'd be believable, if you weren't giggling.

Would be even more convincing, if you weren't showering him with so many kisses he might die—but also knows he'll perish if you ever stop.

"Disgusting isn't it?" he says during a small pause in kisses, but his question remains unanswered, for your lips find his once more. Tongue. Teeth. All consuming. God, he'll never tire of this. He does, however, teasingly say, "Thought you said we gotta wait five dates?"

It's a question he'll grow to regret incredibly soon. One final kiss is planted on his cheek, before you pull away to give him space—but he immediately drags you back. Doesn't kiss you. Just nudges his nose up against yours.

"Never wanted anyone like this before, B," he husks. The light, playfulness of his flirt is replaced with something far weightier, and now you really do want to kiss him. Not floaty, or feathery like how you were, but deep and cumbersome; complex in your silent confessions. "Five date rule is fine. I'll wait."

"Gonna miss you," you mumble into his lips.

"Gonna miss you more," he promises. "But you're right. Trial run makes sense."

Foolishly, you both agree that if you are to find yourselves romantically incompatible, not having sex during the dates will somehow magically save the friendship—as if it's not already utterly destroyed and rebuilt with the necessity of sex.

It's not a bad thing. Not in the slightest. It's also not the only component, but it is how you connect. 

Physical touch. Quality time. Acts of service. Words of affirmation. Gift giving. The love languages are all wrapped up into the way in which you fuck one another. S'why it was foolish for you to ever think you wouldn't fall for one another.

It's curious to consider if you would have reached this stage had it not been for the sex, but it also doesn't matter. What if's and alternate realities are meaningless, for this is your reality. 

This is what matters. You. Him. Now. Nothing else.

You were a shooting star that very first night in Dionysus, and Jeongguk was making wishes.

Took a little time to reach fruition, but it's kinda his fault for not being specific with his desires. For shunning them. Shutting them down. The universe still worked her magic, regardless.

Because in every reality there is one constant: Jeongguk falls in love with a star.

And in this reality, his star falls in love with him, too.

Mind you, he did make a mistake. You were never a shooting star.

You were a falling one.

Landed right where you were meant to.

It's agreed that one final shower shall be taken. One last chance to belong to each other, before you can accurately say that you do . One final time for things to be as they were. As they have been.

Pressed to the titles, bodies wet, hair sticking to skin and no care given for the actual process of showering, you don't stop kissing him. His evident arousal is ignored, and he makes no exploration of your body.

Maybe it's a waste. You're giving one another a mutually exclusive hook-up hall pass before it's revoked, and yet neither of you wish to leave the safety of sweet innocence.

It's so stupid, you think, how you can't resist one another. Weak-willed. You're so turned on that you're quite literally dripping. Are convinced that you'd come undone with even just a soft stroke of his thumbs across your hardened nipples.

Still, Jeongguk only kisses you.

Wraps you up in a towel once the water is cut off. Laughs with you about nonsense as he delays his departure from your apartment. Knows he can't stay, 'cause all he wants is to let his feelings manifest physically.

But there's a five date rule.

He's gotta get on with it.

"So..." He elongates his hesitation as he stands by your apartment door. Hands in his pockets, he shuffles a little nervously.

"So," you reply, just to be annoying. Dressed in your own clothes for once, neither of you really wants to say goodbye.

Jeongguk knows it will be easier if he has guaranteed 'hello' lined up.

"Pick you up at seven?"

"Seven," you nod, trying to be coy. To play it cool. To act as if the glitter on your skin isn't the only part of you that's sparkly.

Your heart is shining. Feels brand new. Polished to perfection by a pair of tattooed hands, kissed back to life by pretty pink lips and an equally shiny lip ring.

"It's a date," he nods, then turns to walk away, 'cause he's trying to play it cool, too, and knows as soon as he can, he'll be giggling to himself.

You let him go. Don't call him back for any stupid remarks, or idiotic giggles. Just press your door shut as soon as he's out of vision and wait.

One, two, three, four... and then you can't hold it in any longer. You have to squeal. Run on the spot, happy hands clapping together with zero control from your brain. You're a delirious mess of smiles and sunshine—quite the change to your usual starry self.

It's so stupid, being like this. It's just Jeongguk.

But that's exactly why it's so exciting: It's Jeongguk .

You're going on a date with Jeon fucking Jeongguk.

Oh, it's so ridiculous.

Ridiculous, and exciting, and stupid. Fated, and futile, and fantastic all at the same time.

A giddy excitement takes hold of you, like you've just scored tickets for the Era's tour, or scratched off a winning lucky draw. You think your heart might stop at one point. Have to lie down. Decide that the middle of the living room floor is the best place for it.

"Holy shit," you whisper, eyes on the empty white ceiling above you.

The nothingness makes way for projection; memories of him playing out in front of you. The subtle raise of his lips—left side first, then the right as it evens out—when he smirks. How his lip ring flips. Does the thing. The pressure of his aforementioned ring as he ghosts his lip across your skin.

But then you're thinking of Dionysus; how his eyes shine even in the dark. That first peek of his snake tattoo escaping his sleeve. How badly you wanted to see the whole thing. How much shock you'd been in seeing him shirtless for the first time.

Strange to think you've traced fingers up it now. Gotten glitter in the fine lines. Have kissed every single evidence of ink on his skin; every single freckle, too.

So maybe it is silly to chalk this up as just a date with your best friend.

He's many things to you. A confidant. A shoulder to cry on. A hand to hold. A lover. Someone with whom to banter, and someone with whom to silently exist. He wears many hats in this friendship with you.

Rolling onto your front, you're feline in the way your arms outstretch. The flooring is hardwood, and uncomfortable, but you enjoy the complexities of feeling it against your bones. Head tilting to rest on your upper arm, you don't bother to move when you hear the code being tapped in for your apartment.

"What's wrong with the sofa?" Danbi asks as she tosses her bag down. Had only gone to Taehyung's for a few hours before he needed to get on with some work for his upcoming show.

"Was stretching," you lie, though you really do need to click your back. Jeongguk's fault.

Danbi has a vague understanding of the birds. Has never been told about them in any explicit nature, but you're girls. You talk. Share.

And so you simply nod towards the tiny one left by Jeongguk. Are certain that he wouldn't mind you sharing it with her. You don't offer up any additional explanation.

She reads it aloud without much thought. "Ask B on a... Oh my god."

"Yep."

"Jeongguk?!"

"Yep."

"A DATE?!"

"Oh my God!"

"I KNOW!"

"When?!"

"Tonight—"

"Tonight?!" She almost cries. "What time?"

"Seven—"

"Holy shit, get off the floor woman!" Danbi laughs. "It's already six!"

"Oh, balls."

The afternoon had gotten away with you, time with Jeongguk moving at rapid speed. It always does. Too much is never enough, or so it would seem.

When he'd suggested seven, you'd blindly agreed. Asked for no details. Was only really thinking about seeing him again.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't know."

"What are you doing?"

"...Don't know."

"Dress code?"

"Not given."

"Oh my God," she laughs. Comes to stand by you and taps you with her foot. "Okay, to your bedroom. Let's find you an outfit. You don't need to impress him 'cause I've never seen anyone so deliriously in denial about their feelings, but you should still look nice."

Narrowing your eyes, you're fighting a smile. Can't really help it. Is sort of validating, hearing Danbi say stuff like that, now you know it to be true.

"I wasn't planning on looking like shit," you assure her, rolling over and getting to your feet with far less grace than your pole instructor would be happy with.

"Well yeah, but you guys are SO comfortable with one another," she calls back from your room. "It's easy to forget it's a first date. To the nines, or not at all."

Easy, you think. Dress to the nines for your triple seven boy.

" Reeks of sex," Danbi grimaces, pushing your bedroom window open. "You two are animals , I swear to God."

"Oh fuck off," you laugh, all loopy in the way you smile and flop onto your bed, regardless of the fact you know pulling the duvet back would reveal just how fucking disgusting you and Jeongguk can be—but it's human . It's you, and it's him, and it's what you were made for. "You're just as bad."

But what's so 'bad' about intimacy? Belonging?

You'll tease each other endlessly, but realistically, all you are is happy for one another.

"Not the point," she grins, rummaging through the hangers on your clothing rail, tossing options over to you. "Text him. Get a dress code."

"But I—"

"Shut up," she laughs. "Don't act all nervous, you idiot. It's just Jeongguk. He won't care that you're texting him."

And yet nervous is all you are by the time seven rolls around, and a knock sounds at your door. Danbi hides behind the sofa. You panic for a moment. She shoos you to the door.

It's funny, how as soon as your eyes lock with his, all of that just seems to melt away.

"Hey," you smile.

He nods. Bites down on his bottom lip.

"Hey, B."

[fairlyang]

Ghostie II 🕷️

in which you get paid a visit by ghostface

w/c: 7.6K

pairing: ghostface!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut, mention of stalking, obsessiveness, murder, blood. knife play (?), teasing, fingering, fucks you dumb, breeding

part one ~ part three

It was the next morning and I was having brunch with a few of my friends while they were talking about what happened at the party. I was zoning out, my mind only focused on one thing, or rather one person...

And there was no way in hell I would tell them what I got up to-

I literally wouldn't even be able to explain how it happened- because I really just got lucky... plus it's fucking embarrassing how fast I folded.....

Which should be expected of me, I mean they all know how much I love that series but they don't know I've always wanted to be a victim of Ghostface... not to get killed but to see if I could escape. Flirt my way out. Though I ended up getting something better from getting that infamous phone call.

They would turn my confession into a fucking lecture... and I mean I technically don't know what he looks like, and for all I know he could've told me a  fake name. Plus it's not like I helped him cover up a murder or anything, if anything I prevented him from killing anyone because there wasn't any news that he killed anyone last night. He said he had things to attend to, but soon as I woke up and checked the news on the tv, there was nothing.

So maybe, just maybe having phone sex with Ghostface... saved some lives...

My thoughts get cut short when Ryan nudges my side and gives me a side eye to pay attention to our friend Val. I shrug and take a bite of the last of my pancakes looking across the booth to look at the brunette and try to catch up on whatever she was rambling on about.

"Les digo, he wanted me so fucking badly!!" she exclaims and I snort. (I'm telling you)

"Te estaba dando los ojos toda la noche wey-" Ryan says and I burst out laughing. (he was giving you those eye all night bitch)

"Como debe de- I saw what you wore Val, it shouldn't be so surprising..." I compliment and give her a wink. (as he should)

She waves me off and I point a finger at her, raising an eyebrow. "No menti weya." I say and she laughs. (I didn't lie bitch)

"Anyways, what's got you ignoring my chisme huh?" she teases and I bite my lip. (gossip/tea)

What kind of lie would be believable.....

"I'm just tired..." I lied and shrug, "I went to sleep late finishing the screams movies-"

"Bitch again!?!" Ryan blurts out and I hold back a laugh.

"Yeah, what else would I rather be doing?" I say and shake my head at the double entendres.

"Literally partying with us..." our other friend, Ella, says and I laugh.

"As if, Gho-"

"Do not fucking start. Ghostface didn't make a appearance and we all survived! Maybe parties are a new exception to the rules." Val cuts me off and I give her a playful glare.

"Well still I just had the urge to stay home, plus my mom said if I went out she'd kill me instead." I say and shrug not wanting to elaborate.

"Y'know what, that's fair-" Ella starts before getting cut off by Val.

"In what world is Ghostface gonna mess with a Mexican mom. Our moms are built different, with one look he'd be a goner." She says making me laugh.

"As if our Ghostface would be kind enough for that." I respond and grab my cup of coffee taking a sip.

"Y'know the odds of Ghostface being Mexican are very high..." Val trails on with a knowing smirk and I raise an eyebrow.

Oh now we're talking....

My dumbass hadn't even thought about that....

We are in a mainly Mexican filled town.....

"Now you're gonna give this bitch even more sick ideas." Ryan says with an exaggerated groan and motions his head to me.

I snicker and shrug, "Maybe I already have 'em." I say playfully, knowing deep down it's far too late.

"I mean imagine, what if it's someone we know- or oh my god what if it was someone at the party last night?!?" Val exclaims excitedly making me bite my lip.

"I don't think it'd be someone we know..." I trail on unsure of how to continue.

"Why not?" Ella asks cocking an eyebrow.

I shrug and chuckle, "We don't know any psychopaths."

"Besides you-" Ryan blurts out and I turn around to punch his arm.

"Fuck off." I snarl and shake my head. I'm not that bad....

"Well then who do you think it could be?" Val asks putting her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her hand, looking at me intently.

I bite my lip and think. I literally had no fucking clue- I'd never heard his voice before because if I have, I would never, ever forget it. His voice was so attractive, enticing. It scratched a part of my brain and heart strings, just beautifully. If his voice was enough for me to have two full body shaking orgasms, then what if his-

My dirty thoughts get cut short when I hear an all too familiar voice and I groan. "It's been a while since I last joined you guys."

I look up to see my irritating cheating ex standing next to our table and I roll my eyes. "Yeah and for good reason." I snarl and I feel Ryan trying to grab my hand to keep my calm.

"Don't be like that, I know you've missed me." He says with the most obnoxious tone.

"No one has missed you actually, and we all wish you were dead!" Val blurts out making me snicker.

"What she said! You made your cake Jose, now eat it, and choke on it." I snarl and glare at him.

He huffs and tries to act all macho, when Ella grabs her butter knife and pokes him on his side then motions to the door behind us. The look she gave him was surprisingly terrifying and thankfully enough for him to scoff then storm off. I heard the ding of the door ring and I sigh, thank god that he was a little bitch knowing my friends wouldn't hesitate to do shit. "Thanks." I mumble and shake my head in disbelief.

"I don't understand how he thinks he can cheat on you with multiple women then think it's fine and come crawling back-"

"Val-"

"He's a dickhead!! Un pinche maldito que no merece nada-" she says and I hold a finger up. (A fucking asshole that doesn't deserve shit-)

"Thank you- it's fine, I'm good. I might need a restraining order though, I'm tired of his bullshit." I groan and the girls give me an apologetic smile while Ryan wraps his arm around my shoulder and I lean into him.

"Fuck these crazy assholes." He mutters and I snicker.

"One of us always ends up with one of those." I mumble and Ella scoffs. "God why do we have such terrible taste-"

"No- the men we choose are hot, they just end up being horrible human beings." Val cuts in and I shrug.

"Hot and crazy is a dangerous combo." Ryan says and fake shivers.

"That's our group's type though." Ella responds making him shake his head.

"Not me! Y'all stay safe though!" He exclaims with a laugh and lets me go.

Suddenly Val gasps and nudges Ella's side and gives her a knowing look to probably someone behind us. They whisper at each other and make faces I knew way all too well making me smirk.

Val snaps her fingers at me and motions behind me, "But don't make it obvious." she whispers giving me wide eyes, and I scoff.

"Like that wasn't obvious enough." I mutter and she rolls her eyes.

"Or wait hold on." Ella says and takes her phone out, motioning for Ryan and I to get closer together.

I snicker and Val shushes me, "Bitch-"

I lift my hands up in defense and lean my head against Ryan's. I stick my tongue out and make a peace sign. Ella took many pictures and then hands us her phone. I lower her brightness a bit and hold the phone below the table for the both of us to see, Ryan immediately gasps and I almost squeal.

There was a man a couple feet behind Ryan and I in line to order, and lord-

He had longish dark hair, tall as hell, and was overall huge. His shoulders were very broad, big biceps under the tight fitting black shirt he wore, and those pecs- He had the body of a literal Greek God, I couldn't help but zoom in the picture making Ryan gasp again. "Oh he can top me-"

"Bitch be quiet, nos va escuchar-" I say and bite my lip to stop myself from bursting out laughing. (he's gonna hear us)

"Bro that's the type of man my mom wants me to bring home-" Ella says and looks behind us at the mysterious man with crazy eyes.

"A man like that is not single-" Val mutters, shaking her head.

"I wouldn't mind being the side bitch-" Ryan says and turns his head to look behind us.

I stay still because these bitches may as well have been drooling on the table. I guess I couldn't blame them, that man was the definition of the word, fine. I look at the other pictures she took and widen my eyes. He was so hot.

They were bickering at each other and I moved my hair behind my ears preparing to try to hear his voice since he was definitely getting near the register based on how far Val and Ella's necks were stretched out. Then I was barely able to faintly hear some Spanish....

We all turn to look at each other and I bite my lip. "I volunteer-" Ryan says about to standup when I pull him down.

"No-" I was about to say but the other two talked at the same time.

"I want him-"

"Lo quiero coquetear!" (I wanna flirt with him!)

Val and Ella turn to each other with the wildest glares I've ever seen. "Cálmense- we as a group have never fought for a man why the fuck would we do so now?" I say quietly and roll my eyes. (Calm down)

"Wey pero lo viste-" Ella says sounding almost annoyed. (bitch but you saw him)

"I know but still-" I say and Val scoffs.

I turn to Ryan and he just shrugs, "I mean I'm out- odds of a man that hot, being gay are low. Low as hell."

I sigh and turn to the girls as they're both looking right at me. "Calm down- take deep breaths." I say and chuckle.

"Acting like fucking high schools girls-" i mutter and snicker.

"Wey that the finest man I've been seen-"

"I need him-"

I groan and shake my head, this was going nowhere. Suddenly both their eyes went to the left of my head and I hear the ding of the door.

And he's gone.

I look out the window as he passed by and he had parked right in front of the window we were by. I bite my lip and peep at him, silently gawking as I felt Ryan by my shoulder as he was also trying to take a look. "Damn."

"I know." I mutter and watch as he unlocks his car.

My breath catches in my throat as he opens the door, the short sleeves of his shirt just getting eaten up by those muscles- he wasn't even flexing but his bicep was just shaped like that, luckily for my curious eyes.

I swallow and watch as he goes inside, placing the bag of his food on the passenger seat before closing the door. I quickly look away, onto the street, the trees anything but him. Holy-

"Act normal bitch." Ryan snarls and I roll my eyes.

"Dude he definitely felt that-"

"Jesus looks at his pecs-" he practically moans in my ear and I grimace turning to look at him.

"Bitch stop fucking drooling on me." I say playfully and he backs off letting out a huff.

I turn back to look and he was still there. Just sitting in his car looking down at his phone. Interesting. Then I looked at his face, he had a long nose, pretty eyes from a far, light pink lips. He was gorgeous. Suddenly a smirk forms on his lips and I widen my eyes. Oh he knows.

I feel my face flush and I look at Val, embarrassed even though I didn't get directly caught. She was looking at him too, her face almost smushed against the window. I shake my head and take a deep breath. It's just a stranger. Odds are I won't ever see him again.

I look again, assuming it'd be the last time I ever look at the handsome stranger and I was surprised to see him look up and make eye contact as soon as I turned. I hold my breath and feel a shiver go down my spine, nervously holding his gaze.

I hear Val and Ella complaining and groaning but I simply ignore them, still looking at him. How could I not?

I wasn't even blinking, I was so captivated, like I was in a trance and couldn't look away. Just something about him...

I felt my cheeks getting warm and I bite my lip, I felt so nervous, excited?

He was already leaving anyway and what's a little staring contest gonna do? Only gonna live rent free in my wet dreams because I've never had someone staring at me so intensely while still doing it respectfully and not in a creepy way.

Though I guess me already thinking of the wet dreams is creepy.... But he's probably thinking normally, maybe I'm pretty. Maybe.

Suddenly he smiles then nods his head at me, I nod back biting my lip to stop my own smile from escaping. He smirks and I slightly widen my eyes, god.

Then he nods again and reverses back and drives off probably never to be seen again. I blink at the spot he just was and sigh turning to look at my friends again. Val's mouth was wide open and Ella looked at me with an impressed look on her face.

I look to my right and look at Ryan with a wide grin on his face as he pokes at my side, "Ya ganaste." He says and I laugh. (You won)

"He only looked at me." I say and wave him off.

"I hate you." Val says playfully and I giggle.

"So the bill?" Ella says making me check the time on my phone. Damn we've been here a while.

"Ugh we've never seeing that man again-" Val mutters as she goes through her purse to take out some cash.

I sigh, sad that's it's true, and the fact that I didn't even get to talk to him, flirt, or even catch his name. I grab my purse from my lap and take out a ten dollar bill from my wallet and place it on the table. "What can we do?"

"Surely we can find him on insta-" Ryan says and is typing away on his phone.

"Bitch we didn't even get a single word to him- we don't even know his damn name." I say and Ryan scoffs.

"I've dealt with even less." He mumbles making me giggle.

"Well good luck with that." I respond and let out a chuckle.

He looks up from his phone and slides out of the booth. He takes out a bill and places it down. "Well I'll let you girlies know if I find him." He says blowing us kisses and walks away.

I shake my head and slide out and stand up as the girls do the same. "I'll catch you guys on Monday." I tell them and give each a quick hug.

"I hope Ryan finds him...." Val mumbles and I nod.

"He's a true detective, I'm sure he'll be calling us within a few hours." I reply and Ella laughs.

"Maybe before we even get home." She teases making me grin.

We say our final goodbyes and I walk out of the diner, heading towards my car wondering if I'll ever see that stranger again

It was nighttime and I was in my room laying down on my bed aimlessly scrolling on my phone when I get a text from Ryan. He texted our groupchat and I quickly click on the message and unlock my phone.

I burst out laughing and shake my head in disbelief. He actually found it.

Ryan🤞🏼

Alright girlies I found it but I kinda wanna gatekeep....

Bitch you better fucking tell us

I hit send and roll my eyes, why the fuck would he put his detective skills to the test, actually find it and not want to share? So fucked up-

Val 💅🏼

If you don't send that shit right fucking now....

I then see that Ryan sent a audio message and it was three seconds of him just laughing, screeching. I roll my eyes and sigh.

I get out of bed and walk into my bathroom to get a hair tie. I open the cabinet above the sink and get two to put my hair in some braids.

I walk out putting the hair ties on my wrist and then plop back down to my bed.

3 new messages.

I unlock my phone and go back to the group chat.

Ella🫶🏼

Ryan send that shit right fucking now!!!! I need to stalk

Ryan🤞🏼

Fine it's mig.ohara

Val💅🏼

SPRINTING

I go to insta and quickly type in the @ and widen my eyes. He actually did it- he found it-

But his name is Miguel?

Suddenly I hear a noise coming from my closet. What in the fuck-

My eyes immediately dart over there as I felt my breathing get heavier and I bite my lip, shit.

I gulp, dropping my phone onto my bed as I try to get up from my bed as quietly as I can, and take slow steps towards my closet. I mentally start praying, you never know what goes on in a Ghostface's head. Just because we had fun last night maybe he changed his mind and I'm next on his list. But how the hell did he get here so quickly??

I grab the little doorknob and pull it to the side, quickly. Nothing.

I let out a breath and try to calm myself down. I might just be getting more crazy, delusional, yeah surely that's it.

I close the door, letting go of the doorknob and turn around taking a step forward only to be met with a tall figure, in all black. I look up seeing the familiar mask and start to feel a small twinge of fear.

My eyes were wide and I was frozen, here I was thinking all along I'd be bad ass as a victim and here I was actually a bit scared...

He suddenly moves his hand up along with a sharp knife and points it at my face, not yet touching me. I gulp and stare at the point of the knife then up at his mask where his eyes are.

I hear him laugh while he shakes his head and with his other hand he takes his mask off. I didn't even bother gasping, quickly putting the pieces together. "Your friend ruined my special reveal to you." He says through gritted teeth then he takes a step forward making me step back and hit my back against the wall.

"Don't worry angelita, I'm not mad at you, you didn't know." He says softly and I feel my breathing calm down a bit. (Little angel)

The change of his tone had my brain all over the place, he sounded so sweet-

I look at the same stranger I saw earlier, remember how enticing his eyes were, how I found myself feeling so attracted to him but not knowing why. Definitely not expecting him to be the man that called me last night. The same one I had phone sex with. "You're such a smart girl without even realizing it baby." He coos and drops his mask to the floor, then softly cups my cheek making me melt into his touch.

I felt all kinds of butterflies, and fireworks in my stomach going wild. I was anticipating his next move and trying not to think of last night considering I'll get turned on too quickly..

My eyes were staring deeply into his and that look he was giving me was almost enough for me to drop to my knees. He was looking down at me, his pupils dilated, eyes filled with lust. I bite my lip and subconsciously squeezed my thighs, he slowly leans down making me feel so small.

He was huge, I knew that from seeing him earlier but up close it was crazy, it made my arousal start to grow thinking of him on top of me-

"I just couldn't wait to see you." He whispers and brings the knife down putting it into his robe pocket making me remember it was in front of my face in the first place.

My heart was racing out of pure excitement as I think of something clever to say but instead he wraps his arms around my waist and closes the gap between us. My hands went to his chest and I nervously put them on his shoulders making his body instantly relax. "Gonna be a good girl for me tonight as well angel?" He murmurs and gingerly leaves a kiss on my cheek, it instantly heating up.

I nod and feel my eyes already fluttering from the extremely close proximity, his lips were mere inches away from mine. My gaze goes from looking up at his eyes to down at his plump pink lips, subconsciously licking my own lips. "Use your words muñeca." He whispers making me look back up at his pretty crimson eyes. (Doll)

I felt a shiver go down my spine as soon as he opened his mouth, thighs squeezed again, mouth dry, and he's only cupped my cheek-

"I'll be a good girl for you Ghostie." I breathe out and he lets out a groan before kissing me as soon as I spoke the given nickname.

His hands went down to tightly grip my waist, as if I'd want to escape. I move my hands up behind his neck and kiss back with the same intensity as him, hungry and eager.

I felt the flush of my cheeks grow warmer as I felt his hands roughly roam my body, pulling on my hair, then suddenly smacking my ass making me moan.

He then slides his tongue into my mouth exploring every crevice as I feel his hands grope my ass leaving me a breathless mess already. He pulls away making me pout but his lips kissed down my cheek to my jaw then slowly down my neck making my breathing become unsteady.

He left open mouthed kisses all over until he decided on a spot and harshly sucked on my skin, definitely leaving a nasty bruise for me tomorrow. My hands went up and gripped his hair as I tilt my head back to give him more access.

He licked, sucked, kissed, and bruised my neck until he finally pulled away making me let go of him and he takes a look at what I'm wearing.

Almost identical to what I wore last night, a long tee shirt with panties. It wasn't on purpose but just what was most comfortable to sleep in but that look in his eye told me he didn't care.

He gave me the most animalistic look I'd ever been given in my life, it was like a predator looking at his prey. I bite my lip as he looks me up and down but his gaze mainly stays at my legs, or thighs I couldn't exactly tell. Either way I'm sure he'd mark up both.

Suddenly he grabs my hand and quickly leads me over to my bed making me giggle at how eager he was. He stopped at the side of my bed and he grabbed my neck and pulled in for another kiss but this one was more gentle, almost loving.

I kissed him back gently and brought a hand up to cup his cheek, his skin was warm and soft under my touch. I still found it so hard to believe I was doing this as we were kissing. I was chosen- he picked me-

An idea quickly came to mind and as soon as it did I pulled away now making him pout and whine. I gave him a sweet smile and then slowly brought myself down, gawking a little at his body as I went down until I got to my knees and I look up at him with innocent little eyes.

He groaned and drew his head back as I lifted up his robe above his waistline. He looked back down at me and took hold of the robe for me while I undid his pants. I pulled the zipper down then brought the pants down his legs.

My eyes went wide at his bulge, and the fact that it was already leaking of precum, practically throbbing against his boxers. My mouth was already salivating when I reached up to gently stroke it through his boxers making him grunt.

I grin and in one swift motion pull his boxers down making his cock spring up to his stomach. I gasped as I pulled the rest down his thighs, he was so thick.

I look up at him then at his dripping cock and grab it softly before licking the precum off his tip slowly. I look up at him and his eyes were shut, that being enough motivation for me, I kissed it then collected saliva in my mouth before spitting it all onto him.

I slowly begin to stroke him, making sure my saliva covered every inch as it slowly trailed down. I continue looking up at him and his eyes were fluttering already, his face was red and his chest was heaving.

I squeezed my thighs together feeling myself now getting wet just from his reaction alone. I stroke him a bit harder but keeping a slow enough pace for him to want more. He finally looked down at me, his eyes boring into mine as I stroked his dick, the only sounds in the room being his now wet cock and my hand along with his low breaths.

I wanted to hear him moan so badly.

I open my mouth and stick my tongue out and slap the tip on my tongue a couple times which earned me a groan from him. I smiled up at him and he shook his head making me kissing his tip again. "No juegues c-conmigo-" he says breathless and a hand reaches down to grab my hair. (Don't play w-with me)

I giggle and nod, "fine."

I grab the bottom of his shaft and slowly start to take him in my mouth. Not only was he thick, but he was also long, so it was harder than what I had anticipated but I still tried my best.

I was barely halfway when he bucks his hips making me forcefully take more, not enough to make me gag but enough for me to be shocked.

I breathe through my nose and pull my head up then back down. He was very patient and even let out an apologetic moan actually looking like he meant it. I repeat the motion a couple times until I decided I wanted to try taking more.

I go down all the way until I can feel his happy trail tickling my nose then I move my head back then back down making him let out a loud moan.

His hands made a ponytail out of my hair and slowly moved his hips while I stopped moving to let him fuck my face a bit. He did it nice and slow, clearly looking like he was enjoying seeing me like this, considering he couldn't hold eye contact because his eyes kept closing.

I lightly tapped his thigh as a sign for him to move and he did. He was still going slow and gently held my hair for me to stay still.

He then did one thrust down my throat making me gag but he quickly pulled back and fucked my mouth at a decent pace but not yet fucking my throat.

I felt tears form in my eyes as he went a bit faster now making sure he pushed more of himself down my mouth and into my throat.

He was moving faster now the tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat with each thrust. I closed my eyes and just let him go at it knowing I might barely be able to take it.

His grip on my hair was harder now and his thrusts became more sloppy, slightly slowing down a bit as he let out bundles of moans and groans. "Good girl- you're taking it so good baby."

I squeezed my thighs together to create some kind of friction as my pussy was getting needier by the second of hearing his moans.

His legs began to shake and his hips slowed down a bit as he was letting out moans. "Take every drop baby-" he moans out and finally stops as I feel his cum going down my throat.

I swallow as it came down and he was letting out groans and grunts along with series of my name. He pulled my head away and I stick my tongue at him. "That's my girl."

He helps me up and then gently lays me down on my bed, he sat next to me and almost immediately spread my legs. Then he stood up and went back to his pants and grabbed his knife, I raised an eyebrow at him and he only gave me a wink back as a response.

He placed the knife down and quickly took his shirt off before grabbing the knife again and then plopped down next to me. "Don't worry I'm not gonna hurt you." He says and leaves a peck on my lips.

"Not too badly..." he whispers with a small smirk tugging on his lips making me feel slightly nervous.

He brings his knife up to me to show me and I take a close at it. I widen my eyes and chuckle, "your very own buck 120?"

"Mhm that's right princess." He says and twirls it in his hand.

I looked at the knife on his hand but couldn't help but focus on his actual hand. It was so big. His fingers were so thick- one of his was probably two of mine... his fucking fingers would easily fill me u-

"Hey- me escuchaste chiquita?" He says and I just nod, quickly darting my eyes from his hands to the knife. (did you listen to me little girl?)

"Don't lie." He whispers turning to look at me and cocks an eyebrow.

"I- I wasn't. Y- I- I like your hands." I say sounding too shy by accident as I try to look away from him.

He chuckles and leaves the knife on my lap then trails his hand up and down my leg then slowly going up my thigh. I take a deep breath then let it out when his hand went back down. "Could've just said so mami." He whispers in my ear making me squeeze my thighs together again.

He then squeezes my right thigh and groans, I bite my lip and feel my heart beat faster again. "So pretty." He murmurs making me let out a small whimper.

"And such a good girl." He adds and I moan out leaning my head against his.

He tuts and I can feel him shake his head. "Spread your legs for me baby."

I do as I'm told and spread them, he grabs his knife from my lap and I was growing nervous again. "I promise I won't hurt you okay?" He says slightly calming my nerves but I nod, wanting to believe him but knowing damn well he can slice me up if he really wanted to.

He then slowly brings the knife up to my neck, making me squirm and breathe more heavily. He pulls it back and kisses my cheek. "It's okay angel, I wouldn't hurt my final girl." He whispers in a serious tone and I just nod.

"Tell me you trust me." He says softly and I turn to look at him.

Oh that was hard.

But given the situation I felt like I had to, plus if he really wanted to kill me, he already would have. So yeah...

"I trust you Miguel." I breathe out and he pecks my lips softly.

I kiss him back gently before he pulled away and brought the knife back up to my neck, the point of it gently on my skin. I try my best to calm my breathing, knowing that if I move even an inch he'll end up accidentally cutting me. Maybe he wanted that but I definitely didn't. At least not now or yet.

He moved the knife down to the neckline of my shirt and let the point of the knife tug on the fabric. He pulled it back and it made a small hole, he looked at it with a proud smile then continued down. He held the neckline with his other hand and let the other one rip off my shirt through the middle.

The sound of the tares filled my ears and I couldn't help but feel aroused- why was this hot?

My heart beat was fine now and I felt like nervous about this which just shocked me.

I bite my lip as he slowly cut down my shirt until he went all the way down in one swift motion. He pulled the ends of my shirt back, leaving me with my tits all exposed and he moans.

He takes off the remains of my shirt and throws it on the floor before quickly moving his head down and latches his mouth onto one of my nipples. I gasp and let out a quiet moan while he continues sucking.

He then pulls away slightly and brings the knife back up and very lightly caresses the blade against my left areola. I was still breathing normally which was good considering I didn't want him to cut up my nipple.

He leaves a kiss along my right tit while he slowly circled along my nipple with the point of the knife, almost skillfully. Which I guess would make sense....

I let out a sigh and I look down at him to see him with a wide grin on his face. God he was so fine.

He sucks on the nipple gently and then slides the blade down my tit and onto my stomach and down to my thighs. He went down excruciatingly slow and I wanted to buck my hips up but knowing it wasn't the best idea.

He put the point of the knife under the waistband of my panties and cut it easily. I gasped while he let out a chuckle and cut the other end of my panties.

My eyes widened and he only smirked looking up at my reaction. He grabbed my panties from the middle, right above my pussy and with his other hand spread my legs. He pulled the panties off and it, of course was cut through and fucked.

"Good job mami." He murmurs and comes up to kiss my lips again.

My hands go to his hair to not have him pull away as I kiss him back and he just smiles against my lips. He cupped my jaw and hovered over me, not fulling laying on top of me.

His hands roamed my body, squeezing my tits, pinching my nipple, then trailing up and down my stomach sending shivers down my spine. He moaned against my lips when I tugged on his curls gently and I spread my legs for him, desperately wanting him to touch me.

He felt it and his hand immediately trailed down and wasted no time, instantly soaking his fingers between my drenched folds. I let out a moan and he slides his tongue in my mouth. I try to glide my tongue against his but I was so focused on how his fingers were finally where I needed him so badly.

He pulls away leaving me breathless as his fingers go up to rub my clit slowly making me buck my hips up. "So wet for me pretty girl." He murmurs and I let out a whimper.

His fingers were drenched in my slickness and I felt my heart beat faster when his fingers went down to tease my hole, barely dipping the tip of a finger in then pulling out. "M-Miguel please-"

"Hmm? Please what angelita?" he teases and I whimper moving my hips up again. (little angel)

"P-Please fuck me-" I moan out and lay my head back against my pillow.

"Oh you want me inside you already?" He says as he slides a finger inside so easily making me clench against it.

I nod and feel my eyes flutter, already feeling fucked out and breathless. "Y-Yes I- mm I need you...." I murmur and I can barely hear him chuckle.

"Poor baby... already so needy and desperate for my cock." He teases as he slides the second finger in.

I let out strings of moans as he goes faster and I feel myself getting lightheaded. I blink and open my eyes to look at him now fully down there, which I hadn't even noticed or felt him move down but I didn't question it.

He blew some air onto my clit making me quiver and he held my stomach down with his available hand. "Tease-" i mutter as he smirks.

Suddenly he pulls his fingers out making me whine immediately until I notice he was hovering over me and I felt his tip was swirling in my juices. "God I've been wanting to fuck you for so long." He moans out as he slowly slides in.

He stretched me out and I immediately closed my eyes, laying my head back while he brought my legs up and pushed them up my body a bit, making him feel so much bigger.

We both moan as I clench against him and he rolls his eyes back as he pushes himself more into me. "Fuck." I moan out now finally opening my eyes to look at him and how his muscles looked while he held my legs up.

"God you feel better than I imagined baby-" he grunts as he slides all the way in.

I felt him completely fill me up as he started moving, at first slowly fucking me until he couldn't help but go faster. The sounds of skin slapping filled my ears but I couldn't be happier when I heard, saw and felt everything all at once.

He started thrusting faster and I moan sounding so needy, and letting out murmurs of his name. "Miguel..."

He was going harder making me feel every fucking inch of him inside me. He squeezed the back of my thighs as he was pushing my legs further into my chest. He felt so good.

I quickly was feeling my orgasm forming in my lower abdomen. I felt my legs shake as my breathing quickened and Miguel was slowly down a bit, leaning forward to kiss me.

I kissed him back letting out small moans against his lips when he reached down to rub my clit. "I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me baby- mmm I wanna fill you-" he moans against my lips and with a final thrust, we both came.

He pulls away, leaning his forehead against mine as we were both panting, I still felt his cum spilling into me. "Oh you did so good for me baby." He coos and cups my cheek lightly rubbing it.

I melt into his head and feel my eyes get heavy. I felt him kiss my head before slowly slipping out of me and I instantly felt all his cum drip out of me. "The prettiest view." He says and lets out a low whistle.

I shiver and smile, letting my eyes close. "Oh and don't worry about your ex, he won't bother you again angelita." He whispers as he lays down next to me, wrapping an arm around me.

"What?!?"

Miguel didn't exactly plan on showing himself to you but really couldn't help wanting to see you again, but in person, and with you having no clue who he was.

So he did just that, simply followed the tracking device he had implanted on your car just a few weeks ago and landed at a diner. He coincidentally parked right outside the window you were by, he nearly growled at the sight of your ex pestering you through the window. It took all in him to not go in him and stab him with the knife he had in his glovebox, not yet, he'd remind himself.

He then saw your friend poking him with a knife that'd do no damage, and shook his head in disbelief. He'd do some damage alright.

Suddenly he stormed off and that was his green light to go in. He turned off the engine, got his key, and opened the door feeling excitement appear in his stomach.

He was very aware of his looks and didn't mind the stares, but he knew it'd just be feel different knowing it'd be you staring at him. Not the real him, that'd be for later but still him. He knew you just wouldn't be able to help yourself.

He walked in casually and waited in line almost instantly feeling the stares of your friends but not caring for them. He wanted you to stare at him, to feel attracted to him like he was when he first laid his eyes on you.

He was able to hear the giggling and whispers but then he was barely able to hear your voice, oh how badly he's been wanting to hear you talk in Spanish.

Nothing was hotter to him than knowing how his girl also spoke his mother language.

He was trying so hard to push the dirty thought of you underneath him begging him to fuck you harder in Spanish.

The line moved up and now it was his turn to speak in Spanish, it wasn't the smartest move for him considering he didn't want you to hear his voice otherwise you'd instantly recognize it.

He waited a bit for the random breakfast burrito he had ordered until finally it came out in a to go bag and he walked out knowing your eyes never left his body. He purposely opened the door practically flaunting his biceps for your viewing pleasure.

It turned him on knowing you were gawking at him, he already felt the effect he'd have on you once he revealed himself to you. Your pretty face would be so shocked and he'd feel so happy knowing you were physically attracted to him without even knowing he was Ghostface.

He put his food in and then slipped inside already feeling his cock getting hard. He put the key in and turned the radio on to make it seem like he wasn't just enjoying your stares. Your curious eyes.

He couldn't help the smirk that tugged on his lips when he saw a quick flash of you turning your head. So cute, he thought.

He looked up at you, looking elsewhere, but desperately wanting you to look at him again. For you to see that he was interested in you, even thought it was more than what you'd be thinking.

He looked away for a split second then looked back just as you looked up at him. His girl.

His heart fluttered in his chest and he felt his cock twitch. He's never had the chance to meet you like this and now that it was happening he was quite overwhelmed and was already thinking of all the dirty things he wanted to do to you later.

You didn't look away and this only made the bulge in his pants get harder. He was so pleased that his girl wasn't shy and just how pretty she looked staring right back at him.

It had lasted so long he felt his cock throbbing with every passing second but he didn't want to look away until he felt his precum leak through his boxers and onto his pants.

He gave you a smile then a nod which made you give him a nod back. His girl is so sweet.

He smirked and his cock loved the way her eyes widened and bite her lip. He couldn't wait to see your smile as he played with you later.

He nods at you again before finally reversing and going to his apartment wanting to stroke himself thinking of the way you were looking at him and couldn't wait until later that night.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Under Orders - Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 🔹Part 2🔹Part 3🔹Part 4🔹Part 5

Pairing: Dom!Marshall x reader x Dom!August

Summary: The long-awaited weekend with both of your guys has finally arrived...

Word count: 7.6k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, BDSM, D/s dynamic (technically D/s/D), praise kink, bondage, oral sex (f receiving) (m receiving, face fucking), p-in-v sex (unprotected, creampie), anal sex (toys, fingering, p-in-a) (f receiving) (unprotected, anal creampie), double (and technically triple) penetration, slight hurt/comfort, use of pet names/titles (Daddy, Sir, princess, kitten, sweetheart, love and darling), established relationship, extra light dacryphilia, spanking, voyeurism, exhibitionism, slight humiliation/degradation, slight objectification, bratty behavior, punishment/funishment, Also check-ins, aftercare and some polyam vibes... Tell me if I missed any because... Yeah, it's a lot.

A/N: Alright! You were all promised a weekend with both of your men and oh boy, it's here and it's a LOT. I had a ton of fun writing this. I think we're done now, but I'll keep these guys in mind in case inspiration strikes at some point...

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @peaches1958 @know1udno @dedicated-to-mr-cavill @7eamfan7asy @ylva-stark @summersong69 @kingliam2019 @mayloma @sloppyzengarden @youve-yeed-yer-last-haw @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @liveoncoffeeandflowersss

You have to get dressed because ‘Marshall is coming over to watch the game', which is bullshit; they just want an excuse to have you sit pretty and get wet for the first part of the night. With a bit of luck – just a teensy little bit – it’ll mean lots of ‘pre-game’ cuddles for you.

The downside: you have to pick something to wear that will rile both of your guys up without making it seem like you dressed up for one or the other – which means your whole wardrobe is entirely useless. It’s a massive luxury problem you’re having, for sure, but it’s still a problem, and it’s still going to need a solution.

August finds you in front of your dresser, surrounded by a few tiny piles of expensive lace. He leans nonchalantly in the doorway, looking at you with one eyebrow raised, and a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” There is a hint of amusement in his voice that makes you want to lunge for his throat – but you don’t. Instead, you decide to go with the truth. Anything else would be a massive mistake, considering the night you’re about to have. So you get up, and fall down on the bed with a sigh, which is enough to prompt August to come over and sit next to you.

“I’m nervous,” you say softly, as if you’re embarrassed. You aren’t – not consciously, anyway. If there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that you love having them both near you, but if any of your hunches regarding the events of this evening are right, you’re in for a wild ride. It’s definitely anxiety-inducing. You can tell August swallows a chuckle when you tell him about your concerns – not because he thinks your fears are funny, but because he thinks they’re silly.

“I promise we’ll keep you safe, darling.” He leans in to kiss you. It’s just a soft peck on your lips, but it really helps settle your nerves. Your voice is stronger, steadier, now that you’re slightly calmer, and you tell him that’s not what you’re worried about, per se.

“What if I can’t do it?” He instantly knows what you’re referring to, of course, and a smile spreads across his face.

“Then it’s not happening. There’s a million other ways for us to enjoy our favorite little toy.” He says it so casually, as if he isn’t comparing you to a lifeless object to be used for his pleasure – well, his and Marshall’s. You hide your face in the duvet as he says it, knowing he can tell you’re turned on by it.

“Do you want me to help you pick something?” He asks when you will yourself out of hiding again, and he seems surprised when you shake your head.

“No, I want you to make a decision for me, Daddy,” you say softly, shifting positions so that your head is in his lap. August thinks about his answer for a moment before apparently deciding he’s willing to help you out.

“Shower, shave, hair, make-up.” Absolutely not a request – and also very clear instructions that are easy to follow, and that’s exactly what you were hoping for. You immediately get off the bed and make your way to the bathroom.

“Oh, and darling,” he says just before you’re out the door, “no red lipstick. It makes you look like such a whore.” You know he’s teasing you – he likes red lipstick on you on occasion, he’s just telling you he prefers something… sweeter for tonight. Still, something inside you feels the desperate need to just disagree.

“But, Daddy,” you say innocently, “what if I want to look like a whore?”

“I don’t think my orders are up for debate, kitten,” he says sternly.

“Pink isn’t going to make me look like any less of a slut when it’s smeared all over my face and your cock.” Your innocent voice has disappeared, and your statement is completed by the most challenging eyes you can conjure up. It takes everything you’ve got to not lose control of that gaze when August gets up and paces to you.

“Darling, Sir may enjoy this attitude, but if you keep this up with me, you won’t be able to sit by the time he gets here.” There’s a large, warm, incredibly distracting hand at the back of your neck, its thumb effortlessly stroking up and down your throat, reaching all the way across it with ease. Before he speaks again, that hand tightens slightly, making you gasp: “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you answer, and the pressure around your throat disappears again.

“Good girl.”

You take your time in the bathroom, and when you’re finally done and ready to come out, August is laying on the bed, reading a book. As soon as he sees you, he puts it away and sits at the edge of the mattress, signaling you to come closer.

He gives you a quick once-over once you’re in front of him – the ultra-light version of a genuine inspection – and nods approvingly. Your eyes widen in anticipation when you see your favorite toy laying on the bed. August pulls you in so you’re standing between his knees, and kisses the naked skin of your stomach softly.

You chuckle as the coarse hair of his mustache tickles you, and he hums softly when he hears it. Suddenly, his hand lands on your ass. It’s a playful smack, but he’s strong, so it still hurts quite a bit.

“Get on the bed, darling,” he says as he taps the mattress. You know he likes to watch you as you prepare yourself for the plug – which has become second nature by now, anyway – and you put on a bit of a show for him.

“Kitten, don’t get in trouble before Marshall even gets here,” August says, laughing at your suddenly somewhat scared expression. “Put that where it belongs and get dressed, my angel.” He gives you a soft kiss and another playfully harsh slap on your ass that leaves your cheek stinging.

You look at the things he’s picked for you. You don’t recognize what he’s laid out, but it’s absolutely perfect. He gives you a quick wink before leaving the bedroom, and you smile. August knows how to spoil his girl – it’s astounding how often new lingerie is part of the program. You quickly do as he asks and make your way downstairs just as Marshall steps through the door.

“Hey,” he says as he gives you a hug. He can’t seem to help himself: his hand lightly squeezes your ass while he hugs you, and you laugh. The skirt you’re wearing is short, so his fingers slip underneath the fabric without really even trying. “How are you feeling?” It can be annoying to have to explain everything twice, but tonight you’re grateful they’re both checking in on you.

“A little nervous,” you admit to him with the same hint of shyness in your voice as when you talked to August. Marshall also reassures you that you’re in good hands. Of course you know that. In fact, you’ve never doubted that for even so much as a second, but that doesn’t make the nerves go away. Marshall studies your face for a moment until he’s satisfied nothing else is wrong.

“Pink,” he says softly as he slowly drags a finger along your bottom lip. “I would have preferred red.” You can hear August chuckle from the kitchen, and you pout at Marshall.

“Daddy said it makes me look like a whore.”

“Did he, now?” Marshall raises his eyebrows. You chuckle at the amused expression on his face. Marshall wraps an arm around you and walks you over to the kitchen, where August is getting a drink. “August, why don’t we want her to look like a whore?” He pulls you in front of him, locking his arms around you from behind firmly: escaping him is impossible. August walks over and grabs your hips below Marshall’s arms. You hum when he steps towards you. It’s a very nice feeling, being sandwiched between your men like this. August thinks for a moment before answering Marshall’s question.

“You know my preferences, Marshall,” he says with a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You know mine, Walker,” Marshall retorts, making both you and August laugh softly as you exchange glances. The lingerie you’re wearing is definitely more up Marshall’s alley than August’s. Marshall catches on immediately.

“Now I’m very curious to find out what’s underneath this…” This time he slips his hands underneath your skirt on purpose. August reassures him he’ll like it. It doesn’t help his patience, but you tell him to stop, earning yourself an approving look from August while Marshall whines like a kid – it’s really funny.

“Now you won’t let him look?” August teases before he kisses you. When he steps away, you laugh.

“Well, Daddy, Sir, either you two were planning on having me as your halftime show, or you’re not the men I thought you were.” You can tell from the look the guys share that you’re right.

The three of you get comfortable on the couch; August sprawled out on the chaise, your legs entwined with his, while you snuggled into Marshall’s side. Between the plug and the two pairs of hands roaming your body freely, you find yourself squirming all the way through the first half. So much, that Marshall is already losing his patience. Fortunately for you, his arms aren’t long enough to reach to your ass comfortably. Unfortunately for you, they’re both here tonight.

“August, do me a favor,” Marshall growls as he jerks your shoulders around so you’re mostly laying on your stomach, “smack her for me. Can’t stand this squirming.”

August is happy to oblige, and you shriek at the rough impact of his palm on your ass.

“Thanks,” Marshall says before taking another sip of his drink, and August chuckles.

“My pleasure,” he says.

“Not mine,” you growl, “it was his fault!” You point at August and scowl at Marshall, who raises his eyebrows at you.

“Are you blaming Daddy for your squirming, darling? I don’t think that’s fair.” He looks at August. “Do you?”

“I think she can either be a good girl and take this,” August replies, and he softly strokes your leg all the way up your thigh, “or you can be a good girl and take something far more severe.” That’s your cue to scowl at August as well. They both laugh at your reaction and continue touching you until you can’t wait for half-time any longer.

When it finally rolls around, August orders you to stand up and take off your skirt and top. To your surprise, Marshall turns off the TV.

“Aren’t you going to…” You don’t get to finish your question.

“We thought we shouldn’t make you suffer through the second half,” Marshall says. You’re just glad it wasn’t a particularly exciting game. They definitely would have finished watching it if it were. You rolled your eyes at the thought. Men. Incorrigible, as always. Marshall carefully tests the coffee table with his foot.

“How sturdy is that thing?”

“Strong enough to support her weight,” August answers offhandedly, but with a suspiciously sly smile. You flash a more embarrassed one when you remember how you both got that first-hand knowledge.

“Sit,” August gestures to the table, “spread your legs.” You do as you’re asked, immediately. For the first time, Marshall takes a moment to appreciate the underwear you’re in.

It’s not a color August prefers on you – too dark for his tastes – but Marshall seems to love it. Your heart rate quickens as you sit there awaiting further instructions, but you don’t get any. The only thing August says is a reminder that you are their halftime show.

“Or should I tell you what not to do?” Marshall winks as he says it. You smile back at him while you lean back a little and drag a hand from your knee to your thigh. The guys exchange glances and then look back at you, waiting for you to make a move, but you’re frozen. It doesn’t take long before they’re both by your side, asking what’s wrong.

“It’s the nerves,” you sigh, wishing they wouldn’t give you a choice. And it looks like your prayers are answered when Marshall yanks your panties down and sticks them in his back pocket.

“I know you can put on a show for me, love,” he says, reminding you – again – of the last time you were together, “now, if you don’t start playing with that pretty pussy soon, you won’t get to do so at all. And for the love of God, stop squirming.” Your nerves quiet down as soon as you’re told what to do.

“Am I allowed to come, Sir? Daddy?” The guys exchange looks again when you ask and August steps up for this one.

“Sure,” he says, which seems to surprise Marshall.

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows at August, who pulls his face into a smug grin.

“Yeah, why not?” he says. “Better make them count, though.” Oh, that doesn’t sound good.

“What are you thinking, Walker?”

“I’m thinking five for every orgasm she has,” August says. That’s definitely not good. Or maybe it is, you haven’t decided yet.

“Each side?” August nods in reply, and Marshall considers that for a moment. “Not ten?” He seems vaguely disappointed, but also looks on board with the idea.

“She’s been good,” August answers plainly, and Marshall agrees with him.

It does something to you when they talk about you like you’re not there. Even when they talk about spanking you every time you come. They get back on the couch and look at you as you slowly open your legs again.

You can clearly feel your pulse between them, and you know there’s no way in the world you’re not soaking wet right now. Leaning back on one arm, you raise your feet, putting them on the edge of the table, spreading yourself wider as you run your fingers through your folds.

It’s tempting to just tease a little before giving up, but they’ll never go for that in a million years. They both groan when you bite your lip and look at them. One finger slides into your slick core with ease, and adding a second is no problem, either.

“What’s your problem with the squirming?” August asks Marshall as they’re looking at you. The sudden conversation gives you the same feeling as before, and the urge to please them gets stronger with every move your hands make.

“I’m not sure. Makes me want to tie her down,” Marshall replies to the question. He sounds rather indifferent, but you know he isn’t. Before August introduced you to Marshall, you’d tried some light bondage with him, but it was nothing compared to what Marshall introduced you to. August likes seeing you restrained – Marshall loves tying you up.

“Why don’t you?” The way August says it makes it sounds like an invitation – or you hope it’s an invitation so much that your mind is starting to play tricks on you. Either way; every cell in your body screams with joy at the thought of being tied to the table you’re sitting on. Marshall doesn’t answer, but he gets up from the couch to get something from his bag – and that’s all the confirmation you need.

“Keep touching yourself, darling,” he says to you as he starts securing your ankle to your thigh. You watch Marshall work for only a minute; you know what he looks like when he does this. The concentration on his face, the excitement in his eyes.

You’ll probably get to see it again the next time you spend time with him. What you don’t get to see too often, however, is August as he watches you being tied down to his coffee table by his best friend. His eyes are on you, full of adoration, his breaths are heavy and low growls escape him every few seconds.

The sight alone is enough to bring you to the edge, but watching him reach into his jeans, stroking his cock, getting off on seeing you like this… That’s just too much to handle. You finish hard, and at first you don’t think about the punishment you just earned yourself – until you hear both men laughing.

“That’s five,” August says, looking at Marshall to see if he wants to do something about that immediately.

“She can get them later, I’m not untying her,” is the gruff answer. Marshall secures your other leg, before pushing you onto your back and fixing both of your legs to the coffee table, spreading them as far as is comfortable for you. Since your hands are free, you expect to be asked to continue playing with yourself, but reality has something far more cruel in store for you.

“August,” Marshall asks, a wide grin spreading across his face, “that agreement about the punishment for each orgasm. Does that apply only to the ones she causes herself?”

“I believe I used the words ‘five for every orgasm she has’.” Your eyes are already begging, but you know it’s not going to work.

“Hm. Thought so,” Marshall replies. You don’t like the look in his eyes at all. Before you can decide whether opening your mouth would be brave or stupid – although you should know by now that it’s most definitely very, very stupid – you’re already speaking.

“I thought he was the sadist,” you point at August, who raises an eyebrow in such a way that makes you instantly regret the way you talked about him. And the pointing, you definitely regret that, too. The sting of two sharp smacks on your ass makes you shriek.

“I think it’s best if you don’t talk about Daddy – or me – like that, darling,” Marshall says. Tears sting behind your eyes, still from the impact. He really hit you hard.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Sorry, Daddy,” you say in a small voice. You let your head hang back, over the edge of the table, and just wait.

At first, nothing happens, and the anticipation makes you strain against the ropes that keep your legs in place. Suddenly, rough fingers stroke your wet pussy, and you gasp. Two of them push into you with ease, and just a few strokes – executed with precision – are enough to have you moaning loudly.

It’s only a matter of time before Marshall’s beard tickles between your legs, and you feel his hot breath on your skin. Do you want him to eat you out? Yes, absolutely. He’s so good at it, and it’s going to be absolutely amazing. On the other hand; he’s going to be so mean to you, and you’re going to get so punished when you come…

For a moment, you think about it as if you have a choice, and then you realize you don’t. You’re tied to the fucking coffee table, and there’s nothing you can do to stop either one of these guys from doing whatever they want to you. You really are a lucky girl.

Marshall’s tongue is warm and soft, especially compared to his beard, which is kind of rough against your skin. You gasp when he slowly licks every inch of your pussy before settling at your clit. He works that special spot with deadly precision, knowing exactly what you need, exactly when you need it. It’s amazing.

You’re moaning and swearing, begging him to stop, but you know he won’t. It’s almost impossible to move your hips, but that doesn’t stop you from instinctively trying to grind against his mouth. Eventually, it’s the sound of August’s moans and grunts that take you right to the edge again.

“Stop, please, Sir,” you beg, “I can’t. I’m going to… Please stop!” For a moment, you think it worked, because his mouth disappears.

“August, she keeps telling me to stop,” he says with a devious tone to his voice you don’t recognize – although it doesn’t take a genius to realize it can’t be a good thing, “I can’t work like this.”

By the time you’ve raised your head to look at what is going on, August has left the couch and has made his way to where your head hangs over the edge of the table. You’re screwed – in the best possible way, probably.

“Want me to shut her up?” August asks. The guys laugh as you protest the idea, and you earn yourself a few more sharp smacks to your behind for squirming. You know what’s going to happen, and you’re more than looking forward to it, but you’re not necessarily in a very comfortable position.

“My neck,” you whisper softy, and August immediately moves away, grabbing you a blanket to use as padding between your neck and the sharp edge of the table.

“Better, kitten?” he asks as he gently strokes your cheek. You nod – which feels weird, since you’re practically upside down – and he smiles at you.

“Yes, thank you, Daddy.”

Marshall’s mouth easily finds its way back to your clit, but this time August makes sure you can’t beg him to stop what he’s doing anymore. You raise a hand to his thigh – just in case – and part your lips so he can push his cock into your mouth. August gives you a moment to get used to him before he gently pulls out and slides back. He’s careful at first, but he knows you can take him all the way down in this position, and it doesn’t take long for him to pick up the pace.

“That’s it, good girl,” August says, “you’re doing amazing.” Your cheeks heat up when you hear his words, and for a moment you’re distracted from Marshall, who is still going down on you and doesn’t seem inclined to try anything else anytime soon. You just know he won’t stop until you come.

The good news is; you won’t last long. Between Marshall giving head and August fucking your throat – there’s really no reason to try to put a pretty description on that – you’re drowning in sensations, and you’re just one little nudge away from reaching your peak.

Marshall makes it happen when one of his heavy arms travels up your body, reaching for your throat. He doesn’t grab you, just gently lays his hand down, thumb softly stroking the side of your neck as August keeps using your mouth, but it’s enough to pull you over the finish line for the second time tonight. Marshall lets you ride out your high on his tongue, and then he withdraws – August doesn’t, although he does give you a moment to breathe.  

“So, that’s ten,” Marshall says. The amusement in his voice is more than clear.

You hear the familiar sound of a belt buckle being undone, and you moan loudly around August’s cock when you realize what’s next. Soon, you feel the tip of Marshall’s cock push into you, and you moan again. Marshall’s hand is still on your throat, and you feel him pull you down slightly as he sinks deeper into your pussy. The growl that escapes him makes you shiver.

“Fuck, look at that,” August grunts. He’s close, and the view can’t be helping him much right now. You know he loves watching you, whether you’re playing with yourself or getting railed by another guy doesn’t matter much. After a few more brutal thrusts, he warns you that he can’t take it anymore. He does it out of courtesy; it’s not as if you can pull away, he will, or you would want him to.

“She’s so fucking perfect,” Marshall growls and slams his hips against yours as August fills your throat with thick ropes of cum. It’s a struggle to swallow all of it, and you feel some spill out of the corner of your mouth. August makes sure that whatever you couldn’t take in on the first try ends up in your mouth anyway, and you chuckle as you hear him moan when you gently suck on his finger.

“You were right, princess, pink doesn’t make you look like any less of a slut when it’s smeared all over your face like this,” August says as he strokes your cheek. It has to be covered in black streaks from your mascara, and you just know he loves the way you look right now.

“This tight fucking pussy doesn’t help, either,” Marshall says through clenched teeth in between heavy breaths. “God, you’re such a perfect little fuck toy.” He grunts as he comes, sliding deep into you one last time. He takes a moment to admire what he’s done to you before he starts to untie you.

While Marshall puts the ropes away, August gathers you into his arms and carries you back to the couch. You curl up in his lap, resting your head on his chest, catching your breath while you’re listening to the fast beating of his heart. If this already has you worked up like this – something you’ve actually done before – then how are you ever going to survive what you’re actually trying to achieve tonight?

“Good girl,” August groans into your ear as he traces the marks the ropes left on your legs, “you looked so pretty, princess. You’re so perfect.” His praise relaxes you, and you melt into his arms. It doesn’t take long for Marshall to join you, and you lean your head back against his chest. Having both of them hold you like this makes you wish they’d never leave, that you’d always get both of them, but you’re afraid that’s just going to be a fantasy forever.

“So, darling, do you want them now, or all at once when we’re done?” Marshall whispers into your ear when he feels you’ve calmed down sufficiently. You scowl at him, then at August, but there’s going to be no escaping this punishment.

“Daddy,” you whine, but he just laughs.

“I didn’t think so, kitten.” He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose and smiles. “If you’re a smart girl, you’re going to answer Sir’s question before he decides to leave it to me. I don’t feel like hurting my hand spanking you, you know that.” Oh yeah, you know. The last time August spanked you, he used his belt, and you could barely sit for two days. If you let Marshall do this, you’re going to enjoy it at least a little. With August? No chance.

“I’ll take ‘em now,” you growl at Marshall, who raises an eyebrow in surprise.

“Not like that, kitten.” It’s August who calls you out on your behavior. “I think you’re going to ask Sir to spank you, and you’re going to ask nicely. Otherwise, I’m going to have to take over, after all.”

“Would you please spank me now, Sir?” you repeat, avoiding both Marshall’s eyes and August’s as you say it, mostly so you don’t accidentally give any more attitude. August chuckles. You know how much he loves making you ask for your punishment. You’re fairly sure the spanking you’re about to get won’t be the last of the evening, and taking all of them at once when you’re through with the planned program is definitely going to be too much.

You protest lightly while Marshall manhandles you into position, making him laugh. He loves a bit of resistance from you – as long as you’re not squirming. His hands are heavy on the back of your thighs, which are trembling in anticipation.

“Are you alright, love?” There’s genuine concern in his voice, and his hand gently massages your ass. You nod, and not long after, Marshall’s hand makes contact with your skin. He’s going easy on you – very easy – and you just know he’s doing it on purpose. It’s right there in that sweet spot between pleasure and pain that turns you on more than anything else, and slowly but surely, your nerves begin to fade. You let out a soft yelp with each slap, out of surprise and anticipation rather than agony. Without thinking, you move your hand to the base of August’s cock and wrap your fingers around him.

“Come closer, please, Daddy,” you say, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Marshall isn’t spanking you so hard that you’re afraid you’ll involuntarily clench your teeth, so you consider it safe enough to suck August off. When Marshall is done, you try to crawl out of his lap, but he won’t let you.

“Got any lube on hand?” he asks August, and you’re immediately caught up on what he’s going to do to you next. You whine when he removes the plug you were still wearing and replaces it with his well-lubed fingers. After a while, he seems convinced it’s time for something else, and he orders you to sit on his cock. Of course, you happily oblige.

It’s possible that getting spanked while sucking August off has made you wetter than ever before, and you easily take Marshall all the way into your soaked pussy. He keeps working his fingers into you while he kisses you deeply. August seems to be looking for something else in the meantime, and it isn’t until Marshall lets you go that you can tell what it is. He’s holding a very recognizable, shiny foil square.

“Condoms?” you ask. It’s surprising; you never use condoms with either of them. This feels like a weird time to start.  

“Just in case we need to switch,” August says, “or want to.” For a moment, you want to ask what he means, but then you remember what you’re trying to do here. You take a deep breath when Marshall pulls his fingers out of you, trying desperately to relax when August’s cock slowly takes their place. Or rather tries to, because it’s not exactly smooth sailing at this point. Marshall raises his eyebrows at you when you swear under your breath, but you can’t help yourself. There’s no way this is going to work.  

“More lube, please Daddy,” you whine. Marshall let’s out a low growl; your walls are squeezing him tight as you tense up.

“Relax, love,” he murmurs into your ear, but you shake your head.

“I can’t, Sir. I- Wait,” you gasp. You know you can’t stand to try the same thing – and fail – again, so maybe it helps to change the strategy. Marshall protests when you lift yourself off his cock. Now that you’re not filled up already, August slides into your ass with ease – exactly the way you’ve grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. It takes you only a short moment to adjust and then you slowly sink back down onto Marshall.

Your mouth falls open, you can’t see straight, and there is absolutely no way you can stop yourself from swearing now. The boys are way too caught up in whatever they’re feeling to say anything about it. The sensation is overwhelming, and the feeling of victory when you finally sit all the way down is indescribable.

“Wow,” you choke out between ragged breaths.

“’Wow’ sounds about right,” Marshall snarls through gritted teeth. If he clenches his jaw any harder, you’re afraid he’s going to shatter his teeth.

“Doesn’t begin to cover it,” August says as he leans his forehead against your shoulder. You sit there for a while, getting used to the feeling of being filled by two cocks. And then August moves, and you see stars.

“Fuck!” you exclaim, digging your nails into Marshall’s shoulder. He hisses when you do it, and you give him an apologetic look. “Sorry, Sir.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he says before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips, “you’re doing amazing.”

“You really are, kitten,” August says. He strokes your hair out of the way and kisses your neck softly. “You’re taking us so well. Both of us. I’m so proud of you.” Their words make your heart swell with pride, but if you had to be perfectly honest; you’re pretty damn proud of yourself, too. The three of you take another minute to adjust to the intense sensations before anyone moves again.

This time, to your surprise, it’s you. You move slowly, careful not to overestimate yourself when you lower yourself back onto the two cocks that fill you up inch by inch until they’re both completely inside you. It’s a seriously tight fit, but it feels so good. The move of your hips become faster as you get used to the way Marshall and August stretch you out, and the moans and grunts that the guys let out follow suit. Soon, your own movements, which are fairly restricted by the position you’re in, aren’t enough.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, and you can tell from the way Marshall looks pasts you that they’re exchanging glances, unsure whether it’s a good idea.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” August asks. The tone of his voice mimics the display of concern that is so clear on Marshall’s face.

“I’m sure,” you say. “Fuck me. I can handle it.”

That seems to convince them, because they both start moving; slowly at first, but picking up the pace as soon as they realize you weren’t lying. They can’t keep the same rhythm, which makes the entire experience rather interesting, and soon enough you feel your next orgasm building inside you. This one, you decide, is going to be so fucking worth it, there’s no way you’re going to even so much as try to deny yourself. Punishment be damned.

Fingers dig into your hips, your shoulders, your thigh. August’s lips move against the skin of your neck so gently it’s almost a ridiculous contrast with the way you’re being fucked senseless right now. When you lean your head back, it hits August’s shoulder, and frees up space for Marshall to kiss the other side of your neck. He never stops thrusting up into you, though. Every move they make is erratic, you’re getting closer with every thrust, and judging from the sounds they are making; so are they.

“Don’t stop!” You hope the words are something resembling intelligible between the moans that roll off your tongue freely, but it doesn’t matter much. “I’m comi- Fuck!”

Apparently the way your body tenses up from your orgasm is something the guys can’t handle: August sinks his teeth into your shoulder while Marshall throws his head back as he fills you up for the second time tonight. While August disappears to take care of some cleanup, Marshall pulls you down onto his cock and against his chest. You kiss his neck softly, earning you some appreciative moans.

“That was very impressive, darling,” he murmurs into your ear. “Do you think you can handle another round?” Another round? Your first instinct is to call him crazy, but considering the proposal for even a second sends shivers down your spine and makes your walls clench around Marshall’s cock. He chuckles when he feels the involuntary reaction of your body to his question.

“Come here,” he says as he moves you around so you’re in his lap with your back against him. He’s almost rough in his movements, impatient.

“Wait,” you say as you bend forward to grab the lube off the coffee table. You have to admit, August does a really good job making sure there’s always plenty in stock. Marshall applies a very generous amount before pulling your legs onto the edge of the couch. It’s genuinely surprising how easily his cock slides all the way into your ass.

“God, who would have thought that another cock was better prep than a few fingers?” You think you think it, but judging from the fact that Marshall laughs, you’ve actually said it out loud. It doesn’t matter; you laugh too – but only for a second. Marshall doesn’t waste any time, telling you to give him a sign if he hurts you and then taking off. His moves are far more gentle than they were a moment ago, but the feeling is no less intense – if you first divide everything you were going through about five minutes ago by two, that is.

In one of the rare moments when you can actually open your eyes, you see August, standing in the doorway. He’s biting his lip and stroking himself. Before you met August you didn’t have yourself pegged for someone with exhibitionist tendencies, but you have to admit; there’s just something you love about him watching you.

“You get off on Daddy watching you ride my cock, don’t you?” The extra effort you put in now that August is watching the two of you hasn’t escaped Marshall’s attention.

“Yes, Sir.” Almost mindlessly, you drop your hand between your legs and you finger yourself to within an inch of your next orgasm. You’re so close to the edge when something pulls your hand away: August.

“Do you want to help me come, Daddy?” He makes you shriek by shoving a few fingers – you’re not sure how many – inside you without warning. He doesn’t need to answer you; the way he curls them deep inside your pussy makes it abundantly clear that that’s exactly what he wants to do, and he does it so quickly that you’re not entirely sure whether you should be ashamed of it.

He keeps his fingers inside you while you ride out your high, but even when you’ve come down you whine when he pulls them out and holds them up to your mouth. Three fingers drum an impatient rhythm on your lower lip.

“Open up, princess,” he says, and you’re more than happy to obey him.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” Marshall groans in your ear, “licking my cum off Daddy’s fingers.”

With his fingers still in your mouth, August shoves his cock into your pussy. Your head falls back onto Marshall’s shoulder, and you moan loudly around August’s fingers. The different position and… configuration make everything feel different than before, but it’s at least as good. It doesn’t take long before you’re begging both of them to come inside  you, and it doesn’t sound like they’re far off.

It’s a good thing, because despite the fact that all of this feels absolutely glorious, you’re not quite sure just how much more of this you can take. Meanwhile, the boys seem to have entered into a petty contest to see who can last the longest, but it has them finishing at about the same time. They’re both growling in your ear as they fill you up completely, and they don’t move for a while after they come.

“August, move,” you say rather unceremoniously while pushing against his shoulder. He does as you ask, but gives you a quizzical look. “I really need to not have a dick up my ass right now.” Both of them laugh as you say it, and they help you get up – which is something you desperately need, because standing on your own is a challenge you’re not exactly up for anymore, especially considering the fact that you’re still wearing your heels.

Marshall’s hands grab your hips, and he tries to pull you back into his lap, but you resist him.

“No, I’m all sticky,” you say, but he doesn’t care.

“We’ll take care of that in a bit, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur as you sink back onto his lap and lean against his chest. August sits down next to you and gently strokes your back while pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. None of you speak for a few minutes, until August suggests you take your minute in the bathroom, which you agree to.

“And then I want both of you in the shower with me,” you say. It’s your turn to be stern about this. Marshall can be very good at not stepping on any toes, and last time you were all together he did exactly that, but at the expense of his own needs. Never again. Not on your watch, anyway.

They seem more than happy to oblige, because once you’re done in the downstairs bathroom, they’re nowhere to be found on the ground floor. Once you make it upstairs, where you can already hear the water running, there’s no sign of Marshall. It’s just August, lying in bed, reading. You don’t have to ask the question; the look on your face is more than enough or him, and he points at the door to the bathroom and shrugs. A wave of anxiety hits you as you walk towards the door, and you just fiercely hope that Marshall is okay.

He is in the shower. His back is turned to you, but you can easily tell he’s tense. Without thinking, you join him. The water is colder than you’re used to, and your instinctive reaction gives away your whereabouts.

“I need both of you close to me right now, is that okay?” Marshall doesn’t look at you, and his behavior is starting to worry you. You’ve seen him drop before, and as much as you never want that to happen again, you doubt whether this is the same thing.

“I love you.” He says it like he’s committed a crime – a particularly grueling one, at that – and you can’t help but look at him in surprise. Does he think this is new information to you? He’s never said it out loud, but it’s so obvious from everything he does…

You’re pretty sure that there would be tears in his eyes if it wasn’t for the water crashing down on his head. “I’m afraid August is gonna be really mad at me for that.” Both of you turn around when you hear someone behind you laugh as if that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard in his entire life – and knowing August, it probably is, or he wouldn’t be laughing like that.

“You think I didn’t know?” August casually leans against the shower wall before taking the final steps towards the two of you. “You honestly thought I’d let you near her if you didn’t love her?” You can’t explain how glad you are to hear him say that. It makes admitting to yourself that you love both of them a lot easier for you.

“I’m away half the time, Angel,” August says to you as he wraps his arms around you, “I like to know you’re taken care of by someone who loves you just as much as I do.” His eyes leave yours and he looks at Marshall before he continues: “Someone I can trust.”

You reach around Marshall to turn up the heat of the water, and both Marshall and August laugh.

“Why do you shower in lava?” August asks.

“Why do both of you shower in ice?” you retort.

“How about a compromise?” Marshall proposes, and you are all ears. “We’ll set the water temperature to something that doesn’t melt our skin off, and then we’ll keep you nice and warm?” You pretend to think about that for a moment, until two individual eyebrows are raised and you stick your bratty attitude right back where it belonged. Alright, most of it…

“Ok,” you say slowly, “but I demand to be kept warm all night. By both of you.” You add the last part mostly for Marshall. The last time the three of you spent time together, he’d gone home for the night, but you don’t want that now. He seems hesitant at first, but the look in his eyes disappears when August agrees – seemingly without even thinking about it. You can tell from the way he looks at Marshall that he’d meant everything he had just said.

After they have both agreed to your terms, they get to work on what they’d promised to do. Four hands roam your body freely, squeezing and lingering in all the places they know you love, somehow always finding their way inside you, teasing you until you feel that all too familiar feeling in your stomach. It’s a fantastic shower, without a doubt, it’s just that you doubt whether you’re getting much cleaner…

“Guys,” you say, “stop. I can’t take any more. Please, don’t.”

“Maybe we should listen,” August says, and Marshall raises his eyebrows in surprise. “After all, she still has an open tab for two.”

“Oh god, no. Not tonight,” you beg, “seriously, I…” You want to continue, but you’re shushed by both guys.

“Tonight is done, princess,” August says, “you’re done.” Suddenly, a wave of complete exhaustion washes over you that threatens to make your knees give out.

“It’s okay,” Marshall murmurs in your ear while he runs his hands over your back, “let’s get you to bed, okay?”

The guys get you ready for bed as if you have ‘handle with care’ tattooed on your forehead, and you smile all the way through it. They dry you off so carefully that you have to ask them to hurry up a bit, causing all three of you to laugh. Soon, you are in bed, which is a whole process of finding out which of whose limbs go where, but when you finally settle into a position that is comfortable for all three of you, you all sigh.

“Comfortable?” August asks, and you can’t do anything but nod and whisper the softest ‘yeah’ against his skin. He kisses your forehead just as Marshall does the same to your shoulder. “Good.”

[presleyhearted]

Just in Time | one-shot

・❥・Pairing : Elvis Presley x reader

・❥・Genre: Time Travel!AU, angst, fluff,'70s!Elvis, loosely based on the TV show 'Timeless.'

・❥・Word Count: 7.6k

・❥・Summary: You are a part of a small team of people whose job is to time travel to the past, to prevent someone and his gang from changing history. But on a mission to protect a certain famous figure from the '70s, things take a turn. You are left to face the consequences of bringing the king of rock 'n roll himself to the year 2023.

・❥・Ratings & Warnings : SFW. A lot of angst, mentions of death, brief period of Elvis being unconscious, mentions of health conditions. Nothing too major though, don't worry.

・❥・Author's Notes: Hi! So this is my very first one-shot, I guess? I've never written one before and I have no idea what is the appropriate word count for one, if I'm being honest. This can also be read as Austin!Elvis if you prefer. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy! Also I want to mention that this is not cross-posted anywhere else. This is my writing, please do not copy this.

@literally-just-elvis-fics

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

“They are taking too long, “ You said, as you nervously fiddled with your fingers. 

“They’ll be back soon. Don’t fret too much Y/N, “ Your boss, Francine, replies with her arms crossed as she portrays all confidence and calmness. You still can’t believe that it’s been three years since Francine recruited you as part of her team, and how long it took her to convince you that it wasn’t a practical joke. 

After all, who the hell would believe someone who tells you that they are offering you a job to be a time traveller? It sounds like a classical plot from a sci-fi movie, you thought. But something in the corner of your mind, perhaps that wishful thinking of the child version of you - brought you to call Francine from the number left on the business card she gave you. 

Once she met you at what she labelled the headquarters, which was really an underground bunker that seemed to be reminiscent of the dystopian movies that were once popular, you began to believe her. Well, and then she showed you a circular-type of metal vehicle with it’s contents inside involving three seats with multiple seatbelts and all the technicalities of the engine and the buttons to operate it. Then and there, Francine told you it was the time machine - and the only one ever in the world. She then told you that it has been test-driven before by herself and the scientists and engineers involved in its creation. 

And so, you accepted. 

It turned out you weren’t the only sceptic though. Francine approached two other people to be part of her team, and eventually, just like you they accepted. The actual job itself was not time travelling for the sake of time travelling. Each mission entails that you and the two other people - Ashton and Colin - were to prevent a particular man by the name of Max and his gang from changing history. They were ruthless and would go above and beyond to create havoc. With each mission, you held your breath and hoped and prayed that the three of you would return to the present time unscathed. That and successfully completing the mission. 

The three of you would always go on the missions together, as without one of you - it’ll be harder to achieve the aim. Until Francine noticed that you were more tired than usual and had a fever running, which she then decided that Ashton and Colin go ahead without you. It is not that you didn’t trust them, it’s just the anxiety of the waiting. 

And so, here you were pacing back and forth. 

“I should’ve gone with them.” You looked at Francine, in which she shakes her head. 

“You and I both know that you weren’t well enough.” 

“But I’m perfectly fine now!” 

“Now, yes. But a while ago you passed out on the couch.” 

You know that she has a point, but it still didn’t settle the nerves in your stomach. Like something has gone horribly wrong with the mission. 

You sighed, “I just have this sickening feeling that something did not go well.” You admit to her. 

“The mission was simple.” Francine argues.

You shake her head, “No, it’s not. Going back to 1972 to track down Max and his gang from possibly murdering a famous star - is anything but simple. What if they got themselves caught? Got themselves killed? What if they did more harm than good?”

“Have faith, Y/N. Ashton and Colin have done this a thousand times.”

Despite her efforts to calm you down, your anxiety cannot help but build up and you spill your thoughts. 

“Not without me they haven’t.” You say, running a hand through your face now.

“I mean, if I’m being honest why the hell is Max targeting Elvis Presley?” You shoot Francine a confused look. 

“I don’t know. We don’t know. But I do know that Max is a deviously smart man. He doesn’t do things just because.” Francine answers. 

All our past missions that you embarked on were self-explanatory. Abraham Lincoln’s assassination, The Watergate Scandal, Henry the VIII, The Second World War, The Moon Landing etc. If you ever had to protect a specific historical figure, they were mainly previous presidents, part of the government, members of monarchy for example. Never have you and the team ever encountered a mission whereby the focus is on an entertainer. Sure, it is undeniable that in the world of performers and actors, they are some that are famous no matter what. Those ones that are still so well-known despite no longer being on Earth. Elvis Presley is one of them. But you are so frustrated on why you cannot figure out why target him? Of course, there is no denying of his impact on music. But music is simply just music. 

Also, not to mention, you have been an Elvis fan since you could remember. Growing up with your grandparents endlessly playing his records whenever you would be at their house. So, although you cannot visit as often as you used to when you were younger, those same records played in your own apartment. This in itself just adds to your frustration because how could you, a very dedicated Elvis fan - not have even an inkling of an idea on why Max and his gang would target him? 

“They are coming!” One of the tech people behind the computer yells, both altering you and Francine who share a look of alert. 

A strong gust of wind blows against everyone as the time machine appears out of thin air, effectively standing still on the empty ground just opposite you, Francine and the team of tech people and scientists behind their computers. You smooth out your hair from the havoc caused by the strong wind. The engine stutters to a silence. 

You feel your heartbeat racing impossibly faster than ever. This is it. Once the door opens, you’ll have your answers to your questions. But what those answers may be - that you are unsure of. 

The door to the time machine slides open, revealing the people inside. You sigh in relief to see your colleagues and friends - Ashton and Colin. Both are breathing and are very much alive, but are sweating profusely and appear to have gone through hell and back. In summary, both are alive but it was definitely not an easy mission. But your breath gets caught up in your throat as your eyes cast over the unconscious figure that has their arms wrapped around Ashton and Colin’s shoulder. 

“Please, do not tell me that’s who I think it is.” You say in warning, clearly rhetorically. Because anyone, you don’t even have to be a fan to know that is definitely him. Sure there are hundreds of Elvis tribute artists out there, but knowing what you know in the nature of your job - that is most certainly an unconscious Elvis Presley that they are carrying. He is wearing that infamous white jumpsuit, the one with all the intricate details of the gemstones and a blue silk scarf wrapped around his neck. Rings upon rings adorned his fingers. 

“Surprise?” Colin says half-joking, half- terrified at the glare you are shooting them two. 

“You-” 

“We can explain.” Ashton interrupts, putting his hand up. 

“I defended both of you against Y/N’s concerns, you better have a good explanation for this.” Francine speaks up, her forehead suddenly knotted. 

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

“. . . now do you see why we had no choice?” Ashton finishes explaining. You have been listening to their explanation for the past thirty minutes, as the famous rock ‘n roll star remains unconscious on the bed. His chest rising and falling. 

Initially, they were both sent there to protect Elvis Presley and to do it quietly. But in a turn of events, both reasonably couldn’t have avoided, they had no choice but to carry him to the time machine and just go, just as the bullets of Max and his gang rained on the exterior. They hoped to find Elvis Presley awake, but Max had other plans and planned to hurt the star while he was in his slumber in his Las Vegas penthouse. Luckily, Ashton and Colin were a step ahead and figured his plan out - but they had no second to waste. They had to act fast, with no time to really think about the consequences. And now, after hearing their story, you really couldn’t blame them for their choices. You feel that you would’ve done the exact same thing. 

“I just heard word that Max has time jumped again. November 22, 1963 Dallas,Texas.” Francine reports. 

“The assassination 0f JFK.” You respond quickly. 

All three of you begin to stand up from your seats, ready to head towards the wardrobe to change into clothing suitable for the period of time that you are about to enter. Francine, however, stops you all from getting to the door before anything. 

“Ashton and Colin go. Y/N, stay here.” Francine says. 

You begin to protest, “What? No-”

“You watch over Elvis here. You know the most about him compared to all of us here, plus you are medically trained.” Francine says. 

She was right. When Elvis wakes up, it’s not like there is the option of rushing him to the hospital in case of anything. And the usual doctor and nurse that were hired by Francine, have already left as Friday evening is quickly approaching. It was only down to you. You graduated with a bachelor’s in History and then went on to graduate from nursing school. It is only logical that you stay behind and look after Elvis. 

But, you being naturally stubborn, still persist to protest. 

You were about to argue that Ashton and Colin may need to rest as well, but seeing as they luckily obtained no injuries, left out that argument. 

“But they won’t have a historian with them.” You attempt to argue. 

Knowing that Francine saw how anxious you looked while awaiting Colin and Ashton to return, she must hear you out this time round. You don’t think you can bare another moment of that nerves of knowing it was only them two navigating their way through such a point in American history. It can’t be handled lightly. There is no way. 

“She does have a point, Francine.” Ashton says.

“Yes, they will.”

“Who?” Colin speaks up, curiously asking. 

“Me.” Francine smiles confidently. 

“I-”

“Come on, it’s only one trip. I am a historian myself, should I remind you all.” She explains, which is true. You asked her yourself when you were newly-hired on why she hired you, when she could just go on these missions herself. Her reasoning was that she was the main manager here. She is handling and managing not just the team, but the other employees and the entire operation. So, she went on to look for someone who will solely focus on fulfilling the role of historian. Luckily for her, she found you to be well-versed in history and medically competent. 

After a while of back and forth conversation, you sighed in defeat and agreed to Francine’s decision. All three of them soon boarded the time machine and disappeared into thin air. You just hoped and prayed that they all come back successfully soon. 

As Ashton and Colin have explained, they escaped with Elvis when he was in deep sleep, which he still is. Although he is not injured in anyway, you believe that it doesn’t hurt to still do your checks on him when he wakes up. It is not everyday that someone from the past travels 50 years into the future. And not to mention, someone who you know has several health conditions. 

Now that they were gone, your focus was solely on the raven-haired star that remained asleep on the bed. There were only three rooms in the underground headquarters, in case anyone in the team wanted to sleep here instead of going back to their own house. Even whilst asleep, you cannot help but admire him. Tanned skin, infamous black hair, and not to mention his many jumpsuits. You feel that even without all the glitz and glamour, he would still look effortlessly handsome. 

A groan disrupts you from staring at him, a sound that came from him. 

Shit. You think to yourself. You were still so caught up in trying to process the happenings of the last few hours, you actually haven’t mentally prepared a script or something on how you’ll respond from his questions. Because you know he’ll have questions, any sane person would. 

“W-Where am I? Goddamnit, Red! Why is the damn light so bright in here?” He curses, his hand quickly shielding his eyes from the brightness of the light above him. 

“Um. . . I-I’m sorry. I’ll dim them a little.” You say, hardly recognising the timidness of your voice. You go to the light switch and click the button to lower the brightness, then frantically go back to your chair beside him. 

But now it’s different. Now Elvis Presley has his eyes open, a beautiful blue that you only saw in photos and old videos on youtube. His eyebrows are quirked up in confusion with his eyes squinting at you, as if trying to make sense of the situation. 

“What. . . “ He trails off, “You’re not Red.” He mumbles. 

“No, I’m not.” 

He begins to sit himself up, but you were quick to stand up and gently encourage him to lay back down. 

“Please, lie back down. I promise I won’t hurt you. I-I just need to do a few checks.” You say, attempting to bring back the confidence in your voice. But with his gaze so fixated on you, as if he is studying every inch of your face, you feel yourself heat up. 

He fortunately follows your instructions, but his questions spew out. 

You get out your pen-light from your pocket and shine it into each of his eyes, noting down ‘pupils equal and reactive.’  You then instruct him to try and push back from your hands, and to raise his arms and legs. This is to test his strength and ability to follow instruction. You note down that all are normal and are competent. 

Elvis sighs, “What’s your name, honey?” He says, southern drawl prominent and you feel a weakness in your knees. 

“Y/N.”

“Beautiful name. Y/N, can you please tell me what’s goin’ on?” 

You nod, still avoiding eye contact, “I will. I just need to check your vitals, okay?”

He nods. 

You fit a blood pressure cuff around his arm and take a stethoscope, listening intently to the systolic and diastolic beats. You are aware that due to his cardiac condition, he is hypertensive. The reading shows ‘140/90.’ Although you do not know his normal range, your clinical judgement says that these figures ring true with hypertensive patients. 

You then continue on to check his other vitals; heart rate, respiratory rate, oxygen saturation, temperature. All seem to be within his normal range, although he is presenting a little tachycardic - which is normal for him, and as you have yet to tell him what’s going on, you are sure anxiety mixed into it too. 

“Okay. All seem to be fine.” You conclude. 

“Can I sit up now, doll?” He asks, and you finally look at him. 

“Yeah, of course. But take it slow.” You warn him and decide to place your arms around him, helping him sit up. Once he does so, he leans against the wall and you return back to your seat. 

He looks around the room and you know that look in his eyes. The look that he is aware something bizarre is happening, his face glances to the modern technology. A flat screen TV and laptop on the table.

“I’m not in the hospital, am I?” He asks a smart question as you have just performed a nursing assessment on him. 

You shake your head, “No, you’re not in the hospital.”

“Where then? How’d I get here?” 

You took a deep breath, “Some people tried to harm you and so, my colleagues, they had no choice but to bring you here. You are safe here.”

“Where exactly is here, honey?”

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating on how to explain it all to him. Or how much you can really say to him, as it is already such a danger that he is not in his time now. But then you remember the device that Francine told you about, a device that will help him forget about all this before he goes back. 

So then you explain it to him as best as possible, leaving out a few details of course. You tell him that he is in the year 2023 and about the nature of your job. You then tell him that someone was out to get him, and that’s the only reason why he has been brought here and now. You of course left out the details about Max and his gang, and also did not mention why you have this job in the first place. You simply told him that you time travel to protect history, to make sure that everything is how it is. No further detail. Afterall, once you return him back to his time period, he will naturally forget about all of this. 

Surprisingly, he took it better than you thought. Well, he initially thought that he was in some form of afterlife due to the unusual presence of modern technologies he had never seen before. But then you reassured him that is very far from the truth. Then he thought that someone was playing a prank on him, one of the members of the MM as he said, but you quickly shut down that theory of his. But then pretty soon after all that, he was calm and believed the truth of the situation. As a fan, after reading through many books written about him, you knew that Elvis was an open-minded person. He always believed that there is always so much more than what there is, so it didn’t come much to a surprise to you when he eventually did believe that time travel is real and he is indeed half a century into the future. That and also, unbeknownst to you, how could you not believe someone so beautiful and gentle with him? He was checking you out, and you oblivious as ever, did not even realise it. 

Elvis reveals that he is hungry, just like you predicted. The entire staff has decided to do a group order from a fast food place, in which you ordered two burgers, one coke, and one pepsi. A knock resounds on the door as one of the tech people hands you what you’ve ordered, so you thank him and settle back down to your seat. 

You hand Elvis a burger and a pepsi, “Thanks honey, I could eat.” He says to you, a grin finally showing on his lips. 

You smile back at him and eat your own burger. He is quiet for a while, savouring the flavours of the food in his hands. 

He takes a sip out of the Pepsi and smirks at you, “Hmm. . . how’d you know I like Pepsi?”

You should’ve seen that question coming. You didn’t even ask what he wanted to eat and drink, and yet, you have gotten it exactly right. It can be seen as a lucky guess, but the fact that you are a fan of his - now that is a much more believable reason. 

“Uh, lucky guess I suppose, Mr Presley.” You say, completely lying to your idol. You decided you didn’t really want to reveal to him that you were a fan of his, it did not seem to be professional. 

He whistles, “Mighty guess that is. Please call me Elvis, Mr Presley is my Dad.” He chuckles, and you nod. 

“Right. Sorry, Mr Pre- uh, I mean Elvis.”

You avoid eye contact again, feeling flustered by his intense gaze. You take a sip out of your bottle of coca cola. 

“You look out of sorts. C’mere, honey.” He says. 

“What?” You turn your head back to him, so much out of avoiding eye contact. 

“Sit next to me. “ Elvis says, patting the empty spot next to him on the bed. 

You hesitate. Sitting across from him in a chair was already making you flustered, and now he wants you to sit beside him? You don’t know how you could cope - the fanatic in you and the work version of you are suddenly at war. 

“C’mon, I don’t bite. “ He smirks. 

And so you sigh in defeat, standing up and sitting beside him on the bed with your back leaning against the wall like him. He smiles now in triumph. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask a reasonable and professional question. 

You have never brought back someone from the past to the present time. Lord knows what the possible side effects could be, what those could do to the person’s body. Even more so, someone you know is already experiencing challenges with his health back in his time period. It does not go unnoticed by you that Elvis’ breathing is abnormal and it is evident in the way he talks, how he would mumble his words before pronouncing them clearly. But you know that this is not a time travelling side effect, this is how he was back then - his known respiratory issues. Nevertheless, you feel your heart pinch at the reality of seeing it all before you. 

“Better now I have something to eat. Now, I’d much prefer to talk about you.” He says his flirtatious ways are not a surprise, but nevertheless you feel your face heat up. 

You spend the next hour just talking with Elvis. You find yourself mentally pinching yourself every now and again, as the reality of it all feels incomprehensible to you who is an Elvis fan. You find him stuttering from time to time and mumbling his words, but that boyish charm and that all too well-known southern drawl in his tone. You found yourself laughing, and you are pretty sure that your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You’ve heard about Elvis’ sense of humour, but experiencing it yourself is a different matter. 

However, you found that no matter how much you try to divert the conversation back to him, he persists on getting it back to you. In which you found yourself involuntarily blushing as he gazed at you intently, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your lips from time to time. An action you know could very well indicate something, but before that could really go anywhere - you turn your head away very swiftly and clear your throat. 

Reminding yourself that this is work. You are at work. Work that so happens to now involve being in a room watching over Elvis Presley. 

“I-uhm-” You sputter, trying to find something, well anything really to change the subject of conversation. Your prayers seem to have been answered by the door opening and in comes Francine. 

“How’d it go?” You quickly ask her. 

She nods, “Good. All good.” Francine replies, going with a short answer knowing that she needs to be cautious with her words, as confidentiality is key with someone from the past being in the room. 

You sighed in relief at the news, “I’m glad.” 

Francine shuts the door behind her and approaches Elvis, they exchange introductions. But you know that Francine will receive a report from you later on about how he is really doing, in terms of health. 

“Y/N, can I please talk to you outside?” Francine asks, glancing back at Elvis very briefly. 

You nod and look back at Elvis, “I’ll be back, okay?” 

He smirks, “I’m not going anywhere, honey.” 

Once you exit the room and are now in Francine’s office, you are shortly joined by Ashton and Colin. They proceed to explain the details of their mission, but all your brain could focus on is the rock ‘n roll star that is sitting down by himself only a few feet away from you. Nevertheless, you pay attention to their explanation enough to know that the mission was a success. 

“So, how has he been?” Francine asks, you know she’s referring to Elvis. 

You nod, “Fine. Nothing too crazy, which is lucky, given that he was dragged into a time machine and dropped 50 years into the future.” You emphasise, as you shot both Ashton and Colin a look. 

They both just shrugged. 

“Hey, that’s good news right.” Ashton says. 

You sighed, “We need to get him back as soon as possible. Keeping him longer than necessary, well the fact that he is even here at all is already madness itself. “ 

Even though deep down in your heart, your fan heart, you didn’t quite mind that you get to spend time with him. But you know that this is not his time, he has to go back. 

Francine nods at your words, “I agree with Y/N. The longer we keep him here, the more possible consequences it could have to the past. We can’t have that.” 

Colin speaks up, “But how do we know that Max isn’t going to go back for him?” 

You become quiet. He does have a point, one you didn’t really think over. If he is returned now, how do we know that Max isn’t just going to repeat what he already attempted the first time around?

You all grow quiet for a few seconds. 

It was Francine who was the first to speak up, “We can’t be certain. But I do know that Max’s patience is not the greatest. If he does go back, he would’ve done it by now while we are here talking. Look how fast he time jumped to JFK. I have a feeling he won’t be returning for Elvis.” She confidently concludes. 

Colin slowly nods, “Fair enough. But I say we wait a while before returning Elvis back, just to make sure.” 

“Yeah, I agree with Colin.” Ashton says. 

You all then conclude that Elvis will have to spend three more hours before he is returned back to 1973. It is now just gone 10PM, which means all three of you need to go home now and get some rest, because you never know when Max time jumps again and you need all the energy you can when that happens. On that note, Colin and Ashton go home and you are now walking back to the room with Francine to say goodbye to Elvis for now. Francine informed you that she has called back the Doctor and Nurse to watch over him in the meantime, while you go home to rest. 

You both enter the room to find Elvis has fallen asleep. You quietly approach him and tap his shoulder gently, preparing to say your goodbye. He instantly wakes up at your action, as you know that he is a light sleeper - as his chronic insomnia being one thing he tried to fight. 

“Hi, darling.” He instantly grins at you. 

“I just wanted to say goodbye.”

He frowns at your words, “Goodbye?”

“Only for the meantime. I need to go home to get some sleep, but I’ll be back in a few hours.” You smile at him. 

But your words don’t seem to ease the frown on his lips. 

“Can’t you just stay here?” He asks, voice soft. 

Francine clears her throat and you almost forgot that she is in the room. 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Presley. I have the most competent medical professionals that will look after you while Y/N is resting.” Francine says.

But Elvis shakes his head, “No thanks, Ma’am. But I’m perfectly fine with Y/N.” 

You sigh at his stubbornness. 

“I assure you, they’ll take good care of you.” Francine repeats again. 

“I need to rest, Elvis. You’ll be fi-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Elvis grasps your hand and you gasp. 

“What if I come with her?” He asks, looking at Francine. 

You and Francine both share a look of shock, eyes widened. 

“Elvis, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say, knowing that this is an insane idea and judging by the look on Francine’s face she’s sharing similar thoughts. 

“Mr Presley, with all due respect, I don’t think that is a safe option for you. Y/N will return after three hours, and then we’ll get you back home.” Francine explains, hoping that it is enough to convince him. 

Elvis’ eyebrows furrowed, “You’ll take me back to my time in three hours?”

You nod, “Yeah, the hours will go by fast.” 

He is silent for a while, his head down low in thought. You exchanged looks with Francine, perhaps he’ll finally agree. 

“Even more reason why I should go with Y/N.” He speaks up and you sigh. 

“Ma’am, I appreciate your concern about my health.” He looks at Francine, “But I-I’m most comfortable with Y/N. She’s the one I know the most since being here. I promise I won’t be trouble. It’s like you say after three hours, I’ll be gone.” He pleads, eyes hopeful. 

You slightly understand his stubbornness now. He does have a point somehow, if you look at it all from his perspective. It’s not a normal circumstance at all, and the person that he really knows was you. He only trusts you. And who can blame him? It was such an unusual situation, and you know in yourself you’d be acting the exact same way if you were in his shoes. 

You are snapped out of your thoughts when you hear Francine finally say something.

“Alright. I trust you to keep your word, Mr. Presley.” Francine says, giving him a look of warning. 

Elvis smiles in triumph, “Thank you, Ma’am.” 

Francine then turns to you, “Are you okay with this, Y/N?” 

You nod, not really being able to say anything right now.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Oh my god, this is actually happening. You say to yourself, trying to calm down and not freak out. Before leaving the headquarters, Francine was quick to warn you. She knew that you were a fan of Elvis, and of course by him being in your apartment - that is definitely crossing the line you’ve made between work life and personal life. But this is it. 

The drive to your apartment was anything but quiet, as even in the night time, the difference between the ‘70s and 2023 are strikingly standing out. This of course meant that Elivs was gawking at the difference in buildings, and the signs, the clothes people wore, and not to mention the cars that you drove past. It made your heart hurt a little to see him so excited, knowing that this will be the only time he’ll really live to see 2023. 

You’ve planned to go home to rest, but you really do think you won’t have much sleep. You’ll be too busy trying to worry about Elvis. You break out of your thoughts as you open the door to your apartment, letting Elvis enter first and then you. You quickly lock the door and flick the light on. 

“Make yourself at home. I’m just going to get changed, okay?” You tell him. 

Elvis smiles, “This is a cute place you’ve got here, honey.”

You change out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable - the typical sweatpants and sweatshirt. You then opted for letting you hair down, out of the strict ponytail it was previously in. You quickly to your night skin care routine, and went back to the living room. 

You see Elvis not on the couch, as you expected, but in front of the Google Home Hub that was on your kitchen counter. His eyebrows were furrowed as he muttered curses to himself, frustration so evident. You bit back a smile at his confusion.

You walk over to him, “Hi, what are you up to?” 

He looks over to you, his eyes briefly glancing at you from head-to-toe and not in a subtle way either. He clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck and points at the Google Home Hub. 

“This. The hell is this thing? What’s a tiny television doing on your kitchen counter?” He asks, and you can’t help but laugh at his assumption. 

“It’s not a TV. It’s like a um. . .  how could I describe it,” You mumble to yourself and then snapped your fingers.

“It’s like you know a very thin computer screen? Well, it’s that. You can search any information that you want to know, it’s like an encyclopaedia. But instead of having a keyboard attached to it, you can just tap with your fingers. But on this version, you can use your voice.” 

Elvis tilts his head at you, “Honey, I don’t know what the hell you just said.” He laughs.

You cannot help but laugh at his adorable confusion. 

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Your eyes open, awakening from slumber. You yawn, quickly glancing at the clock in your living room as it reads 12.30AM. In just thirty minutes, you’ll be meeting back up with the team at the Headquarters - ready for Elvis to go home. Speaking of, you look around in a slight panic, but sigh in relief once you see Elvis on the couch with his eyes wide open as he stares at the ceiling. You originally thought about just sleeping in your own bed, but decided it wasn’t the best idea if you wanted to keep an idea on him. Instead, you opted for sleeping on the other couch right across from him in the living room. 

You spoke for a long time before you fell asleep. Both of you are so caught up in your own conversation. After of course trying to explain to Elvis the technology of today, in which he failed terribly at, but you both just laughed at it. He then went on to ask about what other ‘future things’ are available that differs greatly from the 1970s. But you also explained to him that some trends have been going in cycles and are coming back, like fashion for instance. He was quick to find your collection of vinyls, which inevitably led to him discovering your numerous vinyls of his records. He was quick to tease you about it, in which you shyly admitted that you were in fact a fan. 

But then the conversation turned from light-hearted to something a little heavier. You just weren’t prepared for it at all. Elvis noticed how whenever he would make a comment about him being an ‘old man’ in this time, you would grow silent very quickly and refuse to look him in the eye. Then again when he would question and wonder how he’d be living in this time period, so far from the young man that bursted into the scene in the 1950s. On how many people really are a fan of him, how many people remember him. Remember his music, he means. As he presumed that he retired from the music industry and just settled into family life. That is all his presumption of where he is in 2023. 

But then he caught you simply nodding hesitatingly at his theories, and he knew then and there that there was something you were hiding. You knew that before he leaves this time, his memories will be erased anyway, and so you told him. You told him about his unfortunate ending in this world. 

It was difficult for you to tell him, as you saw how watery his eyes got in seconds and how he was shaking his head in refusal of the truth. You couldn’t help but approach him and wrap your arms around him, wishing and hoping that it was different. You know that hugging him is not professional, but this one time, you had to make an exception. 

You saw that it was already 11PM now, it was time to get rest. You knew that your eyes were growing heavy, but you were worried about Elvis, knowing that sleep never was easy for him. But he assured you to not mind him, and just close your eyes. 

Now, it was 12.30am and you are curious to know if he had any shut eye. 

“You’re awake.” You say, and he turns his head to you with that smile of his. 

“I woke up just a little while ago, don’t worry.” He replies. 

You nod and you are unsure of what to say. Your last conversation before falling asleep was a heavy subject. 

“You know, I wished you lived in my time.” He jokes. 

“Why?”

“I-It’s hard to find people to talk to about all the stuff I wanna talk about. You know, they brush it off and are never really interested in it all.” He says, referring to earlier times when you let him speak extensively about all the spiritual books that he’s read and his questions about the universe, and the world in general. 

You are unsure how to respond, “I’m sorry. “ knowing that he always found it difficult to have someone to talk to about his interest, as everyone, even his closest friends laughed at him and didn’t really listen. 

“It gets so lonesome sometimes.” He continues, and you feel pain in your heart for him.

“And I ain’t stupid, you know. I know when a girl is pretending to be listening to me just because they want something else from me. But not you. And I don’t think it’s because it’s your job,” He shakes his head, “I think it’s just cause you are a good person. I can see that.” 

You smile, glad that he feels that way. 

“Thank you, Elvis. But you really are smarter than you give yourself credit for. Nothing you ever say can be too much or crazy.” You say to him, and he stands up and approaches you. 

He is silent, but his gaze keeps flickering from your eyes and your lips.

“Damn, how I wish I’d met you in my time.” He whispers, and then slowly you find him planting a kiss on your cheek. Your face heats up as he pulls away, and he is grinning at your flustered expression. 

Not long after, you receive a call from Francine that it’s time to meet back at the headquarters. You quickly change into your work uniform, grab your car keys and head out the door with Elvis. The drive back to the headquarters was quiet. 

Once entering, you immediately are greeted by Ashton, Colin and Francine. Francine tells you that she has decided that you join the team now in returning Elvis to his time period, after all, he’ll forget about this all anyway once you land there. Francine instructs you that to wipe his memory, you’ll have to wrap a bracelet around his wrist, which will make him fall into a slumber. Once he is asleep, the bracelet will shine green indicating that his memory from this event has been successfully removed, and you can then take off the bracelet. 

“Well, it was nice seeing 2023 even if it was short.” He says, grinning and then goes on to thank Francine. 

You were surprised at first on why Francine told you that Ashton won’t be coming on this trip. It will only be you, Elvis, and Colin. But Francine explained that Ashton opted out to get more rest, and besides, there’s only three seats in the time machine. Colin and Elvis went ahead on being seated and putting seatbelts on. 

This is when you pull Ashton aside, “You are the most energetic person I know, Are you okay?” You bombard him with questions. 

Ashton chuckles, “I’m more than okay, Y/N. “

“Then why did you-”

He leans over to your ear to whisper, “You are a huge fan of his. This will mean more to you than it will to me.”

You look at him in surprised, “Thank you.” You say to him sincerely. 

He simply smirks and ushers you to hurry, “Go, now. Before the machine leaves without you.”

“Oh, shut up.”

It was quick. Next thing you know, you have landed. After regaining initial shock from being in the ‘70s, you feel yourself become upset at the prospect of saying goodbye to Elvis. You know that you have to do this. But from all the conversations you’ve had in such a short period of time, being that close to him - you wished it never ended. 

But it will now, because now you are both standing in his hotel suite. Colin already said his goodbyes, as he waited outside the door. 

“Quickest trip I’ve ever been on, a plane has nothing on that machine.” He jokes, in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

You simply chuckle. 

“So, this is the part where you’ll make me forget?” He confirms, eyes downcasted. 

You nod, “Yeah.”

He has already explained how the bracelet will work. 

“Do you have to?” He asks, voice soft and gentle and you almost want to say ‘No, I don’t want to.’

You smile a little at him, “You know I do. It’ll mess-”

“Mess history up, I know.”

Silence.

“What if you stay?”

How you wish it were that easy. 

You shake your head, “You know I can’t do that, Elvis.”

He sighs, knowing you are right. He belongs in this time and you belong in yours. It’s just such a cruel thing that the one person he feels connected to, more than anyone else, happens to be you - a girl very, very far away from him. He almost cursed at the universe on why it had to be this difficult. 

“Thank you for everything, Y/N. “ He finally says, as he takes a seat on his bed. 

“It was no problem at all. “ You say, words are suddenly hard to find. 

“Are you ready?” You ask, in which he nods and takes a deep breath. 

You place the bracelet around his wrist, and in a matter of seconds - his eyes close. You were quick to hold onto the back of his head, as you gently placed his head on the pillow. You then propped up his legs, so now that he was in a comfortable position as he sleeps. The bracelet turns green, and you remove it from him. 

Perhaps you didn’t realise it then, but now you do - tears spill from your eyes, slowly staining your cheeks. A whirlwind of emotions escape your heart - the last hours of being with him, and the reality of his ending. You wished you didn’t have to make him forget, in hopes that he’ll change his ways and live longer. But you knew you couldn’t do that. 

As you look at the raven-haired man in front of you, you gently leave a kiss on his cheek and whisper to him, “I’ll always remember you.” 

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Elvis is awoken from his sleep by Jerry, who tells him that rehearsals start soon and he should get something to eat. But Jerry’s words escape Elvis’ focus. 

“E.P?” Jerry says, trying to catch his attention. 

“Yeah?” Elvis replies.

“You okay?” Jerry asks, worry evident on his face. 

Elvis furrows his eyebrows, “Yeah, I'm good. I just had this really strange dream, man.” 

“What dream?”

“Well, I can’t really tell if it was a dream. It was dark but there was this voice, a woman’s voice.” Elvis explains, his forehead knotted in confusion. 

Jerry wanted to ask if it may be his mother. 

But Elvis confirms that it’s certainly not, “It wasn’t my mama. No, this voice is different.” 

Jerry crosses his arms over his chest, “What was the voice saying?”

Elvis shakes his head and looks back at his friend, “She kept saying the same words over and over again.”

“Which is?”

“I’ll always remember you.” 

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

It has been a few weeks now since Elvis returned to his time, and so you went back to your normal life. It was hard at first, trying to process the reality of everything that happened. You know it’s different now though whenever you listen to his music, a different kind of feeling. 

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that again?” You say into your phone. You were on the phone to your best friend, who was planning a surprise for their partner, and so he needed your help. Now he was saying the address to the surprise location, and you frantically were trying to find a piece of paper to jot down the address. 

You go through magazines and post-it notes filled with phone numbers and random lists written down. You finally find a small blank piece of paper, slipped in the very corner of one of the magazines on the coffee table. You click your pen and are ready to scribble down the address, but pause when you find out the paper isn’t exactly blank as you remove it from inside the magazine. 

Your eyes quickly trail off the words written, “Um sorry, can I call you back?” You say to your friend on the phone, in which he agrees and you both end the phone call. 

You gasp in disbelief because there on the paper was his handwriting. It read:

‘Thank you for listening and being there for me. You helped me more than you think, Y/N. Don’t forget me.’ E.P.

You were certain that it was his handwriting. You can’t believe it. There you were thinking that you’ll only have a memory of him, but now there is this. Something that you can treasure forever and you can’t help, but think that sometimes life has it’s way of gifting you small miracles. . . just in time. 

[100lxtters]

The green armoured Daimyo

CHAPTER 8 / THE START

!! THIS STORY IS FOR 18+ VIEWING ONLY, MINORS DNI !!

AO3 I Masterlist

Fic masterlist I Prev chap I Next chap

Boba Fett x f!reader 7.6k words Life had changed, everything is all new now but now things are more in the open Dom! Boba Fett x sub! Reader Chapter warnings: hair pulling, praise, degradation, biting and leaving marks, a bit of possession on Boba's side, technically public sex in an empty throne room on said throne, PiV sex, reader on top but not topping Mando'a translations: vaar'tur - morning alor - leader/boss mesh'la - beautiful ad'ika - little one ba'gedet'ye - you're welcome

...........................................................

Each step towards the kitchen hurt, the top of your thighs rubbing against your underwear pushing them up, the rough material running past your aching pussy. Maybe you underestimated just how much Boba would stretch you.

Not that you regretted it, not for a minute.

You knew you could have probably sorted yourself out with some bacta to somehow take the edge off, but you enjoyed the pain in someway. A reminder that last night was real and not a dream. Maker you hope it happens again, that it wasn't a one time thing.

Playing with the collar of your turtle neck to keep the marks from Boba hidden, the last thing you wanted was for people to be staring at you. Not that you had seen anyone yet this morning.

As you reach the kitchen you let out a heavy sigh, there were so many dishes to clean. Either no one was hired to clean up from the celebrations or whoever did just didn't do their job at all. Your eyes just scanning the room, there was no way you could do this all by yourself, you'd be here literally all day.

Fuck this. You turn around and head to the throne room, Boba couldn't have intended for you to being cleaning this shit up the next day, he definitely would've had someone on this job, right?

Climbing the steps you notice there were a group of people in front of the throne, Boba speaking to them, so you make your way into one of the booths again and wait from them to leave. The room was pretty much empty so you could hear everything, it seemed like they were starting here, maybe there was already a solution to what you come in for? Even through his helmet he sounded tired, like he had been there for hours already.

''I am pleased to have you all on the team, please follow Mistress Shand for a slight tour of your stations'' Boba finishes, seeing Fennec roll her eyes at his instructions. Watching her climb down from her usual post next to him and reaching the group signalling for them to follow her, the group of about ten of them following her.

Once everyone was out the room Boba's head turned to you, his helmet aimed straight for you, ''vaar'tur'' he says, his voice no longing sounding as tired and more cheerful now. You gave him a slight smile as you stood up, your face tightening a bit as you could feel the slight burn against your underwear again. You heard him chuckle under the helmet as he added ''everything okay, princess?''

Feeling your cheeks heat up as you reply ''yeah... well- no, actually. I wanted to speak to you about something'' changing the conversation as you got closer to him. He sat up, leaning one arm across his knee as he signalled with his other hand to carry on. ''Right, erm...'' you suddenly felt nervous, you had never really complained about much since working on the planet, and to do so with the man you had now fucked felt... wrong.

''Please, speak your mind'' Boba adds.

Taking a deep breath in, ''I was wondering if anyone was assigned the kitchen last night during or after the party? There are way too many dishes for just me to do and I think- no, I need another person or few to help... please'' you say quickly, playing with your fingers behind your back.

He just sits there, digesting your statement before he replies with ''well you're in luck, some of your old co-workers and some new faces will be starting here soon.'' You give him a confused look, like sure you just saw before that there were clearly new staff starting, but old co-workers? ''I offered some of Garsa's staff jobs since, well'' him not ending the rest of the sentence.

''Oh... well that is good then'' you nod but he still hasn't answered you about the party kitchen staff, ''and for staff last night? D-did you expect me to clean it all? Because I'm sorry sir, but there is no way I am going to be able to clean that all, it's unfair.'' Your body felt on fire, you felt so nervous talking to him like this, you hardly knew him really.

Watching as his shoulder tensed as he slightly shuffled in his throne, ''a droid was ordered to sort the kitchen out, I'm unsure why it wasn't there or why it still needs cleaning now'' he replies. Oh, so he did have something planned. Your body froze, you went to reply but he cut you to it, ''do you seriously think I would invite you to the celebrations and then get you to clean up the next morning? Is that how low your expectations are?''

There was a slight tone to his voice, almost hurt by your accusation of leaving you to do everything. Then you think back to what he told you when you started that he doesn't trust well and wants loyalty, and here you are already letting him down.

''B-Boba I'm sorry.... I was acting irrationally, I didn't mean to offend you'' you say, your eyes now looking anywhere but him as your face was bright with embarrassment.

However your head turned back to him when you heard his armour knock the throne as he rose from it, watching as he stood on the platform looking down at you. Signalling you with his hand, so you slowly walk over towards him, looking up at him as he towered over you completely on the throne platform. 

His hand instantly latches onto your hair, tugging at it slightly as his helmet turned down to be face to face with you, ''think before you act next time little one, I do not wish to have to punish you once again.'' Your eyes glue onto the visor as you felt you legs press together, sending a slight shiver up your body from the slight pressure on your pussy.

''I'm sorry, sir'' you almost whimper out, the pull on your hair being a bit tighter then you wished.

Luckily he let's go of you then, however you can feel the scowl through the helmet. This wasn't how you imagined the next day to go after you fucked, you couldn't really explain what you wished it would be like, just not this. As you looked into his visor right now you almost forgot this is the same man from last night, almost forgetting he is this hard and tough ex hunter, a man who most likely never really made connections with others.

A man who probably just fucked a woman and left the next morning, not dealing with her complaining the next morning that she had to do her job.

You imagine he was probably thinking about how annoying you were, this inconvenience. But why did you care? You'd known him a few weeks, it was your own fault acting like this, and he probably thought the same thing.

Suddenly you flinch as you see his hand move up, however you realise he was just removing his helmet, hearing the quiet hiss before revealing his face. He looked less angry then you imagined, he most then likely just was in someway, and yet now it was like he had just made his face calmer? You then felt yourself relax a little, not over ally, but seeing his face gave you an idea how he was feeling.

''Take the day off'' Boba says calmly, there was no malaise behind his words or any mockery.

''B-but..'' you begin to reply, but he just softly holds your cheek with his other hand.

His gaze changing in seconds, the tired look almost crawling back. ''Like you said, it's unfair. You shouldn't be working today anyway, I'm not really sure why you bothered to go, I should've comed you to say take the day off. I'll find out what happened and why the kitchen wasn't clean, plus it will be good work for the new staff to figure out what needs doing.''

Your stomach erupted in flutters, why was he being so different now? After how hostile you basically came in, how you accused him of making you clean that mess up, how minutes ago he clearly seemed annoyed with you; and now he was being... kind?

''Thank you'' you almost whisper, you felt guilty almost though. You felt like a child who threw a tantrum and got what she wanted, you felt like an idiot. But you just tried to give a soft smile to him instead of saying much else.

Boba then lets go off your face and sits himself back on the throne, ''come here'' he says softly signalling with his hand. So you again cautiously walk up the steps on the platform, making your way in front of him. His gloved hand grabs yours as he drags you closer to him, then grabbing your bruised hips before placing you on his thigh, face clenching again as your pants rubbed against your pussy and his grip knocked the bruises. Almost carefully he cups your cheek and turned your face to his, ''so back to my question from earlier, 'everything okay, princess?'''

''A little sore, but nothing I can't get through'' you softly smile at him.

''Did you not want any bacta? Or are you planning to get through it like a good, brave girl?'' Boba smirked at you. Kriff, it hurt for your pussy to clench right now. He must have seen your expression change a little as he muttered, ''oh you poor thing.'' He could probably feel how hot your face was through the gloves, it was like your body was on fire now, ''was I too hard on your little pussy?''

You shyly shook your head, you didn't want him to get the impression you didn't enjoy what he did. Him stretching you as much as it hurt was exciting, knowing that if you were ever to take another mans cock it would never fill you like his. That he has almost shaped your pussy different forever.

''Do you wish for me to do it again?'' He pulls your face closer, almost whispering against your lips, ''want me to make sure you're ruined for everyone? Make your pussy belong to me, and me only?''

A quiet moan is hidden in your throat, you nod and whisper ''please.''

Boba pushes his lips against yours, his kisses almost aggressive. You hold one of his shoulders and his neck to pull yourself closer to him as he helps your body straddle his. One of his hands stay on your hips, his fingers digging in deeply as the other snakes onto the back of your neck and gripping into your hair.

Your hips ached from the bruises from last night, his fingers pushing hard onto them. They're never going to go away at this point.

Under you you could feel his cock start to harden, pushing against your sore parts. His hand on the back of your neck pushing you closer to his face, making it impossible for you to leave; not that you wished to anyway. Each kiss was getting more sloppy, his tongue running across your lips to dance around your mouth. Taking every inch of you that he could get, taking over any part of your body he wanted.

You feel his hand from your hip slowly slide up your top and grope your tit over your bra, you pull your mouth back as you say breathy ''what if someone comes in?'' looking at him almost concerned.

His eyes are covered in nothing but lust as he replies ''so? You scared to have someone know that you're mine?'' he leans down to kiss your jaw as your head starts to role back, ''don't you want people to know you're getting destroyed by your alor?'' His hand on the back of your neck holding you tightly. 

''N-no, but wouldn't it... be unco- uncomfortable?'' You're trying to hold back any louder whimpers and choked moans, like sure you wanted everyone to know Boba was ruining you, but wouldn't it be embarrassing? You felt like it would be for you at least. No one would dare say anything to Boba, but you? You didn't wish to be the gossip of the Palace.

''I don't care'' he growls as he grinds against you ''I just need you, now.'' He twists your nipple as his mouth connects with yours again, swallowing the quiet moan from you. Each kiss gets more and more desperate, it was like last night had awaken something in him, making him more horny with you then usual.

You were trying to stop thinking about where you were, trying to ignore that anyone could walk in whenever. However each movement made you so aware you were on the throne, each clank of his armour and the noise of the sand under his boots. He was holding your face so close to his, making you unable to move away, keeping you on his lap where he wanted you.

Boba's lips moved off yours and started moving down your face, leaving wet kisses along your jaw onto your neck, pulling the turtle neck back before he chuckled against your skin. ''Look at these, hiding them from everyone'' placing a kiss on top of some of the bruises. ''Maybe I should add a few more, a little higher so everyone can see you're marked. Everyone can know someone owns you'' he says before sucking onto your neck, just above where the neckline was hiding them.

''S-sir'' you mutter out before a quiet moan falls out. You felt so conflicted, like yes of course you wanted people to know, how couldn't you?! But again, people talk. ''Don't w-want people to stare at me tho-though'' your head falling back a bit. His lips moving lower down adding another.

His teeth dragging along your soft skin, bruising your neck for days to come. ''Why?'' a bit of faux concern in his voice as his head pulled back, holding your face with the hand from your neck. His fingers once again pulling and twisting your nipple, ''don't want everyone to know what a dirty little whore you are? My dirty little whore?''

It was like something burst, you could feel yourself dripping so much into your underwear, his words making you soaked in seconds. Well you were already really wet yet those few words increased it.

Boba's face got closer to yours, his cheek resting against yours as he softly spoke into your ear ''get those pants off, now.''

So you did. You wiggled yourself off his lap, kicked your shoes off and dragged the pants off your legs. You could feel the lose sand under your feet, the cool air hitting your legs in seconds, but more importantly you could feel his eyes all over you.

''Maker, your poor hips'' he smirked. Looking down you almost forgot how bad they looked, the skin completely bruised, little small circles from his fingertips. He sat forward to grab them and pull your shirt up a little to get a better view, his cold gloves softly running over them, ''do you enjoy being manhandled by a big, strong man? Enjoy being overpowered in seconds?''

As his eyes reach yours again your cheeks heat up as you nod, ''yes'' you reply quietly. Your brain screaming 'just grab me whenever you want and do whatever to me' and yet you just shyly smile at him. He cups your chin as you melt under him, his thumb running over your bottom lip before slowly sliding in, your lips closing around him.

''Mesh'la'' he mutters as he watches your tongue bounce off your cheeks as it swirled around his thumb. Your eyes make contact, the both of yours full with lust for the other, thinking about last night and wanting a repeat right now. Aware of how hard his cock was and how soaked your pussy is, waiting for the other to make a move.

The first to though is Boba, slowly pulling his thumb from your mouth before grabbing your abused hips, dragging you back onto his lap. Holding you with one hand whilst the other starts to unbutton the flight suit, trying to release his throbbing dick. You were sat on his thighs as you watched, seeing his underwear first before his cock slid through the gap. Your mouth automatically opening, forever surprised at the sight of it. 

Letting out a deep shaky breath as he cupped your chin again, ''do you wanted to be fucked on this throne, princess?'' his voice a mix of soft and caring, but also demanding.

''Please... I need you'' your voice breathy, mind starting to shut off your surroundings. Feeling his fingers then dance under your underwear, the coldness of his gloved fingers almost making you jump as it ran across your clit before you let out a quiet whimper. His fingers easily slid along, you bit your lip to keep any moans inside your mouth, the two fingers going in little circles around your clit before they moved along into your hole.

You hissed a little as it was so sensitive down there from being ripped open last night, ''awe, are you all sensitive?'' Boba coos before curling his fingers inside. A quiet moan falls from your mouth as you you lean back whilst holding his knees, maker you were so horny so quickly. ''Should I just give you my dick instead?'' He asked as he smirked at you.

''Anything... I'll take anything, j-just please'' you mumble, you needed more, needed him in everyway you could right now. 

So you feel him slowly pull his fingers from your pussy, a whimper happens to escape you due to the emptiness you felt now. However you instantly felt him pull you forward, watching as he lined his cock up to your soaking hole. ''Ready?'' He smirked, you nodded whilst wiggling your hips closer, silently begging for him just to put it in.

He was slow with it, he was focused on your face, watching you clench your jaw and eyes squint. He was aware how sore your pussy must be and was trying to be as gentle as possible to start it, yet your own eyes are focused on his cock entering you. Luckily because you were so wet he slid in so easily, meaning the pain wasn't as bad as you imagined, but each inch was stretching you again.

You curse under your breath as his full length filled you, a feeling you could get used to. ''Maker, look at you, taking me so well pretty girl'' Boba mutters. You feel your whole body flush and your pussy clench around him. His hands resting on your hips as he pulled you up so you were directly on top of his cock.

''Oh f-fuck'' you moan, kriff he was so deep in you. It almost felt like he was gonna break through your walls and be in your stomach. He wasn't moving, just letting his throbbing cock rest inside, your pussy constantly fluttering around him.

It was almost like you couldn't breath right, he had fully consumed you. One of his hands from your hips moved onto your stomach, moving further down and then flicking your clit a bit, causing a quiet moan to leave you before he said ''all split open on my cock, on my throne. What a good girl.''

You could then feel his hips start to roll, you leaned forward and held his shoulders for support as he rocked your body on his dick. Trying your hardest to keep any moans down, just allowing heavy breaths only. How did he expect you to be quiet? Or did he want everyone in the Palace to know you were fucking now?

Any trace of pain had left luckily, your own wetness making it easier for Boba to move around and less tense.

He was moving your body so carefully as your pussy became wider by each motion. His grip on your hips was hard, there was a hint of pain there due to the bruises but the pleasure in your body was covering it for you.

You then felt him lift you a little before dropping you back onto him, so you push your hands harder into his shoulders to help. As you lowered back onto his dick a moan escaped you before you could stop it. ''Sorry'' you whimpered, you were trying so hard to be quiet.

''Be as loud as you wish, I don't care'' Boba grunted as he placed a kiss on your jaw, ''I only care about how you enjoy taking this dick.'' Before you could reply his mouth conected with yours, as you started to lower yourself down again Boba's hips moved up to join yours, pounding into your pussy. His own mouth now swallowing all the moans, keeping you quiet for his own enjoyment.

All you could hear was the pair of your heavy breathing, your muffled moans, and the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of you. It all echoing slightly around the empty room.

You were so glad he was kissing you otherwise the only noise in the room would've been your moans.

He was grinding off the throne right into you, starting to hit that perfect sweet spot. You could feel your pussy starting to tighten around him, the pool starting to fill, your body now on high alert ready to cover him. You wonder if he must have been able to tell since one of his hands left your hip and moved onto your clit, his thumb running up and down.

Boba pulls back a bit to say ''do you wanna cum ad'ika?'' his voice deep, breathy.

''P-please, so close si-sir'' you mumble against his mouth, you didn't even dare open your eyes to look at him. You were focusing too hard.

Well until he started slamming his cock deep into you again and his thumb rubbed faster, then a loud moan did fall out and you heard him grunt. He started kissing you again after he said ''just cum when you ready.''

So you allowed yourself to chase the high, letting all your moans and whimpers enter Boba's mouth, thinking of nothing but how close you are. About how you get to cover his cock once again in your cum, about how thankful you were to once again be getting fucked by him. Knowing this is real that you get to be fucked by the Boba Fett, in his throne room on the said throne.

With that you feel the pit drop, your legs tensing either side of his hips, your hands gripping harder into the beskar, all while your pussy clenched hard around his cock. 

Feeling his hand move from your clit as his lips left yours, placing his hand over your mouth to keep all your loud moans away, smelling a mix of your arousal and realise on his glove. ''Did you cum hard?'' he coos at you, slowly opening your eyes to see him smirking at you as you slightly nod. ''Good, want me to keep going?'' You nod again, your moans bouncing off his hand back into your mouth.

His hips had stopped for a little to allow you to come down from your high, however your pussy was still clenching around him. 

Once you had calmed he removed his hand from your mouth and onto the back of your neck, pushing you down onto his shoulder before he grinded his hips back into you. You started to whimper into his shoulder, using ruffled section on his neck from the flight suit to muffle yourself into as he held your head in place.

Boba started to push into your hips up again so you did the same as before and held his shoulders to help lift your body to meet with his rhythm, well somewhat anyway. Your eyes rolling back as he managed to go deep again, completely filling you until he pulls out a bit, and then repeating it all again. His thick length owning every inch of your pussy.

''Don't think I'm ever gonna get tired of this pussy'' he grunted into your hair as he slammed back into you making you moan into his suit.

Your eyes threatening to fill with tears, the pleasure being so good. ''Please'' you moan into him, you wanted nothing more then for him to keep fucking you, for him to keep using your pussy.

After weeks of imagining it in less then 24 hours you had been fucked by Boba twice, it still felt unreal but his grip on your body was very much real. Him grunting in your ear as you heard his armour shuffle along the throne with each trust, holding you against him as he just used your hole.

''Hm? Do you like that?'' he groans, ''want to know how much I plan to use your body? How I'm gonna destroy you for anyone else?'' His hand moved off your hip for a moment to kneed your ass cheek causing you to moan into his suit again, ''is that what you want princess?''

You nod into his neck before you reply, whimpering ''please Boba... use me however y-you want.''

Both of his hands returned to yours hips right before he pounded back into you, you carefully rose yourself up so you were back on top of his cock, using your knees on either side of him to rise yourself up before lowering yourself back down. You tightened your mouth to keep your moans hidden, heavy breathes coming out your nose.

''So good'' Boba praised as his gazed lowered to where you connected, watching his dick disappear into you and then some of it reappearing before going again. ''Not gonna last much longer, think you can cum one more time for me?'' his thumb returning to your clit. So you just nodded as you started to bounce on his cock again, trying so hard to not moan out.

Honestly it wouldn't haven taken you long anyway, the angle he was hitting here was beautiful, and the look on his face as he watched you made your pussy flutter.

Each pound was pulling you closer and closer, not even giving you a moment to consider how close you were already.

His thumb was moving in fast little circles as you bounced, his eyes then met yours again. He was almost blinded by lust, his features looked so dark but also somewhat caring. His eyebrows tight as he was holding his own orgasm off, waiting for you, waiting for your cum to cover his cock before he emptied inside of you.

The pit inside was filling, quickly too.

''You getting close, mesh'la?'' he grunted. All you could do was nod, it was right there, just a few more thrusts and you'll be there. ''Come on, cum for me, then you can get my cum.''

You rose up and as you dropped back down it burst, your head fell back as your eyes rolled back, unfortunately your mouth fell open and your moans escaped. Cumming harder around him as you felt his hand move from your clit to cover your mouth again as he kept thrusting into you.

Before you knew it you could hear his own quiet moans over your muffled ones, feeling him cum deep in you. His cock throbbing and twitching inside you, pushed up against your back walls, filling you up.

Slowly you opened your eyes to see his own were tight shut while he worked through his orgasm. His face scrunched up a bit as he worked through it, creases around his eyes, his mouth ever so slightly open, his jaw a bit tense. His hips had stopped rocking as he just held you on his dick, your pussy just fluttering around him, taking in his cum.

Then his eyes open and meet yours, they're a lot softer then they just were, as he lowers his hand from your mouth. ''You did so good for me'' he says before placing a kiss on your forehead. You just let out a shaky breath as you feel his cock soften under you. His hand from your hip moves down to help lift you up off his cock, placing you lower on his thighs, feeling his cum drip down onto the throne under you both.

''Sorry'' you giggle quietly while your cheeks heat up.

He holds your chin and tilts your head back up, smirking at you ''make as much of a mess on my throne as you want princess, I don't mind.'' Your face keeps burning up under his touch, maker this man will be the death of you.

You both just stare into each others eyes, a soft smile on your face as you admire him. He looked so beautiful, despite his age he didn't seem worn down after sex, and yet you imagine you looked a mess, sweating from the Palace heat. Maybe fucking in the day time on Tatooine wasn't a good idea.

But yet if he offered to again you wouldn't turn him down!

''Boss, Shand is waiting for you'' Drash's voice comes over the com. The moment you had had ended officially, you try to not let yourself feel down over it, sitting on his lap still, watching as he removed his hand off your waist to bring his wrist to his mouth.

Clearing his throat before he replies ''on my way.'' Placing his hand back on your bare thigh as his fingers stroked it, his cum now no longer dripping from you. ''So, what's your plan for the rest of the day?''

''D-don't you need to get to Fennec?'' You asked, you assumed he was going to kick you out the throne room and carry on his day, not 'chat' with you.

He just shrugged and replied ''we're only doing the rounds of Mos Espa, visiting the hospital to see how those injured are doing. She can wait a few more minutes, plus she did see you come in'' he smirked as he pulled himself closer to you.

''Oh, right.... I don't really know now, since you told me to take the rest of the day off. Honestly there isn't much to do in here'' you reply. ''To be fair I've been meaning to bring that up, in the nicest way this place isn't very... liveable.'' Boba pulled a confused face but also urged you to carry on. ''When I'm not working I don't have anything to do, there's nowhere to go. Most rooms seemed to be abandoned since Jabba died as Fortuna did nothing with this place, I was thinking that maybe some rooms could be transformed in to more useful rooms?''

Boba sits with your comment for a bit, his eyes no longer on you, lost in his own thoughts and focusing on it. You felt yourself relax a little knowing he was actually listening to you, taking you into consideration.

After a couple of minutes he replies ''with more people moving in here we do need more, as you said, 'liveable' circumstances. My only issue is I lived most my life on the Slave so I'm a man who is used to less space, using whatever area I could. But now I own Palace, I'm unsure what to suggest adding here. If you have any ideas I'd like to hear them.'' His gaze back on you now, you feel your body heat up, you didn't have any ideas currently, you were just spit balling.

''Yeah.... erm'' you mumble.

He chuckled as he replied ''I don't need any answers now. I can ask the Mods what they think too, get a few ideas swimming around as we have plenty of space for it all.'' You just nod as you softly smile at him. ''Anyway, I apologise but I do have a duty to do'' he adds.

''Yeah, sorry'' you giggle a little as you feel almost guilty, knowing Fennec has been waiting for him for longer then someone who was 'on his way'. You shuffle yourself off his body and stand at the end of the throne, you legs only a little shaky as you bent down to pick you underwear and pants up, but before you could Boba snatched your underwear.

You shot him a confused look and he said ''not these'' grabbing your wrist as he muttered ''I want you to feel my cum dripping down your legs all day, a constant reminder.''

Maker, after how he just fucked your pussy how was it getting turned on again already. You just nod as you pull your pants back up, kriff you thought this morning was bad with the rubbing with the underwear on, this was about to be ten times worse. The rough seam already rubbing along your sore and sensitive pussy. 

A quiet whimper left you, seeing Boba rise from the throne next to you, him holding your cheek as he said ''and don't you dare put a new pair back on when you get to your quarters.'' His face gone more serious, it sending shivers through your body as your pussy clenched, feeling some of his cum drip out again.

Sliding your shoes back on as you watched him put his helmet back on, going back to that beautiful mysterious man you first met. His visor meeting your eyes as you think about how you hope he one day fucks you with his whole armour, helmet included. 

''Behave while I'm gone'' he says before turning to climb down the platform ''and be nice to Djarin if you see him.'' Then with that he has left the throne room, you still on the platform.

You turn to look at the throne and blush at the sight of him cum on the seat. You quickly pick your feet up and rush out the room, deciding for now you'll head back to your quarters and watch a movie, that seemed like a normal thing to do on a day off after you fucked your boss, right?

As you leave the room you head towards the kitchen just to be curious and just as he suggested the new staff are working in there, cleaning last nights mess for you. A slight sigh of relief leaves you as you turn back away, this morning has had a very pleasant turn to it. 

****

The day moved slowly, the movie you threw on was okay, but you just found yourself bored easily. Your point to Boba standing to truth, there needs to be more to do in this place, but what exactly? What could there be to add?

A garden could be nice, but it's a fucking desert planet. Unless you built indoors?

Maybe some sort of gym? You imagine the Mods probably could use it since they were the only real security anymore, well there was still Krrsantan but he didn't really need to train. Fennec seemed the type too, maybe Boba as well.

Your mind flew around thinking of ideas, jotting anything down on your holo pad, keeping it together to tell Boba eventually.

After a while you decided to go and find out if they were back yet. It was like this morning all over again with each step you could feel your pussy ache, the lack of underwear sure was something. The dry cum was all you could feel on your thighs as you wandered the Palace.

Trying to ignore it you decided to head into the garage to get idea of if they were back. Yet you see the Mods bikes weren't there, meaning no they weren't back. You sighed and went to turn to leave before you heard ''Grogu, no. Put it down, Grogu.''

It sounded like the Mandalorian.

So you make your way further into the garage and see his shiny beskar hunched over in front of something. Suddenly the little green frog thing runs around him and towards you. You let out a nervous giggle as it hid behind your leg, holding some cog that was almost the same size as its head. Looking up to see the Mandalorian towering over you.

Right, this thing was his son- wait no he called it a foundling? Either way, it is in his care, you assume at least.

''Sorry about him'' he mumbles.

You smile and reply ''don't worry about it. He's quite cute.'' You look down at your legs to see his big black eyes looking up at you, smiling as he made some noise holding the cog to you. So you turn and crouch down next to him, ''what's your name?'' speaking softly to him.

''Gorgu'' Mando replies. You look up at him a little confused, ''he can't speak'' he then adds. Ah, that made more sense as to why he replied for him.

So you turn back to Grogu and say ''that's a wonderful name.'' He is still holding the cog but almost showing it off to you, ''do you not want to give that back to your dad?'' giggling as he made a raspberry with his tongue.

You heard the Mandalorian's heavy boots move around you and lean against a pillar, ''he's too stubborn, he only listens to two people and neither of them are me.'' He almost sounded defeated, he really was this things dad, regardless of what title he choice to give Grogu.

''Yeah but if you looked this cute you could get away with anything'' you smiled and stoked his head.

It was odd, the other day when you first met this man he seemed so standoffish, and yet since Fennec told you these two got reunited everything made more sense. You wonder where Grogu must have been for him to have changed without him, but a kid this age why was he separated from him? 

He was still holding the cog, just holding it and glaring at it. You wonder why he was holding it, like was it Mando's or did he just find it and him being a kid just decide he wanted it?

You just watched him, he was making quiet little cooing sounds to himself, moving it around in his hands. You just smiled as he did so, it warmed your heart seeing a kid just do a dumb kid thing, especially in this universe. Just being curious and playing with whatever he can find, minding his own business.

Mando moves around again, looking up to see him stand next to you. ''I'm not even sure where he found it, he just suddenly had it'' he said.

Giggling turning back to Grogu as you say ''it's what kids do, find something and their curiosity gets the best of them, especially if it's shiny.''

He doesn't say anything else, just crouching down next to you and reaching his hand out. Grogu just looks at him and coos, he sighs and reaches into his pocket, pulling out this small silver ball. Wait no, it looked like it was off something, it wasn't a toy.

It seems to peak his interest though as he instantly dropped the cog and rushed towards him, reaching for it. Mando passes him it, watching him grab it and sit on the floor with it.

''That's a guarantee to always work'' he mutters. You turn back to him to notice he was staring at you, well you think, again visors are hard to gage where the eyes are actually looking and this mans body language is hard to read. You just awkwardly smile at him as he stays still, kneeling next you you just looking in your direction, saying nothing. What was he looking at?

Just before he stands up though he says ''you might want to pull your collar up higher.''

Your face drops as your hand flies to your neck, shit the marks on your neck. Body heating up as you adjust your sweater, you almost forgot about Boba biting higher up on purpose. ''Thanks'' you whisper.

In the corner of your eye you see him offering his hand, you shyly reach for it and pull yourself up off the dusty garage. ''I would offer something to help them go down a bit, but I can guess Boba wouldn't exactly want that'' he replies, a slight smirk in his voice.

Was he and Fennec the only ones who had noticed what was going on between you two? Because you hoped so. You two had only just started whatever this is, last thing you needed was rumours, especially about you and your boss. Especially with some of your old co-workers now working here, that wouldn't be ideal.

You assume those two have only figured it out due to their skill set, they both would pick up on anything different, notice any small changes. Having a visor on your helmet probably helps you able to look at things others can't, you wonder how long ago Mando noticed the marks on your neck, he probably saw them as soon as you came in but due to being unable to see his eyeline you wouldn't have known.

''Yeah, he kind of did them higher so... you know'' you mumble, cheeks probably bright red- actually scratch that, your whole face bright red.

He just shrugged and reached down to pick Grogu up, ''as long as you're okay with it, it's no one else's business. I was only trying to help.'' Watching the child in his arms play with the ball between his small hands, in a world of his own.

You give him a soft smile and reply ''no, I apprentice it.''

The pair of you just stand there for a few minutes, listening to Grogu make happy little sounds to himself before the noise gets drowned out by the sound of the Mods speeders getting closer to the garage doors. Mando just nods at you before you turn and head over to where Drash had pulled up, watching the rest of the bikes slowly make their way in.

The pair of you smile at each other as she climbs off her bike and heads towards the doors into the Palace, you then turn back to see Boba and Fennec heading in. Forcing your cheeks down to stop smiling like an idiot at the sight of him, his helmet was under his arm as he was talking to Fennec, this soft expression on his face as he spoke.

Mando moves over to them, watching Boba's face light up more as he strokes Grogu's head. ''I see the face of a little man who's been stressing his father out'' Boba chuckles, the smile then forces itself onto your face as the thought of him just knowing Grogu had been messing around humoured you.

''Question is was it normal child activities or Jedi ones?'' Fennec chuckles. Jedi? You hadn't heard that term in a while, like obviously you knew parts of the Sith and Jedi, thought they were myths for years. The last you really knew was a Jedi was the one who took down the Empire, the saviour of the galaxy.

But what did any of that have to do with Grogu? He was just a little child?

''As your cleaner said, he's a kid and found something shiny'' Mando replied. Suddenly Boba and Fennec's eyes were both on you, you awkwardly smiled at them both and slowly got closer to where they all stood.

''Ah, so she has been behaving then'' Boba said as you got closer, your body freezing up as you heard Fennec scoff. Aware again of your lack of underwear as you could feel yourself start to get a little wet just from his tone, feeling it rub against your pants.

Standing there now awkwardly, hearing the last of the Mods leaving and it now just being you four, well five if you included Grogu. Fennec sighs as she adds ''I'm going to write down some rules for you Fett.'' All he does is chuckle, putting his attention back to Grogu. 

You don't say anything, waiting for one of them to change topic and get the attention off you. Maybe you should go? Go see if the new staff need a hand, get to know any of them instead of standing in this.... situation.

So you slowly turn to leave when Boba says your name so you stop, turning back to him. He gets closer to you as Fennec and Mando move away so it's just you two talking, you feel yourself getting anxious for some reason, like the tone in the air changed from teasing to serious. ''I know where Garsa is'' your body relaxes to some extent, your face changing to wait what he will carry on saying ''she was taken to the hospital on the edge of Mos Espa, I have organised a mod artist to help. Specifically the man who helped me save Shand a few years back.''

''When can I see her?'' You ask quickly, knowing now she is definitely okay and just wanting to see her.

''Fennec said she'll take you tomorrow when she's on her round.''

Your eyes start to prick with tears, your heart feeling like it was going to fall out your chest. You can't stop yourself before you rest your head against his cold beskar chest, ''thank you'' you whisper against him.

He strokes the top of your head as he replies ''ba'gedet'ye.''

[sidgeno-ficrecs]

the perfect occupation by @sevenfists

sidgeno (2019, explicit, 7.6k)

Geno kissed him at the party Sid held at his house after the season ended: one night to celebrate before they dove into the playoffs.

Without really meaning to, he started to take Geno seriously. The reasons why it was a bad idea were numerous and obvious. But after he processed all of that, he started thinking about the reasons why it might be a good idea. How much he trusted Geno. How soft-hearted Geno was, and loyal, and whip-smart. How he always listened to Sid when it mattered and not at all the rest of the time. How much they both wanted children, and maybe that was a ridiculous thing to consider when they hadn’t even kissed, but Sid had known the guy for more than a decade and only liked him more as time went on. Petulant, hot-headed, cagey, stubborn, and the bravest and brightest person Sid knew. The kind of person you made a life with and never let go.

i almost don't quite know where to start with this fic. it's under 10k, but it feels like we're reading years and years of backstory, a whole relationship between two people that's taking its next logical step, and we're privy to all of it, and yet it's all done with such gorgeous, economical language.

there's an aspect in fiction that i look for called 'heartkick', something that goes beyond neat turns of phrase or technical proficiency; it's a feeling, something in the fic that lodges itself in your chest as you read and sticks with you for long after. this fic sticks with you. this fic has heartkick.

seeing geno through sid's eyes, the love with which sid describes him and thinks about him, and them, and the future they have together...how can you not fall a little in love yourself? you get the feeling that this was such a long time coming for these two, and that sid's been doing his thinking and his considering and he's ready to put that away and begin their life.

there are so many lines in here that knocked me flat on my ass when i first read them, and continue to on each re-read—the one about doing relationship maintenance, each of them making choices to make the other happy; sid watching geno get ready for bed next to him, and all the comfort there; sid thinking about kids, already, even though they haven't even kissed. gorgeous, intimate little moments that illustrate the length of love and trust they have for each other, and how what's going on now is just an extension of all of that.

and the sex scene...well. sevenfists' sex scenes are always top-notch, but this one is woven in so deftly with the big feelings they're each having that there's almost more emotion to it than heat—and there's plenty of heat, both literal and figurative. they're both clearly so, so into each other, physically and emotionally, and the fondness and attraction and long-term love drip out of every word and description when they're together.

this is one of those fics that you read when you're looking to feel big emotions, but you want all of them to be positive. you'll ache as you read this, but none of it will be sad. it's an excellent story, the perfect length, the right amount of happiness without being saccharine, and if it isn't already one of your comfort-reads, it will be.

read it here on ao3!

[taeescript]

29 + 1 (Part Two)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (squint harder than before for taehyung x reader) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin; a dash of enemies to lovers au 

𝔴𝔠: 7.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: language; a plethora of drunk people, maybe a sext, and a ton of lying (possible implication of impending smut?!) 

𝔞/𝔫: this part came out longer than i thought it would be but *shrugs* feedback and thoughts always welcomed. enjoy (:  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: DailyHive is real; this is not associated with it 

part one || part three 

The bright pop music that is blaring from the speakers does little to slow your animated talking. Bodies are packed into the small local bar, and students on summer break fill booths and form a snake of impatient, drunk (and horny) people. A slow trickle of the brazen has started to fill the dance floor as the evening morphs into the night.

  You whip your hair into a ponytail and dab at the sweat that is beading your forehead. You definitely should have worn that sleeveless top rather than this thicker t-shirt dress.

  “So, is he like your sugar daddy or something?” Taehyung asks, “Also drink.”

  Friday nights were usually spent at home, snuggled under the blankets in your pjs binging another rewatch of Friends. After work today, you could no longer hold onto your secret and invited Taehyung out for drinks. His girlfriend, Fei, was supposed to join but had been held back for overtime.

  You tip the shot back with no chase.

  “You’re a monster,” he comments as he bites into his lemon piece.

  The two of you had made a bet at the beginning of the evening: you each chose a pop song and each time it played, the nominee had to take a shot. That was your fourth of the night, and to say there was a bit of a buzz is an understatement.

  “It’s all throat technique, Tae,” you say with a bit of a slur, “Hit the back and swallow. No innuendo intended. Also, why the hell haven’t you had any to drink?”

  “You picked ‘Peaches’ for fuck’s sake.”

  “I told you I don’t listen to pop music. It was the first one playing.”

  “And shouldn’t that have told you something? Justin Bieber of all people?”

  “Shut up. It’s your song.” You nod at the pink-faced barista for another round. She slaps your order in front of the two of you without so much a glance.

You don’t even know what song is playing, but you feel quite satisfied watching Taehyung make a face as he downs it in one go.

  He clears his throat after the liquor has burned its way down to his stomach. “Back to my question: is he your sugar daddy?”

  You bark out a laugh. Was he? Perhaps the fact that he paid for fancy meals at lunch? Those have been his one o’clock meetings for the past two months.

  “I don’t know. I’d rather he buy me a car or pay my rent if anything. A casual 1k a week wouldn’t be so bad either. We just sit in his office and eat in secret, Tae. He’s ‘training me in the art of culinary cuisine’. I think it’s just so I don’t embarrass him by stuffing a shrimp cocktail up my nose.”

  “You do know – ”

“Yes, I know. And I would never. It’s a metaphor. It’s just that the position ‘intern’ is quite loosely defined at DailyHive, don’t you think?”

  Taehyung rinses his mouth with water before speaking. “So let me get this right. Mr. Kim calls you into his office, says he’s going to take you as his guest to the biggest tech event of the year, treats you to lunches and doesn’t ask for anything in return? No secret midnight meetups or shady business deals…”

  You shake your head.

  “Damn,” Taehyung says, resting his arm on the bar table, “Forget sugar daddy. He’s just daddy.”

  Sticking your tongue out, you gag visibly at his comment. “Do not ever call him that again, Tae; ev-er.”

  He laughs and watches you pensively. After a moment’s thought, he says, “Nobody has ever called me Tae.”

  “What do they call you then?” you reply, wrinkling your brows together. A cute brunette across the room catches your eyes and for the briefest of seconds, you wonder what a one-night-stand would feel like.

  He shrugs. “Just Taehyung.”

  The brunette waves in your direction. You are about to return his wave when an equally cute brunette runs up to him. He promptly kisses her before swivelling her around to join his group of friends.

  “Sorry. Do you want me to stop? I just assumed since we were out of the office…”

Oh Fate, how cruel you are. Life of twenty cats and solidarity, here you come. Maybe dogs. You feel like you could be more of a dog person.

  “No,” he stops you, “You can call me Tae. Whatever you want.”

  You turn your attention back on the also cute brunette in front of you. In all honestly, despite his youthful god-like countenance, he looks slightly out of place at this college bar with you in his upstanding business attire and dorkishly adorable thick-framed glasses.

  “Sure. How about Tee-Tee? Or Hyungie? The TaeMan?” You wiggle your brows with the suggestion.

  “God help me.”

  The two of you clink your shot glasses together even though neither of your songs are being played.

  His Apple watch lights up to indicate an incoming message. He relays the text to you, “Fei’s done work. She’s on her way now.” You can’t help but notice a shift in his previously excited demeanor.

  You nudge him with your elbow. “Aren’t you excited? She’ll need a glass of wine or two to destress after work. I might be projecting onto you for this part, but you’re buzzed. So after we get her to unwind I’m sure the overwhelming power of pheromones will get you lucky tonight.” You wink at him to emphasize your point.  

“She’s not a big drinker. She’s probably just going to come and ask to leave in five minutes. Bars like this aren’t really her thing either,” he states. He then unbuckles his watch and tucks it away into the pocket of his pants. Undoing the cuffs of his shirt, he rolls up the sleeves and continues to regard you solemnly. “Okay, next round is one me. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to switch songs?”

  You notice how nice, long, and slender his fingers are. Plus the thing of girls liking when men have visible veins on their forearm? That had never really caught your attention until now.

  “She’s a bit of a bitch,” you say and immediately regret, “Shit, sorry. That just slipped out. Alcohol.”

  He offers you his water to drink.

  “I mean, she’s a little…uptight at times? But people can be completely different in and out of work. I can only imagine how stressful it is in her position. Working overtime until 9pm on a Saturday night seriously sucks,” you say to try and mend your wrongdoing.

  “Fei in the office is basically Fei at home,” he says softly, “It’s always work with her.”

  “We support career-driven women, yeah?” A smile is offered from you to him.

  He finally lets out a small one and nods. Out of the blue, he reaches over and covers your hand with his. Staring intently into your eyes, he says, “I know she makes you do her reports and occupies your time to do her coffee runs as well. You can say no to her. She may be my girlfriend, but you’re technically my intern, and I will stand on your side no matter what.”

  “Um, okay. Thanks, Tae,” you say. His sincerity has caught you off guard.

  At that moment, the sound of clicking heels pierce its way into your eardrums through the noise of the even busier bar. Taehyung quickly retracts his hand.

  Fei arrives, not a hair out of place in her tightly pulled bun. Her lips are painted a striking red against the paleness of her skin, and her manicured nails dig into the forearm of Taehyung when she reaches them. Even though she is wearing an otherwise drab office business suit, the curvature of her body draws quite a few glances from the younger men in the crowd.

  “It’s like a zoo here,” she sneers, turning away from a sacrificial lamb who had been bold enough step out of his circle of friends to greet her with a sleezy “hey”.

  “Hi, Fei. Busy night?” you greet her first.

  She gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Yes. I don’t know why you weren’t there. Isn’t it the intern’s job to complete reports?”

  Again, a loosely defined use of “intern” at DailyHive.

  You return her smile with a crisp one of your own.

  She turns away from you and regards Taehyung, who looks as if he had been the sacrificial lamb instead. “Teddybear, let’s go home. You know this type of place isn’t my vibe. I’m getting a headache already.”

  You raise an eyebrow at his pet name.

  He turns a little bit pinker, if that is possible under the current alcohol-induced glow of his cheeks, and says, “Um, sure. Y/N, are you going to be okay getting home?”

  Waving him off, you show him your phone. “30% left. I’ve got pepper spray in my bag and enough booze in me to not run from a fight. I’ll call an Uber home soon, don’t worry.”

  Fei has already begun to fight her way through the squirming, dancing bodies. Taehyung glances quickly at her and turns back to you once last time. “Text me that you’re home safe.”

  “Will do, boss,” you smile at him warmly.

  He lingers for just a moment more before running after his impatiently waiting girlfriend.

  You turn back to the bar and order another beer for yourself. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is perhaps the biggest perk of being single.

...

On the opposite side of town, sinking deeply into a soft lounge chair is Seokjin enjoying a rare evening out with his best friend. He has swapped his usual attire for a more relaxed fit of a white oversized crewneck and techwear bottoms. A heavy, exorbitant fur-lined long leather coat hangs on the coat rack beside the door to their private VVIP room. He swirls his glass of Chateau Lafite before sipping delicately.

  Outside, only a handful of patrons sit quietly engrossed in their own conversations. It is a relatively empty night at the high-end lounge. A lady sings sultrily on stage with the smooth background of a saxophone as accompaniment.

  Junho has poured himself another glass while he is talking to Seokjin. Seokjin had since slightly tuned out his friend’s rather elongated rendition of another celebrity sighting to occupy his mind with another individual.

  “Earth to Jin? When did you get so lightweight since I’ve been gone?” Junho waves a hand in front of Seokjin’s nose.

  Seokjin blinks to refocus.

  “The mansion I bought last year or the one I bought last month?” he reiterates. Sensing that Seokjin truly had no idea what the topic at hand had been, he tries again.

  “Where should I do my birthday party this year, man? I thought the mansion from last year since it’s closer to the city, but I feel like it’s been reused too many times. It’s not completely furnished yet, but the property I got last month is significantly bigger and I can probably host more people.”

  “The new place then,” Seokjin answers half-heartedly.

  Junho grumbles something intelligible.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” Junho sighs, “Tell me what’s new with you. How’s that little project of yours going? I still can’t believe you won’t let me know who you’re planning to take to the Gala.”

  Seokjin had refused to release even the slightest detail about you to Junho. Letting him know that Seokjin had agreed to one of his plans would be enough to inflate Junho’s ego for at least a little while.

  “It’s been going...”

  Junho waits for more of Seokjin’s answer, but his friend’s attention has been turned to a received text.

  10:17pm “Safe and sound, Teddy Bear.”

  10:17pm “Or should I say Taeddybear? 🥴”

10:18pm “That last beer done me rael godo.”

  10:18pm “Real good**”

  Seokjin raises a brow at the unknown number. He responds back.

  10:18pm “Who is this? I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

  Junho crosses his legs and sits back with a sigh. He presses the button to request for an attendant.

  10:19pm “You know who… Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for saying you’ve got my back. It’s definitely appreciated.”

  The response doesn’t do much except to further pique Seokjin’s curiosity.

  “Sorry,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “Rogue text I think.”

  Junho shrugs. “Is that right? Seems to have caught your attention.” There is now a manner of indifference to his voice.

  “It’s going well, by the way – answering your question. I mean, all things considered. It’s not like I have to teach her how not to stuff a cocktail shrimp up your nose.”

  His friend snorts. “I’d be concerned and against this person if it’s who you’re planning to bring.”

  Seokjin’s phone buzzes again.

  10:21pm “Pray for me when I wake up with the worst hangover of my life. I’m going to bed now.”

  A moment of silence.

  10:21pm “I hope I didn’t piss off Fei tonight for stealing you for the evening.”

  10:22pm “Okay I’ll shut up now. Please don’t tell me you’re reading this. You should be getting some 😼💦.”

  The emoji makes Seokjin choke, liquid sputtering from his lips.

  Junho cusses. He angrily dabs at the speckle of red wine that has landed on his pearly white top.

  10:23pm Download attached image. “Just in case, here’s a little something to get the night started 😉”

  “What the hell man?” Junho gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. Luckily, the previously called attendant had arrived in time to escort him.

Seokjin barely notices that he is alone in room as he taps the download button. It isn’t until he has returned home and is looking at the picture one last time before bed that he realizes who his mysterious texter is.

  The employee nametag clipped to the collar of your workday shirt hanging on the arm of a chair can only be found when zoomed in past your painted toes and naked feet.

... 

You cannot hide your nervousness when you arrive at your “lunch meeting” the following Monday morning. All weekend, you had cursed yourself for not better checking who the recipient of your texts were before pressing send. Never had you thought that in your drunken stupor you would mix up “The Devil” in your contact list with “Taehyung Kim.” Curse you and your lack of friends beginning with the letter “T”.

  You balk before, a hand poised in perfect position for a knock. Maybe he didn’t download it? And even if he did, it was just a troll feet pic. You had made sure that it was as pg-13 as possible before you had sent it.

  “Hi,” you greet sheepishly when he has given you the go to enter.

  In a smart plain blue button-up and round frames that are almost certainly for the aesthetics, the CEO of the company and your boss sizes you up and down.

  “I know we’ve gotten to know each other better these past few weeks. But you’d think it’s still common courtesy to at least make eye contact,” he says. You look at him wide eyed without a word.

  He rolls his eyes but does not gesture to your usual seat. In fact, you don’t spy a take-out container in sight. He instead stands up and picks up his phone, walking to the door. He notices you have yet to move.

  “Let’s get moving. You’ve only got a 45 minute lunch.”

  You scramble to match his speed and catch Taehyung’s eye as you grab your jacket at your desk. Taehyung’s gaze follows you as you hurry to leave in pursuit of Seokjin’s coattail.

... 

The restaurant is a popular vegan establishment with a plethora of greenery crawling up its high ceilings and a window-framed overview of the city’s skyline. Waiters and waitresses who may just as well be walking New York Fashion Week serve you brunch mimosas on a golden plate; they attentively wait to the side in case you ever run out of water.

  Common topics are rare between the two of you. Initially, you respectfully kept quiet and only answered questions when asked, but you have never been one for awkward silence. Yes, it’s awkward only if you make it awkward; there is just no denying the hanging suspense that curls your toes each time. Recently, you have started with simple inquiries regarding the company, who they might meet at the Gala and everyday mundane topics.

  “You’re probably wondering why we’re out of the office,” Seokjin says. He continues shortly after taking a bite of his meal and ignores the look of your surprise at his initiation of a conversation. “My office has been getting stuffy with the warmer weather so I thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. How’s the food?”

You nod, making small sounds of contentment as you chew on the Avocado Lime Tartare. Mmm… tart-y.

  He takes a deep breath in, stalling the incoming conversation. “It’s my friend’s birthday this next weekend.”

  “Oh,” you say, “Happy early birthday to him.”

  “He’s my best friend.”

  “Well… An extra happy early birthday to him.”

  A sigh. “Are you free next weekend?”

  Your chewing comes to a halt and you blink once at his question. Next weekend is the weekend before the Silver Gala. It is also the sole weekend before your birthday the following Friday after the Gala. You had hoped to spend it with Taehyung and maybe even Jimin who had promised to be in town on a long overdue vacation despite your chastising to visit your parents first.

  He senses your trepidation. Quickly, he explains himself, 

“He’s having a birthday party Saturday night. He has a place about an hour north of here. I can have somebody pick you up if that’s more convenient. I don’t have a birthday present for him and thought it’d be nice for you to meet him.”

  “You’re giving him me for a present?” you ask, incredulously.

  He bites his tongue. He never anticipated how awkward this conversation could go.

  “You’re going as my plus one. He really wants to meet you; in fact, he insisted that you be there. He’ll be at the gala too. I have something else planned for his birthday present,” he adds hastily, “Besides, you’re less than qualified as a present.”

  Musing silently to yourself, you wonder if in any situation should a human be qualified as a present. Despite that, you hate yourself as you agree on the spot.

  The rest of the lunch passes by quickly in dull silence. As Seokjin pays for the meal on the company card (and hands you the receipt for reimbursement), you note that there has been no comment made on any strange photos texted to him over the weekend.

  Perhaps being nonchalantly implied as a human birthday gift to a stranger is your karma for sending weird texts to your boss.

  Seokjin stays inside the car as he drops you off at the office after lunch, already preparing for his next business meeting. You nod your goodbye and step onto the pavement through the courteously held open door of the limousine.

“Y/N, try a soft pink. Fuchsia is not your colour,” he tells you as the door is closed.  

He then leaves you standing in front of the large office doors, staring at your chipped, week-old purple toenails.

... 

“I’m not exactly expecting a package in the mail or a dress laid out on the hotel bed – ”

“You guys are staying at a hotel?” Taehyung says over the phone.

  You are standing in your bedroom, an hour before when Seokjin is supposed to pick you up as an offering to his best friend. There are two dresses laid out on your Hello Kitty bed covers: a simple black dress you had worn once when you were a little bit more in shape and your prom dress.

  “No, I’m at home. But I mean, let me play into this movie metaphor.”

  “You suck at metaphors.”

  You have your phone propped up on some pillows so that you can see Taehyung as you debate your fashion decision. He is in a relaxed white tee, hair messily framing his face after a shower and a bowl of popcorn in his hands. You watch as a droplet of water runs down his face from his still-wet hair. He nonchalantly licks it off from the side of his mouth.

  “As I was saying, it wouldn’t hurt to get me something. He made it seem like it was a big deal. Like doesn’t the male lead usually surprise the female lead with a big bouquet of flowers and this over-the-top expensive dress which she wears and makes the male lead fall head over heels in love with her?”

  He chews silently on a kernel then probes, “You want Mr. Kim to fall in love with you?”

  “No,” you hastily correct, “It’s a metaphor. I think you’re the one who sucks at metaphors.”

  There is a beep on your phone to indicate you have another incoming call.

  “Tae, I’m going to have to call you back. My brother’s calling me,” you tell him. The black dress; your old prom dress is way too early 2000s. Black never hurts.

  “Okay. Have fun tonight. Pretend that it’s your birthday party. And then I’ll meet you for brunch tomorrow, my treat? You can tell me all about it,” he says. “Also the black. You look cute in that one.”

  “My party if I was 30, rich and successful. Oh wait, I’ll have one thing in common soon; that’s a start. Thanks though. I’ll call you tomorrow morning once I get up,” you say, then switch the call over to your brother. You had missed the flush of his cheeks as you busily swipe your phone.

Sticking the prom dress back into your closet, you rummage around the meager display of shoeboxes for a pair of high heels.

  “Hey, Jimin,” you greet over the phone.

  “Jesus, I do not need to be accosted by my half-naked sister,” he yells over the phone.

  You turn rapidly, seeing that you had accidentally continued a video call from when you had hung up on Taehyung. You throw a pillow over the camera in your haste to cover yourself up.

  “I was going to ask why you’re dressed like that but on second thought, I think I’ll leave your sexual exploits as your own secret.”

  Despite how disturbed you feel about this comment, his cheerful voice makes you smile.

  “So little sis, the weekend before the big three-oh!”

  “Please stop reminding me.”

  “Where do you want to meet tonight? I just got off the plane, but I can be ready to meet in about an hour. I booked a hotel close to the airport.”

  Shit. You forgot to tell Jimin. These heels will have to do.

  “Um… I, uh…”

  “What?”

  You clear your throat and begin to undress in front of the mirror. You have a sudden conscious thought that the dusty treadmill in your living room seems to be staring daggers at your back. 

  “I’ve got plans tonight.”

  “Plans? I wasn’t even aware you had friends here.”

  “Ouch, Jimin. But yes, I have friends. In fact, I am meeting a friend for brunch tomorrow if you want to join. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

  “He?” Jimin repeats, “Should I put on my big brother boxing gloves? Give him a good talking to in case he’s interested in my baby sister?” Pause. “Was that who you were calling before?”  

You bite your answer back, not feeling the need to go down that rabbit hole.

  “He’s just a friend; A co-worker really,” you say, “He’s also unavailable. And before you suggest anything, his goalkeeper is technically one of my bosses so I do not want to try and shoot past her thank you very much.”

  Jimin laughs. “I wasn’t going to suggest anything. Well if you’re busy tonight, tomorrow morning works for me. Give me a call. I’ll spend the night in watching some good ol’ Netflix and enjoy this vacation time.”

  “Sorry again,” you apologize.

  “Go out and have fun,” he says, “You deserve it.”

  The two of you finish off the call with the usual goodbyes. You have forty-five minutes to dress the part of a sparkly birthday surprise for the co-founder of the company you work for. Throwing on your favourite throwback music, you get to work.

  Once satisfied, you snap a picture and sending it to Taehyung making special care that you have picked the right individual this time.

... 

The mansion is bigger than you could have ever imagined, and the amount of people present are…

  “You’re telling me I can do whatever I want tonight,” you ask Seokjin in the car.

  There is no denying that Seokjin knows how to dress for an event. In a velvety black and white suit, contrasted by his blonde hair which he has elected to temporarily dye for the evening, he looks very much the posh CEO magazines brand him out to be. You are glad you elected for the simple black dress as standing beside this Renaissance statue in a floral pastel yellow dress would be like planting dandelions in Kanye’s sculpture garden (if he ever wanted one).

  “The majority of people won’t recognize you after tonight. They’ll also be too drunk to even register anything you tell them,” Seokjin says.

  He cannot believe that you chose a simple black dress. Did you really not own anything remotely feminine besides the most generic clubbing outfit? Even if you had wanted to make an appearance as a hooker, at least make it an expensive-looking one. Maybe he should have bought you that Versace dress he spotted in the window the other day. Instead…

  “Take this. Your earrings are too gaudy for this event.”

  You touch the sparkly black cats you have put into your ears. Their eyes are made of crystal, and you thought it looked quite fetching in the light. Opening up the box, you see a dainty elegant pair of teardrop earrings that may or may not be of real diamonds.

  “Only Junho will know who you really are and then you can enjoy the rest of your night. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being held here against your will.”

  Putting them on, you note that even this simple change in attire has elevated the entirety of your presence. You felt as luxurious as this gift.

  “Thanks, Seokjin,” you try the first name basis he had insisted upon for this evening, “Not going to lie, I had imagined that maybe you’d send me a dress in the mail or something, but this is still very nice.”

  He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Like in the movies? Please, I run a start-up company. I’m not a millionaire and I don’t think you would appreciate my handouts.”

  You don’t respond, making your second note of the night on the Prada label on the cuff of his suit. “To clarify, I don’t introduce myself as your plus-one tonight.”

  “No. I don’t want you associated with me,” he curtly states. He watches as your smirk twitches and he hits himself mentally in the head again. “It’s to protect you. There are bound to be tons of paparazzi tonight at a party as big as this. I don’t want you to find yourself in the tabloids tomorrow morning. Just be smart.”

  The car pulls to a stop after inching its way up to the front door. People mill about outside in extravagant brands, holding glasses of champagne. The man of the hour is somewhere inside the building, charming his way into new business deals as well as making new friends.

  “Stay close to me. You can leave after we meet Junho. It is his birthday after all,” Seokjin offers a hand as you step out of the car.

  You take it, looping yourself into him so that your hand rests on his forearm. You are only 13 days younger than Junho, and yet this striking contrast in lifestyle hits you like a landslide while the two of you walk up the stairs and into the mansion.

  Inside, it is dim with disco lights flashing to the beat of amped party music. Upon entrance, the two of you are offered glasses of liquor (you take a swirling iridescent drink) to which you are then ushered to where the birthday boy lounges.

  Junho has an even more youthful face than Seokjin does. Where Seokjin’s features exude class and charm, Junho appears mischievous and looks to have stepped out of every girl’s bad boy dream.

  You stop Seokjin with a tug and make him look at you. “Tell me: do I look like a passable birthday offering?”

  Seokjin rolls his eyes and pulls you along with him.

  “Jin!” Junho hollers loudly across the room when spotting his oldest friend. There is a doll-like female magnetized to his side. “This is Clara, my date for the evening.”

  Seokjin shakes her hand and greets them. The female cannot seem to pry her eyes away from this handsome new stranger. He introduces himself chivalrously to her as Junho sides up to you and grips your hands in his. His breath smells strongly of mixed drinks, and you know that in about fifteen minutes the entire night will be a blur for him.

  “You must be Y/N!” he says excitedly, “Jin didn’t tell me that you were coming! What a surprise!”

  “I am,” you greet back with a large smile. “Although I’m also surprised. Seokjin told me that you had insisted I came.”

  Seokjin grits his teeth, annoyed at Junho. Would he ever learn when to keep his big mouth closed?

Laughing loudly, Junho grabs two drinks just as a waiter passes by and hands them to you. “Insist might be a strong word,” he says, drilling another hole unknowingly, “I honestly thought I’d have to play part-time wingman tonight. But I’m glad he’s got someone by his side.” He jabs you a little too hard in the ribs. “Next week’s gala is going to be fun! Okay, now there’s only one rule tonight: there are no rules!”

  The four of you clink your glasses together, while you do your best to hide an embarrassed smile on behalf of the birthday boy.

  “You bet I’m going around as your trophy wife tonight,” you whisper in Seokjin’s ear when Junho looks away.

  He whirls around to look at you, the tip of both your noses impossibly close together. He can taste the acidity of the wine when you breath out with a wicked smile. He barely has time to stop you as you peel yourself away to mingle with the crowds.

  Seokjin is about to follow you but Junho pulls him away, flamboyantly introducing his handsome best friend to a group of international models. He turns on his brightest smile, but his heart thunders in his chest at you calling yourself his wife.

... 

You twirl around in your dress, nobody noticing the small splash of champagne on the front of it in the quickly changing lights.

  “He bought this for me last week. Says it reminds him of the first night we met. Our eyes met across the waters in Tuscany where he was on a business trip. I’ll let you on a little secret, but I was his mistress for a little while.”

  Seokjin cannot make out the words you are saying to a small but growing group of people around you. He stands across from Junho, but looks over the latter’s shoulders to watch as you do another spin.

  “A little while, Charlotte? Are you still his mistress?” an older lady with an exuberant amount of jewels hanging off her body whispers with a keen interest in your expertly spun story.

  Charlotte Dior Laurent, an identity you are pretty sure is an amalgamation of French brands from the top of your mind. You continue to personify this character however.

“Don’t worry. He’s left her since. I know I know, my friends all say the same. ‘He’s already been divorced three times. How can you be sure he won’t leave you?’”

  At this point, you are in way over your head at having told this story to at least two other groups and a multitude of other renditions to whomever you have met tonight. But there is something powerful about liquid courage as it courses through your body.

  The lady lays a hand on your arm. “I don’t want your heart to break. You are still young.”

  Looking up between the heads of your audience, you catch Seokjin’s eyes. They are fiery and it sends a strange sensation up your toes to your abdomen. You give a titillating wave at him in which he does not return.

“He says I’m special and different. How can you say no to that?” you exclaim with exasperation, fully committing to the poor damsel just oh-so in love.

  There is a look of genuine concern on the lady’s face at your statement.

  Before you can dig yourself a deeper hole, you place your empty glass on the table and excuse yourself. You do not know if it’s the drinking on a relatively empty stomach or if the room is really much warmer due to the multitude of bodies, but you head out to the balcony.

  On your way out, you notice that the clock reads twenty minutes past midnight. This gives you a shock at how fast time has passed. Perhaps you should go find Seokjin if you are to get a decent amount of sleep before meeting with Taehyung and Jimin tomorrow. Speaking of Taehyung…

  You pull out your phone and see that there are two unread messages. The first is from Jimin, confirming that he is indeed invited to brunch tomorrow morning. The second is a response from Taehyung.

  11:09pm “Wow. You have me a little lost for words. I had imagined you’d look nice in the dress but… You really are beautiful.”

  Smiling, you type in your response.

  12:21am “Thanks, Tae. You’re up late.” You take a picture of the earrings Seokjin had gifted you and attach it to the message. “What do you think of these?”

Barely have you returned your phone into your bag when it buzzes again. This time you receive an attached image. Taehyung seems to be sitting in front of a monitor, as his face glows with a blue light and contorted into a pensive furrow of his brows.

  12:21am “A little different from your usual style. Are they new? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”

  12:21am “Fei’s out with some friends tonight. She likes when I wait for her to come back before I sleep. To make sure she’s safe, I guess.”

  12:22am “Pooey. I should’ve brought you as my plus-one 😩. Also, Seokjin bought them for me for tonight. He says my other earrings are too gaudy.”

  12:24am “First name basis 🙃”

  12:25am “How is your night going? Having fun?”

  You are about give Taehyung a call for a detailed recounting of tonight’s escapades when someone speaks out from within the shadows.

  “A penny for your thoughts?” He walks into the moonlight. You flush, meeting the eyes of this particularly dashing gentleman, the phonecall immediately forgotten.

  Oh, Alcohol, you make even the smartest of people do dumb shit. And right now, your effects are even worse on this idiot.

  Your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch him puff out smoke from his cigar and offer it to you. He brushes up beside you, his fingers trailing up your hand which grips the balcony. You cannot seem to break away from his gaze.

  “Lung cancer has an increasing incidence rate particularly for females due to smoking. Are you sure you want to be condoning this type of behaviour?” Seokjin interjects himself between you and your Tuxedo Mask, pushing the outstretched cigar back towards its owner.

  There is a small stare down amongst the two men before the latter quietly exits the stage. Your eyes continue to linger on him even as he walks towards another female alone in the night enjoying the outdoor breeze.

  “You’ve just ruined by chance. I could have seduced then blackmailed him with the story of his illegitimate child to play Black Widow,” you whine.

  Seokjin takes the glass that had somehow magically appeared in your hand during the short walk from inside to outside on the balcony.

  “How many have you had since we came?” he asks.

  You sigh wistfully, still in your dangerous daydream. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.” You turn your attention back to him eventually. “What are you doing here? Did you see me with him and get all jealous, hubby?” you tease.

  He scoffs, drinking from your glass and pulling a face. Once again, there is that twist and jump within his chest, but he attributes it to whatever nasty concoction he had just ingested. He pours its contents over the railing and into whatever shrubbery lies below. “You seriously went with being my trophy wife?”

  You shrug. “Of sorts. You’d better be right about people being too drunk slash not caring about me enough after tonight to remember the things I’ve said. ‘Cuz you’ve been divorced three times, had me along with another as your mistress, I think you’ve sired a few illegitimate children and all in all, a Games of Throne life. Damn, maybe I made you a little too badass.”

  “You’re having water for the rest of the night,” he says.

  You glare at him, contemplating on making a remark about his equally flushed face but decide against it. Instead, you lean onto the balcony and give a cat stretch. A large sigh escapes from you.

  Wordlessly, he shakes off his jacket and places it around your shoulder all the while averting his gaze on the unblemished skin of your upper thighs that had been exposed from your previous movement.

  Your blood feels like liquid fire coursing through your veins. Feeling overheated even in the evening breeze, you give him back his jacket. You note his reluctance to meet you even as you throw what could be a thousand dollar jacket in the air to him. “So what’s it like to live like this every day?” you say in wonder. You feel said breeze return and lean over the balcony to catch its chill.

  “Like what?” he asks. The warm summer night’s breeze blows through, settling his hair in a childish tousle.

  “Like rich,” you say. You sigh again. “Believe it or not, I’m the same age as your birthday boy best friend.

  And everything feels absolutely unreal right now. If I hadn’t agreed to come here tonight with you, I’d probably be at another dingy bar knocking back shots with my brother and friend.”

  “Are you a secret alcoholic?”

  You glare at him. “No,” you state matter-of-factly. “As I was trying to share, this type of lifestyle is something I could ever only imagine. I’m not ungrateful about spending time with them, but at the end of the night I’d go home, sweaty, drunk and gross, and then simply pass out. My bank account might be a couple hundred bucks lighter. Come Monday I’ll be working my ass off just to earn back what I had spent. Then cue the repeating cycle.”

  Resting your chin on your palm, your other hand sweeps your hair back behind your ear.

  “It’s amazing the difference a few life choices can have.”

  Seokjin remains silent beside you. Truthfully, he is at a loss of words. The moonlight plays across your face and caresses your nose down to your lips. You are arching your back once again to pull away the soreness that comes with wearing high heel the entire night. It is just a simple black dress but on you it made you look –

  “Well, you’re Mrs. Kim tonight,” he starts.

  “Charlotte Dior Laurent,” you correct him.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Okay… Ms. Charlotte Dior Laurent. Tonight you get to live like the rich, as you’ve put it. As a rich person, what would you like to do?”

  You ponder his question a few moments for the answer. “Hmm…I think I’d like to play golf. It’s a rich person’s sport. I want to play it on a private golf course, wearing cute golfing outfits and talk about million-dollar deals with a client without a care in the world. I want to order sangria by the gallon.”

  He laughs out loud. It takes a while for him to be able to speak again, but when he does you feel as if the night has been illuminated a few degrees brighter. “I personally don’t have a private golf course, but Junho does here in his backyard if you’re up for it. I can’t promise cute golfing outfits so you’ll have to do with your wine stained dress. And if you’re really up for it I can pretend to make business deals with you, that’s my job anyways.”

  You grin, taking the hand he has offered you. “Call.” The two of you shake upon his suggestion.

As he is leads you by the hand towards the dim gates of said golf course, you tug at him gently. “There’s something missing…” you say.

  He shakes his head and pulls you back in towards the party room. 

“I’ll see what they have at the bar.”

... 

As the hands of the clock continue to spin past another hour, the summer night takes a chilly turn. Seokjin has lent you his jacket but even that cannot stop your fingers from becoming numb. Your hands shake even as they tightly hold the golf club. Seokjin watches you in silence as you prepare to hit the golf ball, a beer in one hand and a few opened bottles littered on the grass beside him. The club hits the ball with a resounding “cling” but does little in propelling it a few centimeters.

  “This one doesn’t count,” you announce, “It’s too dark to see anything here.”

  Seokjin takes a swig as you readjust your position. You sway in the wind and the last tendrils of your hair come undone in its half up half down hairdo. Your hair now whips wildly around your face when another gust blows through.

  “Shit!” you exclaim, missing the ball again. “Why is golfing so hard?!”

  You throw your club down and trudge to Seokjin. The six pack the two of you had been sharing has officially been depleted. Seokjin offers you his half empty bottle. This time, you are the one watching as he goes to your spot and effortlessly swings his target into the darkness.

  He smirks from the spot.

  You grumble. “You’ve had years of practice. Not fair.”

  “You’ve got to do better than that, Mrs. Johnson,” he says, teasing you.

  Your grumble becomes more audible. You place the now empty bottle on the ground and cross your arms against your chest. Since telling him of your other American alias from tonight, he has not ceased to remind you of your strange choice of name.

  “Just so you know, Mrs. Johnson can afford both an affair and the consequential prenup,” you huff.

  “It’s still a stupid last name.”

  “It’s an American multinational corporation with an income in the billions, okay?”

  “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. Now come on, I’ve got one last ball. Take a swing.”

  Groaning, you shuffle over. You wish you had not suggested golf. You had never been good at sports anyways – bad hand-eye coordination.

  He stands beside you this time, scrutinizing your every movement with hawk-like eyes. “No, not like that,” he says, “Have a wider stance and bend your knees. Better centre of gravity gives you a better swing. Also hold it with a neutral grip.”

  You readjust your positioning following his instructions.

  “Index finger down the center. Good. And three knuckles on each hand. No, that’s two. Okay your hands are just weird now. Three. I said three.”

  “Stop standing there and show me then, Mr. Know-It-All,” you say, your patience in this makeshift lesson also coming to an end.

  He walks closer to you, reaching out for the golf club. He retracts his hands in seeing that you have yet to let go. “You got to – ”

“You can touch me. I did tell you that Mrs. Johnson can afford an affair and prenup. Besides, I’m not going to be able to learn anything if I can’t even see you in this dark.”

  He comes behind you and puts a foot between yours to guide your stance. Wrapping his arms around you, he fixes the placement of your hands to grip the shaft of the club in the way he had previously instructed.

  Perhaps it is the mixture of wine, champagne and beer offered tonight, but being enveloped in the warmth of this embrace intoxicates you. The tingles that are sent down from his soft breathing on the base of your neck, make you shake like a leaf in the wind.

He inhales the sweet undertones of your perfume. The tendrils of your hair brush against his collarbone, sending a sensual kiss onto his skin. Unconsciously, he draws you closer to him, shielding you from another gust.

“Now you just want to swing,” he says, the words a mixture of a whisper and guttural grunt. His chest rumbles with it, passing the vibration through to your back.

  You remain as still as a statue and lean ever so slightly back into him until your entire backside is pressed upon him.

  You can’t stop yourself as you ask him, “Do you want to have sex with me?”

...

[kimnjss]

capital h | pjm + jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader x jimin ⇢ genre: smut. ⇢ word count: 7.6K ⇢ theme: established relationship | threesome.  ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, slight nipple play, oral (f/m receiving), threesome, semi-public fingering, humiliation kink(?), slight dom!jimin, slight switch!jungkook, slight sub!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, unsafe sex (wrap it up, loves!). a hint of jikook at the end. ⇢ summary: after learning of the activities your boyfriend and his best friend use to partake in, you can’t help but what to be apart of them. everyone always says, two is better than one, right? ⇢ A/N: this has been in my drafts for about three months, lmao. finally, i finished it and posted it! im lowkey excited because this was a lot of fun to write, and i’ve never written anything like it so! alright, yeah... let me know what you think x.

Your damp locks laid sprawled against your boyfriend's muscular thigh. Warm fingers twisting the wet curls between his fingers. Movements slowed due to the toe-curling, orgasm-inducing, mind-blowing tub sex you just shared. The last thing you had wanted was to get out and brave the cold air, but laying here, wrapped in his sheet with nothing underneath, you didn't want to be anywhere else.

 Being in Jimin's arms was a rare occurrence these days, moments like this becoming cherished treasures that you looked forward to. Excitement was the easy way to describe how you felt when he and his six best friends were pulling up in front of your house, inviting you to spend their day off with them.

 Of course, it was all Jimin's doing, you wouldn't have met any of those guys if it wasn't for your chance meeting with the handsome dancer. They liked you enough, though. Each showed you that they accept your relationship in their own way.

 Seokjin, the oldest, had become something of a big brother to you; oftentimes taking your side on the rare occasion that you and Jimin argued. Never failed to give you insightful advice after the fact. Yoongi didn't really pay you any mind, but he thought you were cute and often times found himself cooing at you. You were closest to Hobi and Joon, becoming fast friends due to your like personalities and sense of humor. They thought you were hilarious, Jimin didn't see it.

 As for the two youngest... despite you dating his best friend, Taehyung didn't really show much interest in you, neither did Jungkook. Yet, Taehyung did put in the effort to make conversation and make you feel included, unlike the youngest male. You had been convinced that he didn't like you, until a few weeks ago when his blatant staring began.

 He'd be quick to look away whenever he knew he was caught, but he wasn't that sneaky. You never missed the cocky grin he'd try to hide or the knowing look he'd shoot in Taehyung's direction. There was definitely something up and it definitely involved you.

 “What do you think of Jungkook?” The question was falling from your lips and you had your never-ending thoughts and overthinking to blame. 

 Jimin let out a snort of a laugh. “Jungkook? My best friend, and teammate? The guy that's been like a brother to me for the past 7 years? I guess he's alright,” Sarcasm dripped from his words and you rolled your eyes, lifting your head from his lap.

 Your hand met his shoulder, gently pushing him back against the headboard. “I'm being serious. What do you think?”

 “So am I. He's like a brother to me, why?” He found this sudden interest in the maknae odd...? Especially for you. It was obvious that the two of you didn't really socialize, so why were you asking about him all of a sudden? “What do you think of him?” Jimin prompted when your answer didn't come fast enough.

 Taking a moment, you debated whether or not you should even bring this up. As he said, Jungkook was like a brother to him... what if calling out his weird behavior ended up rubbing Jimin in the wrong way and now you were without a boyfriend.

 Jimin wasn't the type for dramatics, though. Everything was comfortable with him, not many things reaching his 'serious business' radar, so this should be fine, right? Right. “He's fine...” You buffered, teeth chewing at your lower lip.

 Jimin pinned you with an expectant look, hated whenever you, or anyone, beat around the bush when there was obviously something on their mind. Taking this, you urged yourself to go on. “...I've just noticed like lately he's been... checking me out?” Mentally, you flinched, hoping the news wouldn't upset your boyfriend.

 His chest rumbled as he barked out a laugh, head cocked back as the sweet sounds left his plump lips. Pillow soft punches met his stomach as you tried to get him to focus. “I'm being serious, Jimin! He's always staring at me with that stupid face,”

 You imitated Jungkook's seemingly signature facial expression, eyebrows raised and tongue pushed into the inside of your cheek, eyes tracing over your boyfriend's body hungrily like Jungkook had done to you many times before. Another laugh left his lips at the sight of your face and you were scoffing, pushing him back again.

 “I don't know why this is funny to you. I just told you one of your friends has been mentally undressing me, you should be livid!” You were quick to silence the insecure thoughts that his lack of reaction had floating around your mind.

 It was no secret that Jimin was a jealous guy. What's his, is his... you were his! He should be enraged that some guy was looking at you like a piece of meat, he was the only one that was supposed to look at you like that. So why was he laughing?

 Seeing that you were obviously upset, Jimin was reaching for your arms, uncrossing them from your bare chest. His hands held loosely on your wrist as he pulled you toward him, landing a soft kiss to your lips. “I think it's funny because it's not a big deal. Me and Jungkook are boys, he's not gonna try anything with you.” He assured you, another kiss landing on your lips.

 “Okay, but, I heard him and Taehyung talking and-” You weren't even able to finish your sentence because he was sitting up, squinted eyes finding yours. “Taehyung was talking about you?”

 Oh, now he wanted to be jealous? Scoffing, you pushed him back against the headboard. “Yes.” You couldn't help the roll of your eyes. “I was trying to tell you. Not only is Jungkook always checking me out, but I heard them talking about you and us... and something about an H?”

 Jimin's expression softened, eyebrows relaxing as his cheeks tinted a few shades light of red. “Oh.” Crooked teeth worried his lower lip as he reached a hand up to push his hair back on his forehead.

 “Oh? What does H stand for, Jimin?” Obviously, he knew exactly what they were talking about and it was making him... blush? “It's nothing.” He answered a bit too quickly. “It's something.” Your words chased his, a slight bite in your tone.

 His eyes widened. “What are you gonna get mad if I don't tell you?” Laughter laced his words, but it wasn't the 'Ha-ha so funny' type of laugh, it was a type of nervous laugh he let out when he felt like he dug himself in a hole.

 You were nodding your head simply, shoving the blanket from your waist. “Yup!” Hopping from the bed, you began searching the room for the jeans you had ditched the second you were entering his bedroom. Jimin was sitting up quickly, voice stopping your movements just as you got your jeans over your thighs. “Alright, alright! I'll tell you. Come sit back down,”

 A triumphant smirk spread across your lips, as you crossed the room back to his bed. You sunk back down onto the comfortable mattress, crossing your legs underneath your bum as you awaited his explanation.

 “First of all, this was before I met you so you can't hold this against me,” He prepped and you nodded your head, gesturing with your hand for him to go on. “A while ago... with my exes, or just like girls that hung around us... Jungkook and I would, you know...”

 You had pretty a good idea what he was alluding to, but you weren't the type to graciously take a hint. “No, I don't know... you would, what?” He was rolling his eyes at the smirk on your lips, hands pushing his hair back out of habit.

 “Share them, our girlfriends, the groupies... It was fun, you know? Capitol H doesn't stand for anything, it's literally what our bodies do,” He let out a short laugh and you picture the way an H looked. “...So I'd be the middle part?” You clarified, your words making Jimin's eyes snap up to you.

 “Who said...” His words trailed off, brows furrowing as he visibly went through the thoughts bubbling in his mind. You didn't blame him. Despite the occasional interesting position or location, you liked to keep it pretty vanilla.

 Well aware that Jimin was more experienced than you, you didn't want to disappoint. You always thought vanilla didn't technically mean boring... at least it didn't to you. But after hearing that he use to partake in regular threesomes you couldn't help but wonder what else the other girls he's been with let him do.

 Just the pure fact that you were considering this, putting yourself in the situation was enough to baffle your boyfriend, confuse him enough to convince him that you were just fucking with him. A laugh slipped past his lips as he shook his head. “Come on, Yn. You wouldn't be into that.”

 “How do you even know?”

 “Well, because I know you. It was a long time ago, Yn. They were just talking shit, you don't have to-” Annoyed, you were cutting him off.

 “I might want to. I could be into it, you don't know. Jungkook is cute and...”

 His face was twisting, and you were afraid you had said the wrong thing. Sure of it when the words left his lips. “Are you saying you want to fuck, Jungkook?” Thankfully, he didn't exactly look angry... just a little bit put off?

 A hand reached out for his, easily lacing your fingers together. “Listen, I know I'm not that... adventurous, when it comes to sex... but if it's something that you enjoyed doing or if you just want to, I'm just saying... I wouldn't be against it.” Your thumb soothes over the back of his hand and enjoys the smile that pushes onto his lips.

 His eyes soften again, staring up at you lovingly. The confusion of whether or not you had just admitted you were into his bandmate gone and forgotten. “I promise, I like the sex we have just fine, don't worry.” He was leaning forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull your body into his.

 Four days passed since your conversation with Jimin. More and more time was spent around their dorm, soaking up as much time with him as you could before he was jetting off to his next schedule. Being around him all day, though, meant that you were around his friends all day too.

 It wasn't a big deal, these guys were cool. At least, most of them were. In the past days, Jungkook had become bold, to say the least. Not looking away when he's caught staring, instead of waiting for you to be the one to break. On top of that, it was like the kid never knew when to shut up, always coming up with a snarky comment or undermining you but at the same time calling you 'Noona' with that boyish grin of his.

 Jimin no doubt told him all about the talk that you two had if those boys were sharing girls... there was no way they weren't sharing secrets. You don't know what you knowing about their sexcapades did for him, but it clearly had gone to his head. It'd be best to just ignore him, you decided. No matter how undeniably attractive he was, there was nothing there for you. You didn't want him. Didn't need him, no matter the dampness that ensued whenever he smirked. And of course, you didn't ever notice the size of the bulge that constantly pushed against his pants. Was that boy always hard, or something!?

 Like right now, just walking across the lawn in search of the ball he had been playing with, but right there fighting against his swim trunks... a huge boner! You cursed the moment Jin suggested a pool party would be a fun way to spend the afternoon.

 It had sounded fun at the moment. Yoongi said he was going to barbecue and you were even more convinced when your boyfriend was making his way down the stairs shirtless in his swim shorts. The sexy one-word tattoo on full display, ripples of his abs seemed to glisten, the single trail of hair below his belly button disappearing underneath his waistband.

 Yeah, you'd definitely enjoy this afternoon. So sure of it, until you were catching sight of the man that followed him down the stairs. Jungkook, of course, who else could irk you just with their presence?

 A lot taller and more muscular than your lean boyfriend, black shorts hanging loosely on his hips, giving you a perfect view of the well-worked on V-line that acted a huge fucking arrow to his dick. Gentle lips found the top of your head, a strong arm wrapping around your waist. “You look pretty,” Jimin mumbled into your ear, and you grinned, leaning into his chest.

 Jimin was always very vocal when it came to the things that he liked to see. You showing some skin? Definitely at the top of his list. Took that into account when you picked out your swimsuit for this gathering; a red triangle string bikini, lacy black flowers decorating your breasts, and hips.

 It was obvious that Jimin thought you looked good, could tell with the lingering glances in your direction as you laid on your back trying to soak up some sun. What you didn't account for was the slight chance that his friends might think the same. And by friends, you meant Jungkook, of course.

 Poor kid couldn't take his eyes off of you, not even for a second. Which explains his constant need to get out of the pool and retrieve the ball that he kept failing to catch. The situation almost funny, if the sexy flex in his arms as he pulled his body out of the water didn't always catch your attention. If your eyes weren't automatically trailing over every ridge and bump of his muscles.

 He'd smirk when catching you, toss his long wet hair before slipping back into the water. Wouldn't even wait to see the annoyed roll of your eyes, not as it mattered – he had already caught you staring, more than once. Acting as if he didn't affect you was a waste. And to make matters worse, Jimin was always right there observing each and every one of your interactions with the kid, face giving nothing away.

 Not angry, or annoyed. Just watching, as if he was curious to see what you'd do. How you'd react. As if he had put this whole entire thing in motion earlier and was observing the aftermath. 

 By the time Yoongi was announcing dinner, your body was buzzing with annoyance. Or was it desire? Either way, you were about two seconds from ripping your hair at the roots. Jimin sat beside you, the first time he was within arms reach the entire evening. He grinned, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you close engulfing you with his sweet scent. 

 Stupidly, you found yourself relaxing in his arms. Head falling on his shoulder while a hand lifted to press against his stomach. He was warm but still a little wet from the pool. You felt the movement of his head but didn't bother with lifting your head to see who he was speaking too. Stupid, because seconds later the spot next to you was being taken up.

 Guess who.

 Of course, Jeon Jungkook was slipping into the space beside you, a cocky grin playing on his most likely soft lips. His eyes flickered over to Jimin's before he was dropping his focus back onto you.

 “We've got burgers and hot dogs, and Jin is coming out with the chicken,” Yoongi called out, stepping toward the table with a tray of meat in hand. The second the food was in reach, the boys were hurrying to load their plates.

 Like the ever so dotting boyfriend, Jimin loaded up your plate as he did his. Comfortable conversation surrounded the table, voices overlapping and thick strings of laughter falling from their lips. You weighed in where you could, beaming when you were able to make a few of them laugh along with you.

 It was fun. Talking to them, getting along. Despite the fact you had been dating Jimin for a while, conversations with most of his friends were surface level at most. It didn't really bother you, but it was a good feeling knowing that if needed, you could get along with these guys.

 “No, yeah... if you're into old-time movies, you should definitely check out...” Taehyung's words were fading into the background, your attention slipping from what he was saying and to the warm hand on your thigh. Jimin's. An unsuspecting smile on his lips when you looked up to catch his gaze. 

 Just barely catching the title of the movie Taehyung was referring to, you turned your attention back to him. “It's good? I should check it out.” He nodded, all at once losing interest in the conversation, Jin's story catching his ear.

 There was a mischievous glint in Jimin's eye as he spread your legs apart, tips of his fingers trailing up your bare thigh. His head tilting until his lips were able to reach the skin of your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses down the length.

 You felt your body melting into him. Ready to succumb to whatever he had in store for you, the tingle of anticipation rushing through your veins. A familiar heat spreading throughout your body, lips curling into your mouth as you waited. The press against your left side had your eyes snapping open, darting to the cool tattooed hand making it's way up to your thigh. Jungkook.

 His fingers inching up your thigh, closer and closer to your core while Jimin held your legs apart, fingers tight against your flesh. “If you don't like it, tell him to stop.” His words are hushed against your ear, and you're nodding quickly, hearing the sincerity in his voice. 

 Jungkook wastes no time, callused fingers finding your clit through the fabric of your bikini bottoms. He presses down, fingers moving in circles as your body jolts at the sudden friction. “She's sensitive,” He speaks as if he's taking notes rather than trying to hold a conversation. You hold your breath, legs spreading slightly. Jimin's lips fall from your skin, cheek resting against your shoulder so he can see.

 Never did you think you'd be the one to have such a penchant for something as risky as public foreplay, but here you were growing wetter by the second, the thought that either one of his friends could catch you with a simple turn of their heads. It had you unbelievably turned on, mixed with the fact that your boyfriend was watching you rather than doing it definitely added to it.

 Jungkook laughs beside you, but not at you. Delved in a conversation with Namjoon across the table as if his fingers weren't pushing your bottoms out of the way underneath the table. A long finger lazily traces over your wet folds. Jimin's chuckle covers the gasp that leaves your lips when Jungkook's fingers graze over your bare clit.

 Jin is smiling appreciatively in his direction at the support of his joke. You were going to get caught. The thought and the consequences weighing heavily on your mind, causing you to shift attempting to close your legs. “It's fine,” Jimin assures you with a whisper, strong hand holding your leg in place.

 The moment you're relaxing, Jungkook's hand is reaching down to grasp your other thigh. Easily lifting it to hook over his own, giving him total access to your throbbing pussy. It's not lost on you how hot it feels to be exposed like this, but you're not given any time to analyze what it means as soon as Jungkook traces his fingers over your entrance.

 The tips of his fingers take their time with gathering the wet arousal that had accumulated between your legs before they're moving back up to tease your tight hole. Teeth digging into your plump lip as the tips of his fingers slowly begin slipping into your core.

 Trying your damnedest to keep your face from giving away what was going on underneath the table. You force yourself to concentrate on the words coming from Namjoon's mind, although they're just words... not coherent enough to follow the actual story.

 Slowly, Jimin is reaching his thick fingers down between your legs, using his middle and index fingers to spread your lips further apart, giving him a better view. You gasp, Jungkook's fingers pumping shallowly in and out of you. 

 For a moment, your body stills, afraid you had been too loud just then. Calming when you realize none of them were looking in your direction, not even Jungkook who was the cause of all of this. No, he was seemingly wrapped in conversation with Taehyung, a teasing smirk on his lips that you guessed was meant for you.

 Jimin was the only one look at you, watching Jungkook's long fingers bury themselves deep inside of you. He's flexing them, curling and uncurling as the pad of his thumb fingers your needy clit. He's basically drooling at the sight, wet lazy kisses landing on your shoulder. His hand resting over his covered crotch, palming himself through the fabric. 

 A louder, desperate whimper is falling from your lips. This time catching the attention of Taehyung. Words coming to a halt as his eyes dart between the three of you, a wide smirk slipping onto his features. “Are you alright, Yn?” There's a teasing glint in his eye, letting you know he's not at all asking if you're alright. No, he knew exactly what was happening underneath the table and he was making it all of his business to tease you about it.

 Plastering a tight-lipped smile onto your lips, you muster all the strength you can to nod your head. “I'm fine,” There's a strain in your voice, giving him enough reason to pull a look of concern, his head tilting to the side.

 “Are you sure? You look a little flushed,” His brows furrow, topping off his fake worry and you're suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. The encounter is catching Namjoon's attention beside him, his gaze lifting to study your face. “Oh, yeah. You don't look so good.” He weighs in, actually looking worried about you.

 Jungkook takes this growing attention as an invitation to speed up the movement of his fingers. Hand tightening on your thigh, keeping you from snapping your legs shut. Two fingers plunging deep inside of you, tips brushing against the spongy spot inside of you. Jimin's domineering gaze watches your face, waiting for your response.

 However, it doesn't come. The thrusts of Jungkook's fingers, mixed with the relentless strokes of his thumb on your clit has a moan falling from your lips. It's loud and breathy, and definitely recognizable even if all attention wasn't on you. You see Jungkook's eyes widen from the corner of your eye, but he's being really careful about not looking directly at you.

 You do, actually, see him steal a glance in Jimin's direction... almost as if he's asking for guidance, but he's being ignored, Jimin's lust-filled eyes never leaving your face. “Take that kinky shit upstairs,” Yoongi speaks flatly, bored expression on his face as he stares at you.

 Jimin's hand is quick to reach between your legs, adjusting your bottoms as Jungkook withdraws his fingers from inside of you, pushing your thigh from his. You ignore the way your walls flutter at the sudden emptiness, snapping your legs shut as embarrassment reddens your cheeks and dampens your pussy.

 “Let's go.” There's no room for protest with the way he speaks, excusing himself from the table as he looks expectantly between you and Jungkook. The younger male is quick to stand, watching you as he pushes his glistening fingers into his mouth. Your heart pounds as he slowly sucks your juices from the digits.

 The other boys have turned their attention from you three, still, your body felt hot. Cheeks flushed and pussy pulsing with want. Need. You needed them, both of them. Need to have both of them on you, around you, inside you. With a breath, you're standing, following them into the house and up into Jimin's room.

 Jungkook shuts the bedroom door, flicking the lock as Jimin turns to look down at you. “You still not against this?” Eyes much softer now, gentle hands finding your hips in order to pull your body toward his. You're nodding without a second thought, want buzzing in your veins. No way were you backing out now.

 Despite the grin rapidly growing on his plush lips, Jimin was still asking: “Are you sure?” Your words chased his, hands reaching up to land on his jawline. “I'm sure,” Your lips found him, instantly being parted by their thickness. His tongue twists and tangles with yours, a single hand reaching to grasp your jaw, holding your head in place as he licks into your mouth.

 Suddenly, he's pulling back, soft eyes tinted with a dark desire. He's turning your head with the grip of his strong hand, your eyes finding Jungkook who had moved to stand directly behind you.

 Jungkook is quick to capture your lips with his. Soft lips tasting heavily of cherry, you kiss him back, body turning, melting into his as the erection between his legs brushes against your lower belly. He bites into your lower lip, tugging it slightly and pulling a whimper from his lips.

 You feel his smirk as his tongue slips past your parted lips, mapping out every inch of your mouth while his hands drop to your scarcely covered ass. Hips pushing back, involuntarily surrendering more of your ass to his. Jungkook's lips are falling from yours, hands sliding underneath the fabric of your bottoms to cup your bare ass.

 “Jungkook,” You gasp out when his hands squeeze down hard on your ass, grip pulling your body tight against his. With little to no effort, Jungkook is lifting your body off of the floor, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He walks the two of you to the bed, laying your body onto the soft mattress.

 When he had moved was lost on you, Jimin now sitting comfortably on the chair adjacent to the bed. Hard cock straining against the fabric of his swim trunks, his hand resting over it as he watched you with his best friend.

 With your legs hanging loosely from his hips, Jungkook leans down to bury his head in the crook of your neck. Sucking wet hickeys into the skin while his large hands trail down the gentle curves of your body, fingers finding the tight bows on either side of your hips. Your breaths come out labored, rapidly losing yourself in the way he's tonguing at your skin, teeth grazing its sensitivity.

 “Fuck,” He groans, hips pushing into yours. The sound of his voice nearly startling you, with how quiet he has been since the start of all this. “I never thought I'd have a chance to have you like this,” He sighs softly against your skin. Only a second was spared for you to wonder just how often he thought about having you like this. If Jimin knew.

 Jungkook's hands were quickly traveling up your back, a single tug on the string of your bikini had it loosening around your chest. He wastes no time with discarding it, tossing it somewhere behind him before leaning down. Hot tongue connecting with your hardened bud, rolling it around in his mouth. A soft moan slips past your lips, head falling back just enough to catch sight of Jimin.

 Teeth worrying his plush lips, a hand-dipped into the front of his shorts as he watches you. Hooded eyes find yours and you swear you see his cock twitch in his hand. Your fingers tangled in Jungkook's hair, holding his head against your chest as he grinds his covered cock against the flimsy material of your bathing suit.

 Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling his closer as you lift your hips. Jimin's groan mixes with the sound of yours, Jungkook's head lifting only for a moment to catch sight of his older friend, only to drop back down mouth latching onto your neglected nipple.

 “Make her cum, Kook,” Jimin speaks hastily growing impatient with how slow Jungkook was being. How he seemed to be taking his time, reveling in each moment he had with you. Allowing himself to memorize every inch of your body while he had the chance.

 The sight demand has Jungkook's body jumping to action, teeth grazing over your nipple as his hand travels down the front of your body dipping into your bottoms and covering your pussy without pause.

 Your legs squirm while his fingers toy with your bundle of nerves a wet trail of kisses, creating a line from your breasts down the middle of your body. You're sprawled out beneath him, legs wide as you wait for what you know is coming. It's not long before his head is between your legs, looking up at you with the sexiest pout and you feel as though you could cum at the sight.

 “You're soaked,” His head is tilting slightly, licking along your slit in one click motion and you're moaning out. “I've always wondered the sounds you'd make having your cute little pussy eaten.” His thumb is covering your clit, stroking it gently as your core flutters, from the growing smirk on his face, it's safe to say he noticed.

 Strong hands holding your legs apart, Jungkook lunges forward to press his soft lips against your folds. He sucks kisses against your damp lips, tongue stroking against them slowly. You're whimpering, can feel your pussy dripping as you reach down to tangle your fingers in his soft locks.

 He's quick with the up-down movement of his tongue against your slick pussy lips, tracing over each ridge and cure but avoiding that one spot he's sue would have you falling apart instantly. Instead, kept his thumb pressed against it still, motionless.

 Your hips lift, rocking into his face while his tongue lowers to tease your wanting entrance. Large hands curling around your hips to grasp the cure of your ass, pulling your body tighter against his mouth. “Fuck, Jungkook!” The shout falling from your lips as he ups his speed, the tip of his nose nudging against your clit.

 Jimin's breathy groan sounds from behind you, the familiar fap of his hand working against his hardened cock filling your ears and egging you on. His thumb slowly plays with the head, spreading the precum leaking from it. Having him watch you, turned on by the sight of you moaning his friend's name, turned on enough that he was jerking himself off at the sight. It made you feel hot, an unexplainable rush of desire coursing through your veins.

 Jungkook is pulling his tongue from inside of you it quickly being replaced with two long fingers. He pushes all the way to the knuckle, curling them to press deep inside of you. You feel the coil in your stomach slowly tighten as he continues his movements, your orgasm approaching.

 A silent scream leaves your lips the moment his lips are wrapping around your neglected clit, sucking softly as his tongue teases it. Hips lifting and rolling, body convulsing as your orgasm begins to wash over you. Jungkook's grip tightens around your shaking thighs, holding your legs in place as he pushes another finger inside of you.

 His lips suck down harder, head tilting to the side to twist your clit along with it. That paired with the new stretch of his added finger have you cumming hard all at once. His name leaves your lips in a desperate mewl, grip tightening in his hair as your back arches off the bed.

 Jungkook's pulling his fingers from your body, letting up on the suction around your clit relaxing into gentle licks of his tongue. His strong hands cover your ass, holding your body against his mouth as you ride out your orgasm. He laps up every bit of your wet cum, ignoring the sensitive twitch of your legs until he's finished. Until he's satisfied and sitting upon his knees, licking your arousal from his lips.

 He's staring at you with so much want, lust, lips slightly swollen and very red. His hair sticks up messily around his head from the grip of your fingers, chest heaving with heavy breath as he watches you.

 Jimin stands from his position behind you, hands tugging his shorts the rest of the way down his legs before he's taking slow strides in your direction. With much effort, you're lifting your body until you're seated. He grins down at you, a hand wrapped around his length while the other reaches for the nape of your neck.

 “I want you to suck me off while Jungkookie fucks you open, how's that sound?” He's wearing such a sweet smile on his face, a direct contradiction to the words that fall from his lips and the vulgar things they convey. You're nodding your head quickly, either way, leaning into his touch as his hand travels to rest against your jaw.

 Jungkook has stood from the bed, discarding his shorts in the process. He's rummaging on the other side of the room, but your focus is not on him. No, your attention is stuck on the man in front of you. His soft thumb brushing against your lower lip, your mouth falling open. He grins.

 “You made me so hard baby. Loved seeing you cum on Kookie's tongue, did it feel good?” You're nodding your head, eyes snapping up to find his. He chews on his lower lip, tracing the curves of your lips with the tip of his cock. You try to move your head to coax his cock into your mouth, but he's having too much fun teasing you to let that happen.

 Pushing your tongue out, you manage to slide it over the underside of his cock. He groans, head lolling to the side as he gives in, slowly guiding his cock past your lips and into your mouth. Your lips latch onto his dick and quickly begin licking and suckling at his length. His teeth dig into his lip as he watches you, hand reaching to grasp your hair.

 “Your mouth feels so good, baby.” He pants, rocking his hips forward slightly. Your body warms at the praise, sucking harder and speeding the bob of your head. His lower belly tightens, both hands tangled in your hair and tightening to hold your head still. Mouth widening, you allow him to push his hips forward, taking more of his cock down your throat. 

 You let him gag you, spit gathering around your lips as tears brim in your eyes. Hands braced on his hips as if that'd be enough to slow his movements. With the fucked out look on his face, the grip in your hair; it was obvious he didn't plan on letting up any time soon. Not like you even wanted him too, anyway.

 Jungkook was coming to crouch behind you, large hands finding your hips. The palm of his hand is slapping against one of your cheeks, forcing your body to jolt forward a muffled moan leaving your lips. The movement pushing you down further onto Jimin's cock, the head hitting against the back of your throat causing a cough to fall from your lips.

 Reluctantly, you pull back, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to his length as heavy coughs shook your body. Jungkook let out a loud laugh, hands on your hips positioning your body onto your knees. Jimin's unmistakably gentle hand rubbed at your back, attempting to soothe your coughs as he lined his cock with your lips once more.

 You were taking him into your mouth once more, sucking with much more fervor this time. He chuckles above you, eyes flickering up to Jungkook who's fingers caressing your wet pussy lips. “She's so wet, Hyung. Think she liked choking on your cock.” He comments, fingers lazily stroking your pussy.

 Warmth spreads through your body at his words. Jungkook was much different from Jimin, sexually as well as everything else. Where Jimin never mentioned how much he knew you liked to suck him off, Jungkook was more than willing to voice his revelation that you were particularly dripping. As if he got off on the thought of embarrassing you, and it should annoy you, but it only made you want him more.

 Wanted to prove to him that you didn't so easily wither, that it would take a lot more to make you shy away. No matter the blush the took over his cheeks every time he was crude.

 His hand reached for your hair, tangling in the soft strands and slowly pulling you off of his friend's cock. Your back was soon pressed flush against his chest, a strong arm wrapping around your waist. You can see Jimin clearly now, muscles glistening with a thin layer of sweat as his palm stroked his wet cock.

 Jungkook's dick is pressed firmly against your ass cheek and your hips slowly rock back, rubbing against it. He bites back a groan, hand dropping to hold your hips in place. “You want me to fuck you, Yn?” His mouth is right by your ear, but he's speaking loud enough for both you and Jimin to hear. “Want me to make you cum, again? But this time on my cock... make you fall apart while your boyfriend watches, you'd like that, huh?” Rough fingers find your clit, flicking and tugging at it. And you nod frantically, spreading your legs wide from him and avoiding the lust-filled gaze of your boyfriend.

 He reaches for your chin, lifting your head so you're looking directly at Jimin. Jungkook moved behind you, shifting his hips until the tip of his cock nudges your awaiting entrance. “Say it,” He hisses into your ear. “Tell him,” His lower lip drags over the shell of your ear, fingers dipping lower to spread your lips for him.

 “I want-,” You feel heat growing in your chest, Jimin's expectant gaze making you feel small. He's stroking his cock much slower now, waiting on labored breaths. Jungkook's fingers pinch your clit and pleasure shoots through your veins, body twitching. “Don't be shy, princess. He can take it...” His fingers rub figure eights into the bundle of nerves.

 There was no telling how you looked right now, fucked out and panting. Desperately trying to wiggle your hips in hope to steal away more than he was letting you have. Lips are swollen and cheeks tear-stained from having Jimin's cock down your throat moments before. Your back arches against his chest as he drags the length of his cock over your slit, teasing you.

 “I want!” You shout, an electric shock of pleasure fueling you, “Jimin, fuck... watch me. I want you to watch me when Jungkook fucks me,” You plead, crazed eyes staying trained on your boyfriend. “Want you to see him make me cum.”

 “Fuck,” Jimin groans, at the same time Jungkook is pushing inside of you. His thick cock spreading your folds and breaking through your walls. You let out a loud whine, pushing back against him welcoming each inch of his length. He's groaning only when he's bottoming out, hands falling to your hips, body dropping onto your knees again.

 “She's so tight,” Jungkook sighs, pulling his hips back until the tip of his cock is catching on your pursed entrance. He pushes forward quickly, pulling a wail from your lips. Repeating the action until he feels your walls loosening around him.

 He's soon falling into a steady pace, hips snapping against yours as his fingers bruise your hips. Your legs spread wide as you fist at the bedsheets below you, whiny moans leaving your lips as you move back against him. Jimin steps back, no doubt taking in the sight in before him. The way your eyes continue to roll, flushed cheeks and mouth open wide. How your back curves into the globes of your ass the ripple with each strong thrust of Jungkook's hips. “Fuck, baby. You're taking his cock so well,” Jimin praises with a proud look on his face. 

 His soft hand brushes your hair out of your face, holding it back in a makeshift ponytail. “How does it feel, baby?” Weakly, you lift your gaze to look up at him. “S-so good,” Voice hoarse and breathy. Jungkook grins behind you, angling his hips to slide deeper inside of you.

 “Such a good girl,” Jimin's free hand wraps around his cock. And your mouth is opening before your mind can register what he wants, warm cock filling your mouth, your lips wrapping tightly around the base.

 He's sliding down your throat easily, your head bobbing in time with the slow thrusts of his hips. You reach your hands forward to grasp his balls, hands massaging against the velvety skin and his pants. Incoherent mumbles of praise fall from Jimin's lips as his head falls back.

 He looks so hot, even from this angle. The veins of his neck prominent with the clench of his teeth. Collarbones thick and on full display, housing his well worked on pecks and the tight ripples of his abs. His hand lifts to grasp your hair, holding your head in place to thrust shallowly down your throat.

 “S-shit, I'm cumming.” Jungkook whines from behind you, hips pressed flush against your ass while his legs tighten. You feel the familiar expansion of the condom around his cock as the sounds of his whiny moans fill the room. Jimin lifts his head, a chuckle leaving his lips as his eyes find the pink-cheeked man in front of him.

 “That was quick,” Jimin teases, pulling his hips back until his cock is falling from your lips. Jungkook does the same. Your body shocked instantly with emptiness, you whine in protest, hips wiggling in search of your release.

 “It's been a while,” Jungkook defends, slumping against the mattress, arms lifting to cover his eyes. Desperately trying to slow his breathing, not paying any mind to the cum that leaks the condom in thick globs painting the sheets underneath him. “Did Kookie even make you cum?” Jimin's words are directed to you and you're quick to shake your head.

 He tsks, hand reaching for your thigh and flipping your body onto its back. Your legs spread as he lowers himself between them, cock easily pushing its way deep into your pussy. A moan falls from your lips, hips lifting to meet his thrust. “Let me show you how to do it.”

 Jungkook is removing his arm from his eyes, turning his attention to yours and Jimin's bodies. He watches as Jimin's firm ass lifts and drops into you, each powerful thrust pushing your body up. Watches as your nails mark up his smooth back. Listens to the way his groans mix with your whimpers.

 Your eyes catch his for a moment, and you're soon realizing that he's not watching you. Mouth parted and eyes dazed as he stares. But not at you. Jimin's reaching his hand down, fingers finding your clit as he pushes you toward your nearing orgasm. Eyes screwing shut, you let yourself feel it.

 Toes curling and back arching as your release washes over you. Jimin hisses from the way your walls clench around his cock, his thrusts becoming sloppy, untimed. Jungkook watches as he cums, filling you up. Your name falling from his lips in a breathy moan. Your legs tighten around his waist, holding his body tight against yours.

 Minutes pass before Jimin is pulling out, rolling onto his back with a huff. He grins wide down at you, lips catching yours in a loving kiss as his hand moves between your legs, pushing his escaped cum back into your pussy. You can't help the giggle that leaves your lips from the feeling.

 “You did so well, baby.” He's complimenting you after his lips are releasing yours. You smile wide, eyes shifting between him and Jungkook. “It was amazing, thank you.” Jungkook nods his acknowledgment while Jimin presses another kiss to your lips, before standing from the bed.

 “I'm gonna go run you a bath,” Jimin grins, kissing the top of your head gently before disappearing into the bathroom. The second he's gone, Jungkook is standing from the bed. His cheeks are flushed, hair messy, and he looks out of breath; but nevertheless he's moving as if he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

 You let him. Don't bother to ask him why. You know why. And now that you knew, all the little things surrounding were starting to make sense. As if a neon sign had been flashing the warning from the beginning, but you had chosen to ignore it. Explained it away as Jungkook being a protective best friend, but you were wrong. You were so wrong. Realization was hitting you all at once and you wondering how many of their conquests found out the exact same thing.

 Jungkook was in love with Jimin.

requests are open

[puckyeahobx]

they tried to sweep us into the cracks in the wall

not my gif

a/n: i really hope you guys aren’t getting tired of my rafe apologist behavior because it’s just gonna keep coming. this one is a little long but i really like how it turned out! i just hope rafe gets some form of redemption arc or SOMETHING because he truly is just a product of his toxic, abusive environment and i know he’s good at heart. (it helps that drew is my dream man tho) *title inspired by chapstick by hippo campus*

summary: there’s a huge storm in the obx one night and y/n is stuck at the diner she works tirelessly at. little does she know that her beloved diner is about to become refuge for the last person she’d ever dream of feeling empathy for.

warnings: none! fluff overload 

word count: 7.6k (meep)

You had been working at this cafe by the beach for a couple of years now, ever since you had turned 16. You needed the money to save for college and get the hell out of your house and, one day, the Outer Banks. It’s not that you didn’t love it there, because of course you did. It was home after all but you just knew that you were meant for more. But, it had been almost four years at this cafe, two at the closest community college, and things weren’t looking good on the whole “meant for more” front. Lost as ever, you just kind of took every day as it came and tried to keep a smile on your face as you did so. It wasn’t a particularly hard life, nor was it ridiculously painful, but you couldn’t help but think of what sixteen year old Y/N would have thought of you four years older in the same shitty apron and clunky work shoes.

Much like your life hadn’t changed much in the last four years, the cafe hadn’t changed since before you were born. The same old people came in on the same days at the same times, which was good because it meant you got to know them really well, usually meaning bigger tips for you, but it was kind of a slap in the face with the whole complacency thing. You were the youngest people ever in that building, besides Mildred’s granddaughter Celia who came in for brunch every Sunday at 10:45 (right after mass), and since this is where you spent pretty much all your time, your dating life was also suffering. This obviously wasn’t the most pressing variable in the situation, but it was a variable all the same and it wasn’t like you could pretend like you didn’t notice. Because you did. Every time a love song from the 60’s came on the cafe playlist you noticed. Whenever Ester and Charles came in for their Monday morning coffees and Thursday evening dinners, you noticed. Sometimes you’d be doing nothing at all and you’d notice. It was kind of impossible to ignore. You weren’t one to obsess over boys because, frankly, there weren’t any you were interested in. This was a small island, you knew your options and you were far from impressed. Sure some of them were attractive, but that usually also meant they had rocks for brains and that was just not something you were willing to indulge just because you were desperate for a warm body. This was your life for right now and you were just going to have to be ok with it. And you were. For the most part.

The good thing is that you didn’t hate your job. Food service wasn’t glamorous but the cafe was sort of like a second home to you, and since you had been there for so long the owners really trusted you. The couple that owned the place weren’t as young as they were when they opened it 25 years ago so any chance they got to hand the keys over to you for the night, they took gladly. Tonight was one of those nights. It was pouring outside as you started the closing duties. Sweeping, wiping down the tables, polishing the glassware, typical restaurant stuff. It was actually kind of relaxing. 

You were on your fourth set of mugs when you were startled by the bell above the front door jingled delightfully. It was only 9 PM so you didn’t technically close for another hour, but your usual crowd tapped out at around 7:30. But, then you realized that this customer was a part of your usual crowd. Oh no, this 6’4” twenty something in board shorts and a half-buttoned shirt was far from that. He was soaked from head to toe, his horrific Sperry’s squelching as he made his way toward the counter, looking around. He couldn’t see you from your spot hidden around the corner to the kitchen back by the dishwasher, but you could see him bright and clear.

“Hello? Is there anyone here?” His tall body and broad shoulders did not match the apprehensive tone of his voice, and it certainly was a far cry from the way you had heard him speak before. 

You stepped out from around the corner wordlessly, your towel and mug still in hand. He jumped in surprise before you could say anything. 

“Jesus Christ!”

You jumped back at his mini outburst, “You’re the one that asked if anyone was here!”

He rest his hands on the counter and huffed out a laugh, “Uh, yeah. Sorry,” he looked up, his hair (as well as the rest of him) completely soaking wet and dripping all over your freshly mopped floors, and his eyes closed in on you, “Do I know you?”

“We, uh, we went to school together. Class of 2018. You’re uh Rafe Cameron, right?” You tried to be casual, but you knew exactly who he was. Rafe Cameron: public deviant and resident party boy of Figure Eight. Needless to say you never ran in the same circle, but it was impossible not to know who he was. Some may have called in infamy.

Straightening up he smacked a hand to his forehead and then started pointing at you, snapping. “Yes duh! And you’re-” more snapping, “God it’s been so long….Something with an ‘M’?”

You knew he had never known your name, but you kind of liked that he was pretending. “It’s Y/F/N Y/L/N. I think we had geometry together sophomore year.”

“That must be why I don’t remember you, I never went to that class. Mrs. Reynolds was a bitch.”

Normally you would have scoffed and rolled your eyes at a man calling a woman a bitch but in this instance he was absolutely correct. “She was the worst,” you laughed nervously. 

There was a beat of awkward silence when you remembered what you were being paid for, “Oh so did you, um, did you want something to eat?”

He looked at you like you were speaking a foreign language until he also seemed to remember what your job was, “What? Oh, uh, no. Not really.”

“Ok...do you want coffee or anything?” You asked, confused. 

“I actually only came in because this was the only place within like ten miles that had its lights on. You do know there’s a tropical storm coming, right?” 

You did not know there was a tropical storm coming. At around 7 you turned the radio off and took aux, simultaneously cutting off any and all emergency weather reports. You could tell that the storm was rough, but it was rare for a tropical storm this time of year.

“Is that why you’re soaking wet? You got that bad just from walking inside here?”

He started to rub the back of his neck and looked down at the ground, “No, actually, I got this bad from riding my bike for the last hour.”

Wanting to avoid another awkward pause you blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “Well that’s pretty stupid.” You immediately covered your mouth with your free hand, a hot, crimson blush creeping up your neck and taking refuge all across your cheeks. The awkward pause would have been favorable.

However, instead of flipping you off and calling you a dumb slut like he and his friends had been known to do in high school, he looked back up at you and laughed. You hoped it was with you instead of at you, so you forced a laugh back. It was hard not to, his face completely changed when he laughed. It was as if all of his features shifted into something softer, rounder, open. You had gone to school with Rafe Cameron your whole life and never before would you have ever dared to describe him as warm, but that’s exactly what the person laughing on the other side of the counter was. It was almost off-putting. 

“Yeah, it was pretty fucking stupid. But, in my defense, it wasn’t raining when I got on my bike. And I didn’t have much of a choice.” The last sentence fell off his tongue a little harder, a little darker. 

“What happened?” You weren’t sure why tonight was the night you had decided to speak on impulse, but you were really starting to question why lobotomies were frowned upon. It seemed like you could use one. 

He clearly didn’t want to answer, with the way he sighed and focused his attention on the cup of coffee stirrers on the counter in front of him, but he did anyway. “You know how parents are. The old man was just sick of looking at me tonight, I guess.” His tone was casual, but his gaze on the coffee stirrers was anything but. Happy people don’t look at inanimate objects like that.

You let his omission sit in the air for a moment, making sure you didn’t say anything stupid again before settling on the one thing you knew to be a sure fire antidote. “I think you should drink some hot cocoa.”

He looked up at you and tried to wave the suggestion off, “Nah it’s ok. This storm will be over any minute now and then I’ll head out. Besides, you’re cleaning and I’m interrupting you.” He went to turn around and sit in some of the chairs but you had already turned on the machine. 

“Don’t be stupid, this storm is going to stick around for awhile. You might as well get comfortable.” The hot cocoa finished and you topped it off with whipped cream and brought it to his spot at the table closest to the counter.

He looked from the mug to you and back again, doing that thing with his neck again. “This is really nice, Y/N, but, uh, I don’t have any money.”

You scoffed and walked away, “Yeah, ok, Mr. Tannyhill.”

He got a little quieter, “No, uh, I’m serious. My dad cut me off. None of my cards work.” You turned around and saw him looking down at his shoes. His broad frame slouching over onto itself, making him look almost small. 

“Don’t worry about it. I was never going to make you pay for it anyway. Just promise I can have a sip, yeah?” You tried to keep the conversation light so he didn’t freak about the amount of honesty he was sharing with you. Why was he being so honest? Why was he talking to you at all? You suppose it would have been awkward if he had just walked in, not ordered anything, and sat down without a word, but that still didn’t explain the brutal honesty about his homelife.

He smiled at you and laughed, “Yeah, I promise. You can have as many sips as you want.” 

You returned a soft smile back and pointed to the kitchen, “I, uh, I have some other stuff in the back I need to finish up real quick. Make yourself at home, I guess.” And you turned around quickly, hoping he couldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks, and made your way back into the safety of the dishroom.

Back in the safety of the dishroom you had time to actually process what was happening for the first time all night. There you were, desperate for something in your life to start, and then all of a sudden something jolted you awake. Maybe you were being dramatic for the sake of entertainment, but as a big believer in the universe and the purposeful things it sends our way, you were not about to take this for granted. He was being so kind - so very the opposite of the Rafe you had heard the stories about for years and years. But there was more to it, the kindness didn’t even seem like an active choice. He just was. From the way he tentatively looked around for another soul in the storm, to the guilty look on his face when he couldn’t pay for the drink you had made for him (it was true, by the way. You really were never going to make him pay for it. His surprise made you wonder when was the last time he had been shown a random act of kindness like that. You felt your heart hurting for him), he was just kind and scared and considerate. Although, you might have just been romanticizing the one interaction you had had with a guy in God knows how long. It didn’t help that his shirt was almost all the way unbuttoned and completely soaked through. You weren’t even letting yourself think about the way his hair was stuck to his forehead and in his eyes, because if you thought about it you were afraid you might offer up your hand in marriage.

All this not thinking about his hair had really distracted you from your cleaning, so you were even further behind. You still had four racks of mugs to wash and dry as well as three containers of silverware to sort. Normally, you would have been by now. But normally, there wasn’t a soaking wet boy in your cafe. 

Just when you were almost done not thinking about him, you heard his voice coming from somewhere much closer than the table by the window. “Um, do you need any help?” He asked from the doorway. 

You jumped, almost dropping the mug in your hand.

“We should probably stop sneaking up on each other, you might end up breaking a mug,” He chuckled as he walked towards you, tugging a dry towel off the rack by the door. “So, where do we start?”

You stared blankly back at him, not trusting your brain to come up with something intelligent to say. 

He chuckled offhandedly at your agape mouth, taking the wet mug from your hands and drying it before setting it on the rack with the rest, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer. And, even better, it might just restore my image,” He paused and held his hands out in front of him with a grand gesture, “‘Outer Banks Playboy and Coke Addict Rafe Cameron Attempts Manual Labor’ That’ll be a hit for sure. Do you have any more washed mugs or should I do that too?”

Snapping out of your trance, you cleared your throat and pulled out a rack of freshly washed mugs and set them in front of you both. He was standing so close to you that you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him through his soaked shirt. 

“You know, we have extra uniform shirts in the back. I could get you one,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“A job offer, huh? I’m impressing you that much already?”

You felt yourself start to blush again, “No, uh, I just meant because you’re probably cold. It’s not good to stay in wet clothes. If you don’t want one that’s fine I just thought-”

He stopped your train of thought when he rested a hand on top of the one you had been using to scrub the same spot on the mug you had been scrubbing since you started talking, “I’d really appreciate that, Y/N. Now, set the poor mug down. It never did anything to you,” it could have been teasing, but it honestly didn’t sound like anything other than him trying to ease the tension you were so obviously feeling. 

You nervously laughed and walked out of the kitchen to get the shirt, trying to avoid eye contact. Returning with what you hoped was the right size, you stepped into the kitchen still not looking at him, “I didn’t know what size you would want, but it was between this and a XS and that just seemed unrealistic.”

When you finally looked up you fully almost passed out. There was Rafe Cameron, in your cafe dish room, topless. He was standing over the drain on the ground, wringing out his other shirt. His biceps tensed with each twist of his arms and you swear you heard yourself gulp. He looked up at you as you finished talking, straightening up and giving you a full view of him. While you had run in different circles in high school, you weren’t blind. And you definitely weren’t stupid. Rafe had always been good-looking. This wasn’t a shock. It was completely a context thing. But that didn’t change the fact that suddenly your mouth had gone dry as you tried to somehow drink in the image of his entire body without coming off as some freak with zero social skills.

“Just toss it here, thanks,” he caught it with one hand (sexy) and slipped it over his head, doing that thing where boys shake out their hair after putting a shirt on, and smoothing it out over his chest and stomach. “Fits like a damn glove.” He shot back another one of those uncharacteristically enthused smiles before setting his wet shirt on top of the washing machine and getting back to work on the mugs. “Are you just gonna stand there, Y/L/N or are you gonna help me?”

You slowly made your way back over to him, too nervous to make any sudden movements. What if you just blinked for too long and suddenly he was gone? Finally getting back to work, you stood further away from him this time

“I don’t bite,” he whispered to you as he leaned in close to your ear. 

Laughing nervously you scooted to the side a little closer, “Sorry. I’m just, surprised, that’s all.”

“Not everyday someone so good looking turns up at your door and offers you free labor?” 

“I was more so thinking about it being you specifically, the ‘Outer Banks Playboy’ and all. This doesn’t really seem your speed,” you shrugged as you placed another dry mug on the rack.

He sighed, “Yeah, well, the outer banks playboy hasn’t really done me any favors recently. I think I’d much rather move at this speed.”

You scoffed, “I hate to break it to ya buddy but the speed you’re referring to might as well be a standstill. Nothing about this place has changed in the last 25 years and that includes the customers. I’d take Playboy over Groundhogs day any time. Much more glamorous.”

“I’m not so sure about glamorous, Y/N...you did hear me say that I’m completely broke, right? Doesn’t really scream luxury.”

You faltered, surprised that he brought this up again on his own accord. “I hope you don’t mind me asking,” You started after a pause, “But what happened that was so bad that your dad kicked you out in the middle of a tropical storm?”

Stopping his motions completely, he set the halfway dried mug down and sighed, closing his eyes, “To be honest, this happens like every week. Nothing really happens, it's just like, he remembers I exist and picks something to be mad about. This week it was because I didn’t go to college, one of his personal favorites,” He laughed in spite of himself and shook his head, focusing back on the mug, “The one thing that changed was that I couldn’t take it anymore. I just got on my bike and left. I’ve been staying at Top’s since but then his parents kicked me out after Ward told some lies about how useless I was and how they shouldn’t enable me...maybe they weren’t lies, but it’s still fucked.”

You had long since forgotten the mug you were supposed to be drying, too focused on looking up at him to make sure he wasn’t going to crack at any moment. He didn’t seem emotional about all this but that just made you even more nervous. You reached out to set your hand on top of his gently, a sign of camaraderie. “Rafe, that- that is so fucked up. I’m so sorry. I had heard stories about Ward but that...wow…”

“Pretty fucking unbelievable, huh?” He scoffed, “What a stand up guy. I haven’t even done anything to piss him off in months. He didn’t even notice that I stopped doing blow…”

You tried not to show any visible signs of that news shaking you to your core - you thought the coke addict thing had been a joke. 

He shook his head and started working on the mug again, finishing off the last in your guys’ stock. “I don’t really know why I’m telling you all of this. I’d be super fucking weirded out if I were you...sorry about that.”

“I don’t mind,” You said sweetly, tossing your used towel in the hamper. “I don’t get a lot of company around here, so I take what I can get. Daddy issues be damned.”

He let out another one of those honest-to-God laughs again which you were relieved by. It was amazing how easy being with him was considering everything you had thought you had known about him. Some people really do change after high school, huh. 

“You’re funny,” he remarked as he finished up laughing, swinging his towel over his shoulder and running his hands through his hair, “So...what’s next boss?”

“I still have some silverware to bag up but you really don’t have to help me, I’m a big girl I can handle it myself. Besides, you’ve had a long day of being homeless.” You joked, grabbing the silverware and setting up to sort them. He made no sign of moving. You rolled your eyes, “Rafe, I’m serious. I can get this done in like twenty minutes,” and turned away from him to focus on the task at hand.

Almost as soon as you were done talking though, he was already right beside you, “But if I help we can be done in ten. What kind of asshole would I be to let the beautiful girl I burdened with my presence work while I sat and did nothing?” And, with that, he pulled out another tray of silverware and got to sorting. All you could do was smile to yourself and try not to look at him. If you did you were sure you’d embarrass yourself with the blush and giant smile stretched across your face. This truly seemed like a dream. Too good to be true. It was no passionate affair, but it was more than enough for you. As you finished the silverware (he was right, it did take ten minutes), you found yourself hoping that the storm was raging even harder than before, with no signs of stopping. 

Once you finished the last chore of the night, it was time to face the fact that it was too unsafe to travel anywhere for the time being. It was creeping further into the night and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tired, but you would seriously be damned if you did anything to miss out on the absolute miracle unfolding before you. So, you tried to plow through it regardless of how completely exhausted you were. 

Rafe was in the middle of trying to build a pyramid out of the menu cards from the tables while you sat opposite of him, rotating through the same three apps on your phone like you had been for the last 45 minutes when you let out the most dramatic yawn of your life. 

The pyramid toppled over and Rafe sighed, “This is stupid. We need to talk about a game plan.”

“What-what do you mean?” You struggled to ask through your second yawn.

“You’re clearly exhausted so we should probably decide who is sleeping where since I doubt there’s going to be any chance I’m getting back on that bike any time within the next eight hours,” He paused to survey the small cafe, clearly trying to come up with a solution. “There’s a booth over in that corner that looks like it might work, and the stools at the counter have some cushions we could remove for pillows….I’m sure my shirt is probably dry by now for you to use as a blanket…”

“First of all, you can keep your shirt. Really, I’ll be fine,” You pretended to be annoyed but truthfully, the thought of curling up with something of his made you want to sob. “Second, I can just sleep on the floor. I’m the one that cleans it so I don’t really mind.”

He was already up and gathering the cushions off the stool, “Just shut up and let me be a gentleman. It’s handled.” And, before you could say no, he was arranging a couple of cushions on the booth, fluffing them for dramatics. “It’s beautiful.” Truthfully, it was a 25 year old glorified couch cushion with two paper thin cushions resting on top of it. But sure, beautiful would work. 

“Well this is very sweet but I can’t let my guest sleep on the floor…”

“Guests are usually invited, I don’t think I count. Now! Into bed you go. You’ve had a long day.” He gestures towards the booth.

“Where are you going to sleep?” You asked tentatively, hoping he’d say right next you.

He shifted his weight back and forth between the heels and balls of his feet, “Erm, probably in that corner with the rug. Don’t worry, I saved a stool cushion for myself though.”

“This is so stupid-”

He put a finger on your lips and shushed you, your eyes surely popping out of your skull. Once he was sure you were done talking, he rested both of his hands on your shoulders, easing you down onto the booth. Convinced he had cast some sort of spell, you didn’t put up a resistance and sat down, still looking up at him with a stunned expression.

“What’s stupid is you refusing kindness from Rafe Cameron. People aren’t going to believe you when you tell them so you might as well milk it for all its worth, sweetheart,” His voice was a little breathier than before and your mouth seemingly had gone dry because of it. 

Sweetheart. Shit. 

When you didn’t say anything, he squeezed one of your shoulders and laughed to himself, “I’m trying this new thing where I put good in because I heard that’s how you get good out. How am I doing so far?”

You tried to speak but nothing came out at first which made you want to crawl in hole and die of embarrassment, but then you cleared your throat and nodded, “Um...yeah! So far so good.”

He smiled and straightened up (you already missed the feeling of his hands on your shoulders, on you period), “That’s what I like to hear. Well...I’m gonna turn off the lights and head over to my corner.” He paused for a second before turning around and then again before he got to the lights, this time turning back towards you, “Thank you, uh, again, for being so cool. Sorry for ruining your night.”

He turned the lights off.

You heard yourself halfway whispering “This has been one of the best nights of my life” before your eyes started to close on their own accord.

“Mine too,” you heard from an even quieter voice as something linen was draped gently across your back and shoulders. 

And then it was quiet, and you fell asleep praying to God you wouldn’t wake up in your bed in the morning. 

--------------

When you woke up suddenly, jolting straight up in bed - well, booth - after a particularly loud thunder clap you truly had no idea where you were or whose shirt was draped over your shoulder. It wasn’t until you heard a voice from a disembodied lump in the other corner that the memories of the previous four-ish hours hit you like a truck.

“You snore.”

It was pitch dark but you knew you were red as a beet. Death seemed preferable.

“Don’t worry, it’s the cute kind. Like the little ones, not the chainsaw ones.” There was a tenderness in his voice that would have made you fall over if you weren’t already sitting down.

“Is that why you’re still up? Because I was being loud? I’m so sorry-”

You heard him shift and groan, his body adjusting against the stone floors, “No, no. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. Too much going on up here, ya know,” he paused, “I’m uh pointing at my head...it’s dark.”

You let out a laugh and laid back against the cushion, “I kinda figured.”

“Yeah that was stupid I don’t know why I felt the need to clarify,” he laughed back.

A comfortable silence fell over you two for a moment once the laughter died out. 

Before you could stop yourself, you whispered “Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighed and shifted again, “I’ve already kind of talked your ear off I think.”

“I don’t mind.” 

When he didn’t respond immediately you started to get nervous that you had overstepped. You were just about to tell him to forget it, that he didn’t owe you any sort of explanation, when you heard what sounded like a sniffle. Rafe Cameron was fucking crying.

“It’s just uh,” you could tell he was trying to keep his voice even and your heart shattered, “I’m just tired of being the bad guy, I guess. I just wish I could do the right thing, ya know?” He paused, “Do you ever just- just you know, wish you could change everything about yourself?”

You turned on the booth towards the direction of his voice and sighed, “Every day of my life.”

He let out a wet, pathetic laugh, “Yeah. It sucks.”

Another pause, this time not so quiet as you heard him try to catch his breath. 

“Rafe?” 

“Yeah?” He sounded nervous.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad guy.” The fondness you had discovered that you had for him was seemingly filling you up completely. Every corner of your body was full of it. You hoped he could hear it. You hoped he believed you. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said through another wet laugh, “But you might be the only one.”

This time, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you grabbed his shirt and the cushions he had used to make your bed and walked to where his voice was. The light from the security lamp on the corner of the building filtered through just barely so you can see the outline of his trembling body. There was a broken boy at your feet and you set the cushions down beside him, draping the shirt over him like he had for you and laid down next to him. It was intimate, your front pressed against his back as you held him through the cries he still was hoping you couldn’t hear, but that was it. You didn’t need or want anything besides him being able to feel the tenderness coming from you. 

After a few moments he gave, turning to face you as he rested his head on your chest and let out a real sob. He grabbed onto you as if you could get up and go at any moment and your fingers threaded through his hair gently, doing anything you could think of to soothe him. He kept mumbling apologies to you but you just shushed him and held on tighter, trying not to let your own tears fall. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he sobbed into your chest, your work shirt becoming soaked.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.” 

------------

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you woke up the events of the night before immediately popped in your head. Partly because they were arguably the most exciting things to happen to you in years, but also because it was sort of hard to forget with there was a sleeping boy on top of you. 

His arms were wrapped around you and half on your side, half on your back, and fully uncomfortable. The stone had not been kind to your back, and the weight of 6’4” Rafe Cameron didn’t really help, but hell would freeze over before you dared move and disturb the peace before you. His eyelashes were so long they rested on the top of his cheek as he snored just the littlest bit, his bottom lip pouting out as he did so. The storm had caused his hair to get soaking wet just for it to dry chaotically around his forehead. It wasn’t his normal slicked back look, but rather unkempt and surfer-like. It was falling on his forehead perfectly and every time you breathed it shifted just the tiniest bit. 

By some miracle it was a Sunday which meant you didn’t open until 10 am and judging by the way the sun was barely creeping above the ocean, you guessed it was probably somewhere between 7 and 8. You knew that eventually you both would have to move, but not yet. Please, God. Not yet. Because if he moved, that meant he would leave, and you weren’t prepared to cope with that kind of loss so early in the morning. Or ever, possibly. 

It was almost embarrassing how much you cared about this boy that you were almost certain was a sociopath twenty four hours ago. But now it was as if everything had ever known had changed. Everything seemed brand new: The sun, the stone beneath your spine, the shape of his lips. This might have been some fluke that he would pretend never happened, but you knew in your heart that nothing could ever be the same for you after this. What a crushing blow to know that your life was able to change without your permission. 

Before you could get too philosophical before noon, your worst fear was confirmed as you felt him shift. It was endearing to see him be so human in those first few moments of awake-ness. He removed himself from your skin, resting up on one of his elbows, as he wiped his eyes and tried to piece together exactly what had happened to make him end up in this very position. After he had looked around and decided he was in no mortal danger, his tired eyes fixed on you. They were still a little puffy from all of the crying, but they hadn’t lost the softness you caught yourself getting lost in. 

“Good morning,” His voice was gravel in the morning and you jotted that down as a fun fact to bury deep in your memory in case you never got to hear it again. 

“Good morning,” You couldn’t even bother to be embarrassed by how small your voice sounded. He was goddamn breathtaking this early in the morning. 

He looked around again, shaking his head slightly as if to shake off the exhaustion, “What time even is it?”

“I’m not sure, my phone is dead, but I’m going to guess sometime before 8.”

To your surprise, his elbow dropped and he rested himself right back against you, nuzzling slightly, “Too early. Need sleep.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you apprehensively threaded your fingers through his hair, “I can’t argue with that logic, but the cafe does open in two hours and I think my smell might offend some of the customers.”

He put his face against your chest and sniffed slightly before resting his cheek again, “You smell great. Screw the customers.”

You wanted to stay there all day but there was just no way. If it wasn’t Fran and Neil banging on the door at 10 AM sharp like they do every Sunday, it was going to be your parents sending out a search party. You may be 20, but you still lived under their roof and they never let you forget it.  “Rafe…”

Rolling over onto his back he sighed, “I know, I know. I should probably go.” He started to get up when you grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down. 

“No! No that’s, uh, that’s not what I meant. I mean, you don’t have to go anywhere. You can hang out here all day if you want for all I care. It’s a free country!” You were rambling. “I just need to get some clean clothes and shower before this six hour shift, that’s all.”

“Y/N, I’m not going to stay here while you go home. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He started to get up again and this time you didn’t stop him, conceding to defeat. You were already burying this whole night deep in the recesses of your mind where the memories of it couldn’t hurt you when he held his hand out, “Need help up? That stone is a bitch.”

Once he had helped you up you both just sort of stopped and stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat and started to look around, “Besides, I uh have some things I need to take care of anyway.”

You nodded and crossed your over your chest, “Yeah, yeah I get it. Good luck, with everything.”

He nodded awkwardly back at you, “Thanks, I’ll, uh, need it,” He tried to laugh but it sounded so forced it just made you even sadder.

You were about to respond when he leant down and gave you the quickest kiss on the cheek known to man. Another awkward nod and he was turning on his heels towards the door. “I’ll see you around?” He asked as he swung the door open.

“You know where to find me.”

And with that, he was out the door and one his bike. You didn’t know where he was going, but it was away, and that was just enough to break your heart. 

----------------

The rest of the day was torture. Your usual Sunday morning customers were not as charming as they usually were, the sun wasn’t bouncing off the coastline as it usually did, and the mundaneness of your life wasn’t as easy to ignore as it once was. After he had left you set the cushions back where they belonged and got into your car and headed home. Before you left though, you saw his shirt laying on the floor where your two bodies had shared sleep and you took it with you as you left. You knew it was best to forget that this had ever happened, but you’d do that after the smell of him mixed with the rain faded from the cotton. Upon returning home you were lectured by your parents for not telling them where you were, and during the middle of a storm, for crying out loud! But nothing they said had any meaning. You hated yourself for how melodramatic you felt, but you couldn’t help it. What were you supposed to do after a night like that? Move on? Seemed unrealistic, in all honesty. 

You got ready for work and managed to trudge through the work day until close again. The cafe closed early on Sundays, thank God, so by 6:30 you were locking the doors and were back in the kitchen sorting silverware drying mugs (both of which made you want to cry whether you wanted to admit it or not) when you heard a bang on the glass doors out front. Scared out of your mind, you grabbed a dirty knife and slowly turned the corner. But when you saw the person on the other side of the door, the knife was forgotten as you dropped it and hurtled toward the lock. 

As soon as Rafe saw you his face broke open, his smile just amplified by the sunsetting behind him. He was in different clothes now, but his hair looked the same and he looked so much happier than the last time you saw him. You fumbled with the lock until you finally got it, swinging the door open and letting in a giant current of ocean spray, wildflowers and him, him, him. 

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face but you tried to come off as casual anyway, “Back so soon? We’re closed you know...This time it actually is an imposition. If this is just your master plan to get free hot chocolate you are sorely mistaken sir.”

He waited for you to stop rambling to ask politely, that smile still all over his face, “Can I come in?”

You wordlessly moved out of the way as he stepped in and turned back to you. 

“So what do I owe to this great pleasure? Did you forget something-”

But before you could get the whole sarcastic remark out, your lips were being crushed by something soft and desperate. His hands cupped either side of your face as he kissed you wildly. Your hands immediately found the nape of his neck and you leaned in even closer to him, trying to make it clear that he could wield you any way he wanted. 

He pulled a part far too soon, his breath completely uneven in a way that made you feel like you were dreaming, “Uh yeah, actually. That. I forgot that.” 

His hands were still on your face, yours still in his hair, “Well what took you so long then?” You laughed, just as breathless as him. 

“I was too busy trying to convince my dad that I was a good person. It took a couple of hours, but I don’t think he hates me anymore. He reopened all of my cards and is letting me live in the guest house-”

“That’s great Rafe!”

“On one condition...” He sounded nervous, but the faintest trace of a smile still danced across his lips.

Your voice lowered, “I’m nervous.”

“I have to get a job…” He paused waiting for you to catch on, but you just stared blankly back at him. You were still reeling from that kiss. “And I guess I was hoping that this very cafe might be hiring?”

Your smile got even wider and your whole body felt like it was glowing, “You know what I think we are,” You all but giggled.

His hands fell to your hips where he squeezed slightly, laughter bubbling off his tongue, “Perfect! When can I interview?”

“Right now!” You enthusiastically pushed him into the chair behind him and he fell back less than gracefully. “Who is the best employee at this cafe?”

“Hmmmmm I don’t know, Y/N, you did give away free hot chocolate...That doesn’t seem very business conscious.”

“Do you want the job or not?” Your eyebrows raised at him as a warning. 

He laughed again and looked up at you again and grabbed your hands, pulling you between his legs, “I think you are not only the best employee at this cafe, but the best looking employee at any cafe that has ever been built.”

You scoffed and threw one of his hands off yours, pushing his shoulder. 

“So did I get the job?”

You looked down at him and smiled, unable to even pretend to be annoyed, “Well, Mr. Cameron, I have reviewed the facts and it looks like you’ll be the perfect fit. Luckily for you, flattery will get you everywhere.”

He smirked at you and pulled you into his lap, “Oh yeah? I like the sound of that.” His voice was slightly teasing but there was no mistaking his hot breath against your neck.

“Get your mind out of the gutter! I was strictly speaking professionally.” The blush was creeping all over your body when he pulled away. 

“So was I, boss. What do you take me for?” He feigned hurt and you saw right through it.

Deciding to tease him right back, you raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do you seriously want me to answer that?” 

With that he scoffed and rolled your eyes at you, giving up on your games. You laughed in his face and wrapped your arms back around his neck, assuring him you were just teasing. It didn’t take much convincing because soon he had forgiven you, his lips back on yours in an instant. 

You went to sleep that night thanking your lucky stars for that worn down cafe and the tropical storm that brought him to you, still not being able to believe your luck. Sleep came for you as images of his smile fluttered past your eyelids, a smile permanently tattooed on your lips. 

[giyuwu-san]

spike into water // ushijima wakatoshi

— It’s sports season! Volleyballs and swimming caps are everywhere in this unlikely love story! But can the aspiring swim captain find a way for romance with the stoic volleyball captain Ushijima Wakatoshi?

↱ PAIRING : Ushijima Wakatoshi x Female-Swimmer!Reader

↱ WORD COUNT : 7.6K

↱ WARNINGS : Angst, Pining, Slow-burn

↱ TAGS : @assortedanime​ @tetsukuroos​ (I’m not even sure if you guys remember asking to be tagged LMAO)

↱ ASK :  Hi! I dont know if you are still accepting requests, but if you are can i request for a oneshot of Wakatoshi falling for the (fem) swim captain at Shiratorizawa who also happens to be on the Japan swim team. I dont have a specific scenario for them interacting they could be dating and she shows up to one of games against karasuno(?) (I’ll leave jt up to you anything is fine) 😅. Thank you so much ! ❤️

↱ AUTHOR’S NOTE : It’s finally here! I’m also testing out a new format nyehe tell me what you think! Anyways this fic took me absolute ages and if you were one of the ones that had been with me throughout my writing process you know exactly what I’m talking about LMAO. But it’s finally here, so I hope you guys like it! This is also my first ever playlist fic, so each scene has their own song selected by yours truly! But it’s not mandatory for you to enjoy the fic! It just enhances the experience I think! Anyways, I don’t really know what else to say so I’ll just let you guys read it!

↱ PLAYLIST

------------------------------------------------✈

scene one; i’ll try 

Shiratorizawa!

The pounding of the drums sent a familiar shiver through Ushijima Wakatoshi's spine. Except for the fact that the tingling wasn't usually something he felt because of the cheers. On ordinary days, the piercing screams were nothing but background noise. Something he could unconsciously drown out.

It wasn't that he was ungrateful for the support his fellow schoolmates showed, it was quite the opposite, but with the intensity of the sport he played, the uproars could only be driven back as a mere afterthought, something he would easily forget about, a buzz at the back of his mind. 

Shiratorizawa!

Today, however, a thought was pushing through the forefront of his mind. It was like something was screaming at him to do something, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what. 

It was currently the fourth set of their game against Karasuno, and as he looked around the sea of white and maroon, as well as the contrasting colors of black and orange, he couldn't help but feel strange. 

Shiratorizawa!

          "Shiratorizawa?" 

Her face dropped as the sudden realization dawned upon her, and Ushijima had no choice but to watch silently. The way her soft eyes tensed into a tight glare, gazing back into his with a look of concealed hurt and betrayal. It pained him, to see the person he cared so much about, shrink back into the weak, vulnerable girl he had met all those years ago.

The ringing of the referee's whistle was what brought him out of his daze, walking briskly to the sidelines as the game was halted by a technical timeout. The cheers of the crowd didn't stop and with the added layer of another school, the overlapping cries were muddling together in what seemed to be a second battle off the court. The rhythmic beating of drums, the frantic clapping of cheer bats, and the deafening screams of the masses. 

School was out for the day as the sun was slowly setting outside, its rays creeping through the windows, casting a golden sheen across the empty hallways. Most of the students had already rushed out as soon as the bell rang. Ushijima, however, being a new student, had to lag behind to settle the remaining paperwork with his new teachers. 

And as he walked down through the empty floors, hands gripping the straps of his backpack, he felt his body halt as the peaceful campus was interrupted by an earsplitting scream.

The scream Ushijima heard resounded throughout the hallways, the sound ripping through his ears as it got dragged out by the constant echoes.

Who could that be? And at this time?

Ushijima didn't know the campus all that well, it was his first day, how could he? Yet as the screams only got worse, his feet started moving towards the sounds plaguing his elementary school's hallways. The cries getting louder as his feet stepped further in rapid succession, every step he took, the louder the screams rang in his ears.

As he crept closer, new sounds started inviting themselves through his senses, the screams were clearer, but now there was something else.

Are those water splashes?

Ushijima couldn't know for sure, but as his feet walked farther, he found himself halting in front of a room. 

Opening the sliding doors, he was greeted by the sight of a girl splashing around in the water, head protruding from the surface every few seconds. And at that moment, it didn't take an adult to realize that the girl in front of him, whose screams were becoming more chocked, wasn't here to swim.

She was drowning.

The timeout had ended and Ushijima was once again standing tall on the court, eyes focused and calculating. Whatever feelings were emerging from within him, the sudden wave of nostalgia that would wash over him, they could be dealt with at another time. He needed to focus, sharpen his senses on the game in front of him, but no matter how hard he tried, there would always be an inkling feeling that lingers at the back of his conscious.

The girl was shivering and clinging onto Ushijima's body. Which now matched hers as the droplets of water fell onto the tile floors beneath them.

He couldn't quite process what exactly just happened. He couldn't understand how he had found himself in this situation, but he understood that the girl was safe. And that was all he needed to understand. 

          "Don't let me go," he heard her say despite her coughs. He heard her, and he listened. Holding onto her form tighter before rushing her to the nurse.

scene two; you’ve got a friend in me

          "Toshiiii!" you said. The joy in your voice making itself known as you trudged further into the small yard with Wakatoshi and his father playing volleyball together. "Let me play too!" you pouted.

The young boy turned to you and nodded promptly, much to your delight. 

          "Y/N-chan! How nice of you to drop by!" said Ushijima's father, a wide smile plastered onto his face as he waved at you. He was always such a kind man, always welcoming you with open arms. And as you ran over to where they were playing, the smile never once left his face.

Knowing this, you could only laugh as you stared at the boy in front of you. Face emotionless and unwavering in comparison. 

It had been a year since that incident in the pool. The memories that still plagued your mind sent your body shivering similarly to how it did back then. But looking at the boy staring back at you, your troubled mind found comfort in his eyes. Eyes that were calm like the grass that surrounded him, swaying softly as the wind brushed its soft fingers through it.

          "Do you know how to play?" he asked you. 

          "N-no," you said meekly. "But if I learn, do you think I can be as good as you?"

And at that moment, the ball that was once in Wakatoshi's hands flew over to your direction. A small yelp escaped you, your arms flying up to protect your face.

          "Maybe," was his only response as you huffed and picked the ball back up.

         "I wasn't ready yet!" you tried acting mad but ended up laughing as the fifth-grader looked at you blankly once more. "Don't think I'm weak just because I'm a third-grader!"

          "But if I thought you were weak wouldn't I have warned you before throwing the ball?" he retorted back.

          "Oh yeah..." you said in sudden realization. 

Ushijima's father, who was watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but laugh.

scene three; i smile

The warm beads of sand tickled your feet. The ocean waves flowing smoothly against the surface as it danced back and forth with the current. And the sun shined brightly above, casting a sheen against all that stood below it, basking everything in sunlight. It was a beautiful day.  

Your family had decided to take a summer trip to the beach. It was the final week of your summer break, and once this was over, you would be coming back to school a fourth-grader. 

You looked towards Ushijima and his father, having had tagged along after you had invited them. The olive-haired boy still wearing the same unwavering expression. You laughed at him despite yourself. You would think someone who was going to be in the sixth-grade, and soon a junior high-schooler would at least try to make himself seem more approachable. 

You bowed to his father in greeting. The man smiling back at you before walking over to your parents for a chat, leaving you alone with Wakatoshi.

You had remained friends ever since the incident at the pool. Only having grown closer throughout the summer break with your frequent visits to his house.

          "Toshi! Let's play beach volleyball!" you piped up at him as he looked at you curiously.

          "Sure," he said.

But you should have known with your volleyball skills not having improved much, that the game was going to end quicker than you thought.

Huffing in frustration, you plopped down onto the sand with your arms crossed. 

          "Why can't I be as good as you?" you asked him. Your eyes peering up at him as a small pout played on your face.

          "Maybe you're just good at something else," he said, shoulders shrugging slightly.

          "Like what?" you asked, only for him to shrug once more. Making an exasperated sigh escape your lips as you laid down on the sand.

          "Why don't you try learning how to swim?" he asked suddenly, making your body jolt up. Your face looking up at his with bewilderment, was he insane?

          "Woah, wait, what brought this up?" you asked him. "You know I can't!"

          "Why not?" was his reply. Of course, that was his reply. "We're at a beach."

          "No," you said.

          "Why?"

          "I might drown." you looked up at him, and his eyes softened ever so slightly. He knew why you were scared, but you couldn't just keep living your life having this one memory hold you back, right? Because even if he didn't say it outright, you were his friend. And friends care about each other and want them to be better.

          "I'll teach you," he said. You looked at him with shock, but with his face looking oddly determined, you agreed begrudgingly.

The water felt cold against your body as you tried to float on top of it. With Toshi supporting you as he held you up, you tried to calm down.

But it wasn't working.

The feeling of having the air blocked out, the feeling of your vision blurring, and your body going into a panic. It kept playing at the back of your mind like he was going to let go and watch you sink deeper and deeper. You felt like shaking, maybe you were, but then suddenly—

          "It's okay," he said, holding you tightly. "I won't let you go." 

He looked at you carefully, attentively.

          "So just breathe."

He was right, it was okay.

You took a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs, and the ocean breeze brush against your skin. He won't let go.

And soon it felt like you were floating, and you were. Toshi gently moving you around the water as your body continued to float against it. You looked at him, and you smiled. 

It didn't take long until he started teaching you the basics of how to swim, or at least he tried to. You did now know how to float, but you still hadn't gotten over the fear of your head being below the water, and Toshi knew this. 

          "Take a deep breath," he said. And before you knew it, his hands covered your ears as he pushed both of your heads underwater.

It felt like you were entering a different realm. It felt peaceful, serene even. As he looked into your eyes to make sure you were okay, you stared back into his. The gentle hum of the ocean was something you never knew existed, its melody ringing in your covered ears as it almost lulled you to sleep. 

It was because of him that you could hear such a beautiful song, and it was because of him you suddenly felt braver, stronger.

You brought your own hands up towards his ears, cupping them the same way his hands did with yours.

You wanted to stay like this forever, in this dream, with him.

But eventually, you had to come back up for air. Breathing in as the sunlight suddenly evaded your senses, you looked into his eyes, with a new fire evident in your own.

          "One day, I'll definitely be as good as you," you said. And for the first time since meeting him at the pool that day, he smiled.

scene four; i like you

          "Nice receive!" 

The gymnasium watched on carefully at the match playing before their eyes. It was the last day of their elementary school's sports festival and the volleyball game playing on its final set was keeping everyone on edge. It was a close game. The third set seemed never-ending as both teams fought back and forth in a deuce. 

You watched Ushijima as he moved together with his team in what seemed like some sort of spontaneous choreography. They were at match point a few seconds ago, but that was until the spiker from the other team came forward, evening out the score, and bringing both teams' scores into the 30s. 

You were biting your nails, the jacket you wore seeming to be useless against the chills running through your body at the intense match. Miraculously, however, the other team's serve went too far out and placed Ushijima's team back at match point. You gripped the metal bars in front of you, your gaze fixated onto the olive-haired boy. Your head felt like exploding as the internal chanting kept getting louder and louder. And that was probably because the chanting wasn't internal anymore.

          "Ushijima Wakatoshi!" you screamed, catching the attention of both him and everyone else. "Show them how strong you really are!"

His face remained expressionless like it always was, but you could feel the aura around him change. It was almost as if the air started circling him, the air pressure shifting and rotating against all opposing currents. And you knew everyone else could feel the change too. Like everyone was getting sucked into a whirlpool, a vortex.

He jumped into the sky, the setted ball flying towards him as if it knew that was where it was meant to go. 

You saw him bring his hand down, and you saw the ball hit the floor.

You watched as the ball flew back up just as quickly as it had hit the ground. The sound it emitted seemed almost high pitched and scattered as it resounded around the silent gymnasium. The scattered sound, like droplets of water that would be thrown up into the air, punched upwards by something crashing into it. 

The ball was what crashed into it, a spike into water.

The game ended with your school's victory. The court divided in both triumph and failure, but it was a good game nonetheless.

You were walking alongside Ushijima, still as expressionless as ever. You looked at him and couldn't help but chuckle.

          "You just won a hard game," you said, eyes locking on to his profile. "Shouldn't there at least be a tiny little smile?" you chuckled even more as you brought your fingers up to the ends of his mouth and hoisting them up to form a small, makeshift smile. It was good enough.

          "I'm smiling in the inside," he said. You laughed at his attempt at being playful. But he was right. After knowing him for two years, you had grown a strange skill of identifying his moods. You knew he wasn't the type of person to wear his emotions on his face, but you knew more than anyone that he felt emotions just as intensely as anyone, if not more.

You looked at him some more, imagining what kind of smile he was wearing within himself. Would it be a goofy smile? Teeth butting out? Maybe with some gums showing? 

Or would it be the small, proud smile he showed you that day at the beach? When he looked at you like you were the most amazing person in the world. Like you were his pride and joy, the strongest person he knew.

He smiled at you like that, yet whenever you looked at him, you almost felt like crying. To you, he was the most amazing person in the world. Your pride and joy, the strongest person you knew.

You looked at him, and wanted to love him. 

You wanted to love the way his hair would turn darker when damp from sweat. The sweat that showed he had worked hard, that he had grown stronger and will continue to do so. You wanted to love the way he was always there for you when you needed him the most, even when you didn't know he was there. You wanted to love the way he looked at you. Fantasizing that maybe he would look at you, and want to love you too.

You wanted to love him, because you do.

You smiled at him, then looked forward ahead of you. 

          "Come to my game later," you said, determined. Finally having the chance to show him how hard you had worked. You zipped up your club jacket and continued looking ahead. You took a deep breath. Halting your steps, you looked at him. 

          "I'll show you how good I've gotten."

scene five; i’ll remember

The cold air of the pool washed over your entire body, sending a shiver down your spine. You looked around the room, the bright lights that shined from above you, the white walls that surrounded you, and the aquamarine tiles that were below you. You looked at the clear water that flowed calmly within its confinements. 

And then you looked at him, into his eyes.

You smiled at him, a bittersweet smile. It was his last year as an elementary school student. Soon enough, he was going to leave you behind to fulfill greater heights. He was going to leap forward and fly higher and higher.

And so were you.

You were going to show him how far you've come. That you had become someone he could be proud of, someone that you could be proud of. You were both going to become stronger.

Together.

You were both going to go separate ways, towards two different paths. And as you took your position on the stand and the whistle resounded across the room. You leaped forward towards yours.

The water hit your face as your body started moving, hearing the same song you did at the beach, just with a different melody. The tempo was faster, you were faster. It was like your body was moving, dancing, through the water. 

You felt at peace. The water that you used to fight with, the water that you couldn't get along with, had finally accepted you with open arms. Letting you move through it, forming a passage for you to cross. 

There were many setbacks. Times when you receded back into the girl that almost drowned, that was scared of the water taking her. There were times when you would lose your calm and fumble. Times when you would think back to the fear and let it consume you.

You were waiting for that moment to happen, waiting for it to appear and devour you.

But it never came.

Instead what appeared were the memories you had with him. All the times you had been with him, and all the times he had been with you.

          "I won't let you go," he said.

You wanted to thank him for these memories. Memories that helped you get through your hardest days, memories that made you remember that he was always going to be there no matter what, always beside you. 

Even if he was going to graduate soon, and leave you behind. Even if there would come a day when you would have to say goodbye, you would always keep these memories he had given you, and never let them go. Promising to yourself that you would remember.

You would remember these memories, the ones that made you love him even more.

He watched you from the sidelines as your body seemed to move in sync with the water. Watched as your head peeked out momentarily, only to gracefully dive back in. It was as if you were performing a coordinated swing, dancing along to music he could not hear.

He looked at you and saw no trace of the girl drowning in the pool that day. You had come so far, and no words could express how proud he was as he watched you swim further ahead. No fear or hesitation apparent in your form. It was like you were a completely different person.

And then your head jumped out of the water after reaching the end of the pool, and it was as if you were reborn perfectly anew. 

You locked eyes, and showed him the most radiant smile he had ever seen. How could he possibly not smile back?

He looked into your eyes that gleamed brilliantly at him. Eyes that conveyed words that only he could hear, and feelings only he could accept.

          "I told you," his smile grew wider. "I told you I'd be just as good as you." 

scene six; when you love someone

Ushijima was walking alongside you, who was smiling brightly, feet skipping. You were looking at him with the smile he had seen countless times. The smile that was so happy, it hurt him to see you any other way. 

Whenever there were times that your smile would lose its joy, it's brilliance, he wanted to give it back to you. He would do whatever it took just for your smile to stay the same. It made his heart ache thinking about the times you weren't smiling, when you were weak and shaking in his arms.

But as he looked at you now, your hair slightly damp and your eyes shining like the moon that illuminated onto them so beautifully. He looked at you now and felt his heart sing with joy. 

He remembered all those times he wanted to take your pain away. Those times when he would rather have your tears be his own. He almost wanted to curse himself for only being able to be with you, that the only thing he could do to ease the pain was to stand beside you.

He looked at you now and continued to watch you walk— grow. 

Yet again, always beside him. And he felt happy.

His heart ached and soared at the same time. Just the mere thought of you sending shivers down his spine, his young mind was racing with these new feelings he didn't understand. 

          "It was an eventful day today," he said, trying his best at conversation.  

          "It was," you said back, your face turning to look at him and— your smile. 

You're so beautiful.

The sparkle in your eyes, the pink of your cheeks, the curves of your lips, everything, everything was so beautiful.

And then, your smile softened, and soon vanished into a small frown. 

He was distraught.

          "Do you know," you trailed off slightly, your eyes dropping down onto the ground as you kept walking, "why I was drowning that day?"

          "You didn't seem to want to talk about it," Ushijima said carefully.

You chuckled a bit, playing awkwardly with your hands.

          "It wasn't anything serious." You continued, "Actually, it was kinda stupid, ya know?" 

He nodded to you, still listening. 

          "Maybe..." you drifted off once more, "maybe that's why I was so scared to tell you, cause, I thought that you would think that I was really lame."

          "I would never think that," he replied bluntly.

          "Yeah," you looked at him again, a fragment of your smile coming back to your face. "I know."

He was still looking at you expectantly, though not inclined to ask you outright, he couldn't deny that he was curious.

          "It was during swimming classes that my favorite necklace broke and fell into the pool." you laughed at yourself, cheeks heating up slightly. 

          "And so you decided to go back after school to try and get it out?" he asked, which only made you feel even dumber. 

          "Yeah..." you said, before huffing and replying, "but it was my favorite necklace, okay?!"

          "Okay," he replied, looking at you.

You stopped in your tracks and stared at him dumbly.

          "Y-You're not gonna call me dumb?" you said.

          "No," he said. "Do you want me to?" 

          "No!" you coughed. "I mean, no."

          "Okay then," he replied once more before walking again.

          "I just thought—" you sighed. "I thought you would laugh at me."

He looked at you. You were frowning with your eyes focused down onto your shoes, the smile he loved nowhere to be seen. You had just won a competition, why were you so gloomy all of a sudden? 

          "We all did foolish things when we were younger," he tried his best to cheer you up, to have you smiling again. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

You perked up at him slightly. Almost there.

          "What kind of necklace was it?" Please give me your smile again.

          "It was silver, with a little feather pendant attached to it," you said, your small smile growing ever so lightly. Just a little more.

          "I see," he said, watching you intently. Waiting for your smile to grace him with its presence once more, please let me make you smile.

He stopped dead in his tracks, causing you to do the same. Turning his body towards yours, he looked at your confused face. Your face looked so pretty under the street lamp, the dull lighting draping over your features so casually. But he knew that your smile could outshine the lamp tenfold. So please, just smile, be happy. 

He brought his index fingers to the corners of his mouth, stretching them up and forming a wide makeshift smile. 

You're so beautiful when you're happy.

You started laughing, and his heart was overjoyed. 

He hoped you could hear him, hear his heart beating— singing for you.

And so as you laughed at him, the smile he loved so much making its way back to your face, he promised to do everything he could to make it stay. 

All your struggles, all your pain, he would carry them for you. Because that's what you do; when you love someone.

scene seven; i need somebody

You smiled brightly at the slightly flustered Ushijima, his fingers that were once on the corners of his mouth now falling back down to his sides. You watched him look at you, and the frown that you had earlier made its way back to your face. 

You wanted to prepare yourself— prepare him for what you had to say. No matter how much you thought about it, you couldn't find the right words and rambled instead. But even in your struggles and indecisiveness, you had to tell him.

          "Toshi," you started. Feeling the lump in your throat as you stared into his olive eyes. You eventually turned and looked away. "Where are you going for junior high?" 

A simple, evasive question, it was all you could muster.

He seemed to have thought nothing of it, "Shi—" but that was until he stopped, and stumbled. But even with his momentary uncertainty and falter, he still looked at you.

          "Shiratorizawa," he finally said to you.

          "Shiratorizawa?" 

Your face dropped as the sudden realization dawned upon you, and Ushijima had no choice but to watch silently. You had expected it— knew that this was how it was going to happen, yet the true reality of the situation had only hit you now. After all the desire for improvement and strength had calmed down, all that was left was you and him, standing in front of each other in a dimply lit alley, cursed with the impending fate of a goodbye.

Your soft eyes started to fill with unknowing tears, gazing back into his with a look of hurt and melancholy. It pained him, to see the person he cared so much about, shrink back into the weak, vulnerable girl he had met all those years ago.

But you could still visit each other, he thought. Your houses were still close. Nothing needed to change, right?

          "Oh," you said. "My family and I are moving to Australia." 

          "Oh," he said back. "I see."

          "Yeah..." you fiddled with your fingers, the lights above you flickering.

You thought that it was over, it was done. There was nothing else that was needed to be said. And so you turned and walked away, even when you didn't want to. 

You wanted to turn around and hug him, tell him that you didn't want to go. Cry into his arms and listen to him. Listen to how his heart was beating too fast, listen to him breathing unsteadily. Listen to him as he would mutter a weak invitation to his graduation ceremony, that he wanted you to stay, with him. 

But none of it came, there was no invitation, there were no hugs, and no turning back. 

You wanted to stop and— just stop and not go, to stay. But you didn't.

And he didn't stop you. 

Ushijima spiked the ball hard into the other side of the court. Feeling all the adrenaline rush in with the unwelcome resurgence of memories fogging his mind into an intense haze. 

He suddenly remembered the way your eyes shined in the moonlight that very night. The way your face glowed and your hair cascaded down your shoulders, he remembered you, and your smile.

Why did it have to be now that he would remember you, yearn for you, after all these years of painful acceptance? Why did it have to be now that he would be overwhelmed by the questions of what if?

He couldn't explain it. The thought that was being pushed through the forefront of his mind, the light buzzing and banging. Like something was screaming at him to do something, and getting louder and louder. 

He looked across the crowd, the opposing team having called for a timeout. He looked across the cheer squad and large drums. The banging ringing in his ears louder than ever, maybe he was just going crazy?

But with the sinking feeling that he was getting closer to something, he let the moment of insanity slide for now. He kept looking, scanning every face that came into view. That maybe there was something— someone he needed to see.

And then he saw you. Your eyes shining, face glowing, hair cascading down your shoulders, everything. He saw you, and you saw him. Your mouth coming up and forming that smile he loved so much. You always smiled at him so perfectly, but more than that, you were here, cheering for him. 

He ignored the strange looks his coaches and teammates were giving him. He was aware that they probably thought he was going through it, because maybe he was. He just couldn't believe it. You were right there.

He then heard the familiar whistle blow across the gym. And he was momentarily knocked out of his daze. He sent you one last look, and ignored all his questions, when, why, and how you were here was something he could deal with at another time. Because when he finally stepped back onto the court, he was stepping in for you. 

For all the moments you had, and all the moments you didn't. For all the words that had been said and the words that could have. He stepped in for you, for the girl that stole his heart all those years ago. He stepped in for the two of you and what could have been. 

scene eight; all alone

The gymnasium fell silent as the game came to its end. The court divided with mixed emotions of celebration and loss. Ushijima looked at you from the crowd, smiling reassuringly at him. He felt relieved.

Leaving the gym, Ushijima headed back to where he placed his gym bag. Jogging idly towards it, he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. 

He sat down inside the bus, utterly exhausted. The match had taken its toll on every player, and Ushijima was no exception to its physical and mental turmoil. He let out a prompt sigh.

The bus was surprisingly quiet, given that Tendou was inside, but he guessed even an eccentric like him had his limits, and he couldn't fault him for that. He instead took this moment of tranquility to organize his feelings. 

He saw you again. After almost three years of distance, you were finally back.

He unzipped his gym bag and found his hands enclosing around a box. He took it out and examined it like he had many times before. Carefully opening it, he stared as the light from outside shined onto the silver of the necklace, from the clasp to the feather pendant that hung upon it. It was still in perfect shape, from all the times Ushijima dreamed of giving it to you one day. And that chance had finally come, three years later. 

He let his mind wander to the moments he wanted to share with you, the words he wanted to say. He wondered what it was like for you all these years if you were happy and experienced precious memories just like he did. There was so much he wanted to know, wanted to ask. 

So much he wanted to make up for. 

He sighed and leaned back into his seat. You didn't even notify him that you were coming back, it was all so sudden. Were you going to attend high school in Japan? Which school? 

He was going to graduate soon, just like three years ago. The term was almost over, and the school was already accepting new students. There was a possibility, but one he was reluctant in letting himself believe in or more or less hope for. He wondered if he was just getting his hopes up. 

He wondered about all the options, all the possibilities. Did you just come back to watch that one game? Did he already miss his shot as soon as he got the chance? 

He massaged his forehead briskly and decided to sleep on it. He was too tired to think too deeply about anything at the moment. If he really wanted to know, he would just have to find you and ask you himself. And maybe then he would be able to tell you he was in love with you.

And find out that you were in love with him too. 

scene nine; you were beautiful

Ushijima walked through the crowd of people occupying the hallway. It was louder than usual, the students already making plans for summer break with the term almost at its end. 

He was on his way to practice, but that was until a figure started walking by his side. He first paid no mind to it and kept walking, only sneaking a glance and seeing— you.

He stopped.

          "Hey," you said to him, smiling. "It's been a while."

          "Yeah," was all he could say.

          "It was a good game," you said. "Yesterday."

          "We lost."

          "Yeah."

There was a long pause.

          "I'm a student here now," you said, looking at him. "Though I came in pretty late."

          "Yeah," he replied as you kept walking.

          "How have you been these past few years?" 

          "Playing volleyball," he replied promptly.

          "I see," you replied.

The tension was killing him. His eyes focused in front of him and refusing to look towards you. He couldn't look at you.

Maybe it was just all the years catching up to him, or the sight of you after so long messing with his brain. He couldn't know. All the memories that flooded him, the feelings that overwhelmed him, it was too much for even him to handle. He couldn't take it.

Back when the dimly lit light flickered above the both of you on that narrow alleyway, the moon high above in the night sky. 

You were so beautiful.

Your eyes that looked at him, your voice that called out to him, your smile that was always directed towards him. Everything, everything about you was everything to him. 

He looked at you finally.

          "Why did you leave?" he asked you. The one question that had been eating at him all this time for the past three years.

All this time of yearning for you to come back, and now that you were finally here, eyes the same color, hair slightly shorter, smile just as bright as it always was. He wanted so many things, but nothing more at the same time. He didn't want anything else but for you to stay in his presence, beside him like how it was always supposed to be. He didn't want anything more.

All his ambitions and questions could be left unrewarded and unanswered. He just wanted back the moments only you could give him. Everything that passed, everything that was missed, he wanted it more than anything. He clenched his fist inside his uniform pocket tightly.

          "My mom got a new job," you said. "I'm sorry I never fully explained."

          "It's okay."

He started walking again, and so did you.

          "Would you like to attend my graduation ceremony?" he asked you.

          "I'd love to," you replied, looking forward.

He didn't cry when you walked away. Back then, when everything so simple suddenly became complicated. 

Back when the tears he saw leave your eyes were turned into anger in his refusal to believe that you had parted on such sad terms. He thought that maybe it would be easier to move on when his last memory of you looked at him in anger. That maybe, he could erase the tears from his mind and have you hate him instead. He realized that it was all just sad foolishness.

He remembered— accepted the fact that what happened was nobody's fault. That both your hearts had shattered, and it was no one's fault. 

You were both making your way closer to the end of the hallway, the crowds of people disappearing slightly, the space feeling less cramped. He could feel you looking at him, your eyes focused on his profile. This was a normal thing between the two of you, but three years had passed, and he had no idea how much he had missed these simple habits. 

He missed all the moments that seemed mundane to him back then, when you would walk beside him, look at him, play volleyball with him, no matter how bad you were. He missed all of it, he missed—.

          "I missed you," you said.

He looked at you and paused.

          "Thank you," he said back.

You smiled.

It was these mundane moments that made you so beautiful. Back then, even when the tears stained your face, you still looked beautiful. When your eyes, for what he thought was the last time, looked at him. When your voice spoke out to him, back then, when no matter how hard he tried, you still seemed to slowly become a movie of the past. No matter the moment, no matter the circumstance, you looked so beautiful.

But it was these mundane moments that made him fall in love with you even more.

He clutched the necklace in his pocket even tighter.

Both of you finally stopped at the end of the long corridor. Both of you on your way to do club work, but in the opposite direction. You both wanted to laugh, it all seemed like some kind of fate, but even then, you decided to smile it away.

He brought out his hand from his pocket, still holding the silver necklace. He hesitated, but looked at you anyway.

He reached his hand out to you, the chain hanging from his fingers. You took one look at it, then looked into his eyes. The eyes you could read so well, looked at you like he wanted to convey so much but nothing else at the same time. 

You hugged him. You hugged him tightly. His hands wrapped around you gently. Enclosing you into his personal bubble, for all the people left in the hallway to see.

          "Thank you," was all you decided to say.

          "I missed you," he said. And it was all he needed to say back.

You parted from him, your hand carefully taking the necklace from his, the light from the window beside the two of you shining on it, making it sparkle. 

He started walking the other way, and so did you. But he stopped and turned around, and so did you. 

He looked at your eyes, the smallest shine playing on his own. 

          "Don't let it break this time," he said.

And you smiled once again.

          "I won't," you said. 

scene ten; i loved you

The hall was loud and happy, filled with celebration and melancholy as the students of Ushijima's batch graduated, some parting ways and some making plans to stay. 

He looked at the audience that clapped for them and saw you. A small smile played on his lips as a bright one was proudly displayed on your own. 

He looked around him and at his teammates, proud that they had come this far together, smiles on their faces like everyone else.  

After thanking each of them one by one, he looked back at you, who smiled and flicked your head towards the exit. He nodded and started following you, leaving the graduation hall. 

          "Where exactly are we going?" he asked.

          "You'll see," you showed him your smile, and he couldn't refuse you.

You grabbed his hand as you started walking faster along the endless hallway, and soon enough, you were both standing in front of the indoor swimming pool. You both made your way inside and turned on the lights.

          "One day, I'm gonna become the captain," you said as you crossed your arms proudly. Ushijima nodded seriously.

          "I'm sure you can," he said, and you smiled at him.

You took his hand and dragged him towards the edge of the pool, eliciting a confused look on Ushijima's face.

          "Can I be a tad bit cheesy?" you asked, looking into his eyes. Your back was facing the pool as you stood on the edge, Ushijima standing in front of you.

          "What do you mean?" he asked, but your arms already made their way around his neck.

You smiled at him cheekily and leaned back into the pool, causing both of you to crash into it. Your bodies started sinking into the pool, Ushijima's eyes slightly wider from shock while you continued to look at him from underwater.

Your heads eventually shot out of the water, clothes wet and hair damp. You started laughing. 

          "I've always wanted to do that!" you laughed louder as you looked at Ushijima's dumbfounded face. He clearly was not expecting what just happened.

Seeing him so unusually expressive made you want to tease him even more, like the Toshi you knew from all those years back.

You swiftly ran your hand across the surface of the water, splashing him in the face as you giggled even more. Toshi looked at you in slight shock, yet a small smile played underneath his stoic features. He brought his hand up and splashed water right back at you, making you squeal and swim backward, laughing.

You didn't know how much time had passed with you splashing water at each other, how long you two had lapped around the pool trying to catch each other, laughing, and enjoying each other's presence. 

You looked at him, who had a rare smile on his face, and realized just how much you yearned for this moment. His eyes that stared back into you, and your heartbeat that started beating faster than before, you realized just how much the memories with him meant to you. You used to be content with looking back at the memories you had created all those years ago, but now it was different. Both of you were different. 

It wasn't enough anymore to reminisce about past memories. You wanted, needed to make more, with him.

Even with the thought that he would once again be swept away by the many opportunities that awaited him, but even then, you still felt happy. He was on his way to accomplishing so many great things that you couldn't help but look at him, his hair wet and uniform ruined, yet he still looked happy, with you in this moment.

You started swimming towards him, eyes never once leaving his. The water around you flowing against your body softly as it almost pushed you towards him. You giggled as you got closer.

You were now in front of him, hands on his shoulders and eyes staring in his. You smiled softly at him.

          "Take a deep breath," you said, and before he knew it, your hands covered his ears as you pushed both of your heads underwater.

The water engulfed the two of you as it's serene hum blinded your senses. You looked into his eyes that stared back at you, and his hands that made its way to cover your own ears. 

It was like you were back in the ocean with him when you were still children, but it was also so different. 

You were both grown now, with feelings that had developed over time, or maybe they were always there. 

You stared into his eyes as he did the same, lips inching closer and closer. You smiled brightly at him one last time before you kissed him gently. You pulled away and rested your forehead against his until Toshi brought his face closer and pecked your lips again. 

You had no idea how long the both of you had held your breaths underwater, but you had no plans to find out. With your lips moving softly against one another, and your bodies held in a tranquil state under the swimming pool water, you couldn't care less.

The two of you in each other's arms, hands covering ears, and hearts falling deeper in love. 

Just the two of you, in that moment, with no other forces pulling you apart.

[3d-wifey]

The Academy ❧ Part 1

Pairing: Reader x Multiple

Synopsis: Given the chance to rewrite your life for the better, how could you say no? Of course, it helps that the ones presenting this gift are crazy hot.

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: Nothing yet.

A/N: If this feels hastily thrown together, that's because it is. It does help that Reader's relationship with the boys is meant to feel rushed tho. So, the lack of relationship building between the three seems intentional 😋. Reader's personality switch-up is also intentional. I promise the quality will get better after this. Happy reading!

You liked coffee shops. One would argue a little too much. You were like an addict and you typically got your fix at Komori's Delights.

You liked coffee shops, solely, because of the people. You would sit at the same corner booth you've been sitting at for the past five years and listen in on their conversations like a creep.

You led a pretty basic life. Once you turned sixteen, the adoption agency helped you get an apartment. And then, when you turned eighteen, a job in customer service. Yet, since it mainly involved doing online chat services from home, you rarely interacted with anyone. With no family that you knew of, you were pretty socially isolated. And you weren't doing too well on the friends front either.

People didn't exactly line up to hang out with quirkless orphans. Loneliness stuck to you like a shadow.

The only thing you honestly looked forward to when you opened your eyes was hearing about other people's lives. You could admit to yourself that it was pathetic.

It was just something about watching "normal" people interacting with each other. Their stories, their conversations, how they responded to and handled everyday situations. All of it, all of them, thrumming with life. A simple passion you dreamed of having, but sadly, didn't possess.

You were able to quench a burning thirst within yourself just by watching them. Living through them. At first, you wondered what that thirst was. What did you gain from being around other people that you couldn't achieve in solitude?

It took you a few years to figure it out. You spent many restless nights in your cold twin bed at the group homes, then in the equally cold queen bed at your apartment, trying to understand what you were missing.

You were around seventeen at the time and a fresh-faced graduate. Instead of going to any of the graduation parties that many of your former classmates were throwing, you were sitting at your booth. The same one that protected you from the cold fall winds and overlooked the entire shop.

Two women were arguing in the corner about something or other. The conversation didn't seem interesting enough to listen in on until the shorter of the two shouted something.

"Nobody had seen you in over ten hours. We were all scared something had happened. I was scared something had happened."

You vaguely remember them hugging and making up after that. It seemed strange to you at the time that someone could be so worried about another person. You never really found yourself worrying about anyone. Especially not to the extent of being scared for their well-being.

It occurred to you later that night. With just three sentences, you had your answer. You wanted some type of connection. To be seen. You wanted to be somewhere where people would know your name, know your face, notice if you weren't there. You wanted to be wanted. Something to tie you to humanity.

Now, here you were three years later. In the same weathered leather booth, working the same reclusive job, still hungering for that connection. Nothing had changed in your life.

You wrapped your hands around the mug and brought it closer to your chest, sighing at the heat it provided. The smell of cocoa and cinnamon wafted under your nose, making you relax further into the booth. You had mainly ordered the hot chocolate to warm your cold fingers, but it did pair well with the sugar cookies that came with it.

The temperature had dropped faster this year with the coming of winter and you were oftentimes reminded of how lucky you were to even have a home to escape the cold in.

With the winter winds, came the mass of people who sought out the café to hide from the chilliness outside. Now, Komori's wasn't what you would call exceedingly popular, so it rarely saw the same person more than once.

But, over the past five days, two people came to the shop roughly around the same time every day. They usually came with four or five others, but it was never the same people. The only constants with the groups were the two men.

And what men they were.

They carried themselves completely differently; the only thing they had in common was being absurdly attractive. The first one was tall and built like a football player, with big blue eyes, bright hair, and an even brighter smile.

It was obvious he had many admirers if the way his friends hung onto his every word was anything to go by. Based on how often he steered the conversation, you could tell he was a natural-born leader with charisma to match. His allure was sunny and encompassing, but carefree.

The shorter male was just as handsome, but his appeal was subtle compared to the blond one. You wouldn't notice if you just glanced at him, but you got the feeling that that was a conscious decision on his part. He didn't seem the type to like attention, going through great efforts not to be seen.

He typically didn't add much to their conversations unless he was reining his partner in. Messy, indigo bangs casted a shadow over his nervous eyes and long, pointed ears twitched whenever his group got too loud. He had a swimmer's body, but, again, you wouldn't notice unless you stared at him long enough. And you've done a lot of staring.

You sighed again, taking a sip from your mug. It was completely on-brand for you to over-analyze some random men. You looked over to one of the circle booths across the room. They were here again. The two men and five more strangers. Well, they were all strangers to you, but for some reason, you felt like you knew them, at least a little.

Maybe because you had been listening in on their conversations for practically a week, but, that was neither here nor there.

You had lost all interest in anybody else that came in; all of your attention was focused on them and them alone. You would wait hours at a time for them to come in with new people and watch as they talked. Their conversations always pulled you in. Especially when they talked about a place called Yuuei.

The blond one would talk animatedly about the place to the others to the point where they got excited too. It happened every time with every group.

You had gone home with your curiosity peeked the first time you heard them mention it. You spent the entire night hunched over your laptop, scrounging the internet—again, like a creep—for anything relating to Yuuei.

You looked everywhere, but it couldn't be found. It wasn't on any maps. There were no Google links about it. As far as you could tell, it wasn't some kind of slang or anything. The only mention of it was on a Reddit conspiracy theory thread about a cult that shared the same name. You tallied your loses and suspected that it was just some type of club and the two of them were probably recruiting new members. And, technically, you were right.

You were brought back to the present when the hairs on your arms and neck stood up. But the shop door hadn't been opened and there was no breeze inside the café. You weren't cold.

Your gaze swept over the expanse of the shop; eyes, not so subtly, hopping from table to table. Finding nothing but people locked in conversation, until you glanced at the circle booth. Narrowed (E/C) eyes met bright blue. Instead of becoming embarrassed at getting caught and looking away, like most people did, the blond held your gaze and grinned.

He smiled at you.

Not a condescending smile; not an angry borderline-sneer; not even a half awkward half fearful kind of smile that you often got from strangers after you stared at them a little too long. Just a warm upturn of lips that felt like open arms welcoming you back home.

You looked away in hopes that it would be the end of the interaction, but not before seeing the blond elbow his friend and gesture over to you. All while still wearing the same smile on his face.

You stared down at the light brown liquid in your mug, telling yourself the steam wafting up from the hot chocolate was the reason your face was so warm. Yeah, that's why. That's the only thing that made sense.

Every other sound blurred in the background until the only thing you could hear were twin footfalls. Confident footsteps leading the way with reluctant ones following close behind. Getting steadily closer and closer. Each step a metronome to your ears. Were they coming towards you?

The muscles in your arms flinched with every sound of shoes hitting the linoleum floor.

Step, step, step, until—

"Hi! I'm Mirio. And this here is my buddy, Tamaki." He introduced, reaching a scarred hand out towards you, probably expecting you to shake it. You stared up at them with wide eyes, dumbfounded at the turn of events. No one in this café had ever approached you before, not even the staff. His voice was accented, which was surprising considering you never heard it when he was talking before. Maybe it was just hard to pick up on from across the room.

You weren't sure what prompted them to come up to you and if you took a glance over their shoulder, you could see that the people they were with seemed just as confused as you. Not wanting to appear rude, you paused before reaching out and shaking his hand. His palm was rough from the buildup of calluses, and It dwarfed your own. It was warm.

"I'm...Y/n." You introduced yourself cautiously, watching them as they moved to sit down in front of you. Tamaki on the inside, Mirio on the outside. You wondered if it was normal for him to just walk up to a person he didn't know and strike up a conversation like an old friend.

"We saw you sitting by yourself—"

Jesus, how sad of a picture did you make that they felt the need to come over just to end your suffering?

"—and came over to see if you wanted to join us." You? Join them? Honestly, you would love to sit with them and finally be included in the conversation instead of just listening to it from the outside. But, something told you that the feeling wasn't mutual.

You glanced back to their booth to find their friends staring at you. Or, at least they were before they noticed you looking at them. Diverting their gaze before you could meet any of their eyes head-on.

You knew if you sat with them, all you would end up with were judgmental glares and badly concealed whispers about you. How fun.

"No pressure, of course!" Mirio was quick to assure, taking your silence as unwillingness. And his assumption would be right.

"I, uh, don't think I'd fit in with your friends." He looked at you with a confused tilt of his head, resembling a puppy who didn't know what you were saying to it.

"Oh, I mean them," You gestured to the group of five people talking amongst themselves and sneaking occasional glances your way, "plus the other people you guys usually come in with."

Although the statement sounded innocent to you, you couldn't help but feel like you fucked up somehow. Their faces didn't change, but there was something about the way Mirio's hands twitched and Tamaki's shoulders tensed that made you feel...uneasy. Paranoia creeping up on you like phantom hands.

"Other people, huh," Mirio paused before giving you a boyish grin, "So, you were watching us." He said not unlike a lawyer who just caught the defendant red-handed. You could feel your heartbeat pick up as he leaned over the table towards you, hands laced together, but your face remained blank. Despite his playful tone, the glint in his eyes made you feel like you were being trialed for murder.

It struck you then just how creepy that might sound to them. You probably seemed like some kind of stalker. A weirdo that's been watching their every move for the past five days, which, of course, you were. He had every right to be suspicious of you.

"Mirio, ease off of her." Tamaki interrupted, face practically buried in the wall. That was the first time you heard him speak, and, God, were you thankful for his timing. It sounded like he had the same accent as Mirio, but, for the life of you, you still couldn't place it.

"Heh, I'm just goofing." He laughed, big blue eyes colored with mirth as he leaned back from you in favor of picking up one of your cookies. But his relaxed posture felt too tense for that to truly be how he felt. It seemed forced.

"Anyway, I wouldn't really call them friends. Just people we've met in passing while we visited. Do you...know any of them?"

You leaned back, unconsciously mirroring him. Your nails tapped against the table to the beat of the music playing softly over the speakers as you took your time quietly examining the two men before you. Your brain ran over the people they brought into the shop. Dozens upon dozens of faces and none of them were familiar.

"No, I can't say I do."

There was a moment of silence before any of you talked.

"Um, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you're a pretty intimidating girl." He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. Blond strands falling out of his ponytail to frame his face. You held in a sigh. He wasn't the first person to tell you that and he probably wouldn't be the last.

You weren't sure what it was about your appearance that everyone found so daunting; it could be how hard you stared at people. Or how silent you were. Maybe you had a resting bitch face, but you couldn't be sure, since nobody was ever brave enough to tell you. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't doing you any favors.

"Is that why he's so quiet?" You joked humorlessly, peeking at the man to your right—Tamaki, you reminded yourself—to find him already looking at you. Piercing purple-blue eyes made the hairs on your neck stand straight as he stared at you without turning away from the white walls. It threw you off to see he was staring at you so intently, considering you didn't think he was even paying attention to the conversation.

"Oh, you mean Tamaki? He's just a little shy around new people. Ain't that right, bud?" He elbowed his friend a little sharply.

"Uh, y-yeah."

"So, where are you guys from?" Your gaze shifted between them, yet again changing the conversation.

You focused on the twinge of pain coming from your finger as you picked at the skin around your nail, a nervous habit you took up when you were a child. It was how you developed such a good poker face. Keeping your emotions off your face and instead directing them to the poor skin of your nail beds.

"Is it that obvious we aren't from around here?" The blond—Mirio—joked, putting his on the back of the booth behind Tamaki's head.

"Your accents kind of gave you away." You joked back. It felt nice to do that. To have someone to joke with.

"Okay, well...It's a little...town called Yuuei," when you perked up, they shared a quick glance before Mirio continued, "It's really small, so you've probably never heard of it. We're actually heading back pretty soon."

"What's it like there? It's still in Japan, right? I assume it is, considering you both speak Japanese like it's your native language," you tried to reign in your excitement, but the prospect of getting some kind of information on this place was too much to pass up, "Do you have any pictures I could se—"

"She's really pretty. Don't you think, Tamaki?" he cut you off, asking the other boy like you weren't just talking, "Sorry if that was random." He laughed. You weren't an expert on social cues, but something about his smile made you think he wasn't really sorry.

You froze and you glanced over at Tamaki with wide eyes, finding he looked more embarrassed than you felt. You kept your face perfectly blank, hopefully not giving away how off-guard that caught you.

"Yeah," he agreed sheepishly, slouching in on himself, "She is." He sounded certain in his answer, which struck you as curious considering how unsure he seemed about literally everything. Almost like it wasn't his first time saying it. For some reason, you couldn't see Tamaki going around complimenting random people like a playboy.

Mirio? Sure.

But, Tamaki? Not so much.

"Oh...thank you." You mumbled, rubbing the tip of your nose and picking at the faded blue fabric of your scarf. You prayed the booth would open up like a Venus flytrap and swallow you whole. You were just rambling a mile a minute to two guys you just met. Was that his way of polity telling you to shut up?

Not only that, but you were at your wits' end here. The conversation kept changing so quickly, touching on topics you had no idea how to navigate. You felt way out of your element.

How sad was it that getting complimented was where your mind drew the line?

"You're welcome, Sunshine." He pointed down to your scarf, cookie still in hand, answering the unasked question in your furrowed brows, "Your scarf. Really cute, by the way." You looked down at the offending cloth wrapped around your neck.

A baby blue woolen scarf with little patterned suns grinning and wearing big green sunglasses. You hadn't really thought much of it when you grabbed it on your way out of the apartment this morning, but here you were wearing a children's scarf in front of two of the hottest guys you've ever seen in your life. They say hindsight was 20/20, but you'd say it was just a bitch.

The fact that they didn't answer your questions didn't go unnoticed, but maybe it was deemed inappropriate in their culture to ask someone about that kind of stuff if you weren't close. You decided to drop it, not wanting to give the impression that you were disrespectful, but kept it at the back of your mind.

___

You still had no clue why it happened, but this...arrangement continued longer than you thought it would. You didn't really know what to call it, but, whatever it was went on every day for the next couple of months. You would wait at your booth, they would come in with new people, talk with them for a little, and then split off to come talk to you.

You know you shouldn't have, but you felt kind of special knowing that they wanted to come spend time with you. You didn't comment on how fast you guys were moving. Choosing to, instead, push the uncertain feeling to the back of your mind.

It was becoming an unwelcome habit.

You didn't bring up the subject of their home again, weary of another awkward conversational lapse on your part. You often felt that creeping uneasiness come up whenever you turned the spotlight on them. You were just trying to make the small talk that you often saw in other people's conversations, but Mirio's eyes would always develop a certain...look and even poor Tamaki would tense up with every question. You decided it was better not to push for information about them at all.

That was your second mistake.

While you didn't ask them much, they seemed to want to know everything about you. They—mainly Mirio—asked you probing question after probing question about your life. About your job, where you lived, who you lived with, if you had any family, etc. The constant stream of questioning seemed odd to you, but you were more than happy to bask in the attention like a lovestruck teenager talking to her crushes.

That's how they made you feel.

Maybe you were just excited to finally partake in those conversations you watched everyone else have. To finally have people want to listen to what you had to say. Frantic to form a connection, no matter how weak the foundation was. The red flags were obvious, but desperation tended to make you colorblind.

You were very hesitant to inform them about your complete lack of quirk at first. You've seen how people react to that and you weren't too eager to lose the only people that could be considered your friends. However, it couldn't be hidden from them forever. Especially, since both of them were so quirk oriented.

They, surprisingly, reacted better than you expected when you told them. In fact, they almost seemed happy.

After you told them that, they wouldn't stop talking about Yuuei. Even Tamaki would jump in on the conversation to tell you things about their home. Alternating between demonstrating their quirks and explaining the wonder that was Yuuei.

It made you apprehensive to be around people with such powerful quirks. It always had, especially in high school. You hadn't known them for long, but you were sure they wouldn't hurt you.

They strived to be pretty accommodating to your anxiousness, which no one had ever done before. And, like a stupid puppy, you were getting attached to their kindness. They and their compassion were like a balm to that scorching thirst that you endured for the past twenty years.

In the short two months you knew them, they had somehow become a solid fixture. They had dug out a divot in your life and laid in it like they've always belonged there. It got to the point where you would call in sick to work just to stay with them a little longer.

Your fall from grace wasn't instantaneous. It happened gradually; inch by beautiful inch. You started falling the moment they came to sit with you. No, the moment they walked into the café was your first step towards oblivion. You were plunging to your demise and you only had yourself to blame. You allowed them a permanent room in your life, despite knowing their stay was temporary.

You're confident they had no idea how important they were to you. Nevertheless, no matter how sorry it sounded, you grew dependent on them. They plagued your thoughts like a disease: that brief period you experience between sleep and consciousness filled with thoughts of them, the moments of long silence at home were spent thinking about your boys, and even when you were with them, ironically, you couldn't stop thinking about them.

How did Mirio get all those scars? I wonder if Tamaki is eating enough? Where were they staying in the city?

You actively worried about them for some reason that was completely lost on you. You were so used to them being there, you weren't even sure how you used to live without them.

"We leave this Sunday."

Turns out you were gonna find out sooner than expected.

"S-so soon?" You choked out, setting your mug down. He had caught you so off guard that you started choking on your hot chocolate. After calming down and assuring them that you weren't dying, you were able to think.

You knew they were just visiting and they'd have to leave eventually. But, for some inane reason, you thought you'd have more time. More time to prepare. More time to...more time with them.

They had walked into the shop by themselves and headed straight for your booth like they had just been drafted for war, which set off emergency lights in your brain. You should have known they were delivering bad news.

"We've actually been here way longer than we were supposed to." Mirio laughed, scratching the back of his head.

"They had to call us back this time," Tamaki's soft-spoken voice imputed, but it seemed like he was talking to himself, "They've never had to call us back before."

"Called back? By who?" You looked between them expectantly.

"Uh, by our leaders. It's a small place, you know? So everyone is basically family. It only makes sense that they'd be worried about us taking too long." The blond explained, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the cold.

So, they were leaving because they were told to? Their leaders had that much sway over their lives?

"Couldn't you guys just...stay a little longer?" Now you were begging them to stay. But what else could you do? By the way they were talking, you could safely assume that they wouldn't be visiting you any time soon.

Mirio frowned, placing his big hand on top of yours. Big blue eyes a lot duller than usual. No matter how hard you looked you couldn't find that spark they typically had.

"I-Sunshine," he sighed, like a man passive to his fate, "it doesn't work like that. We have to go home."

You looked over at Tamaki who was already facing you, a huge improvement from when you first met. His head was down and if his pointed ears could droop like a sad puppy, you're sure they would. They didn't want to leave you just as much as you wanted them to stay.

There was no music playing in the shop to fill the silence between the three of you and the shop lacked the usual chatter. Seems like your earlier comparison had some truth to it. They may not be heading off to war, but they were still saying goodbye like they were. Like you'd never see them again. You felt lucky you even had the luxury of saying goodbye.

The sound of your heart beating against your ribs flooded your ears. Realistically, you knew they couldn't have drastically changed your life in a little over two months.

You could feel saliva collect in your mouth as your stomach gurgled ominously. Before them, every day you would wake up, work, go to the coffee shop, and go home without truly being awake. It felt like you were sleepwalking through your entire life. Living, but never alive. Never really there.

No one to see you. No one to hear you. You were nothing more than a ghost.

Your chest burned and your throat tightened. You couldn't go back to that. You'd be alone again. You couldn't be alone again.

You took a deep breath and schooled your expression, but you were sure that Mirio felt you shaking under his hand.

"What am I—" you swallowed the lump in your throat, "—What am I supposed to do now?" You whispered. But, who were you even asking: them or yourself? They were leaving your life just as fast as they came into it.

Mirio was quick to stand up and the leather booth squeaked under him as he slid into the seat beside you. The weight of his arm was comforting and heavy on your shoulders. His pointer finger and thumb closed in around your chin, turning you to face him.

"I don't..." His voice drifted off when he met your eyes, his lips twitching downwards into a frown. You could see the gears turning in his head before he nodded to himself. An internal conflict coming to an end. Something filled his eyes as he searched your face. It wasn't the spark that you were used to seeing, but a fire.

"Come with us."

Tamaki's head shot up, anxious indigo eyes looking between you before saying, "M-Mirio, are you sure she should come? She, um," his right hand moved to grip his left arm, "our culture is pretty different. S-she might not be able to...adjust."

"That won't be a problem. I'll look after her."

"That's what I'm worried about." He whispered loud enough for you to still hear, but the blond didn't seem deterred. He never looked away from you.

Mirio called you, pulling your attention back to him. You were pretty sure this was the first time you've heard him say your name.

"Look, Yuuie is...it's filled with people like you—like us," he gestured between the three of you, "A lot of people were looking for the same things you are and they found them in Yuuie." Every thing he said was filled with unwavering certainty, an unavoidable conviction that seeped into your bones. It was clear he honestly believed every word.

The conversation was moving too fast for you to fully understand what he was saying. One second, you're on the verge of a panic attack, and the next, you're being persuaded to run away with them? Crazy enough, you were actually considering it. It seemed like such a simple solution.

"You wanna be seen, right? Admired? Understood?—"

Were you that obvious?

"—Well, there's no better place to be seen than at Yuuie! Our leaders strive to provide a place where every single person is appreciated for their contributions. There's always new people coming along. People who desperately needed a home—a guiding hand. Right, Tamaki?"

"Yeah, I guess." Tamaki agreed with a resigned shrug of his shoulders, eyes downcast.

"See? I'm sure everyone there will love you! What do you have to lose?"

What did you have to lose? Your minimum wage job? Your one-room apartment? Your complete and utter lack of companionship?

If you did go with them, what would happen? You never really believed in all of that mumbo-jumbo about fate, but this seemed destined. Every solution to your problems is wrapped up in one big bow laid out in front of you. How could you say no?

So you didn't.

"Okay," you picked at your fingertips under the table, "I'll go with you." The corners of his lips twitched upwards before spreading into a grin. Thin lips moving to show off pearly whites. Even Tamaki looked happy, if not a little reluctant.

And at that moment, as they gazed at you like you were the only thing lighting their way, you never felt more sure of anything in your life.

"I swear you won't regret it, Sunshine.

___

You regretted agreeing to this. No matter how much you liked them, you never should have said yes. This whole thing had felt off-putting since you left.

If you were being truly honest with yourself, something didn't feel quite right since you met those two. Ever since the first time they walked into Komori's Delights, you knew there was something about them that caught your attention.

You originally thought it was because they were new and exciting...and hot. But, it was clear that from the start, your subconscious could tell something was off. Too bad you didn't listen to it.

The fact that Mirio and Tamaki came to pick you up was more than a little surprising, considering they didn't tell you they were coming beforehand.

Instead of taking an Uber, like you anticipated, they both were very insistent on taking the bus. Not one for needless confrontation, you agreed. You figured they knew more about this kind of thing than you did anyway. And they paid for the bus fare, so you couldn't complain.

The bus drove you about an hour out of the city before Mirio requested to get off; another thing that struck you as weird, but you didn't say anything. The three of you walked to a secluded point in the rode that led to an opening in the tree line. Well, you couldn't really call it secluded considering all the people gathered there.

The sheer amount of people waiting for you had stopped you in your tracks. Logically, you knew it was stupid to think there wouldn't be others coming with you, but a small part of you had hoped that you were the only one they were taking home with them.

Your hands gripped the straps of your backpack, sharp nails digging into taut leather. The weight loosening as you adjusted them on your shoulders. The trek so far had been strenuous. Your right ankle hurt from getting it twisted in a hole and mosquitoes were everywhere. Putting the physical strain traveling like this had on your body aside; the girl next to you had been talking your ear off nonstop.

You were all for making friends, but there should be a time and place to start talking about your fucking life story. And, considering your shoes were wet with mud and the humidity of the forest made your shirt cling to you like a second skin, now definitely wasn't the time. You didn't understand how someone could be so chatty in your current situation.

"—you quirkless too?"

"What?" Your neck snapped towards her so fast that if you were any quicker, you could have given yourself whiplash. What did she say?

"What? Are you deaf or something? I asked if you were quirkless too. As in, do you have a quirk or not?" You let the childish jab slide and focused on digesting the sentence. The grass tickled your throbbing ankle as you worked to keep pace with her long strides.

"You're quirkless?"

"Not just me. Every person I talked to is quirkless and I'm pretty sure I talked to, like, everyone here." Your eyes sharply swept over the group, keeping a headcount as you went.

If one out of one hundred people in Japan are quirkless, what were the odds that over twenty of them were gathered in the same place?

"Hey, it's supposed to be winter, right?"

"Yeah." You agreed absently, more focused on trying to get a glimpse of Mirio's blond hair at the front of the group or Tamaki's indigo hair somewhere at the back. You needed to talk to one of them. You needed to know what the hell was going on.

"So why the hell is it so hot?" She asked, pulling her brown hair into a low hanging ponytail. Her roots soaked with sweat, a true testament to the sweltering heat.

"I don't know." You stopped in your tracks, acutely aware of the people passing you, but remaining still. A rock thrown in the middle of a lake, but the stream still flowing nonetheless.

Too many things were happening for them to be a coincidence. You weren't a mathematician, but even you could see that the parts of this equation did not add up. Mirio and Tamaki showing up at your apartment, the number of people without quirks gathered in one spot, and the muggy heat in the forest combined to form a sizeable pit in your stomach.

It was a mistake to come here.

"Y/n? What are you talking about?"

Tamaki's quiet voice startled you out of your thoughts. You hadn't realized you were talking out loud; you hoped he hadn't heard much. You didn't even hear him approaching. His lithe frame stopped beside you as you readjusted your grip on your backpack.

Perhaps you were overreacting; Just being paranoid. And, if something actually was wrong, it wouldn't be wise to tell him about your concerns. Either of them, a small part of your brain whispered. Probably the logical part. For now, you'll keep your suspicions close to your chest. You started forward with a limp towards everyone else, Tamaki close behind you.

"Y-you shouldn't stray too far from the rest of the group. Are you hurt?"

"Um, my ankle is sore and it's only going to get worse the more I walk on it," you looked over the treetops as you walked by them. No birds. No squirrels. Nothing, "Which brings up a question: How long until we get to Yuuei?"

You watched him stumble over his words before answering.

"I-uh, I'm not really sure. But it...shouldn't take too long now," you watched from the corner of your eye as he pulled a plastic baggy full of small baked balls out of his backpack, "Here, it's takoyaki."

You paused.

"What do you want me to do with it?"

"We've been out here for a while, I-I thought you might have been hungry," a flush settled on the apples of his cheeks as he stared at the ground, "You don't have to eat it, o-of course. I was just worried about you."

Worried about you? You stared down at the small ball of dough and meat he placed in your hand and waited. You half expected him to tell you what he wanted in return for the food, but he didn't. You were quick to accept, alonst forgetting to say thanks in your haste, especially considering he was right about one thing.

You were starving. It felt like you hadn't eaten all day, which couldn't be right since the sun was still where it was when you began to walk. You could just chalk it up to the incredible heat and humidity in the forest. And your job definitely didn't make you the most athletic person, so you got tired easily.

"Why aren't you up front with Mirio?"

"I have to stay back here to make sure nobody gets...lost," his shoulders hunched as he pulled out more takoyaki, "Besides, I-I don't really like being front and center like Mirio. I'm not brave enough to lead people." It was just a hunch, but you got the feeling that this was about more than just your current situation. His words were weighted like they had some type of double meaning behind them.

Sure, Tamaki wasn't the most confident guy you met. And, yeah, he could barely get through a conversation with a little old lady without chickening out. But, you were able to read people; you were so good at it that it was basically your quirk.

"Brave? I think bravery is relative. Each person is brave on their own terms," the group's chatter became louder as you got closer, "You left your hometown for the first time and came to the city, right? Don't you think that's brave?"

"No," his voice was so soft you could barely hear him, "not really."

"Hmm," you finally bit into the ball of bread and octopus, "You shouldn't try to measure yourself based off of other people's limits. I think you're brave enough as you are." You could feel his gaze trail over the side of your face like he was trying to use his eyes to crack you open. You decisively decided to ignore it.

"Thank you, y/n."

___

With the help of Tamaki, you were finally able to find Mirio. Actually, once you pushed through the throng of people it wasn't exactly hard to find his broad figure. That's another thing you noticed about him; just how much he stood out. Even Tamaki, who tried his hardest to blend into the shadows, easily grabbed attention. Demanding the focus of any room they walked into, if not with mere presence alone.

Despite that, they weren't what you were thinking about. The temperature was high and the morale was low. The group's overall excitement had dimmed considerably since you started traveling and there were more than a few people grumbling and whining. But, really, who could blame them?

The sun bore down on all of you with an oppressing heat and it was only getting hotter. The air was heavy with the evaporated rain, making it feel more like you were wading through an impossibly deep pool instead of hiking through a forest. Every step you took felt weighed down as if the air had wrapped itself around every limb like a heavy blanket.

You weren't the only one feeling the effects of the journey. You picked up bits and pieces of conversation as you walked, more like limped, next to Mirio. Protests from the group grew louder the longer you went. Surrounded by heat and with no break in sight, the crowd got antsy.

"It's so hot—"

"...long are we gonna keep walki—"

"All the trees look...same."

"—we're in a forest, dumbass."

"You know what I mean, man! I swear...passed this one before."

You were running on fumes yourself, but they didn't see you complaining. You dragged your eyes over to Mirio. Fluffy, golden hair bounced in its ponytail with every step as he marched forward. The sun set a glow on his peachy skin, but there wasn't a single drop of sweat on him. Considering he lived here his whole life, you assumed he probably was just used to the crazy heat. He kept his eyes forward with a placid smile on his face. If he was bothered by the groups growing grievances, he definitely didn't show it.

You stumbled until your shoulder hit the nearest tree, bark scratching harshly against your sweaty skin, but your ankle throbbed so sharply that you didn't even care. It was so hot. You brought a shaking hand up to wipe at your forehead. You all were walking for so long, but it felt like the sun's rays only got more intense.

"Okay, I think that's enough. You're pushing yourself way too hard. You're practically dead on your feet," he put his backpack on his chest and squatted down in front of you, "Hop on, Sunshine."

Your eyes widened. Was he serious?

"Wouldn't it make more sense to take a break? I'm sure I'm not the only person tired here." You panted, growing conscious of the eyes on you.

"If we stop now, we won't make it before nightfall. Come on. I'm not getting up until you get on. Just think of me as your noble steed." He smiled at you like he had no clue how embarrassing he was.

It was a thoughtful gesture. He had offered to let you get on his back earlier when he saw you stumbling around, but you declined, which proved to be a dumb decision on your part. And the thought of walking on your bum ankle anymore made you queasy, even now it throbbed despite you resting.

You gave a quick glance sideways at the group and, of course, they were all staring, staring, staring with their judgy little eyes. You guys hadn't even been out here that long and they somehow formed a group that you clearly weren't welcomed in.

You sighed.

There was no use being unnecessarily difficult. You were holding up the group as it was, and you had a feeling that he actually wouldn't get up unless you got on his back.

So you buried your pride and hobbled over to him. His big hands grabbed the bottom of your thighs and hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You weren't sure where to put your arms and just draped them over his shoulders.

His cool skin worked wonders for the extreme heat you were feeling that you couldn't help but cling to his back further. Was it inappropriate? Probably. And your clammy skin was likely getting sweat all over him. Did you care? Not at all.

However, you couldn't help but think of yourself as an annoyance. Sure, everyone else was complaining, but they were still on their own two feet. And here you were, forcing Mirio to carry you in his back because you couldn't handle the journey when he was probably just as tired as you.

"Hey, you wanna hear a joke?," he suddenly asked, pulling you out of your thoughts, "What did the man with two left eyes and two right eyes tell his doctor? He had double vision! Ha!" He laughed, a little too proud of his joke. Maybe it was because of how he said it completely out of nowhere or because of how utterly stupid it was, but it made you smile.

Then Mirio beamed at you from over his shoulder and his vivid blue eyes seemed like they shined even brighter when you chuckled at his corny joke.

Did he tell you a joke in hopes that you'd relax?

"If you thought that was funny, there's tons more where that came from. Heh, I really have my mentor to thank for this A+ material. Now, what do you call somebody with nobody and no nose?"

But you didn't hear the punchline as the heat and the vibration of Mirio's voice swayed you into a restless sleep.

Voices shouting, shouting all around you. Intense heat. Being carried through a dark purple cloud and then...nothing.

___

When you awoke, you were still on Mirio's back, but you weren't in the forest anymore. Instead, all you saw was a wall. Your eyes lazily swept over the great expanse of cement, muscles straining as your neck craned towards the sky. The sunlight hit your eyes, blurring your vision as you tried to see the top. The wall was taller than any of the buildings you saw in the city.

Was this another dream? Had to be. But it felt so real. Too real.

You tried to climb off of Mirio's back, but your body felt like it was being weighed down by the air alone. And Mirio's tightening grip definitely didn't help. You could barely keep your eyes open as you blearily looked around, but you couldn't make out anything but shapes.

"Don't worry, Sunshine. Just go ahead and rest those pretty, little eyes. I'll take care of you."

"M...irio...wh—" You could hardly keep your eyes open enough to finish your sentence. Darkness seizing your vision as Mirio's movements lulled you back to sleep. Your hearing was the last thing to go.

"How long did this group last, Sir?"

"Two days."

"A whole two days?! Pretty impressive, all things considered. Right, Sir?"

"Yes, Mirio..."

[ificanthaveu]

Broadway Baby || Shawn Mendes

Description: You have known Shawn Mendes for nine years. And he has been a pain in your ass the entire time. NYC isn’t big enough for the two of you, and your hometown certainly isn’t either. (aka broadway!Shawn)

A/N: I thought of this au out of nowhere and I was like wait a minute....that could be really good. SO here we are! And I think it is pretty good! And yes the Jordan I mention a few times is Jordan Fischer. I am a whore for that man. ALSO just a disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about the technicality or broadway or new york or anything so plz just pretend thank you

Word Count: 7.6k

Maybe going to your high school’s five-year reunion at some dive bar two hours away from where you currently lived and down the street from your old high school could have been the worst place to be on a Saturday night in May. 

You whisked the wine in your glass around as you watched it arch up the glass, threatening to spill out with each turn. The light above you flickered every few moments, and you couldn’t tell if the reason for your forming headache was the wine or the light or the fact that you were at your reunion. Or maybe all three. 

You leaned against a table with two people from your homeroom, both of them going on and on about their current fifth year of college they were finishing up. One was in a sorority and the other was the president of his frat. You could’ve seen that coming from your freshman year of high school. 

You occasionally chimed in every few moments just to look interested because you really didn’t have anyone else to talk to. You’d gotten here just a little too early since you had to take the drive and overestimated how long it actually took. Everyone who was eager for the reunion was here. Which meant everyone you did not want to see. 

Your friends planned on coming later, and in reality, you should have just stopped at their house before coming but last minute decided against it. You didn’t really see your high school friends as often as you once thought you would. But life got in the way. While everyone else tended to stay in the small town, you were one of the few who made it out to New York City just two hours away. You had a great job, you bought a house and had a dog. It couldn’t get much better for you. 

So, why you thought you would want to relive your high school days for a night? You still don’t know what you were thinking. 

“[Y/N]?” Eli said from next to you as you blinked a few times before looking at him. 

“How’s the big city?” He said with his smile that actually was too white. 

“Good! Really good!” You said with a smile before you took a sip, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. 

“Do you ever run into Shawn?” Kelly asked from the other side of you. 

The name itself sent shivers down your spine. Not good ones. 

“Nope,” you said with a pop in your “p” as you downed your glass. 

“You guys were so close in high school,” Eli said. 

You held back a laugh as you glanced back over at him, “No, we weren’t.”

“Well you were the leads in all the musicals together,” Eli replied. 

“That means we were forced to act like we liked each other onstage. We were good actors. That’s why we were the leads,” you tried to say as casually as possible without making it obvious that your blood was boiling. 

“Could have fooled me,” Kelly taunted as she sipped at her drink.

You stifled an eye roll as you thought about what the best time would be to sneak away and get more wine. 

“Speak of the devil,” Eli said as you followed his eyes across the room. 

Your eyes briefly met with Shawn’s as he sauntered into the bar with more confidence than he should be allowed to have. 

You heard Kelly sigh from next to you as she rested her head on her hand. 

You could throw up. 

By the time you looked up again, he was walking right towards you. 

So, now was the right time to get another glass. 

You turned around and waved the bartender down for some wine and then thought maybe two glasses was a better idea but didn’t want to look as trashy as you felt right now being in the same room as Shawn again. 

By the time you turned around with your wine, Shawn was deep in conversation with Eli as Kelly lovingly listened in. 

You took a quick scan of the room, praying there could be someone else you could talk to. Most of the people you really didn’t care for or barely remembered. You spotted a few football players you had known since Kindergarten and hadn’t seen in a while. 

You were about to cross the room to them when you heard Eli say, “[Y/N]’s right here.”

Shawn looked up and smirked as his eyes met yours. There goes your escape. 

You smiled sweetly as you made your way back in between Eli and Kelly and a comfortable distance from Shawn. 

“Hi, Shawn.”

“[Y/N], good to see you,” he said, the damn smirk not leaving his face. 

“You too,” you mumbled from the rim of your glass. 

“Heard you’re over at Samson Management now? You know Jordan?”

You nodded your head and leaned on the table again, “Yeah, I work with Jordan pretty often. He’s fantastic.”

Shawn looked over to Kelly, turning on his charm as he said, “Jordan’s the lead right now in the musical I’m in.”

It took every ounce of you to not roll your eyes and say something snarky. 

“You mean the musical you’re an understudy for?”

It didn’t work.

Shawn cocked an eyebrow at you and his smile faltered as you foiled his face he was putting up for everyone. 

“Yes, [Y/N], that would be the one,” he said slowly. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled.

“Anyway, I’m in Dear Evan Hansen, and Jordan plays Evan right now. We’re pretty good friends, and he’s managed by the company [Y/N] interns for,” he said simply. 

“I’m not an intern,” you said calmly. 

“You were.”

“When I was in college, now I’m a junior manager,” you said, your grip on your glass getting dangerously harder. 

“Hm, whoops,” he said before taking a drink of his beer. 

You could cut the tension with a knife as Eli and Kelly shared looks. 

“Who are you managed by again, Shawn?” You asked. 

If looks could kill, you’d be dead. 

“I’m in between managers.”

“Isn’t that what people say when they were fired from a job? That they’re in-between jobs?” You said with a quiet laugh. 

You could practically see the steam threatening to spill from Shawn’s ears. 

“Things weren’t working out,” he said carefully. 

“I’m going to go say hi to Andy,” Kelly said quietly as she backed away. 

“Me too,” Eli said as he did the same. 

You were in a staredown with Shawn as they both almost sprinted away. 

“Want anything from the bar, [Y/N]? Or still nursing your third glass?” He taunted as he walked past you to the bar behind you. 

“Not my third.”

“Sorry, second,” he said with a smile as he turned around. 

You shook your head and bit your lip harshly. 

“Just upset I’m spoiling your whole facade?” You said, leaning against the bar next to him. “A simple google search could have spoiled it anyway.”

“Sorry we’re not all perfect,” he said, not looking at you. 

“Yeah, real bummer,” you said before pushing yourself off the bar and making your way across the room to the people you meant to see earlier. 

Andy scooped you up into a big hug as you finally approached him, rocking you back and forth. 

“Heard you were being snarky across the room?” He whispered in your ear before pulling away and giving you the same look he’d been giving to you since Kindergarten. 

“Some things never change,” you said as you sat down next to him. 

“No one really likes him anyway, just think they do because they think he might be famous one day,” he said. 

“He won’t be,” you said. “We run in relatively the same circle with my office managing a lot of the people he performs with. He won’t go anywhere with that attitude.”

“Nothing’s changed,” he mumbled. 

“Not at all.”

You watched Shawn sweet-talk one of the old cheerleaders from across the room, probably raving about his latest performance where he was a background character for one whole scene but making it sound so much better. 

“I’m still shocked nothing ever happened between the two of you,” Andy suggested. 

You shot your head to the side to look at him. 

“I can’t be with him for more than a minute without a fight starting,” you reminded him. 

“That tension, I’m telling you,” he said quietly. 

“You are unbelievable,” you said through a laugh. 

Before he could respond, Shawn was walking to the group you were currently in. 

“Don’t be mean,” Andy warned. 

“You know I can’t promise that,” you whispered back. 

“Our own broadway baby!” One of the girls yelled as Shawn hugged one of the guys. 

You scoffed as Andy shot you a warning look before waving at Shawn. 

Shawn returned the wave and walked closer. 

(ITALICS) Here we go again. 

“Good to see you, man,” Shawn said as he shook his hand. 

“You, too,” Andy said as sweet as ever. 

“You still live around here?” Shawn asked. 

“No, I actually live in Chicago now,” Andy said. 

“That’s great,” Shawn said, being nicer than usual. 

“Yeah, how’s the big city?” Andy returned the question. 

“Really great,” Shawn said before taking a drink. “I keep pretty busy.”

“So I hear,” Andy said with a nod. 

You took another drink as you watched the interaction between the two of them. Andy knew how much you didn’t like Shawn, but the two still always got along pretty well. While you were always the first person he greeted after the musical, Shawn was the second. You tried not to let it make your blood boil. But that’s just how Andy was. He loved everyone and everyone loved him. 

“Hey, [Y/N], heard a bunch of people from Samson’s are coming to the show next week?” Shawn questioned.

“Yes, we are,” you said casually. 

“We? As in you’re going?” Shawn pried. 

“Well, I do work with Jordan fairly often, so yes, I will be going,” you said softly. 

“Great,” he said through a toothy smile. 

“Fantastic,” you said as you mirrored his look. 

Before the conversation could turn bad, Shawn got distracted and walked away. 

Andy let out a breath before taking a drink, “I have a feeling you don’t actually feel fantastic about it.”

“As long as I don’t see him, we’ll be just fine,” you said, leaning your elbow on the table.

“I feel like that’s jinxing yourself,” Andy said slowly. 

“Well, I’ve said it over fifty times since we decided we were going, so this time would be no different. If it was jinxed, it was jinxed over a month ago,” you said, finishing your glass. 

“I wish you luck,” he said. 

“Thanks,” you said as you squeezed his arm before standing up to go to your friends who just walked in. 

You could see Sophie eyeing Shawn from a mile away. 

“Soph?” You questioned as she snapped out of it and looked at you. “What are you looking at?”

“I’m not saying that out loud,” she replied. 

“Good idea,” you said back. 

“You have to admit, he looks good,” she said simply. 

“You know I would never admit that even if I did believe it.”

The few of you made your way around a table with a few other people you did the musicals with and talked about the great times you had as you had another glass of wine and started to feel it hit, along with everyone else. 

You were laughing at someone’s story about a performance gone wrong before you realized Shawn was there. You couldn’t even tell when he got there but it wasn’t bothering you nearly as much as you thought it would. 

When he wasn’t trying to impress everyone around him, he wasn’t bad at all to be around, but when his ego took over and all he wanted to do was make people think he was something he wasn’t, you wanted to kill him. 

“Remember when [Y/N] bit Shawn’s lip?” Sophie reminded everyone. 

Shawn threw his head back in laughter as you shook your head and looked down. 

“I still have a scar!” Shawn yelled from across the table as he pointed at you. 

“I’m sorry!” You yelled back through a laugh. “If you would’ve done the moves we practiced, it wouldn’t have happened!”

“You bit through his lip!” someone said. 

“Not on purpose!” You said through a laugh. 

Shawn shook his head as the group calmed down, “I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, believe it. The last thing I wanted to do was have to drive you to the emergency room on a Friday night,” you said. 

“And you stayed with me the whole time,” he said as he rested his hand on his chest. “I’m touched.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you reminded him. 

“I would never,” he said with a smirk. 

“Someone do karaoke!” Someone else yelled as they pointed at two people getting off the stage. 

Your eyes met Shawn’s from across the table as you both nodded and walked towards the stage, not even having to say the song which you found early on was both your default karaoke song. It was always a duet between the two of you at your cast parties. 

Bruises by Train started playing as people turned and cheered to see the duo up on stage. 

Shawn started singing the first verse as you bopped your head to the familiar tune. 

You cut in with your part as you looked at him, and he looked back at you. 

You felt like you were back on stage with him, playing the part and acting like you could kiss him when this was all said and done. He joined in with you for the chorus as the two of you stood fairly close, looking at each other as you belted the chorus. 

You stood side by side for the next part, your shoulders brushing as you pointed at people as you sang “have you seen him?”

You casually changed “Johnny B” to “Andy T” as Andy hollered from the back of the bar and Shawn laughed through his half of the line. 

You went back into the chorus as you looked at him again, spreading your arms and feeling like you were on the big stage all over again. You didn’t realize how much you missed it. 

You sang the lines of the bridge softly as Shawn did the same, his eyes not leaving yours. You looked at Shawn in ways you hadn’t since the final night senior year, reminding everyone watching why the two of you were always the stars.

Before you could register it, the song was done and you were standing inches from Shawn as everyone cheered. 

“Guess you still got it,” Shawn said with a small smile. 

“Guess you do, too,” you said back, not even wanting to be snarky anymore. 

You both walked back to your table, this time Shawn standing next to you as you laughed with your friends. 

You glanced at the time just to see it was 1:00 am as people were leaving. 

“Shit,” you mumbled as you went to call an Uber since you clearly couldn’t drive. 

You looked around just to see that Sophie and your other friends had left. Andy was gone, too, and you were running out of options. 

You planned on not really drinking and just driving back to the city tonight, but that was no longer an option. 

“You good?” You heard from behind you. 

You turned to see Shawn with his hands tucked in his pockets. 

“I was going to drive back tonight,” you mumbled. 

“That’s not happening anymore.”

“Yeah, I know,” you scoffed. “I’ll just call my parents.”

“Come on, I got a hotel. You can stay with me,” Shawn said as he started walking away. 

“Aren’t you drunk?” You said as you watched him. 

He turned around and shook his head, “I had one beer nearly six hours ago.”

“Oh, ok,” you said as you followed him to his car.

You drove in silence to a hotel a few blocks away, feeling your buzz quickly wear off. 

You followed him in and up to his room. He let you in in front of him as you made your way to the bed in the corner and plopped down on it. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said to the ceiling. 

“I know,” he sighed as he sat on the edge of your bed. “We can pick up your car in the morning.”

“Thanks,” you said as you turned on your side to look at him.

“I’m sorry about before,” you said softly. “I got carried away with the digs.”

He nodded his head and leaned back so his head was next to yours, “I deserved it.”

You turned to look at him better, noticing his jawline as he spoke. 

“I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing having to come to your reunion as an understudy,” he said softly. 

“It’s still Broadway,” you reminded him. “You’re twenty-two. You have plenty of time to ace the lead.”

“Thanks,” he said as he also turned to look at you. 

Your faces were dangerously close as you watched his eyes flick towards your lips and you inched closer. 

Before you could rethink it, Shawn was on top of you and his tongue was in your mouth. 

Every insult you had hurled before were forgotten as he deepened the kiss and moved you up the bed, his hand caressing your back underneath your shirt and getting dangerously close to your bra. 

This was not something you ever did in the musicals.

You woke up the next morning, slightly startled as you looked around at your surroundings. 

And then seeing the sleeping figure next to you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as you remembered doing things you never imagined doing the night before. 

You noticed you were wearing his shirt and tried not to groan as you slowly got out of the bed to find your clothes. You threw them back on and called an Uber as you slipped on your heels and tiptoed to the door, grabbing your purse and sneaking out. 

You sat in the back of the Uber and cursed everything you could as you made your way to the bar again. 

You hopped out of the car and into your own as you rested your head on your steering wheel and banged it against it a few times for good measure. 

Your headache began to sink in as you prayed you wouldn’t have to throw up on your two-hour drive back home. 

You finally started your car and put the nearest McDonalds into your maps before pulling out. 

You could’ve screamed when Bruises played through your speakers. 

—

Your pounding headache didn’t go away the next few days, and it certainly wasn’t just from your hangover. 

Monday was a whole new obstacle as half your coworkers asked about your reunion and the other half wanted to talk about the show on Friday. 

Your head was pounding, and your coffee wasn’t cutting it anymore. You rested your head in your hands for a moment to breathe before you went to grab lunch.

Your phone rang before you even had that moment. 

“Yes?” You said simply.

“You have a visitor. He’ll be waiting in the commons,” the receptionist said before hanging up. 

Your heart leaped into your throat before you tried to swallow it down. You took a shaky breath before grabbing your bag and walking downstairs, a little too terrified to see who was waiting for you downstairs. 

Seeing Andy waiting there was the best thing to happen to you in the past week. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you walked up to him and gave him a quick hug. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked with a smile. 

“My flight leaves out of JFK in a few hours, so I thought we could grab lunch first,” he said as you began to walk out of the building. 

“Perfect. The place next door is great,” you said as you felt the first joy you’d felt since Saturday night. 

“I also have to ask you something,” he said slowly. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled as you pushed the door open to the cafe, and he followed behind you.

“Where did you go Saturday night? After the reunion?”

Your heart went right back into your throat as you didn’t look at him and instead focused on the menu on the wall. 

“Back here. I got back super late,” you said as you begged your voice not to falter. 

“Really? Because I saw your car there Sunday morning,” he said. 

You knew you couldn’t prolong it, so you finally looked at him as he looked at you with a blank stare and raised eyebrows. 

“I went to Sophie’s,” you tried. 

“Sophie left before I did,” he said quietly. “And she left with Eli.”

You didn’t respond and instead stepped up to order your usual. You could hear Andy sigh as you recited your order. 

You stepped to the side and let him order before grabbing a table in a secluded corner.

He sat his number down on the table before sitting across from you and leaning forward on the table, giving you another look. 

“We’ll do this again. Where did you go Saturday night?” He asked. 

You sighed as your shoulders slumped. 

“I stayed with Shawn,” you whispered. “He offered, and I didn’t have many other options.”

“I knew it,” he said in his typical, “I told you so” voice he’d been using on you for years. 

“Don’t even say anything. I’m not proud of it,” you mumbled as they set your food in front of you. 

“[Y/N], come on. You know I’d never say anything mean about it,” he reminded you. 

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you said as you started to pick at your food. “No one knows.”

“So I’m guessing that means you did more than just sleep wherever he was staying?” He pried. 

“If I don’t say it out loud, it never happened,” you said before taking a sip. 

“Oh my God,” he mumbled. 

“You said you wouldn’t say anything,” you groaned. 

“I won’t. I won’t,” he said before he sighed. “I just want to say that I told you so, and I saw this coming from a mile away.”

“Ok, I get it,” you said through a laugh. 

“I mean I literally said it probably hours before you did it,” he reminded you again. 

“Yes, ok, anyway, when does your flight leave?” You said, trying to derail the conversation. 

“4:00 pm, but anyway, who came on to who?” He continued. 

“I’m not answering any questions,” you said, taking bites of your food as he thought of more questions to ask. 

“Fine,” he sighed, finally eating. 

“But he definitely came on to me.”

“I knew it.”

— 

You kept busy the next week on your latest project, and you managed to forget about the past weekend...until Friday came up faster than expected. 

You hated to admit it, but you bought a new outfit for the show, one that you know would make Shawn drool in the off chance you did see him.

During the day you were in and out of meetings, barely having time to even sit down in your office. When you finally had a chance, one of the interns leaned in. 

“Ross was looking for you before, but he just told me to tell you that Jordan won’t be on tonight,” she said. 

“What?” you said a little louder than planned. 

“Yeah, I think he said he has strep throat,” she explained before walking away. 

You took a deep breath and ran your hands through your hair. 

This could’ve been your worst nightmare.

You took your time getting ready after work as the chances you would see Shawn increased with each passing moment in the past week. 

You met your coworkers outside the venue an hour before the show and found Ross to grab your ticket. 

“Someone told you right?” Ross said as he handed it to you. 

“Yeah, Jordan’s out,” you said through a sigh. 

“And that Shawn Mendes will be on,” he said as he looked at the altered program. “Know anything about him?”

“Well,” you paused and wondered if you should tell the truth or lie through your teeth. “I actually went to high school with him.”

Ross’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you. “Tell me everything. I hear he’s looking for new management.”

You bit your tongue as your group walked into the theater and tried to think this through. 

“He’s insanely talented. We starred in most of the musicals together, and he manages to have chemistry with anyone he’s onstage with, which I hope you’ll see tonight. He’s got a good heart, but I think it’s hard for him to show it sometimes. This is all he’s ever wanted to do, and he shows it in everything he does,” you explained as you found your seats. 

“He sounds like a good guy,” Ross offered. 

“Yeah,” you paused. “He is.”

“What musicals did the two of you do together?” He continued. 

“Um, wow, we did The Last Five Years, High School Musical, Footloose and Hairspray,” you remembered. 

“So why did he go and do this while you went into management?” 

“He had the confidence I could never get,” you said as your voice shook just the slightest.

“You’re confident.”

“I wasn’t in high school,” you explained. “Shawn had enough for the two of us. Sure, I would’ve loved to do this,” you gestured to the stage. “But Shawn knew he was going to do this. There was a big difference.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he said with a nod. “And you settled for management.”

“I wouldn’t say settled. This is my dream job,” you said through a small laugh. “I wanted college and stability. I needed it. Shawn was always really good at being spontaneous which was definitely something I could’ve learned from.”

“You speak pretty highly of him,” Ross pointed out. 

You paused for a moment and ran through the conversation you just had in your head. You didn’t realize how many nice things you had to say about him. 

“Yeah,” you said before pausing. “He’s a really good guy. We didn’t always get off on the right foot, but when it came down to it, we made a good duo.”

“Well, if this show goes well, I just might have to have a conversation with him afterward. Care to join me? Introduce me to him?” Ross questioned as he looked at you. 

You swallowed hard before nodding your head, “Of course.”

The lights dimmed before Ross could say anything more than “Great.”

You took a deep breath and released it slowly as Shawn walked on to the stage. You were nervous for him, you being the only one who knew the weight of this performance, what Samson Management could do for him. 

You’d never even seen him perform except from the wings of a stage while you did a quick change or quickly rehearsed lines with someone in the stage crew. Before tonight, all you ever got were glimpses of the person he became when he walked on stage. 

And he was amazing at it. 

He had the whole crowd on the edge of their seats as he sang “Waving Through a Window.” You did everything in your power to make sure no one saw you wipe the tear escape your eye. 

You never would’ve been able to tell that this was Shawn’s first time performing this part. He had the whole audience laughing when they needed to be laughing and crying when they needed to be crying. You felt your heart follow his journey as you saw Shawn genuinely thrive. 

It was intermission before you knew it, and you took a moment in the bathroom to fix your makeup that may have ran down your cheek a little. 

By the time you got back to your seat, Ross was jotting down quick notes. 

“So, what do you think?” You asked. 

“He really is something else,” he said with a big smile. “We definitely have to talk after.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as the lights dimmed again and the musical continued. 

By the time the show was done, your mascara needed fixing again and your chest hurt. You ducked into the bathroom again before meeting Ross to introduce him to Shawn. 

You showed your credentials to the stage manager as you walked ahead of Ross to find the door with Shawn’s name on it. You took a deep breath before knocking slightly and hearing a muffled “come in.”

You creaked the door open to watch Shawn turn around to see you. 

“[Y/N],” he said just above a whisper as his face fell. 

Before he could say anything else, you opened up the door more to show Ross with you. Shawn’s immediately put on a different face as he stood up. 

“Shawn, this is Ross Thompson, senior manager at Samson Management. Ross, this is Shawn Mendes, Clinton’s own Broadway baby,” you said with a smile as the two shook hands before Shawn nervously stuffed his in his pockets and glanced over at you. 

“You were amazing,” Ross started. “And we would love to meet with you sometime, over at Samson.”

“Really? That would be amazing,” Shawn said with a smile. 

Ross handed him his card before saying, “Email me Monday morning about what times work best for you within this next week, and we’ll set up a time where the three of us can talk.” He said as he gestured at you, and you nodded your head. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to talking more,” Shawn said as he shook Ross’s hand again. 

“We’ll see you then,” Ross said as the both of you turned toward the door. 

“[Y/N]?” You heard him say as you both turned around. “Can I steal you for a minute?”

You swallowed hard before nodding over at Ross.

“I’ll meet you guys at Ellen’s,” you said with a soft smile before Ross waved goodbye and walked out. 

You shut the door behind him before you leaned against it and looked at Shawn. 

“I have about a million things to say, and I don’t know which one to start with,” he said a little too quickly. 

“Yeah, I figured.”

“What did you say?” He paused. “That made him want to talk with me?”

“Well, he asked about you and was so excited to hear that we went to high school together, so I told him everything I could,” you said quietly. 

“Which was?” He pried. 

“Um,” you faltered. “I said that we starred in the musicals together…”

“And?” He cut you off. 

“And that you’re amazing at what you do. That you were born to be doing this, and it shows when you walk onstage. That you have a good heart, but sometimes have a hard time showing it. That we didn’t always get off on the right foot, but at the end of it all, we made a really good duo,” you said, trying to look anywhere but his eyes that seemed to be piercing into yours. 

“You mean that?”

You could hear the strain in his voice. 

“Of course I do,” you said through an exhale. “Look at you, Shawn. You just walked out on that stage like you’ve been playing this role your whole life. You had that whole audience convinced you were the actual Evan Hansen when that person doesn’t even exist.”

A moment of silence surrounded the two of you. You stared just past Shawn at the table scattered with his things, focusing on an open foundation bottle instead of him. 

“So you liked it?” He finally said. 

“I loved it,” you said quietly. “I’ve never actually gotten to see perform from an audience before. It was breathtaking.”

“Thanks,” he said almost under his breath. 

It went quiet again, and you uncomfortably switched from one foot to the other as the tension filled the room like so many times before. Except for all different reasons. 

“So why’d you leave?” He finally asked as his hands flew up with frustration. 

Your body slumped as you sighed and sat on the arm of the chair right next to the door. 

“Please don’t do this, Shawn,” you begged as you looked at the floor. 

“No, I’m doing this. Why did you leave? I’m not just some guy you met at a bar, [Y/N]. I thought you had a little more respect for me than that,” he said, the frustration in his voice evident. 

“Because you’re you,” you started. “You’re a pain in my ass and have been for the past nine years. I’ve had to watch you captivate the stage with this natural flair that only you could pull off, and I never could. Seeing you on Saturday was like being on stage as a freshman as Gabriella all over again, and I was staring at Troy, who had the confidence of ten people, showing this whole world what he can do, and I can’t. I couldn’t just let myself live in whatever fake world we made up Saturday night just to regret it Sunday morning.”

“Why are you saying this? It’s been five years since we last sang together, but it felt like yesterday when I looked at you doing that note change you always did when we sang that song. Whenever I perform with you, I forget that you’re you. I forget that you hate my guts half the time and the other half of the time you’re tolerating it because you have to,” he said, frustration evident in his voice. “You can’t make up excuses anymore, [Y/N]. What happened Saturday was not some performance. We’re not in high school. And even if we were, you are still just as amazing as a performer as you think I am, but you’re still stuck in this mindset that you were just put there by default.”

“Do you know how hard it is to perform with you when everyone who encounters you falls in love with you?” You almost yelled as you stood up, and Shawn stepped back. “I had to, and still have to, work twice as hard as you to get half of the recognition you did. We were never equals. I didn’t hate you, Shawn. I could never hate you because of how you made me feel like I was everything when we were on stage together. I have tried every night for the past nine years to forget the way my stomach would flip when you sang to me, and right when I thought I could, I was right back to it because of that fucking reunion.”

“Then why did you leave?” He finally yelled. “I thought I had finally figured you out, finally figured out how I could get you to be mine, and by the time I woke up, you were gone and probably halfway to New York. Why won’t you just accept that there was always something here, but you were too scared to ever admit it because of what other people thought of me?”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have anything to say. 

“I have been chasing after you for nine years, and I’m just starting to think that I just can’t do it anymore,” he said quietly as he sat down on the couch opposite of you with his hand on his forehead. 

You watched the way he rubbed his forehead as he caught his breath, the way his body slumped as he let out everything he’d always wanted to say. 

“When I woke up on Sunday, I couldn’t get out of my head that I was just there because I was convenient for the night. That I wasn’t what you actually wanted,” you said slowly. “I didn’t realize there was something more.”

He sighed and looked up at you.

“But by the time I got back here, I knew I shouldn’t have left. I made that mistake, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with the consequences of it. Whenever I’m with you, I just get caught back in this old mindset that you’re always going to be better than me, and that’s a real blow to the ego, but it’s all in my head,” you said. 

He didn’t say anything as you finished your thoughts. 

“That’s all I have left to say,” you said after a moment.

“Then I think you should go,” you said just above a whisper. 

“Shawn…” you started. 

“I’ve had enough for one night. Please just go.”

So you did.

—

The following week was just as painful as the one before as you awaited the meeting you would eventually have to sit through with just Ross and Shawn. The calendar notification popped up Monday morning, so you knew Shawn called him as soon as he possibly could to set this up. You had a brief meeting with Ross on Thursday morning, and Shawn was planned to join you shortly after. 

You walked with Ross to one of the rooms on the first floor to go over some notes before meeting Shawn. He pulled up his laptop and let out a sigh. 

“I need you to be honest with me about how you feel about Shawn,” Ross said. 

“Ok,” you said carefully. 

“Because I asked around and the things I’ve heard have been exactly 50/50. People either love him or hate him. I can’t afford to have a hated man on our team,” Ross explained. “So I need the real story.”

You took a deep breath and stared at your own computer screen before looking up at him. 

“I have known Shawn since I was 14. The first time I met him was a chemistry read for High School Musical. I had heard about him. I had heard…not the greatest things about him. That he had a big ego and knew he was good and wasn’t afraid to flaunt it. So, I went into that chemistry read with this horrible idea of him in my head. And I held on to it for a lot longer than I’d like to admit. But every day I spent with him on the stage, that chipped away more and more,” you said. 

“What I said on Friday, about him knowing this is what he was meant to do, is completely true. People often take that the wrong way. I took that the wrong way. I wasted years hating him when he was just passionate about what he did. Once you realize that, he is genuinely one of the most amazing performers you will ever work with and just as amazing of a person,” you finished. 

Ross nodded his head as he leaned back in his chair, crossing an ankle over a knee as he bit the end of his pen. 

“I trust you,” he said after a moment. 

Before you could say anything else, Ross’s laptop dinged to notify him that Shawn was here. 

“You want to go get him?” Ross offered. 

You nodded your head and walked out of the room and down the long hallway to see Shawn waiting at the end of it by the receptionist’s desk. 

“Shawn,” you said with a head nod towards the hallway. 

He didn’t say anything and followed you down the hallway. 

Before you went in, Shawn stopped a few feet away from the door. You turned around and looked at him. 

“This is make or break for me,” he said. 

“I know.”

“What do you think it’s going to be?” He asked. 

You sighed and leaned against the wall. 

“Despite what has happened, I have done everything I possibly can at this point. I believe in you, Shawn, and I’ve done everything I can to get Ross to feel that same way,” you explained. 

“You mean that?”

“Every word.”

You didn’t allow him time to respond as you opened the door and let him in in front of you. His nerves seemed to evaporate away as he shook Ross’s hand and took a seat across from the two of you. 

Ross sighed as he sat down before he said, “I’ll cut right to it.”

Shawn simply nodded his head. 

“We would love for you to join our team,” he said. 

You watched Shawn relax, and it took everything in you not to jump up. 

“Thank you so much, sir. You won’t regret it,” Shawn said with a smile that could light up the entire city. 

“I know,” Ross said with a head nod. “You’re lucky you have someone as great as [Y/N] in your life. She did a really good job of talking you up.”

Shawn looked at you as your eyes widened at Ross’s blatant statement. 

“Yeah,” Shawn said, still looking at you. “I am.”

The meeting went relatively quickly as preliminary paperwork was filled out and the basics were gone over. The looks Shawn gave you didn’t go unnoticed as you explained the necessary policies. 

“Well, Shawn, that’s all we have for you today,” Ross said as he stacked up some papers and set them on top of his laptop. “You’ll be working mostly with me and [Y/N], but for the majority of the time it’ll just be [Y/N],” he said as he gestured to you. 

You nodded your head as Shawn looked at you again and nodded along. 

“You have my number, but call this number if it’s during work hours,” you said as you handed him your card. “I check my email constantly, so you’ll also be able to reach me quickly there if I’m in a meeting.”

“Got it,” he said as he placed your card with the other papers stacked in his arms. 

“We look forward to working with you,” Ross said as he gestured forward. “I’ll have [Y/N] walk you out,” 

You and Shawn walked out the door and down the hallway towards the front door as tension surrounded you two again. 

“Can I see you this weekend?” Shawn said quickly as you reached the front door. 

Without saying anything, you pushed him out the front door, and you followed behind him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“No, no, just the receptionist is nosey,” you said with a head shake. “Ross doesn’t care.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Anyway…” you offered. 

“Right, I just think we need to talk,” he said as he impatiently fiddled with his thumbs. 

“What’s there left to say, Shawn?” You asked as you crossed your arms as an unexpected breeze blew by. “We both said what we needed to last weekend. I got you your management team. What else do you want?”

“I don’t just want you because of a management team,” Shawn said with hurt in his voice. “And I did not think you’d be the one I’d work with if they brought me on here.”

“We want to keep you with people you know-“

“That doesn’t matter right now. [Y/N], what I’m trying to say is I want to see you. I want to take you on a damn date because I’ve wanted to since I was 14 and heard you sing ‘Breaking Free,’” he said, sounding out of breath, rarely seeing him so vulnerable.

You felt the smile tug at your lips as you tried to keep a straight face. 

“We do still have a lot to talk about,” you said. 

“A shit ton, but it would be a lot easier to do that over a drink, and when I know you feel the same way I do about you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile before you said, “Of course, I want to get a drink with you. As a date.”

“Thank, God,” he said as his body slumped and his breath left him. 

“I told Ross about how I truly felt about you. That that big ego I thought you had was just passion for what you did, and I realize that now. And I’m sorry I couldn’t do it sooner,” you said before pausing. “You’re a good guy, Shawn,” you said simply as you looked up at him. “I don’t think I say that enough, and certainly not to your face.”

“Then say it again,” he said through a small smile. 

“Never.”

He stepped forward, aiming to kiss you but you held your hand up before he did. 

“I’m not going to kiss you outside my office, and I don’t kiss before the first date,” you said with a smirk.

He returned the look as he raised an eyebrow and leaned in to hug you. 

You held on to him tightly as he gripped onto you the same way. You felt his lips graze over your ear. 

“We’ve done a lot more than kiss before our first date.”

You pushed him off and walked towards the door, begging the blush to disappear from your face before you made it back to your office. 

“See you tomorrow? Ed’s on fifth? Pick you up at 6?”

You turned around and looked at him as he started backing away. 

“The Broadway bar? Really?”

“I have a brand,” he said with a shrug and his signature smirk.

You turned to go into the building before leaning out the door to look at him one last time.

“See you then, broadway baby.”

Reblog! Comment! Share! Send me LOVE

taglist (send me an ASK to be added!! )

@haute-shawn​ @havethetimeeofyourlifee​ @mendesficsxbombay​ @c25905​ @fallinallincurls​ @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson​