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mercvry-glow · 2 months ago

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all that gleams (18+)

parings. jack abbot x nurse!reader

summary. everyone seems to be hitting on you tonight, and your husband doesn't seem to appreciate all of the attention you're getting.

warnings. this is 18+ so mdni, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough/jealousy sex, half plot/half porn, sex in the work place, hospital setting, age gap (jack late 40s, reader late 20s to early 30s), reader gets hit on by men who are not jack, non-consensual touching (patient grabs reader), reader has hair, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. where the fuck do I even begin? uhhhh- so many people asked for a sequel to all that glitters and I never thought I'd actually do it but here we are! I absolutely live for their dynamic, and they're softcore rich which is truly the dream. I'm actually really proud of this, especially bc this is my second time writing any form of smut! as always any and all feedback is appreciated and please enjoy!

wc. 4700+

all that glitters

There wasn’t a person in your life who hadn’t told you getting married so young was a mistake. A newly minted nurse with a shiny new degree, a big diamond ring, and a big house in the nicest part of town—people loved to talk. And they did, especially behind your back.

“Too fast,” they said

“Too young.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s getting into.”

But they didn’t know Jack.

He’d been your constant through it all. Through the twelve-hour shifts, the night terrors you both had but didn’t always talk about, the tangled mess of silky bed sheets and plain coffee mornings. He never missed a beat, not with you. He always made sure the front door was locked, that you didn’t forget to eat, that you never had to face a bad day completely alone.

Jack Abbot was your storm and shelter all at once.

Still, some days it felt like you were speaking two different languages. You’d grown up with champagne brunches, sorority sisters, and an Ivy League education on Daddy’s dime. Jack grew up fast though—boots on the ground, blood on his hands, and scars no one could see unless he let them.

His world had edges, and darkness only he could understand.

Yours had comfy throw pillows and a walk-in closet.

Falling for each other had been a whirlwind, but staying in love… that took work.

Especially now.

Lately, every conversation felt like walking on eggshells. He was short with you. Distant. And maybe you were a little more sensitive than usual—he always said you felt deeply, cared too much. Maybe you did miss the way he used to look at you, touch you, talk to you like you were the only person in the room.

Now? Now he was somewhere else—lost in his head, behind some wall you couldn’t climb no matter how hard you tried.

And you still tried.

You showed up to work, same time as him, hair curled, and lip gloss on as usual. Your scrubs were still fitted just right, your badge reel sparkled, and your sneakers matched your pastel compression socks of the day. You were tired, overworked, and emotionally frayed—but damn it, you still tried, for yourself, for him, and most certainly for your patients .

He didn’t even say “Hi,” when you checked in.

Just a curt nod, eyes already scanning a trauma sheet.

Fine. You had a job to do anyway.

The ER was chaotic, as usual. You floated between rooms, upbeat as always, soft-voiced with your patients, making the new interns laugh with your sparkly pens and habit of humming softly under your breath.

That’s when he showed up.

Leo, tall, handsome in a sun-kissed, ex-lifeguard in the Baywatch kind of way, and new. The latest temp nurse from another hospital, and definitely not shy.

“You always this put-together at 7 p.m.?” he said, grinning as he helped you restock the IV cart.

You glanced up from your clipboard, smiling just enough. “Only when there’s new employees to impress.”

He laughed, nudging your elbow. “Well, consider me thoroughly impressed.”

Across the hall, you didn’t see Jack. But he was seeing everything.

You caught a flash of movement in your peripheral vision—him, leaning against the med station, pretending to read a chart. The way his jaw clenched was less than subtle. So was the way he suddenly had something urgent to discuss with Dr. Reese, right behind where you were standing.

You didn’t react. Just went back to scanning meds, asking Leo if he needed help finding anything on his first night. You were being polite. Friendly. Maybe a little intentionally oblivious—but only because it felt good to be noticed by anyone today.

Jack didn’t say a word.

But every time you turned around, he was there. Close. Watching.

He didn’t like it. You could feel it.

And for the first time in weeks, you felt something that wasn’t just disappointment.

You felt giddy.

You weren’t trying to make him jealous.

But if he was suddenly remembering the woman he married? The one who lit up a room? The one who still wore t-shirts to bed and nothing else, even when he acted like he didn’t care?

Good.

Let him remember.

The next few hours passed in a blur of motion and monitors—IVs, trauma alerts, vitals to chart and families to console. You stayed busy, focused, but not so focused you didn’t notice the way Jack kept drifting into your orbit.

Not close enough to talk.

Just… there.

Lingering near the nurse’s station when you laughed at something Leo said. Answering the trauma bay calls himself when you usually did first. A silent presence, watching without watching, always just a little too close not to be intentional.

There had been so much to do between learning about coworkers drama, taking care of patients, and dealing with incoming traumas that you’d been on your feet for almost seven hours straight before getting any sort of break.

Still not having found the right time to touch the overnight oats in your lunchbox.

Typical.

You finally ducked into the break room around 2:30 a.m., practically vibrating from a bit too much caffeine and sheer stubbornness. Your sneakers squeaked on the tile as you opened your lunch tote, pulling out your jar with a satisfied “Aha”. You gave it a little shake and popped the lid, the faint scent of almond butter and cinnamon curling into the air.

Leo was already in there, lounging in the corner with a Coke Zero and half a sandwich he didn’t seem particularly interested in eating.

“That looks suspiciously healthy,” he said, eyeing your jar like it confused him.

You grinned. “It’s delicious. Cinnamon, chia seeds, oat milk, with a little bit of honey and almond butter. You should try it sometime—maybe it will lower your blood pressure.”

Leo let out a low whistle. “Oof. She’s cute and judgmental.”

You wiggled your spoon at him. “I’m not judgmental. I’m just stating a fact,”

“Same difference,”

You laughed, shaking your head as you settled on the couch. Your big water tumbler clinked softly on the table as you set it down. Leo glanced at it.

“Okay, real talk. How many cups do you own?”

“Oh at least ten,” you said proudly. “And yes, they all match my scrubs and socks.”

He chuckled. “Of course they do.”

You were in the middle of telling him about your latest homemade electrolyte concoction—something with sea salt, lemon, and maple syrup—when the door creaked open.

Jack stepped inside, silent as ever. No one noticed at first, but you felt him before you saw him. That familiar pull.

You looked up and smiled, just a little.

He didn’t smile back.

He walked to the cabinet, pulled out a pod of instant coffee, and started making the world’s saddest cup of caffeine.

“You good?” you asked, casually, spoon still dangling from your mouth.

Jack shrugged. “Fine.”

Leo gave him a nod. “Rough night, man?”

“Same as every night,” Jack said coolly.

There was a pause.

You went back to your oats.

Leo leaned over slightly, stage-whispering, “Is it true you color-code your vitamins?”

You lit up. “Oh my god, yes! You have to! It’s so satisfying.”

Jack let out a breath—not quite a sigh. Not quite anything.

Just something.

Leo turned to him. “She’s kind of a fairy, huh? Healthy, pretty, and scary organized.”

Jack didn’t answer. Just stirred his coffee with the kind of force that made the spoon clink too loudly against the mug.

“I mean, who even makes time for meal prep on night shift?” Leo kept going, still playful, still oblivious. “She comes in glowing while I’m running on vending machine Pop-Tarts and anxiety.”

You grinned again. “You say that like Pop-Tarts are bad.”

Jack finally looked up. Right at you.

“I liked you better when you were sneaking granola bars from my locker.”

Your breath caught a little—not because it was mean. But because it sounded like a memory.

You raised a brow. “You never let me finish the boxes.”

Jack’s gaze didn’t move.

“Maybe I liked the distraction.”

The room went quiet again.

Leo cleared his throat and stood. “Okay, I’m gonna grab another Coke. You two want anything?”

“No,” Jack said, a little too quickly.

You shook your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

When Leo left, the silence stretched.

You scooped another spoonful of oats, pretending not to feel the weight of Jack’s stare.

“You didn’t answer my text,” he said finally.

You blinked. “Which one?”

“The one about locking the side door this morning.”

“Oh.” You smiled faintly. “Sorry, I was halfway through meal prepping for us and my mom called... You know how she gets.”

Jack nodded, jaw tight. “You’re supposed to text me back.”

You raised a brow again, but this time softer. “Jack. It was about a door.”

“It was about you being safe.”

That landed somewhere in your chest.

You didn’t say anything for a second. Just set your spoon down and leaned back into the couch.

“I was fine,” you said gently. “I promise.”

Jack didn’t reply. But he reached for your cup, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip (not using the straw) like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You stared. “That has lemon in it.”

He grimaced. “Tastes like a scented candle.”

You laughed.

He didn’t.

But the corners of his mouth twitched—just a little.

He set your water with a quiet thud, the lid clicking into place like it was holding something back for him, too.

You tilted your head, watching him in that way you always did when you were trying to read what was going on behind those stormy, hazel eyes. “You're drinking lemon water,” you said, voice lilting. “Should I be worried?”

Jack didn’t look at you. “I was thirsty.”

You smiled. “And yet the entire fridge full of bottled water didn’t do it for you?”

He shrugged.

“Grumpy,” you said under your breath, just loud enough.

His eyes finally flicked to yours. “I’m not grumpy.”

“You kind of are.”

“I’m tired.”

“You always say that when you’re being grumpy.”

Jack gave you a slow look—flat, dry, and just a little amused. “You finished?”

“Not even close,” you said sweetly, your elbow propped on the arm of the couch. “You’re cranky, you’re overcaffeinated, and you get weirdly possessive whenever someone’s nice to me.”

That got his attention.

“I’m not possessive,” he said.

You smirked. “Jack, you nearly snapped Leo’s neck when he said I had good handwriting.”

“That’s not what he said, and you know that.”

You blinked, then laughed. “Okay, fine. ‘Prettiest charting I’ve ever seen,’ and he winked. So what?”

Jack’s jaw tightened—just slightly.

You stood, stretching your arms overhead in a way that made your scrub top ride up just a little. His eyes tracked the motion like muscle memory.

You stepped closer, toes nearly brushing his boots. “I like that you care about this,” you said, softer now. “It’s kind of hot, actually.”

He looked at you—really looked at you—for the first time all night.

“You drive me crazy, kid.” he muttered.

You beamed. “So you are jealous.”

Jack sighed through his nose, the tension melting from his shoulders like an exhale he’d been holding in too long. His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering a second too long.

“I know you’re mine,” he said quietly. “I just… sometimes I forget the rest of the world doesn’t always know it.”

Your chest tightened. Not in a painful way. In a finally, you’re here with me again kind of way.

You reached for his hand and squeezed. “Well, they do. But if you ever forget again, I’ll tattoo your name on my ass”

That earned you a snort—low and surprised.

“I’m serious,” you teased, squeezing his fingers. “Right across my cheeks. Property of Jack Abbot. Think it’d go with my Bikinis when I start tanning again?”

His lips twitched. “You’re insane.”

“Mm. And you’re stuck with me.”

“I know,” he murmured, voice quieter now, as he dipped down for a soft kiss, “Wouldn’t change it.”

And there it was.

The part of him no one else got to see—the softness under all that armor he put up. The way he looked at you like you were the only thing in this chaotic, blood-slicked hospital worth holding onto.

Before you could say anything else, the overhead crackled to life:

“Trauma en route. ETA four minutes. MVA, two patients. GSW secondary.”

Jack’s head lifted, all instinct now. You were already moving toward the door when his hand caught yours.

He didn’t pull, didn’t squeeze—just held.

“Be careful,” he said.

You leaned in again, kissing his cheek, quick and certain. “Always.”

Then the moment passed, and the hallway swallowed you both—he leading, you following, hearts synced in the rhythm of the ER. But his hand brushed yours again as you walked.

The trauma had come in hard and fast—twisted metal, broken glass, and enough blood to soak through your shoes. Jack had been in the thick of it, barking orders, steady hands moving like muscle memory while you worked across from him, suctioning, suturing, stabilizing. For a while, there was no room for anything else. No talking. No teasing. Just the two of you, back in sync, locked in the rhythm you knew so well. It was easy to forget the cracks when the adrenaline kicked in.

But by 4:15 a.m., the ER had slowed to a lull.

The kind that was never quiet, but at least breathable.

You’d just finished helping a resident clean up trauma one when they wheeled in another patient—mid-40s, minor head lac, walking wounded and very, very drunk.

You smiled politely, grabbing a suture kit.

“Alright, sir. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Can you sit still for me?”

He gave you a once-over that made your skin crawl. “Sure thing, sweetheart. For you, I’ll be real good.”

You kept it professional. “Thank you.”

But the longer you worked, the bolder he got.

“You married?” he slurred.

You didn’t answer.

“Bet your husband’s not half as pretty as you.”

You offered a tight smile. “Try to stay still. This part stings a little.”

He didn’t even flinch. “You ever date older guys? I got a boat, you know.”

You glanced around the bay, but the resident was long gone, charting somewhere out of earshot.

“I’m flattered, really, but I already have a boat,” you said lightly, finishing the last stitch. “And you’re gonna feel real silly about this in the morning.”

He grinned, crooked and gross. “Not if you give me your number.”

And then he reached out—his hands brushing your hips in a way that was not accidental.

You stepped back instantly, heart thudding.

“That’s enough sir,” you said sharply, your voice still steady, still calm—but colder now. “I’m going to step out for a minute, since I’ve finished. Someone else will check on you soon.”

You didn’t wait for a reply.

You slipped into the furthest supply closet you could easily find and leaned against the shelves, chest rising and falling like you’d just run a sprint. Your hands were shaking—more with anger than fear—but still. It clung to your skin.

The door creaked open a minute later.

“Hey.”

Jack.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, gaze scanning your face. “One of the other nurses said he got grabby.”

You looked up at him, throat tight. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t answer that right away. Just moved closer and touched your cheek, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth like he needed to ground himself.

“You sure?” he asked, quieter now.

You nodded. “Just… gross. Not the first, won’t be the last.”

His jaw flexed. “It shouldn’t be happening at all.”

You leaned into his hand. “It’s okay. I handled it.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it.”

You looked up at him. “Jack—”

He stepped closer, and suddenly his body was pressed against yours, warm and solid and steady. His hands found your waist, rough fingers curling around your hips.

“I should be the only one touching you,” he said, voice low.

“We’ll get written up…”

“I don’t care.”

But Jack wasn’t hearing logic right now. He was standing there like he could still smell every guy you had met tonight on you, like the air hadn’t cleared yet.

“Hey.” You placed your hands on his chest, grounding him. “We don’t have to do this here…”

His hands squeezed your waist. “You’re mine.”

“I know.”

“You don’t flirt like that with anyone else, right?”

You blinked, caught off-guard. “Flirt like what?”

“Like you did with that prick.”

You frowned a abit. “I was being nice. He asked if I wanted something from the vending machine- he asked you too and you looked at him like he offered me lingerie.”

Jack didn’t budge. His grip didn’t loosen.

You tried again. Softer this time.

“I steal your clothes. I come home to you. I wear the ring you bought me, and I’m your wife. I chose you.”

His eyes searched yours—tired, and heavy, with a mix of something else.

You rose on your toes, placing your lips to the corner of his mouth. “I’m yours, Jack.”

And then his arms were around you fully, pulling you in like he needed to feel your heartbeat to believe it. Your heart thudded in your chest, a beat behind your breath. You looked at him, eyes narrowed, lips parted.

You didn’t hear him lock the door.

You felt it.

That soft, decisive click behind you—like a promise.

“Did you just lock the door?”

Jack’s answer was a look—slow, hot, and so heavy it pinned you in place. He stepped with the kind of precision that said this wasn’t spontaneous. No, he’d decided the second he saw you walk into the closet room, cheeks flushed, lip gloss smudged, tensions high.

The second all these guys started paying attention to you tonight.

Jack hadn’t liked that.

He tried to be quiet about it, like always. Quiet the way a storm is—only right before it breaks.

He stopped just barely inches from you, hand coming up to trace a line along your jaw. His fingers were thick, rough, warm, familiar. His touch didn’t ask permission. It remembered.

“You keep smiling like that,” he said low, his voice a gravel-coated whisper, “and I’ll have to fuck the memory of it out of you.”

Your breath caught—somewhere between outrage and arousal. “Jack—”

But you didn’t get the rest out.

He kissed you.

Not sweet. Not careful.

Claiming.

His hands tangled in your hair, dragging you into him like it was instinct, like your mouth had always belonged to his. You melted into him, your body curving against his like you were built for this—built for him. His hips pressed forward, pinning you to the wall of the storage closet, and your head thudded back softly against the cool plaster as his lips slid down to your throat, sucking, biting just enough to make you gasp.

“Locked the door for a reason,” he murmured, tongue flicking against the skin where your pulse fluttered. “Tired of pretending I didn’t want you every second we’re here.”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers gripping his shirt like lifelines. “You’re sooo jealous.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, dark eyes devouring. “Damn right I’m jealous.”

His hand slid under your scrub top, skimming up your ribs, palm flat, hot and possessive. “You’re mine—I can’t fucking stand it when they look at you like you’re not.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” you whispered, breathless, lips grazing his.

His answer was a growl.

Jack spun you, quick and controlled, pressing you front-first against the shelves. Supplies rattled, somewhere above you—gloves, gauze, sterile wraps—but it was the sound of his breath at your neck that made your knees threaten to buckle.

His hands roamed—under your shirt to your tits, over the waistband of your scrub pants, every inch of bare skin he found earning a new kind of heat.

“You wanna be flirted with?” he whispered, voice dragging down your spine. “Fine. But I get to remind you who makes you cum”

You gasped as his mouth met the base of your neck, teeth grazing, tongue following. “Jack…”

“You knew,” he said again, almost reverent now.

And god help you, you did.

Because you’d walked in here to take a second, needing this—needing him. Not just his hands or his mouth or the way he made you come apart so effortlessly, but this claiming. This reminder. That under all the stress, the silence, the long nights and missed moments—the fire still burned. Hot. Unrelenting.

His fingers slipped lower, teasing the waist of your scrub pants, and you pressed back against him without thinking, needing more, needing everything.

“You’re mine,” he murmured again, lips brushing your shoulder, low and slow. “Say it.”

You turned your head just enough to whisper, “I’m yours, Jack. Always.”

And that was all it took.

He kept you facing the shelves, a hand coming down to your hips to steady you as he continued to feel you up with the other. “Yeah? You gonna be my good girl, sweetheart?”

The whimper you let out was pathetic. A low pitched sound that came from the back of your throat, as Jack started to flood your senses. He gave your ass a quick, hard, smack. Hand going back to rub over the spot, as it snapped you out of your daze. “I asked you a question, baby.”

You nodded, desperately. Already whoozy from the assault on your sense that your husband brought on. “Mhm! Jack-”

He shushed you, gently pushing down your scrub pants, “Gotta make this quick and quiet, or they’ll all know what a bad girl you’ve been.”

Reaching back, you straightend up leaning into his burning touch, wanting him closer than he already was. You could feel how hard he was beneath his cargos, half chubbed as he ground his hips into your panty-clad ass.

You would’ve felt embarressed if this hadn’t felt so right.

Clothes barely off, lazily grinding against your husband in a closet like you’re back in some college frat house at UPenn.

Jack doesn’t waste anymore time though, hastily shoving your panties down, rough fingers making quick work of finding your swollen clit. The tight circles he does against you, make you feel dizzy—legs already beginning to shake, as if you haven’t been working for ten hours already.

Your moans are muffled by your arm as you lean further into the shelves, but press your hips back toward Jack. Your resolve slowly slipping, as he dips a finger in your wet heat.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” he groans out softly, continuing as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

Then he just pulls away.

Not entirely, still so close that you’ve basically become one. It’s enough for you to whine at the loss of contact, pushing back into him hoping he’ll start again.

“Why’d you stop?” Jack can practically hear the pout in your voice. The breathy little lilt of displeasure showing in your tone.

“Sorry, baby. We only have time for one thing, and I’d much rather make you cum on my cock.” He kisses the back of your neck, gentle and loving as ever as he reaches down to free himself from his scrub pants.

He’s aching, he’s so hard.

He takes a few deep breaths before haphazrdly stroking himself. Fisting his cock in his meaty hand, already slick after playing with your wet little cunt.

Jack wasn’t going to make love to you.

He was going to fuck you like you needed it.

Lining himself up, Jack pushed in with a solid thrust of his sturdy hips. You just about collapsed into the shelves, already feeling so full of Jack as he started a steady rhythm. It was overwhelming, one of his hands tight against your hips as he used it to guide you into his thrusts, the other snaked over your mouth to muffle your breathy moans because the hallway was just beyond the locked closet door.

“Shit- you’re so fucking tight, baby.” you cleched against him as he drove himself further into you, trying to angle himself to hit the spot that would have you seeing stars in no time.

Your walls hugged him tight, leaving him a mess as he watched himself slip in and out of you in a trance like state.

“Fuck Jack-” you start mewling, hips pushing and grinding to meet his thrusts. “Ah- ah, you’re so deep.”

He mumbles something incoherent against your shoulder, both of his hands moving to your hips and ass to get more leverage to fuck you nice and hard.

You can tell you’re making a mess of yourself, panties clearly ruined with how you’re leaking down your thighs and his cock. Each thrust is a new shockwave of pleasure you don’t expect, but Jack doesn’t let up and you don’t want him to.

“Too m-much,” his cock throbs, hard and heavy inside you as he stills for just a second.

“Yeah? It’s too much for you, Sweetheart?” It’s almost mocking as he draws it out into longer deeper strokes—the ones that make it hard to breathe, the air escaping your lungs faster than you can take the chance to gasp for air.

“You’re just so big,” you whimper out, trying to keep yourself from collapsing back against him as your legs start to feel like jello.

Jack gives you a light scoff, “Good thing you’re being a good girl, and takin’ me so well, huh?” He keeps the pace steady, if not a bit quicker. Switching up the tempo to keep you on your toes and eager for him.

“Mhm!” You can feel your orgasm building, that all too familiar pressure in your lower tummy bubbling over. “Fuck- fuck I’m gonna cum-”

It’s like a switch flips in his brain, kicking him into high gear as he spins you around to face him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close as he lifts one of your legs around his waist.

“Yeah, pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?” He asks you through a sloppy kiss, one that smears what’s left of your lip gloss.

You feel like you’re about to implode, too tense and too loose all at once. Your hands find purchase on his clothed chest and the curls at the base of his neck, as he continues his loving assault on your body and senses. Jack is everywhere, and you’d never want it to be different.

He watches as you finally let go, shivering your way through your orgasm as you cum on his thick cock. Your breath catches as he kisses you slowly, working his cock in and out of your gushing pussy still chasing his own release.

“Fuck- you ruin me baby,” He groans into your kiss swollen lips, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before burying himself as deep as possible. His own breathing shallow as he spills his load deep into your cunt, right where it belongs.

Blinking slowly, you return to your body. Jack looks down at you, capturing your lips in one last sweet kiss as he gently pulls out of you. Your body shudders at the now empty feeling, “You with me, Baby?”

His thumbs stroke your cheeks, gentle and loving as you just stare at him a little dazed. You manage a soft hum, and he begins the process of putting you back together for the public.

You cringed a bit as he helped you pull the pants of your scrubs back up, at least they were dark… right? You’d change into your backups as soon as you found the courge to leave the storage room. Then there was your hair which Jack lovingly braided as quickly as he could, before fixing himself the best he could

“Everyone’s totally gonna know… Ugh…” you leaned your head against his chest, sighing at the thought of John or Ellis questioning where you two were for the past 15 minutes.

“You look fine, besides who cares?” He questioned, “Do you know how many times I’ve heard the same story from other departments,”

“Yeah but this is us,” you gave him a deadpan expression, as he reached behind you so that he could grab your stethoscope and badge reel from one of the many shelves behind you.

He gave you a nonchalant shrug, and one last kiss on the forehead. “You ready to go get ‘em tiger?”

“You’re so dead whe we get home, it’s not even funny Jack Abbot!”

“We still have about two more hours, so I think I’m safe, Princess.”

mercvry-glow 2025

#the pitt #the pitt max #the pitt hbo #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbott #jack abbott x reader #jack abbott x you #dr. jack abbot #dr. jack abbot x reader #dr. jack abbot x you #dr. jack abbott #dr. jack abbott x reader #dr. jack abbott x you #shawn hatosy #❥ - Jack Abbot

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primofate · 1 year ago

Text

Drop the towel wrapped around you and appear naked in front of your Genshin husband

In a nutshell: That old tiktok challenge/prank. In your private, shared home of course.

Warnings: My perpetual warning as a writing mother is that I am sleep deprived. Very VERY sleep deprived. SUGGESTIVE: BORDERING ON NOT SAFE FOR WORK, written on a 10 minute timer please be gentle

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, implied fem!reader

Personal Favourites: Tighnari

Aether

chokes on nothing

"Y-Y-Y/N?! What're you doing?"

Comes up to you and tries to cover you up with the towel again, as if it was a sin to look at you naked in broad daylight.

Full on blush on his face and respectfully tries to look away.

"Don't surprise me like that!"

Seems not to like it but actually likes it too much to the point of getting embarrassed for himself.

Yes he's your husband but is still a precious respectful man

Albedo

Blinks a couple of times but appreciates your beauty and gives your body a slow once over. Chuckles in amusement afterwards.

"Is there a reason for this?"

Just to get his reaction, you admit.

"Well..." starts walking towards you. "I do have higher self-control than most others... but let it be known that I'm far from immune to my..."

Stops in front of you and yet again seems to eat you up with his eyes. "...needs," ends with a suspiciously sweet smile.

Alhaitham

Can't help but be a bit surprised and you can see it by the way his eyebrows go up as soon as the towel hits the floor.

Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again, as if hesitating, which is really strange for someone like him.

"...Is this the part where I sweep you off your feet and carry you to our room?" there's a bit of amusement in his tone. Stands to walk over to you.

Places a hand on your waist.

"Cause I can guarantee you that we DON'T need to be in our bedroom for things to happen...but you knew that already, right?"

Ayato

Quirks his eyebrows up, amused smile appearing on his face.

"I must say, this is a lovely surprise,"

Traces your figure with his eyes. Then approaches you to hold your waist and dip in to kiss your neck softly.

"How could I ever resist, my love, when you're standing in front of me in all your magnificence?"

Takes the longest time just admiring and basking in your beauty, tracing every little part of your skin.

Baizhu

Lets pretend the snake ain't here okay?

Does a double take.

"Y/N, first off, you'll get a cold,"

Pushes his spectacles up and gives you a once over.

"Second, you'll give me a heart attack,"

Beckons you over gently with his hand. "Come over, I suppose it's been a while since...I've done a full body check,"

Hides a grin.

Cyno

Blankly looks at you and is still processing what is happening

"Y/N? Is this... Did I do something?"

Is so suspicious that this was some kind of trap.

You tell him its simply to get a reaction out of him.

Immediately shoots out of his seat and catches your wrist.

"Then...Is it my turn to get one out of you? There's several ways to do that...and I know your favourite ones,"

Diluc

Eyes follow the towel down to the floor and head snaps back up to blink at the sight in front of him. Recovers quickly.

Chuckles as he stands and walks over. Picks up the towel and drapes it around your shoulders. "Only because it's quite chilly tonight,"

but still ends up inching the towel off your shoulder, tracing your collarbone. "Although, as your husband, I suppose it IS my job to keep you warm... So how would you like it today, love?"

Itto

"WHOA!" by instinct covers his eyes with his hands but his fingers are actually splayed apart so he can totally see through the gaps

Feels himself getting aroused

I mean the guy gets turned on even just at the sight of your neck

Suddenly stands and walks over to you, easily hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and makes a beeline to your shared room.

"You're asking for it Y/N!"

Kaeya

"Oho?"

Sits back and relaxes, he doesn't really know what he was expecting. Some type of show maybe. "What's this? Finally giving me that lap dance you owe me, snowflake?"

Laughs but you're incredibly flustered at the suggestion.

Beckons you over and grabs you by the waist to sit on his lap.

"Feel that?" he whispers in your ear.

Oh you feel it alright, pressing at your upper thigh.

"Now whose fault is that? You'll have to do something about it now, love,"

Kaveh

"Archons!"

Looks away with a blush on his cheeks.

"Put something on!"

Yes he's seen you naked before, you're married, but the guy's always flustered in unexpected events.

You provoke him further by coming over, sitting sideways on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Y/N!" He looks down at you and can't help but look at your nakedness in full and close view.

Gulps but starts to feel his body heat up, his hands suddenly, assertively planting themselves on your waist as he meets your eyes. "I don't care what you say about yourself, but know that you're the only one who takes me from 0 to a 100 in a second,"

Kazuha

"Y/N?" Chuckles nervously and takes in the sight of your body.

Smiles at you and takes your hand to kiss the back of it.

"I've seen you countless of times... Each time, I'm reminded by how fortunate I am that you chose me to take care of you,"

Caresses your cheek all the way down to your jawline. "You're beautiful, Y/N,"

He has the most tender and gentle look on his face, but its mixed with a passion that you've never seen on anyone before. "Let me show you how much I love you, dear,"

Neuvillette

Eyebrows twitches upwards in surprise. Has no clue what to do in this new situation.

He doesn't say anything but is most definitely enjoying the view of your body. You see his jaw tense up, as if he's clenching his teeth.

"Ahem," he starts. Then seems to have the most trouble prying his eyes away to meet your gaze. "Is this...perhaps another way to tell me... that you would like some attention?"

You say not really and just wanted to see how he would react.

"Ah," he lets out, as if understanding and as if the conversation has ended.

A moment of silence passes and you're starting to wonder if that was all he was going to do. But he then stands and places a gentle hand on your bare waist. "...So you're simply doing it, as people would say, 'for fun'?"

He asks, and you say yes innocently. He smiles a bit and has another hand cupping your face and thumbing your lips. "I see," breathes out slowly.

"Unfortunately, for your actions, the Iudex feels that a punishment is in order,"

Scaramouche

Raises one eyebrow as if he's bored. Then smirks.

"If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask," pulls you by the waist and makes you straddle him "But this is good too,"

Hands actually start to grope you up and down. Will fondle and squeeze in private places immediately.

"What? Startin' to feel good? S'what you get when you play games with me,"

will smack your butt the first chance he gets

Tartaglia

Immediately jumps up and in an automatic daze, eyes glued to his favourite parts, trudges towards you and attempts to bury himself in softness.

You quickly stop him and in turn HE quickly stops you. Hands easily bunching your wrists up together and angling them upwards above your head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grins down at you. "Someone's being naughty,"

You complain that he reacts too fast.

Laughs, but his hand starts to unbuckle his pants and there's a dark look in his eyes. "Oh, I'm just being naughty back. When you want something, Y/N, believe it when I say I'll GIVE it to you,"

Tighnari

ear twitches. Tail swishes back and forth. Does not show any expression except slight curiosity.

"What's the occasion?"

You tell him that you just wanted to see his reaction.

He hums and nods slowly, like processing some type of complicated information.

"Wait here, I'll be back in a minute,"

You ask him where he's going and you're a bit upset at the lack of response from him.

He chuckles and returns to you, tail angling upwards in an attempt to wrap and brush against your waist. Takes your hand, presses your wrist against his lips and seems to take a slow breath in.

"I'm merely clearing off my schedule for today. Now, be patient, I'll be back,"

Wriothesley

Almost spits out his drink but gulps it all down instead.

Eyes widen a fraction at the sudden act but his hand is already loosening his tie.

"Wait right there precious," chuckles while he says this, tie already falling to the ground, now unbuttoning his vest. At the same time walks over to you urgently as if you're going to disappear but laughs nervously while he's at it.

"I swear you'll be the death of me,"

Looks like he's going to pounce on you but when he reaches you he only gives you a chaste kiss, as if asking for permission first.

You suddenly remind him that he has a LOT of things to do today, appointments and all.

Actually barks out a quick laugh. "You're not really expecting me to walk out now? As far as I'm concerned," pulls you flush against him and kisses your jaw "The only thing I need to do today is you,"

Xiao

"Wh-Wh-What do you think you're doing?!"

caught unprepared. Crosses his arms and looks away. Pretends he's uninterested but his eyes still dart back to look at you.

You ask him if he likes what he sees.

He now completely looks away from you. A few seconds pass and when he turns his head back to look at you there's now a carnal look in his eyes.

He walks towards you slowly and captures your chin to tilt it up. Looks down at you as if he hasn't eaten a meal in days.

"...When I'm done with you tonight you'll get your answer,"

Zhongli

Chuckles. Amused.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, dear?"

You shrug and even do a turn for him. He watches you carefully and takes in the image in front of him.

Smiles and strides over towards you. "Truly a magnificent sight," brushes his fingers against your neck

His eyes trail downwards and isn't shy about looking at your body. "Might I remind you my dear, my stamina surpasses that of a normal human," he smiles at you sincerely.

You tell him that you're well aware. He just chuckles again.

"Then you know well what'll come next,"

End

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#genshin fluff #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #headcanons #ayato x reader #scaramouche x reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader #cyno x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #tighnari x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaeya x reader #kaveh x reader

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matchingbatbites · 28 days ago

Text

Explicit | 2k words | First time blowjob + Getting together

Found this in my drafts and finished it off. I know this is inspired by a post but I cannot find it.

"Can I blow you?"

Eddie freezes where he's unpacking his bag at the Harrington dining table, the first to arrive for tonight's D&D session. He blinks before turning to look at Steve, who is leaning casually in the doorway like he hadn't just offered Eddie the chance to live out one of his frequent fantasies.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that? I think my ears stopped working for a second there."

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, his hip popping out in that bitchy way that makes Eddie want to bite him. "Can I blow you?" he asks again, this time with more emphasis, and yeah, Eddie heard him right the first time.

Eddie says "What's with the sudden interest, Stevie?" which he thinks is a valid question, considering the fact that Steve has never shown any inclination towards any dick, let alone Eddie's. He'd gotten confirmation of such when he came out to Steve a couple months ago and received a prompt "Oh cool. You can talk to me about boys if you want, but I don't know how much help I'll be."

The Steve in front of him exhales sharply, clearly holding back a bitchier response as he replies "Do you want a blowjob or not, man?"

It only takes Eddie half a second to answer yes, because even if this is some fever dream, there's no way he's going to turn down the man he's been crushing on. All the more reason to agree, honestly.

"Here?" Eddie asks, and Steve shakes his head.

"Upstairs, in case one of the kids shows up early."

Right, of course.

Eddie follows Steve up to his room, where the other boy shuts and locks the door behind them before he's pushing Eddie up against the solid surface.

There's no build up, no easing into it; no needy kisses or teasing touches like Eddie would expect from Steve Harrington. Steve just drops to his knees and starts on Eddie's belt, and all Eddie can do is watch as the hottest guy he knows pulls down his pants and boxers just enough to expose him.

Steve's eyebrows shoot up and his face flushes pink as he takes in Eddie's dick for the first time. Eddie's too distracted by how pretty Steve is to ask if he likes what he sees, and Steve doesn't say anything as he wraps his hand around the shaft, seeming to get a feel for it. Eddie is only about half-chubbed, but begins to rapidly approach rock hard as Steve swipes his thumb over the piercing that sits below the head.

"Did that hurt?" Steve asks, voice thick with something, and Eddie shrugs.

"Yeah. Made jacking off pretty tough for a while."

Steve hums in response and finally gives it a proper stroke, and Eddie groans low, even though it's a bit drier than he'd like. The other boy must realize the same thing, because he pulls his hand back and - fuck - spits in it before he's grabbing Eddie's dick and trying again.

It's much better, and Eddie hums encouragingly as Steve jerks him off, his eyes focused on the head that's getting redder and redder as Eddie's dick hardens. Eddie bites his lip as he watches Steve focus on his task, as he speeds up and slows down, trying a few things out.

Eventually Steve leans in and licks over the tip, pulling another groan from Eddie, and it's like Steve suddenly remembers that the dick in his hand is actually attached to a person. He looks up at Eddie, his gaze swirling with wonder and desire as he takes the head into his mouth and sucks.

"Fuuuuck, Stevie," Eddie groans, unable to keep his mouth shut at the sight before him. "Look like a fuckin' dream on your knees for me, baby."

Steve shudders at the praise and pulls back to mouth at the piercing, and Eddie desperately needs to know if Steve has done this before, because if not then he's a fucking natural. He clocks every one of Eddie's reactions and abuses the knowledge, tongue flicking the piercing or lips suckling on the tip. It's not long before he takes more into his mouth, sinking down onto Eddie's cock as far as he can before pulling back with a wet noise.

He quickly finds his rhythm, bobbing on Eddie's dick like he's done it a hundred times, and Eddie gives up on trying to be cool about this whole thing. He pushes his hands into Steve's hair and pulls him closer, forcing more of his dick into Steve's mouth.

"Tap my leg if you need to stop," Eddie says as he gives a shallow thrust into that wet heat. Steve just moans, eyes fluttering as he lets Eddie guide him, his hands grabbing Eddie's jeans and holding on as Eddie fucks into his mouth.

Eddie tries to be careful; he doesn't want to hurt Steve, but the boy is just so beautiful with tears welling up in his eyes and a pink blush staining his skin. He snaps his hips, pushing the head of his dick into Steve's throat just enough to hear him choke, and Steve winces at the intrusion but doesn't tap out.

Eddie croons a soft "That's it, baby. Such a good boy, taking my dick so well," and Steve's reaction is even stronger than before, the way he melts into the encouragement even more obvious. It makes Eddie want to shower Steve in praise, to smother him with it, so he never doubts how perfect he is.

"Look at me, Stevie," he commands, and when Steve's eyes lift to meet Eddie's - glossy with unshed tears and a bit unfocused - it's enough to push Eddie right to the edge.

"Fuck, I'm-"

Eddie yanks Steve off and strips his dick in quick strokes until he's coming, shooting his spend over Steve's beautiful, dazed face. He takes just a second to catch his breath before he drops to the floor and kisses Steve hard, smearing his cum between their lips. Steve whines into it as he kisses back, and Eddie blindly reaches down, searching for the hard line of Steve's dick in his pants.

Instead, his hand meets a damp spot, and Eddie breaks the kiss so he can look down to confirm his suspicion.

"Holy shit, Steve. Did you come in your pants just from sucking me off?"

"I'm, uh- just as surprised as you are," Steve says, his voice a little scratchier than it was before. "I wasn't expecting to enjoy that as much as I did."

Fuck. Eddie forgot about this part. The part where Steve admits that he just wanted to see what it was like and figured Eddie was the perfect candidate for his little experiment. Eddie doesn't mind, really, not when this whole scenario has been kind of a dream come true, but that doesn't mean it's going to hurt any less.

They're interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, followed by a rapid knocking on the door. "Steve! You in here? Eddie's stuff is here but we can't find him!"

Fucking Dustin.

"Yeah, me and Steve are here!" Eddie replies. "We're talking about something, I'll be down in a sec!"

Dustin gives a "Hurry up, man!" through the door, and Eddie shakes his head as he listens to him walk away. He stands and helps Steve move from the floor to the nearby desk chair.

"I'll, uh. Go grab you a towel," he says, and Steve nods.

Eddie quickly fixes his pants before heading to the bathroom across the hall. He splashes some water on his face to help get rid of the flush, then wets a washcloth while keeping an ear out for any wandering children. The coast seems to keep clear as he goes back, and a shiver runs down his spine at the sight of Steve, who had slipped off his bottoms while Eddie was gone.

Fuck, Eddie would love to get his mouth on that cock.

He passes Steve the cloth and just stands there as he wipes off his face, then his dick, unable to look away.

"So, uh. Where did that come from?" Eddie can't help but ask, his curiosity winning out over his self-preservation. Steve looks up at him and blushes, even the tips of his ears going pink.

"Um. Dustin was ranting to me last week, talking about how you're always so strict with everyone during your games, and he thought— Well, he thought if you got laid you might go easier on them."

Eddie blinks, absorbing the information for a moment. "Did he… ask you? To do this?"

Steve shakes his head and moves to the dresser to grab a clean pair of sweatpants.

"No, that was— that was all me. It just popped into my head, like Hey, I could do that, and it just wouldn't go away. I thought I could at least ask, and if you said no, then it wouldn't be a big deal."

So, it's exactly what Eddie thought. "Right. Yeah. You were just— trying it out with someone you know, got it." Eddie turns and pushes his hands into his hair, tugging on it a bit. Stupid pretty boys and their stupid eyes, making Eddie feel things when all he is is a placeholder, an experiment.

Steve makes a soft noise and grabs Eddie by the arm. Eddie relents as Steve turns him back around so he can look at him. "Eddie, that wasn't— Yeah, okay. I didn't really like, think about it before Dustin brought it up. But I know I like being around you, and I know I liked that, so maybe— If you like me, maybe you'd be willing to give me a shot?"

He looks so earnest, so hopeful, those hazel eyes wide and wanting. There's no world in which Eddie would even want to turn him down. Instead he takes Steve's hand and rubs his thumb over Steve's knuckles. "If I liked that, he says. Like it wasn't a fucking dream come true."

Steve breaks into a beaming smile and steps closer. "Oh yeah? Dream about that often?" he asks, and Eddie rolls his eyes a little even as he sways into Steve's space.

Cocky motherfucker.

"Do I dream about the hottest guy I've ever seen giving me a blowjob like he was made for it? Yeah, might have happened once or twice, baby."

Steve huffs and closes the gap between them, pressing their lips together in a chaste, achingly sweet kiss. Eddie hums into it and moves his free hand to Steve's hip, his fingers just slipping under the hem of his shirt. S

Before they can do anything more, a banging comes from the door behind them, along with an annoyed "Can you two hurry up?! We need to get started if we want to finish on time!"

Eddie makes a mental note to kill Dustin's character tonight as he turns, still holding on to Steve. "Have some fucking patience, Henderson! Go back downstairs before I make you roll with disadvantage all night!"

Dustin squawks a "What?! That's not fair!" and Eddie just rolls his eyes while Steve presses his face to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter.

"Now, Dustin!"

Dustin grumbles but stomps off, and Eddie wraps his arms around Steve's waist. "Something funny, Stevie?"

Steve shakes his head. "I just think it's funny that this whole thing happened because Dustin thought you were being too hard on them, but it's looking like you'll be even worse now."

"Oh yeah," Eddie says with a grin. He gives Steve another quick kiss and says "I'm gonna be a monster now, because instead of being up here kissing you, I have to go listen to them argue for hours."

"You love them," Steve counters, and yeah, Eddie does. "You better go before they decide to break the door down."

Eddie nods and reluctantly pulls away. "We, uh. We can talk more about this later, but for now— Boyfriends? Maybe?"

Steve beams and nods. "Yeah. Boyfriends. Now go have fun."

Edit: Inspiration post found!

#steve once again speed running his sexuality crisis #always a favorite of mine #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #joey writes

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i-like-loserz · 4 months ago

Text

apt for two

pairing: san x reader

cw: smut (18+), drunk!san with needy-desperate vibes (as always), afab!reader, friends-to-lovers, praise kink, mommy kink, handjob, nipple play (m!recieving), breeding kink, unprotected piv, eternal boner (you'll find out), mention of asian glow, san's fancam, not beta-read, etc.

wc: 4k (wow)

note: I WAS SUPPOSED TO FINISH LIKE THREE 1/4 DONE FICS BUT INSTEAD IM DOING THIS :) also i get asian glow too, so i love the representation i'm getting with drunk-teez!

1 shot

tonight was supposed to involve a pregame at your place before bar-hopping, but somebody decided to ditch you and turn in early (wooyoung). of course, it wasn't until 9:30 that you got the text.

you'd been waiting so patiently, only having one drink. you were saving the rest to share with your friends once he arrived. it was supposed to be the three of you, but now it's just--

2 shots

"maybe he's just tired because of work or something?"

san is sweet, trying to lighten your disappointment.

he just took his second shot, barely wincing as he swallows it quickly before gently setting the glass back on the counter -- you can tell he's trying to hide his distaste for the liquor.

"he's just hungover because he decided to go out without us last night, sannie..." you drone, "he's probably sleeping off the club."

"hm, you're probably right. but if he were here, it probably wouldn't be that fun if he's hungover."

"that's true..."

you pour another round of shots.

3 shots

"hey, let's play a game." san looks at you with bright eyes.

you can see it already -- the flush spreading across his cheeks. for such a big guy, he sure get tipsy easily.

"what kind of game? there's only the two of us."

"how about...apateu?"

"with two people?" he nods with a cute little smile. how could you deny him? "sure, if you want"

5 shots (for san)

you bite back an adoring smile as you watch san down a second shot. his expressions are a lot freer now, letting himself wince just from the smell of tequila, followed by a grossed-out groan after he takes it.

"okay, maybe we should stop. you've lost twice already." he's not very good at this game -- even when you let him pick the number for each turn.

"no, no, let's go again!" his eyes are glazed over, lids heavy from the liquor as he tries to convince you to continue.

you let a smile crack as you watch him sway prettily in front of you, "...you seem a lot more drunk than me though."

"hm?" he smiles back, "that's okay? right?"

you can't help but laugh at his adorableness. he picks up your shot glass and nudges it closer to you.

"just take one, so we're even."

it might just be the liquor, or that pretty blush on his face, but you're feeling bold.

"mm, but you had two, baby."

you say it so casually, yet he reacts to that word immediately. his expression is quickly replaced with something needy.

oh, so he liked that....

"t-then take two." he suggests with a stutter.

you pour yourself one more, right to the brim, and he watches on in awe. you drink it easily, enjoying the way san's eyes stare at your lips as you lick them clean.

"i don't think we're gonna make it to the bars tonight." you tease.

his small shy smile returns, "just stay here...with me, then."

5 shots + a glass of water (for san)

you guide san to the couch with a glass of water in your hand.

barely a few steps from the kitchen counter, he makes you stop for a moment so he can clumsily lace his fingers with yours.

"it's more secure" he murmurs shyly.

you don't say anything as you continue to lead him into the living room, but when you turn away you're biting your lip to stop yourself from pouncing on him.

you're afraid that your cuteness aggression will scare him away.

he immediately picks up a pillow to snuggle against his chest as he sits down. always needing something in his lap...

he looks up at you, all pink cheeks and smiles, as you set the glass of water down on the coffee table in front of him.

you sit down next to him and settle against the plush seat with a sigh.

"what now?" he asks eager and curious.

eager for what?

"well, first, drink some water," san obediently takes a few sips of water as you continue to speak, "do you want to watch a movie or something?"

you were planning on letting him crash on the couch, but how could you leave him when he's looking at you like that?

"hm..." he puts the glass down before looking back at you with a shy expression, "can we watch something else?"

"like what?"

"can i show you some of my fancams?"

"...fancams...?"

"yeah, i want to show you how i look in concert."

you almost giggle from how shy he's being. isn't tequila supposed to make you bolder?

"sannie, i've been to your concerts."

he pouts -- actually pouts, "but you haven't seen them like this!"

how could you deny him?

"ok, ok, let's have a look then."

you try to give him the remote to look it up, but he immediately struggles to type with it -- even turning off the tv at some point -- so you have to take over.

"so it's...'san fancam--'" you press in each letter individually.

"'--ice on my teeth 241115'" he finishes for you.

"...1...5..."

you finally type it all in and click on the video. you see woo (the ditcher of the night, you remind yourself) crouching in front of a sleekly dressed san, who looks very different from the soft and cuddly man next to you.

"how do you remember all of the numbers for the title?" you question as you finally relax back onto the couch.

he shrugs, "i dunno, i just do -- wait, start it over, we were talking during the start!"

"san, it's been like, two seconds."

"please??"

you start it over to placate him.

as you watch the video, you notice how quiet he is next to you.

he must be really into his own fancams...

you get it though. you've never watched his fancams before (you've only seen woo's because he forces you to binge them with him whenever you facetime), but he looks really good in that long coat, glasses, and with his hair slicked back like that, hitting every note with that stupidly handsome look on his face.

he looks so serious...so domineering. delectable.

so...not how you usually see him.

you turn to look at him, wondering if he's just as entranced by himself as you are -- but he's already looking at you.

you feel your cheeks heat up as you're caught ogling your friend, right in front of him.

"so...? do you like it?"

"yeah, it was a good performance, san."

"sannie." he corrects, "do you really like it, or are you just saying that?"

"no, i really like it--"

"which part? do you like the outfit? a lot of people say they like that outfit on me the most. but there's also one where i have on a see-through top..." he starts to ramble.

oh, now you know what he's looking for.

your voice is soft as you coo to him, "you looked great up there, sannie. so talented...and handsome." he smiles sheepishly as you compliment him, "did you show this to me because you wanted to show off? show me how good you are in front of a crowd?"

now he's shy.

"just wanted to know if you liked what you see."

you cradle his face with your hand, "you're so cute, baby," he melts against your touch, nuzzling his warm cheek against you, "just want some praise, hm?"

it's crazy that you have this man falling apart for you with a few words and a bare touch of your hand.

on stage, he looks so regal and put together.

right here? he looks undeniably soft and malleable.

"do you like me?"

"of course, i do." you caress his cheek with your thumb, enjoying the heat that radiates off his skin, "you're a sweetheart."

"no, like, do you like-like me?" his eyes meet yours, wide with hope and yearning.

"what, are we in middle school?" you tease.

he whines softly, "im serious"

you ignore his question and throw it back at him.

"do you like me?"

he's hesitant, timid, but eventually --

"mhm."

"oh really? since when?"

"since forever."

"why didn't you tell me?"

"because..." san briefly looks away, "because i don't know if you like me"

your hand drifts from his jaw to his chin. you can't help but admire his perfect features -- his fluffy hair, dark brows, intense eyes, cute nose, and...his lips.

you carefully glide your thumb over his pretty bottom lip, enamored by how pretty and pink it is.

he stutters out a breath.

"and if i do?"

"c-can you kiss me?" he sounds so sweet and timid when he asks. his eyes eagerly glance down at your lips as you drag his bottom lip down, revealing his pearly white teeth.

you're mesmerized by his mouth. you press against his perfect teeth and he opens up immediately, letting you drag your thumb against his soft tongue. he sucks it in, laving sweetly against the sensitive pad of your finger as he stares up at you, eager to please.

"such a good boy~"

he whines, brows furrowing in desperate need. what a sweet sound.

you move your hand from his mouth so you can get in a better position. you shift from the couch to his lap, wanting to feel his body against yours. his arms immediately loop around your body, finding your waist so he can press you closer.

you dip in, hand at the base of his neck to control him, and nudge your nose against his -- just to tease him. he tries to push up and press his lips to yours, but you stop him, hand firmly holding him back.

"what am i gonna do with you?" you shake your head, "silly boy..."

he looks confused, brows tighten together endearingly, an expression that's slightly embarrassed.

"i-i thought you wanted to kiss."

"did i say that?"

"n-no, but--"

"you think you're so pretty that anyone would let you hit?" your hand moves up to the center of his neck. you press gently on the sides of his throat, pulling a groan from his lips. "mm...maybe you are pretty..."

he shivers from the praise. you can tell he's trying to hold back, but he's still subtly trying to move his hips under you, desperate for any type of friction.

"please? just one kiss?"

"just one?" you ghost your lips on his.

he whimpers at the feeling. you guess his lips are especially sensitive.

"please"

you give in, leaning against his silky pink lips. you feel him melt against you, sighing into it like it's the sweet relief of water in a barren desert. he desperately attempts to pull you closer by your waist, but you're already firmly pressed against him.

he deepens the kiss, delicately licking against the seam of lips before diving in and dragging his tongue against yours. you taste the tequila and lust -- it makes you hungry for more. he moans prettily when you nip at his lips, sucking on the sweet, sensitive skin until it gets all puffy and plump.

when you break the kiss, he attempts to chase your lips for more, not ready to separate. you dodge his advances with an amused smile, loving how needy he is already.

"you said one kiss"

"mmm, i think i messed up on that one..." he swipes his tongue over his swollen lips as he stares hungrily at yours, eyelids heavy but gaze wanting, "can we try again?"

“maybe if you earn it again…”

he groans, “fuck,” he presses his hips against yours, making you feel how hard he is under his pants, “but i need you so bad, mommy.”

hearing that word slip from his beautiful lips almost makes you melt into a puddle, right on his lap. if it weren’t for the way you were straddling him, your thighs would’ve immediately pressed together from the amount of need you were feeling.

you press down on him just as eagerly, panting from the pressure of his hard cock against your aching clit.

"yeah? you gonna be a good boy and fill me up?"

"mhmm~" his deep voice drones, vibrating from his chest against yours, "please let me -- i need to be inside of you."

you roll your hips against him, coaxing cute whimpers from him with every press.

"think you deserve it?" you taunt. san can't even answer you, merely nodding with his eyes squeezed shut, reveling in the feeling of your body grinding against his.

your hands move down from his neck, over his chest and stomach before settling right against his covered cock. you can feel the way he twitches under his pants, desperately begging for attention.

he groans when you press against him, the minimal pressure is already too much for him to handle.

"you're already so hard for me." you stroke him over his pants, feeling the perfect contours of his erection even when separated by the fabric.

"m'always hard for you" he slurs, hips subtly flexed upwards in an attempt to feel more of you.

"let me see." you unbutton his pants with ease and use a bit of force to pull them off just far enough to reveal his pretty cock and the top of his legs. his blushing tip weeps delicately with beads of cum, already spilling against his shaft -- evidence of how close he already is to the edge.

when you wrap your hand around him, his body stiffens and his hands instantly grip over the top of your thighs to ground himself.

"w-wait...not yet--" he begs, head thrown back in ecstasy.

you haven't even done anything yet.

"sannie," you can feel him throbbing against your fingers, "baby, are you okay?"

"d-don't move." he shudders, "i m-might--"

you watch his facial expressions closely as you squeeze your fist around him, nearly drooling from the way his eyebrows scrunch together with intensity.

"oops..." you fail to hide your smile but it doesn't matter, he can't see it anyway. you swipe your thumb against the edge of his tip, massaging that sweet spot as his legs begin to shake.

you slip your other hand under his shirt, feeling up his muscled torso to his heaving chest. his skin is warm and smooth against your fingers and it makes you want to leave pretty marks all over him.

his back arches when you lazily drag your index finger against his nipple. you circle your finger around it experimentally and the needy bud hardens from your teasing touch.

"sensitive boy..." you hum.

he whimpers sweetly, "t-too much--"

you ignore his words and pinch his nipple. his mouth opens and he's barely able to take a handful of breaths before he's crying out in broken moans and thrusting against your hand. you work him through it with hushed praises, letting him fuck your fist until he's too weak to continue.

you take your other hand and run your fingers through his hair lovingly as his climax moves through him before caressing the back of his flushed neck. his overstimulated body shivers against your gentle touch, but he still leans into it.

he made a mess.

his cum spurted all over -- spilling over your hand and dripping on your lap -- so now, your pants (and his) are ruined. when san finally calms down a bit, he peeks down at the mess as well.

"i-i'm sorry, i tried to hold it in..." he stares at you with rounded eyes, sparkling with shame and embarrassment.

you tilt your head as you regard the flushed man before you, "if you're gonna be so messy, clean it up." he cowers slightly at your taunting words.

"h-how..."

you lift the hem of his shirt wordlessly and -- after a moment of confusion -- he obediently raises his arms to let you take it off. he watches on with a surprised expression as you bundle it up and use it to wipe your hands and lap.

"what? you thought i'd make you lick it up?" you tease, "didn't know you were that much of a pervert."

"i-no, i d-don't know." he stammers.

you accidentally brush against him as you're cleaning up and his body jolts harshly from the feeling. you gently move the shirt away and notice that he's still hard.

how the fuck--

he can feel your stare.

"u-um...it's..." he attempts to cover himself up with his hands, "this is normal." you throw his shirt to the side and take him by the wrists. you move his hands away and his cock twitches from your attention.

"is it?" when you look up at his face he's blushing, thoroughly embarrassed by his needy body.

"only...when i think of you." he says quietly, "y-you can just ignore it though." he stares at the way your smaller hands wrap around his wrists.

cute.

just to see what he'd do, you put his hands on your body, leading them up from your hips to your chest. he immediately gropes your tits in his large hands, letting out a pathetic noise.

"didn't know you were so insatiable..." you push him away and get off of his lap. he whines from the loss of contact but as soon as he sees you start to strip for him, he's silent, watching on in awe.

you pull off your shirt but leave your bra on -- just another way to tease and deprive him of what he wants. next, you shimmy off your pants before throwing them in his lap.

"look at the stains you left on them," you pout, "those were new." (no they weren't) "you're gonna have to buy me a new pair."

"yeah, o-ok, i'll buy you anything you want..." san ignores the pants and continues to stare at you with a cute spaced-out expression, refusing to miss even a second of you nearly naked in front of him.

he looks so good sitting there, waiting so patiently for you. his broad shoulders -- that stretch every shirt he owns -- lift every so often with the deep breaths he's taking.

his bare body is tan and fucking chiseled, you swear you could get off just grinding on his stupidly perfect abs. and the way he's keeping his hands to himself, despite how eager his cock stands for you.

when you start to approach him again, he shoves the stained clothing away to make room for you. you caress his face as you settle on top of him again.

"don't worry, baby, i'll help you."

"fuck, please."

back on top of him, you roll your hips so your covered cunt just barely grazes his hard cock. he lets out a helpless groan from the bare touch.

"oops, i forgot to take these off..." you snap the waistband of your panties against your hips, "is it okay if we just shove them to the side?" you ask, guiding his hand to feel the lace that decorates the edges.

he tugs at the fabric with thinly veiled frustration. you're surprised he hasn't lost it already. you loop your arms around his neck, letting him touch as much of you as he wants.

his hand travels under your thighs to press right over your clothed center.

"just don't mess these up too, okay?"

"i'll try my best" he presses the pads of his fingers against your cunt, feeling your wet slick soak through the thin fabric of your underwear. "f-fuck, you're already dripping."

"i'm all ready for you, sannie..." you press your hips against his hand, "you could probably just slip it right in" you whisper.

that's all the convincing it takes for him to push his hand under the fabric and run his finger against the soft lips of your cunt.

"feels good, baby~" you shove your face against the crook of his neck, mouthing and nipping against his skin. he hums gratefully at the praise -- it almost sounds like he's purring.

your slick coats his fingers as he rubs them against your sopping hole, gently pressing into you until you stretch around him. you bite your lip as he thrusts into you shallowly, barely able to finger-fuck you correctly because of how far his arm is stretched around your body.

you swear you're making a mess of his hand, dripping everywhere because of how much you want him inside of you. you pull your face away from his neck, eyes locking with his, "sannie, just fuck me."

you lift your hips up enough to press his weeping cock against you.

"b-but what about--"

you pull him in for a kiss and he immediately leans into it, melting against you once again. if you weren't so horny, you'd gush over how easy he is for you.

"don't worry, baby, i can take it."

san listens, pulling your panties to the side so he can position himself against you. he runs his cock against the seam of your cunt a few times to lubricate himself enough before slowly pushing against you. you press down at the same time, legs shaking slightly as your body stretches to accommodate his size.

"o-oh, fuck!" he chokes out, overwhelmed by the feeling of your soaking cunt sucking him in. you both moan when you sit all the way down, letting him fill you to the brim.

"mm...you fill me up so good, baby." you sigh, starting to roll your hips against him. he's so big that he presses against all the special spots inside of you with every move you make.

his hips involuntarily jerk upwards every time you lift your hips away from him, desperately needing to feel you all around him. he'd probably like cockwarming, you think -- or you would think if he wasn't fucking the thoughts from your mind.

"m-mommy, it's -- too much--" his hands wrap around your waist, squeezing faint bruises into your skin as he grapples with the feeling of your tightness fluttering around him.

your head tilts back as you speed up against him, "be good, sannie..." your breaths come out short and labored, "let mommy use your cock -- mm...fuck, yes." your mind is hazy as he hits all the right places inside of you.

he whines, pressing his face against your chest as you move against him, "i don't think i'm going to last." he twitches inside of you, already worked up to the edge.

"then go ahead," you breathe, "cum in me."

you feel the way his hips flex at the thought of filling you up, of making a mess out of you.

"i-i shouldn't..." he says -- but he's fucking up against you harder.

"why not, sannie?" you taunt, "don't want to get me pregnant?"

he lifts his head from your chest to look at you, "p-pregnant?"

"mhm," you smile down at him, "give me your babies so i can't go anywhere."

you're suddenly pressed against his hips, hard, his cock stretching you to your limit. you can feel him everywhere. you moan loudly, cunt fluttering uncontrollably from the intense pleasure he's pressing into you.

"you'd be mine?" he questions with an eager tone, almost innocently so. you can feel the way he throbs inside of you, just a touch away from tipping over the edge.

he refuses to move until you answer him.

so you try to. at least with the 1% of brain power he leaves you with.

"a-and you'd be mine." you can barely focus on the words you want to say.

san starts to shallowly thrust into you, "i'm already yours..."

"then i'm yours too."

his hands cradle your face as you continue to move against each other more desperately. he guides your face to his, pressing his lips against yours messily, teeth dragging and tongues mingling.

it's like he's only doing it to taste you. to feel you because he can't believe you're real. to claim your whole body because he can't take being away from you, even by a few centimeters.

you reach your highs together, moving perfectly in sync until you're both shaking in pleasure. you feel his hot cum fill you up, spurt after spurt -- so much in fact, you can feel it start to drip out of you, down his cock, and onto his lap.

"fuck, i might actually get pregnant from this." you say to yourself.

you feel him twitch inside of you again.

well, shit.

#san x reader #san ateez x reader #choi san x reader #san choi x reader #san smut #choi san smut #san choi smut #san ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #sub!san #sub!san x reader

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oreo-creampies · 2 months ago

Text

𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Daddy/sweetheart (toji’s and kento’s), heavy praise/taunting/teasing/encouragement/comfort, cock warming, double penetration, cream pie, making out, rubbing your clit, fondling your breasts, light pain kink for sukuna, true form!double dick!sukuna who won't admit he is jealous, biting, satosugu x reader

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: cock warming w Nanami kento 🥵

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Gently massage your neck, softly rubbing your clit. “I am sorry your day was unpleasant.” His cock twitches inside of you, he’s so deep. His cockhead gently rubbing touching cervix when you shift yourhips. It’s a perfect fit.

Clenching him, savoring that thick vein you can feel occasionally pulsing. “Being here with you is making it all better. Missed you so much daddy.” Looking up, he glides his hand down your back. Leaning down passionately kissing.

Parting your lips, Kento slips his tongue into your mouth. You adore his deep groans and the soft intimacy of cockwarming. Fondling his balls, he rubs your clit faster. Gliding your other hand into Kento’s short soft blond hair.

The way he kisses you is always so passionate and sweet, getting hungrier with each second. Whining, rocking your hips, getting off on rubbing Kento’s cock inside you. Adding more pressure to your clit, your thighs tremble.

He breaks the kiss, gentle reassuring you, “I missed you more sweetie. I’m going to spoil you for doing so well today, then cool you some dinner. Run us a hot bath, I'll make sure you're happy and relaxed for some good sleep tonight.” Slowly sliding his hand up your side, admiring your gorgeous body.

His gentle hands warm and comforting. Carefully massaging your neck with a thoughtful firmness. Soothing the ache working out the tender knots. “Mmm sweetheart you are so close aren't you? I can feel it, you feel so soft, hot, wet, getting tighter around me.” Kissing your forehead.

“Let go, relax and let Daddy take care of you. You deserve it especially, a hard day being beautiful, smart and wonderful.” Clenching Kento, warm thick cum trickling down his balls. Kento steadily rubs your clit, helping you through your peak.

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Clinging to Toji, legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck. His hard cock buried in your cunt. Lying your head on his broad shoulders breathing in Toji’s musky scent.

Gently he rubs your back, “Today was that rough huh? Proud of ya for stickin’ through, tomorrow gonna be better. It’s gonna be all about ya getting spoiled.” squeezing your hip. Carrying you into the kitchen.

Nudging the door open with his foot. The cool air of the fridge gently brushes up against your back. “I’m glad your home daddy, it really did seem like everything that could go wrong went wrong! And now all I really need is to be held.” Squeezing your cheek, effortlessly supporting you with one hand.

Toji grabs a beer out of the fridge. “I'm not letting ya go sweetheart. Can ya take the cap off.” Walking over to the trash, for you to drop the lid into, after twisting it off. He kisses your forehead, “That’s my good girl.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, clenching his throbbing cock. Closing your eyes, sliding your hand into his dark hair. Relaxing in his comforting, safe embrace.

“Where do ya wanna smoke, bedroom, living room? Daddy is gonna get you high ‘n feeling good before fucking every worry outta ya pretty lil’ head.” Kissing his neck, where your lips are tattooed, with your name beneath it.

“Bedroom.” Turning down the hallway, towards the bedroom a few steps away. Kissing Tojj’s cheek, smiling when he flushes a pale pink. “We have our toys in there in case you want to get a bit nastier.” Trailing kisses along his jaw, pausing when he takes a quick sip.

Toni croons, “You really missed me huh, kissing up on me like this. Ya haven't let me go since the second I stepped through the door. Flicking on the lamp by the bedroom door, taking your previous spot on the bed. Lifting your hips he glides you back down, effortlessly stifling your wiggles.

“You’re what I needed after a difficult job. Feeling your soft warm squishy body and hot tight. This cold beer, n’ a fat blunt you have waiting for me. ‘S making my night better.”

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 & 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

“I don't want y'all to pull out, your cum is warm inside me and if you move it will come out.” Tracing the dark lines of ink on Suguru’s thick pec. Satoru trails the tips of his fingers along your side, over the curve of your hip, tracing hearts on your thigh propped up on Suguru’s hip.

Their cocks softening, pressed together tightly by your sensitive, sore cunt. You can feel your heartbeat in your sore clit. “We can cuddle n’ cock warm as long as you’d like, sweetheart.” Suguru kisses your forehead, sliding his hand up thigh. Grabbing Satoru’s hand, slipping his thick fingers through his.

Holding onto each other, trapping you in between stuffed with their cum. Reaching back, squeezing Satoru’s ass. Red with Suguru’s handprints and your bites. Hearing Satoru whine, you glance up. Biting your lip watching them kiss, shifting your hips.

Rocking your aching, wet cunt on their half hard cocks. Kissing Suguru’s thick hard pecs, unable to reach Satoru behind you. You grab a handful of his soft hair, tugging gently. Grabbing Suguru thick muscular arm draping across your’s.

They break apart, Satoru croons, “Aw so needy, after whining you couldn't cum anymore!” Looking up at him, he leans down for a gentle kiss. Causing him to shift his hips, gliding his cock along Suguru’s in your hot, soaking wet cunt.

Moaning into the kiss, Suguru cups your breast, rubbing your nipple with a wet thumb. You can feel each swipe as a tingle in your clit. “Let’s cockwarm with our Princess till she becomes a little crybaby.” Suguru roughly kisses you the second Satoru pulls away.

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Pinning you to the bed, looming over your both holes sloppy wet and stuffed with Sukuna’s thick tattooed cocks. “Fuck me, move your cocks! I wanna cum!” His thick tongue from his stomach’s mouth flicks your sensitive, puffy clit.

“But you’re about to cum? I didn't even need to move, I can stay still feeling your beautiful hot wet cunt spasm around me like she’s pulsing.” Fondling your breasts, one of his hand’s mouth sinking in its teeth. Flicking its tongue faster than the other one.

Whimpering, whining from the sweet pain of getting toyed with by a massive muscular monster. You’re so helpless in the four arms of a two cocked monster bent on refusing to let you do more than cum on and warm his thick cocks.

He gently rolls his hips, slowly dragging his cocks just barely. Pleading, “Don’t stop! I won't go on another date! I didn't think you’d get jealous. Or that we were anything more.” He doesn't budge. You shift your hips trying to take more than half his cocks buried in your sensitive, hot cunt and tight, soaking wet ass. Sukuna presses on your stomach, pinning you to the bed.

Slowly gliding his cock in. “I’m not jealous, don't like others touching what’s mine, every part of you belong to me.” Pulling away his stomach’s tongue, the mouth stretching into a cocky smirk on his hard abs.

“Your stomach is bulging. I'm so deep in your pretty lil human cunt. It looks so beautiful taking my monster cocks.” Roughly massaging your breasts, your vision blurs. Biting your other breast, licking the bite marks on the other.

Sukuna croons, “Aw that's pathetic you’re gonna cry from not getting fucked? You need me to move that badly sweetheart. Does getting fucked by me feel that good you’re gonna cry n’ beg for it?”

Oreo’s m.list

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pixiefelixie · 28 days ago

Text

⭑.ᐟ MAKE HIM CRACK: KIM SEUNGMIN (NSFW / 18+ ONLY)

: ̗̀➛ pairing: kim seungmin x brat fem!reader and lee felix x reader : ̗̀➛ word count: ~9k

you swore seungmin never wanted you like that. you were so sure. so your boyfriend, felix makes a bet: if seungmin really doesn’t want you, then he won’t crack—no matter how hard you push. felix is sure he will. you’ve got three days to prove him wrong.

author's note: the long-awaited part two is finally here 😭 thank you so much for being patient. this is the filthiest thing i’ve ever written and i apologize…but please read part one if you haven't already. enjoy! ♡

part one: make him snap

warnings below the cut!

: ̗̀➛ warnings: harddom!seungmin, sub!reader, consented infidelity, oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, hair pulling, exhibitionism, degradation (again ik) threesome themes, getting caught

you knocked once.

the door opened before your knuckles even pulled back.

and there he was.

felix stood in the doorway wearing a white silk button-up that clung to his chest like sin and shimmered faintly every time he moved. the top two buttons were undone and his hair was swept back in that effortlessly perfect way that made you want to scream into a pillow. or maybe into his pillow.

“hi,” he said, smile soft and sunshine-warm.

you smiled so fast it hurt. “hi.”

and then you kissed him.

quick, light, full of something you were trying very hard to pretend wasn’t giddy joy. his hand found your waist the way it always did—steady, reassuring, like he couldn’t help pulling you in closer. you let him.

“i missed you,” you murmured against his cheek.

“you saw me yesterday.”

“and?”

felix grinned. “i missed you too.”

he stepped aside so you could slip inside, your hand lingering in his for just a second longer than necessary. the apartment was warm and smelled faintly like bergamot and something earthy—his body wash, maybe. the air settled around you like a hug.

normally, he’d pick you up for dates. always showing up at your door, walking you to the car like he was escorting you to prom. but tonight’s dinner spot was closer to his place than yours, so it made more sense for you to come here.

but you weren’t mad about it.

there was something about walking into his space that made you feel like you belonged there. like your toothbrush could be in his cup and your hoodie could be on his chair and it wouldn’t be weird at all.

“you look beautiful, angel,” felix said, his voice soft in that way that always made you melt a little in the knees.

you leaned in, fingers smoothing over the front of his shirt, flattening a wrinkle that didn’t really need fixing.

“and you look handsome,” you let your palm linger over his chest.

felix leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “i’m gonna grab a few more things and then we’ll go, okay?”

you nodded as he padded down the hallway, disappearing into his room. you stayed by the door, fidgeting with your dress, a smile still ghosting across your lips—until you heard it.

a voice.

muffled, but sharp. coming from the living room.

you turned, stepping lightly until seungmin came into view—half-slouched against the edge of the couch, phone to his ear, brows drawn in that low, annoyed pinch he always wore when he was trying very hard not to care about something that was obviously bothering him.

“i told you i didn’t want that. from the beginning. don’t act surprised now.”

there was a pause. a sharp sigh.

then, “alright. goodbye.”

he hung up and stood still for a beat, shoulders rigid.

then he turned and nearly jumped when he saw you standing there.

you raised an eyebrow. “you good?”

“peachy,” he muttered, slipping his phone into the pocket of his hoodie as he stepped toward the entryway.

you tilted your head, watching him reach for his sneakers. “you’re going out?”

“apparently i'm emotionally unavailable and it's suddenly a crime to not want commitment,” seungmin said dryly, crouching down to tie his laces. “so i thought i’d go for a walk.”

you blinked. “that didn’t sound like a walk kind of phone call.”

“it’s either that or drink half a bottle of soju and regret spending that night with her.”

her?

“maybe if you stopped fucking around with people, you wouldn’t have to walk it off every time one of them gets feelings.” you said, leaning against the wall with a shit-eating grin.

he stood up slowly, brushing imaginary lint from his hoodie. “is there a reason you’re always in my business?”

“is there a reason your business is always messy?”

just as he was about to reply, felix came around the corner, adjusting the watch on his wrist.

“ready to go, love?” he said, stepping beside you.

“she’s bullying me,” seungmin announced, pulling his coat on.

“sorry,” you teased.

he rolled his eyes but—there it was—that barely-there smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “i’ll live,” he muttered, zipping his coat halfway up.

as you stepped into your shoes, felix held the door open for both you and seungmin, who’d shrugged into his coat and was now pulling his hood up.

felix locked the door behind the three of you. “you going far?” he said out loud to seungmin.

“just around,” seungmin said as he paused at the edge of the sidewalk and shoved his hands into his pockets. “have a good night, you two.”

felix gave him a warm nod. “bye, min.”

you lingered for a second, eyes meeting seungmin’s just as he glanced at you. you watched him for a beat, the curve of his shoulders as he turned away to walk. he didn’t look back.

felix’s fingers slipped between yours.

you turned to him, and without a word, he lifted his eyebrows slightly.

shall we?

you smiled, breath curling in the cold air.

“we shall.”

clink.

your glasses touched with a soft chime, the candlelight bouncing off the rims and catching in felix’s eyes like glittering dusk. you took a sip of your wine—warm, smooth, just sharp enough to wake your cheeks with a pleasant burn—then set your glass down and reached across the table for his hand.

felix didn’t hesitate. his fingers curled around yours instantly, thumb brushing soft circles into your skin like he’d been waiting all night to touch you properly. you turned his hand gently, letting your lips graze over his knuckles.

you watched his hands, the careful way he moved, the way he always did everything with intention. his rings caught the candlelight again, the silver warm with reflected gold.

and maybe it was the wine.

or the fact that he hadn’t let go of your hand yet.

but your mind wandered—back to that night. that split-second where he paused, where his hands tightened on your hips and everything shifted. the tension that flared the moment seungmin slipped into the room—not physically, but in suggestion, in the space between you and felix.

you still didn’t know what kind of tension it was. good or bad. sharp with jealousy, or with something darker. felix lived in that gray space—between obsession and ownership, between fear and fascination with what you’d do next.

all you knew was that it broke him—and then made him touch you like he’d never get the chance again. the memory flickered through you like heat. the way felix had grabbed your wrists, the way his breath had gone rough and uneven, the way his voice had dropped.

your thighs pressed together under the table, and you shifted in your seat like that might help. it didn’t.

“felix,” you said quietly.

he looked up instantly.

“yes, love?” he asked, voice soft, thumb still stroking yours.

you opened your mouth, but you weren’t sure what you meant to say. his gaze stayed on you, calm and kind, but his fingers didn’t stop moving—small, deliberate circles across the back of your hand, tracing the place your pulse was skipping under your skin.

you hesitated. “does it bother you?”

his expression shifted—barely.

“what?” he said gently, like he hadn’t heard you right.

you glanced down at your joined hands, your voice barely above the soft clink of cutlery and the low hum of conversation around you.

“i just mean… seungmin. and i know we bicker.” you swallowed. “i just… i don’t know. i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it after that night with you.”

there. you said it.

not the full thing. not the part where his name had been on your lips at the wrong moment, or the way seungmin’s eyes lingered when they shouldn’t.

you ran your thumb along the side of his, nervously.

“i don’t know if you seemed bothered by it,” you said quietly. “or if you were just talking about seungmin in the moment. as part of the, you know… act.”

felix didn’t speak.

his thumb stilled.

and your heart sank just a little.

“but just so you know, seungmin and i spoke to each other the next morning.” you added quickly. “trust me, there is nothing you should be worried about. he told me that himself.”

felix stayed silent.

too silent.

his eyes didn’t leave yours, but he didn’t nod. didn’t speak.

all of the sudden, he let out a soft laugh under his breath.

you looked up fast. “why are you laughing?”

he leaned in a little, lips tilted in that warm smile—but his eyes were still on you like he was reading a book only he understood.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

his eyes searched yours. then finally—

“you know i have every reason to be worried, right?”

your breath hitched, but he shook his head, just once.

“it’s okay,” he said softly. “i’m not mad.” he never is.

he let his thumb drag across your knuckles again, slow and deliberate.

“but you have to stop pretending,” felix murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “that seungmin doesn’t want you.”

your heart stumbled. “what?”

felix looked up at you again, this time with a softness that hurt more than it helped.

“y/n,” he said, patient but firm. “come on.”

you blinked, hard. “he doesn’t,” you said, maybe too fast. “seungmin doesn’t want people. you’ve seen him—he barely tolerates women unless they’re his mom or his sister.”

“or you.” felix added.

you stared at him, throat tight. “this is crazy.”

felix still didn’t flinch.

he just watched you.

and you hated that part of you—the smallest, traitorous part—that wasn’t sure if you were trying to convince him. or yourself.

his expression didn’t change. “is it?”

you sighed, fingers curling tighter around his. “look. i’ll admit there’s something between us. okay? a pull, maybe. i don’t know. but seungmin? he’d never admit that. not to me, not to you, not to anyone. he doesn’t do that.”

felix’s smile returned then—soft, but unreadable. “doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“felix,” you said gently, “he actively looks like he wants to jump into traffic when i talk to him.”

his voice was quiet, but too clear. “and he also actively looks at you like he wants to fuck you.”

your eyes widened. your whole body jerked slightly, not from shock at the statement—but from how casually he’d said it.

you immediately looked around the restaurant. candlelit tables. a couple two seats over. someone’s mom having a birthday behind you. there are too many people in this room for him to talk like that. you leaned in fast.

“he’s too blunt,” you said. “also stubborn. i could show up naked and he’d probably throw a blanket at me and tell me to get therapy.”

felix tilted his head. “wanna bet?”

the word made something stutter in your chest.

your mind pulled back—just for a second—flashing through another bet. another night. the morning after. seungmin sliding sixty bucks across the counter.

your heart skipped. “what kind of bet?”

felix sat back slightly, finally releasing your hand only to reach for his wine. he took a slow sip, then set the glass down with precision.

“you push. just a little. if he cracks, i win.”

you stared. “and if he doesn’t?”

“then you were right,” he said simply. “and i’ll never bring it up again. either way, you’ll still get what you want. you wouldn’t mind the prize of losing either.”

your brow creased. “which is…?”

felix’s thumb brushed slow over your knuckles. his gaze didn’t waver.

“to fuck him.”

your heart lurched so hard you swore the wine in your glass rippled. your mouth opened—some reflexive denial hanging on the tip of your tongue—but nothing came out.

you went silent.

felix watched you. not smug. just certain.

“i know it,” he said gently. “you won’t say it. you won’t even admit it to yourself. but it’s there. i see it, angel.”

your skin was suddenly hot. you never wanted to admit it fully—not out loud, not yet. but the second felix had said it, something inside you had twisted tight, like your body had been holding the truth longer than your mouth could.

you wanted to see seungmin lose control. just once. wanted to know how he’d sound when he cracked. wanted to know how far felix would let this go.

you already knew the answer. as far as you wanted. as far as you needed. because felix would never say no.

he leaned in closer, voice barely above the ambient hum of the restaurant.

“and you know i’ll give you anything you want,” he murmured. “like always. right?”

you swallowed.

hard.

your brows pulled together. “what do you get out of it?”

felix tilted his head, fingers brushing gently over the top of your hand.

“seeing you happy.”

he meant it. that was the problem. he always did.

“how can you be okay with this?” you asked finally. it came out smaller than you meant it to.

felix didn’t answer right away.

instead, he reached across the table and gently took both of your hands in his, his thumbs brushing over your skin like it was delicate, precious, breakable.

“angel,” he said, voice low, “look at me.”

you did.

“i trust you,” he said. “so much.”

your throat tightened.

“whatever happens,” he continued, “whatever this is, i trust you.”

his hands squeezed yours gently, like he could feel the shake in your bones even if you weren’t showing it.

god. you loved him.

it hit you all over again, crashing through your ribs like a wave—how good he was, how much he gave without ever asking for anything in return. how he held you like you were the only person in the room, even when you were confessing something that should’ve ruined everything.

“i love you,” you whispered, because there was nothing else left to say. “you can trust me.”

felix smiled, eyes softening, voice barely above a breath.

“i know,” he said. “i love you too.”

then, with a small smile, you reached for your glass. “it’s settled.”

felix followed, his fingers brushing yours as he lifted his.

a soft clink echoed between you.

that evening, after the bet was sealed, you and felix spent the rest of dinner going over the rules. his terms were thoughtful, complex—laid out like a strategy. seungmin’s bet had been simple. blunt. a single dare and a deadline.

exactly like the two of them.

felix thought in layers. seungmin struck straight at the center.

sixty bucks was on the line—same amount as last time, because felix was sentimental like that. or maybe he just liked symmetry.

the rule was that once seungmin kisses you, it’s over.

that was the clear marker. if seungmin’s mouth touched yours with intention, felix won.

you had three days to get seungmin to crack.

three days to find out if felix was right.

the next day, you were at dance practice, watching felix from the couch like you always did when you had a free hour and he didn’t.

he loved it when you were there. said it made him move cleaner. said it made the counts feel softer. you weren’t sure about all that, but you knew his eyes flicked to you between sets.

after an hour of relentless choreography, felix finally stepped off the floor, tugging his hoodie off his head and shaking out his hair.

he slumped onto the couch beside you with a dramatic sigh and dropped his head back against the cushion, breathing hard, chest rising under the thin fabric of his shirt.

“dead,” he muttered.

you turned toward him, trying not to be affected by the way his hair clung to his forehead, the way his collar was stretched slightly, the way his entire existence was just too much up close.

“you look it,” you said, but your voice was softer than you meant it to be.

felix cracked one eye open. “compliment me better.”

“you look hot,” you replied, immediate. then, with a smile: “literally.”

he smiled. “that’ll do.”

you reached for his hand, and he let you take it, fingers still warm and damp from practice. he looked ruined in the best way—sweaty, flushed, glowing under the dim studio lights.

felix laced his fingers with yours, still breathless but smiling, his eyes glittering beneath the studio lights.

“you ready?” he asked, voice low.

your gaze flicked—just for a second—toward the door.

that had been the plan. after his practice, you’d head down the hall. seungmin’s favourite studio was three doors over.

he squeezed your hand. “you still wanna do this?”

you looked at him.

at the flush in his cheeks. the sweat on his temple. the way he was holding you like you weren’t about to walk away from him for another guy—for a bet. and still, he smiled like he wasn’t scared.

you nodded. “yeah.”

felix grinned, eyes crinkling as he leaned in and pressed a slow, sweet kiss to your mouth. his thumb brushed against your jaw like he was memorizing it.

“for luck,” he murmured, lips still against yours.

you kissed him one last time—gentle, lingering—and then stood up.

your heart was already racing as you opened the door. you slipped out into the hallway, trying not to let your nerves catch up with you.

the quiet between studios was broken only by the occasional echo of music behind thick doors and the soft hum of air conditioning overhead. you walked slowly—past mirrored practice rooms, dim rehearsal spaces—until you found it.

the recording studio.

the light above the door was red. he was in there.

you hesitated for half a second, then raised your hand and knocked. just twice. soft.

the light flicked off. a shuffle of movement. then the door cracked open, and there he was.

hoodie sleeves shoved up, hair a little messy, earbuds still dangling around his neck. he looked flushed in that way he always did when he was mid-verse—sharp focus still clinging to his features.

the second he saw you, his entire body stilled.

“oh no,” he said teasingly, as he lifted his head up.

you smiled. cheeky.

“hi, seungmin.”

he stared at you like you were a walking hazard.

“what do you want?”

you slipped past him without answering, stepping into the small recording space like you owned it. warm lights. mic still set up. monitor screen still active. his voice was probably still ringing in the headphones he’d dropped on the chair.

“felix is too busy right now,” you said, casually wandering over to the console. you didn’t look at him when you said it—just ran your fingers lightly along the edge of the soundboard. “so i thought i’d come by.”

seungmin raised an eyebrow, still standing near the door like he hadn’t decided if he was letting this happen.

“does he know you’re here?” he asked.

you glanced over your shoulder. “does it matter?”

that earned a reaction. he let out a quiet breath—something between a laugh and a scoff—and looked away, smiling to himself like he couldn’t help it.

“i can leave,” you said, feigning politeness. “if you’re busy too.”

you already knew what the answer would be. he’d never tell you to leave. not when he didn’t know what you were doing. not when he wanted to know.

“you’re fine here,” he said after a beat, tone unreadable.

you nodded once and walked toward the small couch in the corner, dropping into it and tucking your legs up underneath you.

seungmin had settled in by the console again, clicking through takes with practiced indifference. his eyes flicked to the screen, then to the levels, then—briefly—to you.

your voice was calm when you asked, “what are you working on?”

seungmin didn’t look up from the monitor. “something you wouldn’t understand.”

the words were clipped, automatic, like muscle memory.

he waited for it—the jab, the comeback. the usual volley you always threw back with precision. his lips even curled slightly, like he was preparing for your argument.

but you didn’t bite.

you just hummed, light and easy. “still sounds good from here.”

he paused.

only for a second—but you saw it. the faint flicker of confusion that passed over his face like a shadow. his hands stilled over the keyboard. then he exhaled through his nose, trying to brush it off.

“it’s a demo,” he said, eyes fixed on the monitor again. “one of my solo things. chan and i are piecing it together soon.”

you leaned your cheek into your palm, voice still soft. “that’s cool. i didn’t know you wrote on your own.”

“don’t get too impressed,” he muttered with a tune at the end.

you smiled. “wanna play it for me?”

he stared at you for a beat longer, then clicked something on the keyboard. the track played—soft at first, then heavier. clean vocals layered over a slow beat.

you listened.

when the first verse faded out, he clicked the spacebar and glanced at you again.

“i like it,” you said with a sweet smile. “you’re good at what you do.”

“great,” he sighed, lips twitching. “now i need to rewrite the whole thing.”

you laughed.

seungmin narrowed his eyes slightly, gaze flicking over your face like he was dissecting something. calculating. then—

“you hit your head on the way here or something?”

you blinked at him, all faux innocence. “why?”

seungmin narrowed his eyes. “because you’re being… nice.”

you tilted your head. “i’m always nice.”

“no, you’re not,” he said flatly, like it was fact. “you’re annoying and opinionated and loud.”

you tilted your head, pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about.

“and you’re giving me those eyes,” he said flatly.

you blinked. “what eyes?”

he turned in his chair to face you more fully, elbow propped against the armrest, expression cool—almost amused.

“the ones you give felix,” he said.

your lips parted slightly.

you blinked once. then, carefully: “i look at felix a lot of ways.”

seungmin let out a soft scoff. “you know what i’m talking about.”

for a second, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. his expression was unreadable, but his eyes stayed fixed on you. slow. intent.

“you must want something pretty bad to come here like this.” he murmured.

you hadn’t even noticed it—when he rolled closer, when the space between you shrank like it’d always meant to. but now he was there. close. you could still pretend. there was still distance. technically.

but the placement was deliberate. he was leaned back in his chair like he wasn’t doing anything at all—but his legs were spread just enough to keep you boxed in, and his gaze hadn’t flickered away once.

you glanced at the door. just for a second. just long enough to remember why you were here. seungmin’s gaze tracked yours before turning to look at you again.

then, gently, he nudged your knee with his. it was barely a touch. just pressure. but it sent a shiver straight up your spine. because seungmin didn’t touch you. not ever. not even in passing. for obvious reasons. and now he had.

his voice was quiet. low. “what is it that you want?”

you met his gaze. let the silence stretch for one breath. two.

then you leaned forward.

just a little.

just enough to close the gap that he’d left open on purpose. your fingers found the edge of his sleeve—brushed lightly against the skin of his forearm, right where it met the crook of his elbow. barely there. a whisper of a touch.

but it was enough to make him still.

“i thought it would help,” you said. “making felix snap. hearing him say those words. letting him… do those things.”

your eyes flicked up to meet his. steady. careful.

“maybe it wasn’t him i needed to hear it from.” you whispered.

seungmin smiled. a little too calm.

he reached out and took your wrist.

“you’re sick,” he said, voice like silk wrapped around a knife.

and then, still watching you, he slid your hand off his arm and set it down on your lap like it didn’t belong to him. like he was returning borrowed property.

“don’t do that,” you said, voice steady. “don’t act like this is nothing.”

seungmin didn’t flinch.

“you and i…” you started again, slower, willing him to look at you, to hear it the way you meant it. “there’s something here.”

he just nodded. once. small.

“i know,” he said simply.

you froze.

that wasn’t the answer you were ready for. not that easy. not that fast.

you opened your mouth—but nothing came out. because what the hell were you supposed to say to that? seungmin looked at you like he’d already made peace with it. like knowing was the problem.

and then he turned away.

“i think you should leave, y/n.”

the words landed like cold water.

your chest pulled tight. “what?”

his back was to you now, already returning to the console, like the entire conversation had just been a brief distraction between takes.

“i have a bridge to finish,” he said.

you exhaled slowly. a soft, frustrated sound that barely made it to him.

then you stood. your feet felt heavy. you couldn’t do it. not this time.

you reached the door, hand on the knob—and paused.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, seungmin.”

he didn’t answer. even after the door shut.

the next day came slower than it should have.

not because time dragged—but because your thoughts did. through every class, every errand, every moment you found yourself alone. they looped like static.

maybe he really won’t crack.

it wouldn’t be the worst thing.

you were the one who bet against the possibility. you’d get your sixty bucks for the second time, felix would wrap his arms around you and say something like, “guess i was wrong, huh?”—and he’d mean it softly, not bitterly. you’d curl into him and pretend this whole thing didn’t matter. like it wasn’t keeping you up at night.

it wouldn’t hurt. not really..

but if it had just been about winning, you wouldn’t be thinking about the way he looked at you yesterday when you were speaking to him. you wouldn’t be remembering the way he’d leaned forward—like if he moved any closer, he might forget himself.

your phone buzzed beside you. tonight’s plan was rolling.

felix: seungmin told me he’s on his way home. you’ve got him alone for at least an hour. you got this angel.

not even five minutes later, you heard the sound of the door unlocking. the quiet creak of hinges. the soft thud of shoes meeting the floor.

your heart jumped. immediate.

you straightened on the couch, as you heard the unmistakable shuffle of seungmin’s footsteps.

then—

“y/n?”

his voice.

you turned, slow, casual. like you hadn’t been listening for it all night.

“hi,” you said, voice light. innocent.

he blinked at you from the hallway entrance. hair a little messy like he’d run his hands through it too many times.

“you’re here,” he said flatly.

you nodded, tucking your legs a little closer into the couch. “felix said i could stay until he got back. hope that’s okay.”

“yeah,” seungmin muttered, voice low as he stepped further into the room. “it’s fine.”

he didn’t look at you. just dropped his bag near the door, kicked off his shoes, and made his way to the couch. he collapsed beside you. dropped down like gravity had yanked him too hard, head thrown back against the cushion, long legs spread carelessly in front of him.

you stayed quiet for a second as your eyes trailed his body. from the visible bulge outlined by his grey sweatpants to the thin layer of sweat on his neck. you watched the way his chest rose and fell. the way his jaw clenched. the faint crease between his brows that hadn’t eased since he walked in.

“…are you okay?” you asked.

he didn’t answer right away. just reached up and dragged a hand over his face, fingers pressing into his eyes like he could scrub out the entire day.

“no.”

you blinked. that was rare. seungmin didn’t do no.

he didn’t do honest.

you shifted toward him slightly. “do you wanna talk about it?”

“no.”

okay, so not that honest.

you waited. let the silence stretch, let the question hang in the space like a hook. you knew he’d bite eventually.

and sure enough, a few seconds later:

“am i manipulative?” he asked, bluntly.

you hesitated. “i… don’t think so?”

he didn’t look convinced.

“i showed up to fuck, and she started talking about feelings again. i said i didn’t want that, and she said i’d led her on.” he said.

you stilled. the girl. the one from the phone call. the one you’d overheard him arguing with the other night.

“i said i didn’t want that from the start,” he said, sharp now. “she asked me to come over. i didn’t chase her. i never promised anything.”

his fingers flexed against his thighs, knuckles pale from tension. he was still staring at you—jaw set, eyes sharp—but something in the way his hands twitched told you he was barely holding himself together.

and maybe it was awful, maybe it made you just a little bit cruel, but—god—he looked good like this.

you’d always known seungmin was attractive in that quietly devastating kind of way. not the type to flaunt it. not the type to notice it. but it hit harder when he was like this—on edge, breathing hard, frustration leaking out of him in little cracks that let you see what he usually kept hidden.

he was always so composed. always in control.

but now?

now he looked like he wanted to break something. or someone.

and your stomach flipped at the thought that maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t mind being the thing he lost it on.

“you were clear. that’s not manipulative. that’s just… knowing what you want.”

he scoffed, dry and bitter. “yeah, well, apparently that makes me an asshole.”

“only to people who think they can change your mind.”

his jaw twitched.

“i think,” you said carefully, eyes trained on the tension in his fingers, “you need someone who respects that you don’t want any strings attached.”

once he heard your words, his hands finally unclenched. then—he moved. he turned to face you fully, his upper body propped up on his arm that is behind your head.

he’s going to crack tonight.

you knew it with the kind of certainty that hit low in your stomach. he was too wound up from whatever that argument was. he hadn’t even gotten the sex he wanted, and now all that leftover tension was sitting under his skin, burning holes through his composure.

and you were right here. in front of him. saying the exact things he didn’t know he wanted to hear.

his eyes flicked down your face, landing on your mouth for just a second too long. when he looked back up, something in him had shifted. still calm—but only on the surface. below that, he was simmering. mad. worked up. and probably half-hard just from frustration alone.

“you’re good at pretending you can handle things,” he said. “but i don’t think you really know what you’re doing.”

“then show me.”

his jaw flexed, like he was trying to bite down the part of him that wanted to respond. but he didn’t pull away. didn’t call your bluff.

you reached out—slow, deliberate—and placed your hand on his chest, right over the thin fabric of his shirt. he sucked in a breath so sharp you felt it beneath your palm. his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, jaw clenched like he was trying not to let it show how much that one touch rattled him.

but it did.

you were doing something to him.

he opened his eyes again, darker now, pupils blown. his hand lifted and curled around the back of your neck, fingers warm and steady, grounding you—but also pulling you in. his gaze dropped to your lips.

then back up.

he was going to kiss you.

he leaned in—closer, closer—until your noses brushed, until you could feel the heat of his mouth hovering a breath away from yours. your lips parted. your pulse screamed.

he stopped.

“we can’t,” he muttered, low and strained.

you blinked, confusion punching through your haze. “what?”

“we can’t,” he said again, eyes locked on yours like he needed you to believe him. like he didn’t believe himself. “you’ll regret it.”

frustration surged in your chest. you could see it—he wanted this. he wanted you. he just couldn’t let himself fall first.

so you moved.

you climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs, straddling him with quiet defiance. his breath hitched immediately, hands flying to your hips like instinct.

“then stop me,” you whispered, cupping his face gently. “tell me you don’t want this.”

his eyes darted across your face, his jaw tightening again like it hurt to stay still.

“you can’t,” you added, voice barely above a breath. “because you do.”

his hands tightened just slightly on your hips, enough to make you feel the restraint buzzing beneath his skin. his gaze didn’t leave yours, but the heat in it dulled, shaded by something heavier. guilt. conflict.

“i’m not doing that to felix,” he said finally, voice low and tight.

the words hit harder than you expected. not because he was rejecting you—but because you knew he meant it. because even like this—left frustrated, horny, with your body pressed against his—he still respected his best friend too much to cross the line.

if only he knew this was a bet made by said best friend.

your fingers slipped from his face, settling against the base of his throat instead, your thumbs resting gently there as you searched his expression.

“what if…” you started carefully, “what if it wasn’t felix?”

his brows lifted just barely. “then you wouldn’t have to try so hard.”

you blinked.

you stared at him for a long beat. at the lips you wanted. the eyes you couldn’t read. the softness in his hands, even as he held you still. his heart was thudding beneath your palm, loud and uneven. just like yours.

“i won’t tell him,” seungmin said quietly. “this stays between us.”

“you won’t?”

he shook his head, gaze steady. “no.”

then, softer—warning:

“but if you do this again…” his hands slid just barely along your sides, almost like he couldn’t stop himself. “if you get this close again, i won’t be able to hold back.”

you were fine with that.

you had one night left.

one night before the bet ended. before sixty bucks went into your hands. before you were supposed to laugh it all off and say well, that was fun after having failed to seduce kim seungmin.

you didn’t care about the bet anymore.

you hadn’t for a while.

you wanted seungmin to crack.

tonight was your last shot.

this time, you went straight to the dorm.

you knocked once.

it was late. the kind of late where the hallway felt too quiet and your pulse was too loud in your ears. you didn’t tell felix. didn’t plan anything. just showed up.

the door creaked open.

and there he was. hair wet, still towel-draped across his shoulders. a muted blue t-shirt clinging a little at the collar, grey sweats riding low.

seungmin’s eyes swept over you once. then again, slower. then he leaned against the frame like he was already tired of whatever this was.

“felix isn’t here,” he said flatly.

you didn’t answer right away.

he knew what this was.

“but he will be,” seungmin said eventually, voice quieter now, like he was warning you. or warning himself. “you should come back later,”

his voice didn’t match the words. it was too soft. like a door half-closed, not locked. his eyes didn’t leave you. didn’t flick to the clock or the hallway. they just stayed on yours—dark, unreadable, and a little too steady for someone who wanted you gone.

you didn’t move.

then, without looking away, he stepped back.

you stepped in.

the air shifted the second you crossed the threshold, as if the room itself braced for impact. you heard the soft thud of the door clicking shut behind you, and you stood there—just for a moment—so close to him now it made your skin buzz.

“y/n.”

his voice was low. too low. careful in a way that made your stomach tighten.

“yeah?”

seungmin didn’t answer right away.

“does felix know you’re here?”

the same question as last time.

and before you could even open your mouth to throw up a dodge, he added—

“don’t give me that indirect shit again.”

you froze.

his eyes were on you, dark and direct, gaze locked like he’d been building to this. there was something in it that looked almost like fear—coiled under the frustration, under the sharp jaw and the tense shoulders. he looked so hot like that—torn between doing the right thing and wanting to be selfish.

you exhaled, voice small. “no.”

seungmin didn’t move. his jaw clenched.

then he nodded, slow and sharp, like he’d known the answer already and just needed you to confirm it.

“right,” he muttered.

and then he reached for his phone.

you reacted instantly.

your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist before he could unlock the screen.

“wait.”

seungmin stilled. his thumb hovered over the button. his gaze didn’t lift. “i’m gonna call him.”

“no,” you said, fast, breath catching. “don’t.”

your fingers curled around his wrist, tight.

“i love felix,” you said suddenly.

seungmin blinked, something in his face tightening like he hadn’t expected that. like he didn’t know what you were about to do with it.

you didn’t either.

“i do,” you repeated, slower this time, like you were trying to convince yourself. “he’s good to me. sweet. kind.”

seungmin stayed quiet, but his jaw set, and you could tell he was waiting. bracing.

“but you,” you said. “i hate the way you look at me. i hate the way you talk to me like i’m a child who doesn’t know what she wants.” you took a step closer, your voice low now. “but maybe you were right.”

seungmin didn’t flinch.

“maybe i am sick,” you said. “because felix is soft and patient and perfect—and you’re not. and that’s why i’m here again.”

you were close now.

“maybe i don’t want sweet right now,” you whispered. “maybe i need someone who can ruin me a little.”

his breath hitched.

“why do you think i enjoyed it so much,” you murmured, eyes locked on his, “when felix was mean to me that night?”

seungmin’s gaze sharpened like a blade drawn too fast.

“you think that’s something to be proud of?” seungmin said, voice low, biting.

then he stepped toward you.

once.

twice.

and you stepped back on instinct until your spine hit the wall with a soft thud. the air thinned immediately, like it couldn’t squeeze between your bodies anymore.

his eyes were burning into you now. sharp. angry. too full for someone pretending not to care.

“you’re pathetic,” he muttered. “you show up here, say you love him, say you hate me, and now you want what—pity? attention? to get fucked by the guy you can’t stop pushing?”

you didn’t flinch. just tilted your chin up, gaze steady.

you smiled. it was the kind of smile that came from knowing exactly which wire you’d just cut, and hearing the bomb tick faster.

because seungmin had cracked.

the second his composure slipped—when the line in his jaw tightened, when his voice dropped into something raw and reckless—you knew.

you’d broken him.

and now he was right in front of you.

towering.

his chest rose and fell fast. his shoulders were tense, caging you in like he didn’t trust himself to move. his eyes were unreadable now. burned out from trying not to feel and failing anyway.

“you’re so mad at me,” you said, voice quiet but taunting. “you look at me like you hate me, but you keep getting closer and closer to me. isn’t that a little…”

you smiled, just enough to sting.

“manipulative?”

that broke something.

seungmin surged forward, his mouth crashing into yours without warning. the kiss was messy, hard, teeth clashing—and you gasped into it, breath catching in your throat as his hand tangled in your hair and pulled, just enough to make you feel it.

you’d done it.

even if you lost the sixty bucks—this was what you wanted.

him, like this.

you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, lips swollen, eyes wild, and seungmin’s hand still fisted in your hair like he wasn’t ready to let go.

felix got you what you wanted. god, you loved felix.

but seungmin was here. right now. and you were past pretending that didn’t matter.

his mouth was still hovering near yours, breath ragged. you were still panting, your chest brushing his with every breath, drunk off the taste of him—head spinning from how hard he’d kissed you, how deep the pull in his voice had gotten.

and then, because you never learned, you pushed again.

“you suck at commitment,” you whispered, just loud enough for the words to crack between your bodies.

his eyes lifted. sharpened.

“so of course the thing that gets you off is fucking your best friend’s girl.” you murmured, that bratty smile creeping back, slow and venomous.

his jaw flexed, and his grip in your hair tightened, but firm like he was warning you not to push further.

you pushed anyway.

“you’re just waiting for him to fuck up so you can sweep in and take whatever’s left of me, aren’t you?” you tilted your head, voice like silk-wrapped poison. “or maybe you just like being the one thing i’d never admit to wanting. the one i should stay the hell away from.”

“shut the hell up.”

you barely had time to blink before the hand in your hair yanked, sharp enough to drag a breathless gasp out of you, neck craning with the force of it. his other hand gripped your waist, fingers digging into the curve of your hip as he pressed in closer, until there wasn’t a single inch between you.

“you think i’m here because i want to be some dirty secret?” his voice was a low, guttural rasp, so close to your ear you felt it more than heard it. “you think i give a fuck about winning you over? i’m here because you won’t fucking stop.”

he twisted your hair tighter. you whimpered.

“you come to my door, night after night, eyes all big, talking about how much you ‘love’ felix while you practically beg me to wreck you. you play innocent until i call you out, and then you play victim when i do.” his breath was hot against your neck now, mouth brushing the skin there, just barely. “you want to be used. you want to be put in your place.”

your fingers curled into the front of his shirt, stubborn even now, even as your pulse skittered like a cornered thing under your skin. you knew the look in his eyes. knew what came next. but you still couldn’t resist the bite.

“you think i’m begging for you?” you breathed, voice laced with mockery, the kind of tone that always made his temper spark. “you’re the one holding me like you’re about to come in your pants.”

he didn’t say a word.

just slid one hand down your thigh, slow and deliberate, then bent his knee and shoved it up between your legs.

your breath punched out in a shocked whimper as his thigh pressed firm against your core, forcing your hips to roll against it. you bucked without meaning to try to chase the pressure.

“mmhm,” seungmin murmured, his voice dark and low, head tilted so his mouth brushed your temple. “that shut you up.”

you made a small, desperate sound, your forehead falling forward, burying in the crook of his neck as your fingers fisted tighter in his shirt.

“you’re so loud until i do something about it,” he said, voice vibrating against your skin, his arms tightening around you. “that bratty little mouth just runs and runs—but look at you now.”

he shifted his leg just enough to drag it against you again. the friction sent another whine crawling out of your throat—high and pathetic—and your hips jerked, grinding down on instinct.

he exhaled a laugh, mean and quiet.

“that’s what i thought.”

you tried to lift your head, tried to snarl something back—anything—but he beat you to it, dragging his lips down the side of your face in a taunting, too-soft kiss.

“don’t start,” he warned, just above a whisper.

then his hands were back on your waist, strong and certain, and before you could even protest he hoisted you up—effortless—like you weighed nothing at all. you gasped, arms looping around his neck, legs instinctively locking around his waist as he walked you across the room.

he dumped you onto the couch and the cushions barely bounced before he was on you again.

seungmin climbed over you, arms bracketing your shoulders as his mouth descended. his lips crashed into yours, breath hot and wild, tongue slick as it parted your mouth and stole the air from your lungs.

you moaned into it as his hand found your jaw, thumb swiping your cheekbone as he tilted your head just the way he wanted.

and then you were moving.

your fingers fumbled at the hem of your shirt—thin, soft cotton stretched from how tightly it clung to you. you broke the kiss for only a second, just long enough to yank the thing over your head. you dropped the shirt somewhere and lay back in just your bra, chest rising fast, skin flushed and exposed.

seungmin’s eyes dropped immediately. his breath caught. his hand followed, dragging from your throat down between the swell of your breasts, pausing over the center of your bra. his thumb brushed the fabric, then pressed—slow, heavy—watching the way you squirmed beneath him, lips parted and eyes half-lidded.

“you know how long i’ve wanted to see you like this?” he muttered, voice dark with hunger, words rumbling low in his chest as he leaned in and kissed just above your heart, then down, slower, pressing his mouth to the tops of your breasts like he wanted to memorize the way they rose under him. “fucking teasing me for days—saying things like that. all those stupid little games.”

his fingers found the clasp of your bra like he’d done it a hundred times in his head—deft, practiced, no fumbling. just a subtle flick and it came undone, the straps slipping from your shoulders like silk unraveling.

seungmin exhaled like the sight of you finally, completely naked from the waist up had knocked the breath clean out of him. his hands moved to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. and then he leaned in again, mouth hot and open as he kissed between them, then circled your left nipple with his tongue, teasing and wet, before he wrapped his lips around it and sucked.

a sharp gasp cracked out of you, and your fingers twisting in the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging.

he pulled off your breast with a soft pop, breath damp against your skin. “why so impatient?” he murmured, almost amused.

“i want your cock,” you said, no shame, voice breathy and sharp, like it hurt to wait anymore.

his lips quirked into something wicked. “yeah?”

you nodded, hard, grinding your hips up into him as your hand finally slipped under the waistband of his sweats. he hissed the second your fingers brushed him, already thick, already hot and twitching against his stomach through his boxers. but before you could go further, he grabbed the hem of his shirt behind his neck and pulled—one smooth motion, the fabric dragging up and over his body.

your mouth went dry.

toned, tight muscle rippled under taut skin, the faint sheen of sweat catching in the low light, highlighting his collarbones, the sculpt of his chest, the sharp cut of his abs.

you surged up before he could say another word, catching his mouth in another kiss. your hand curled into the back of his neck, pulling him down as you rose onto your knees, chest to chest, skin flushed and searing. the contact made you whimper—fuck, you could feel how hard he was against you, thick and pulsing through the last thin layer of fabric between you.

seungmin kissed you back just as fiercely, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your waist like he needed to anchor himself or risk unraveling completely. but then you felt his hand shift—lower—and a second later, you heard the soft rustle of elastic being dragged down.

your breath hitched.

you broke the kiss and looked down, watching as he palmed himself once through his boxers, then pushed them down and freed his cock.

long. hard. already leaking at the tip.

your lips parted in a soft, unintentional moan. but you didn’t wait.

you kicked your shorts the rest of the way off, now in just your panties, the wet cotton clinging to the slick heat between your thighs. then you pushed at his chest with both hands and he let you, letting his body fall back against the couch, legs spread wide, arms resting on the back like he was trying to pretend he wasn’t completely at your mercy.

you slid down between his legs.

he blinked. “what are you—”

you didn’t answer.

just wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, firm and slow, watching his reaction like it was the only thing that mattered. his breath stuttered the second you touched him—his hips jerked slightly, thighs tightening—and then you leaned in and licked a stripe up the underside, from the base to the leaking tip, slow and wet and intentional.

his whole body flinched.

“shit—”

you smirked against him.

and then took him into your mouth.

the groan he let out was sharp and low, a barely-muted “fffuck,” as your lips wrapped around the head and your tongue swirled, tasting the salt and heat of him. his hand flew to your hair immediately, not pushing, not guiding—just holding, fingers flexing tight like he couldn’t believe you were really doing this.

you bobbed your head lower, taking more of him in, your jaw stretching around the length, spit slicking your lips as you hollowed your cheeks and moved slow, teasing. he was big—thick, veiny, and already twitching—and every time you slid down farther, his head tipped back just a little more, breath coming harder through clenched teeth.

his fingers tightened in your hair—and then he moved. just slightly at first, a nudge, then a firmer grip as he began to guide the motion of your head, not gently anymore. his other hand came up, threading in from the opposite side, both fists tangled in your hair now like reins. he didn’t ask. he just took control.

“that’s it,” seungmin muttered, voice gone thick and gravelled with lust. “look at you.”

you moaned around him, mouth stuffed full, throat tightening as he eased you lower, deeper, until your nose brushed the skin of his abdomen. your hands clutched at his thighs for balance, fingernails digging into hard muscle as your body worked to adjust to the pressure, the stretch, the overwhelming heat of him.

“sick little slut,” he said, dragging you off slow just to watch the string of spit stretch from your lips to his tip. “you love this. love how wrong it is. god, it’s fucking wrong—and you’re making me love it too.”

he slapped his cock against your tongue, twice, the sound slick and sharp. and then he shoved you back down.

his breath started to hitch—just barely at first, the rhythm of his hips losing their even tempo, those slow, punishing thrusts breaking into shallower, hungrier jolts. you felt him twitch against your tongue. heard the roughness crack into his voice when he breathed out, “shit… fuck…”

your gaze lifted, watery eyes blinking up at him from beneath your lashes.

“keep looking at me,” he growled. “fuck—don’t you dare look away.”

you didn’t. you couldn’t.

not when he looked like that—hair messy, chest heaving, sweat beading at his brow, so close to breaking. he was so fucking hot when he lost control. even hotter trying not to.

“your throat’s so perfect,” he moaned, low and wrecked, a sharp breath hitching through his chest. “i’m gonna come—fuck, i’m gonna fucking come—”

you moaned around him, squeezing your thighs together, letting him hold you down on his cock as the tension in his body snapped taut.

“take it. all of it,” he panted, staring you down, voice ragged.

his hips bucked once, twice—deep—and then he groaned, a sharp, guttural sound that punched out of him as he came. the heat of it flooded your mouth in thick, pulsing waves, and his grip stayed firm, keeping you down, watching as you took every drop just like he told you to.

he looked divine like that—head tipped back slightly, mouth open, moaning low as he spilled into you, owning you completely.

and even when his grip loosened, even when he finally let you breathe, he didn’t stop looking at you. watching. daring you to spit it out.

you didn’t.

you swallowed. every drop.

you pulled off slow, lips dragging over the sensitive head, tongue giving one last lazy swirl as he twitched again, shivering with the aftershocks. your mouth parted, a slick strand of spit and fluid stretching between your lips and the tip of his cock.

seungmin’s breath hitched.

his hands slid from your hair, but only to cup your jaw, tilting your face up so he could see the mess he’d made. his eyes dropped to your mouth, then back to the string still connecting you, lips swollen, chin wet, throat flushed.

“holy fuck,” he whispered, almost to himself. “you’re unreal.”

he groaned again—softer this time, a sound dragged from deep in his chest—and leaned forward, hand still at your face, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. you smiled and he kissed you hard, tasting himself on your tongue.

his mouth was still on yours, when his hand drifted lower—tracing the curve of your jaw, down your neck, over your chest, sliding across sweat-slick skin until it gripped your hip again with a kind of lazy command that made your stomach flip.

then lower.

his fingers found the waistband of your panties, still clinging to you, soaked through from everything he hadn’t even touched yet. he hooked them slow, curling his fingers into the fabric at both hips, and when he pulled, it wasn’t gentle.

they peeled down your thighs until you kicked them off completely, bare now—finally, fully—for him.

seungmin’s eyes raked down your body, slow and consuming, breath still coming hot from the kiss, lips slick from where they’d just tasted everything you gave him. his hands braced on your thighs, spreading them wider as he knelt between them, eyes locking on the soaked, glistening heat between your legs like he hadn’t just come down your throat.

“fuck,” he muttered, almost breathless, one hand dragging down his own stomach as he stared. “look at you.”

you were laid bare—flushed, panting, legs open and trembling slightly from the weight of everything that had already happened. but none of it compared to the way he looked now—his cock thick and hard again, already red at the tip. he gripped the base with one hand, slowly stroking, lazy and threatening, letting it drag against your folds—just enough to make you gasp, hips twitching toward him.

“you want this?” he murmured, low and sharp.

you nodded, fast. “please.”

he raised a brow. “please what?”

“please fuck me,” you said, voice shaky.

that crooked smile returned, pure smug satisfaction curling his mouth as he pressed the head of his cock just barely inside, enough to make your breath catch and your thighs clamp tighter around his hips.

“you’re dripping,” he muttered, leaning over you again, one hand catching the back of your knee and pushing it higher so he could slot himself closer, deeper. “haven’t even put it in yet and you’re this messy for me? where’d all that attitude go, huh?”

you gasped as he pushed in just an inch and then stopped, holding there, watching your face twist, your fingers clawing at his back.

“thought you were a brat,” he teased, biting down gently on your earlobe. “now you’re just some ruined little thing that can’t even pretend not to want it.”

“please,” you whimpered again, thighs trembling. “please—seungmin—just—”

then, a sound hit like a gunshot through the haze.

click. the distinct metallic thud of the front door unlocking.

seungmin froze.

his cock was still buried barely an inch inside you, his body caging yours, breath hot against your throat—but now he wasn’t moving. his fingers clenched reflexively around your thigh, and his head whipped toward the sound—eyes wide, jaw tight, every inch of him tensed like a predator caught mid-kill.

“fuck,” he whispered, sharp and guttural.

and then felix stepped into the room.

he stopped dead.

you tilted your head, still panting, still flushed, and looked straight at felix with a sweet, soft smile—like he’d just come home early from work and not walked in on you mid-fuck with his best friend.

“hi,” you breathed, syrupy, warm.

felix stared.

not at you.

at seungmin.

his gaze was unreadable for a second—stone still, lips parted just enough to show how hard he was breathing. his eyes dropped, scanned the scene: your bare thighs wrapped around seungmin’s waist, the blanket crooked and useless, the telltale sheen of sweat across your chest and collarbones. and then up—past the terror in seungmin’s jaw, past the panic in his shoulders—to the guilt smoldering behind his eyes.

“i knew you liked her,” felix said finally, voice low. too calm. “didn’t think you’d actually end up fucking her.”

seungmin’s mouth opened—but nothing came out.

felix took a slow step forward, arms relaxed at his sides, expression unreadable. his voice didn’t change, but his eyes… those burned. you sucked in a breath, but felix didn’t look at you. not yet. his eyes were locked on seungmin like a predator closing in.

“i didn’t think you’d ever give in,” he murmured, tone going cold.

seungmin started, low and hoarse, like he couldn’t stand the fact that felix was seeing this. “i didn’t mean for—”

“didn’t mean for what?” felix cut in, still moving, slow and casual, until he stood right at the edge of the couch. “didn’t mean to let her suck you like a fucking plaything?”

seungmin’s fists clenched in the blanket.

“you were supposed to resist, man,” he said, eyes narrowing as he took another step closer. “that was the whole point. she comes to you, she tests you, you turn her away—and then we laugh about it later. that was the game. right?”

seungmin’s eyes finally dropped to your face.

and something in them changed.

because he saw it.

the tilt of your head, the shine in your eyes—not guilt, but delight. your lips parted just so, chest rising soft and slow beneath the half-thrown blanket, fingers tangled in seungmin’s hair like you were comfortable. like you’d planned to be here.

he blinked once. slowly.

and then again, faster—realization crashing over him like cold water doused on a flame that had never stopped burning.

“you…” his voice broke off, low and rough. “you set me up.”

you looked up at him through your lashes—wide, sweet, the perfect picture of breathless innocence twisted by the filth still dripping between your thighs. and then you turned your head to felix, eyes glinting, lips curling into something soft and fake and begging.

“felix…” you whined, the kind of pretty pout that always got you whatever you wanted. “he’s so big…”

felix exhaled—his hand dragging up the side of his neck like he was trying not to smile.

you squirmed under seungmin, hips rolling just enough to feel the stretch of him again, and seungmin’s breath stuttered. your eyes fluttered closed as you sighed, like your own body was confirming the betrayal.

“feels so good already.” you whispered, and then looked back at felix. seungmin’s fingers dug into your thigh. hard. “i know you’ll let me,” you breathed. “please… don’t stop him.”

that did it.

seungmin swore under his breath, low and feral, staring down at you like he didn’t know whether to fuck you harder or get the hell out of his own skin. but his hips moved.

slightly. just once.

felix sat down in the armchair across from you both, legs spread, eyes dark and burning with something closer to pride than rage.

“go on then,” he said, voice low and satisfied.

seungmin’s eyes never left felix, rage flaring behind them so fierce it looked ready to combust.

“you fucking knew,” he growled, voice a snarl through clenched teeth. “you knew she’d do this. you let her.”

felix didn’t flinch. just sat back, calm, the barest hint of a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. “i wanted her to.”

that was it.

seungmin’s control snapped like a wire pulled too tight—and he slammed into you, hard, burying himself to the hilt with a brutal snap of his hips that drove a loud, shocked moan from your throat. “this what you wanted to see?”

his grip locked on your thighs, hauling your hips up as he fucked into you again, and again—deep, fast, punishing. the couch jolted beneath you with each thrust, your hands scrabbling against his arms, his shoulders, nails sinking into sweat-slick skin as your back arched and your mouth fell open.

felix’s gaze slid from seungmin’s face to yours. his smile widened.

“she’s so loud when she’s getting what she needs, isn’t she?”

he slammed into you again—harder. you cried out, head tipping back, the sound raw, obscene.

“you’re both fucked,” seungmin snarled, but his voice cracked mid-word because of the way your cunt clenched around him.

you couldn’t speak—couldn’t think—every inch of you reduced to a moaning, shaking mess under him. your legs locked around his waist and your fingers clutched his back, your breath coming in broken sobs of pleasure as he drove into you like he hated you.

you barely noticed felix moving—until he was closer. right at the edge of the couch, one hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking as he stared down at you. his eyes never left your face—how your lips parted with every thrust, how your gaze trembled between him and seungmin like you couldn’t decide where you wanted to be more.

“god, look at you,” felix murmured, voice dark with want.

you blinked up at him, lips glossy, eyes dazed but hungry.

“feels so good, lix,” you gasped, barely able to speak between the rhythm of seungmin pounding into you.

felix’s hand slowed for a second, breath catching.

felix’s voice dipped closer, the edge of amusement curling around the heat in it. “yeah?” he murmured, eyes dragging down your body like he owned it—like he always had.

you nodded, lips trembling, breath shattered. he leaned in, and his mouth caught yours—hot, hungry, tasting every broken moan that seungmin fucked out of you. his tongue tangled with yours, messy and deep, just as seungmin’s hand slid down your front, his palm pressing into your lower belly, fingers slipping lower until they found your clit.

you cried out against felix’s mouth, legs twitching, hips bucking, body burning from both ends. the kiss broke with a wet gasp, your head lolling back against the couch as your eyes rolled slightly, your moans loud and unfiltered now.

felix chuckled low, wiping a strand of spit from your chin with his thumb. “you’re such a fucking mess,” he said, voice rich with amusement.

seungmin let out a laugh as well—dark, breathless, as he ground into you harder, fingers relentless on your clit. his cock slammed into you, thick and unrelenting, the heat of him spreading molten through your stomach with every drag along your inner walls. you were gasping now, clawing at his shoulders, eyes fluttering.

“seungmin, fuck, i’m… i’m close,” you choked out, voice high and shattered.

his gaze snapped down to yours and that smirk came back. “gonna come from this?”

you whimpered, nodding fast, barely able to breathe. “yes, yes—please don’t stop,”

“fuuuck, listen to you,” he hissed, hips slamming forward, burying himself to the hilt again and again. his breath came rough and fast, sweat beading at his temples, jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack.

you felt yourself shatter, your cries were coming faster now, breathless, frantic, slurred through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation.

seungmin pressed his lips to you, his mouth crashed against yours like he was devouring you, lips bruising, tongue sliding in with filthy desperation. you moaned into him, loud and helpless, your body seizing beneath his as your orgasm hit—white-hot and blinding.

your cunt clenched around him, fluttering tight, wringing every inch of him as your hips jerked, stars exploding behind your eyes. your cry stuttered around his tongue as he swallowed every sound, kissing you through it, keeping you pinned.

above you, felix groaned.

his hand was tangled in your hair now, stroking the strands as his other pumped his cock in long, slow strokes. he watched you come undone with his eyes half-lidded, jaw slack, breath stuttering as his thumb traced lazy circles against your scalp like you were some obedient pet.

“fuck, you look perfect like this,” he muttered. “ruined and full…”

seungmin grunted, low and desperate, hips faltering as your walls kept clenching around him. his rhythm stuttered—and then he pulled out fast, a gasp torn from his throat as he wrapped his hand around his cock.

he jerked once, twice—and then his cum spurted hot across your stomach, up across your ribs, warm and sticky against your skin. his moan was deep, feral, drawn-out as his eyes rolled and hips twitched.

you lay there, panting, dazed, your body still twitching from the aftershocks—and then another groan.

felix stepped closer.

one hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing your lips as he stroked himself with the other, his cock thick and glistening. he looked down at your face—flushed, breathless, mouth wet from seungmin’s kiss—and that did it.

he came with a snarl, thick white ropes streaking your cheek, your lips, your chin—painting your flushed skin like he owned every inch of it. his hand stayed on your face the whole time, thumb rubbing over the mess like he was proud of it, eyes fixed on you like you were the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

“good girl,” felix murmured, voice low and warm as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, so gentle it felt obscene. “fucking masterpiece.”

your lips parted around a shaky breath, cum dripping in slow, glistening rivulets down your chin and throat, pooling at the hollow of your collarbone. felix’s thumb smeared through it absently, still caressing, like he couldn’t help but admire the contrast—his release shining against your flushed, sweat-damp skin.

you blinked up at him, dazed, your lashes clumped and cheeks burning. and then, slowly, you smiled.

seungmin let out a breath, still catching himself, sweat dripping from his brow as he looked down at the mess he’d left across your stomach—his cum still warm where it streaked your skin.

you tilted your head, lips still slick, and felix groaned again, this time softer, almost reverent.

“my goodness, angel,” he whispered.

you hummed low in your throat, half-purr, half-taunt.

then, finally, your head tipped back onto the couch cushion. your eyes fluttered shut. the smile stayed—lazy, satisfied, gleaming.

like a girl who knew exactly what she’d done.

the sheets were still warm.

felix had you wrapped up tight, one arm snug around your waist, the other curled beneath your neck, fingers brushing your hair like he couldn’t stop touching you. you were tucked under his chin, his bare chest rising and falling steady against your back. his nose nuzzled into your hair with lazy affection, lips brushing soft against your scalp.

you stirred, eyes fluttering open to sunlight spilling through the blinds, thin golden lines stretching across the floor and up the rumpled duvet. your legs were tangled with his.

and then— mwah a soft kiss to your temple. mwah another, to the edge of your jaw. mwah one on the curve of your shoulder, where his fingers swept your hair away.

“morning,” he whispered, voice sleep-rough and sweet, like honey dripped over gravel. “you’re so pretty like this.”

you hummed, face buried into the pillow. “it’s too early for this.”

“uh-huh,” felix said without shame, lips trailing along your shoulder blade now, down the dip of your spine.

you laughed into the sheets, sore in all the right places, a soft ache between your thighs reminding you of exactly how ruined you’d been. his hand found your stomach, palm wide and splayed, thumb brushing the bottom of your ribcage in slow circles.

“you okay?” he murmured against your skin.

you twisted in his arms just enough to meet his gaze—his eyes, glassy with sleep, crinkled at the corners with that barely-there smile that made your heart go stupid.

“i’m good,” you whispered. “better than good.”

he leaned in, kissed your nose, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. quick, playful. like he couldn’t stop. like every inch of you deserved a thank-you.

you furrowed your brows, reaching for the edge of the blanket. “by the way, where’s my bag?”

felix blinked. “huh?”

“my bag,” you said again, starting to sit up. “where is it?”

he pointed lazily, chin barely tilting. “nightstand, baby. why?”

you leaned over, the sheet slipping down your back, and grabbed the small crossbody. felix’s hand instinctively landed on your hip to keep you steady as you rummaged through the front pocket with a purpose. a second later, you turned and slapped bills into his chest.

his brows shot up.

“you win.”

felix blinked down at the money like you’d just handed him a dead bird.

he didn’t take it. of course he didn’t.

instead, he plucked the bills from his chest, slow and deliberate, and shoved them right back into your bag without a word. then he zipped it shut, dropped it on the nightstand, and flopped onto his back with a dramatic sigh, one arm draped over his eyes.

“you’re actually insane,” he muttered. “you think i’d ever take your money?”

you crawled over to him confused, settling on his chest. “we made a bet.” you said, like maybe he’d forgotten.

felix let his arm fall to the side so he could wrap it around your waist and pull you in, skin to skin, like your weight on him was exactly where it belonged.

“yeah and i won, but you keep your money,” he said finally, voice all lazy warmth.

you groaned, shoving your face into his chest like you could physically block out how disgustingly sweet he was being.

“felix.”

“hmm?”

“you are so annoying.”

“i know,” he said, unbothered, brushing his fingers up and down your spine. “and romantic. and incredibly sexy.”

you lifted your head just enough to squint at him. “you forgot modest.”

“oh, shush you,” felix said, grinning as he dragged his fingers up your spine in a slow, teasing stroke that made you giggle. he kissed your shoulder with a soft hum, like your laughter was his favorite sound in the world.

felix kissed your shoulder one last time before murmuring into your skin, “let’s talk to him.”

your body stilled slightly, then you nodded. because you knew it was time.

felix slid out from beneath you, grabbing the shirt you’d tugged off of him sometime last night and pulling it over his head. you reached for the discarded tee you’d been wearing, padding across the room barefoot as felix opened the door.

the hallway was dim and still cool from the night air, but there was light coming from the kitchen. you could already hear it—the quiet clink of a mug, the scrape of a chair against tile.

of course he was up.

seungmin was always up earlier than you two. he didn’t believe in sleeping in. said it made his thoughts sluggish. said it let the day get too far ahead.

when you turned the corner into the kitchen, you found him exactly as expected—sitting at the table, coffee in hand, earbuds in but not playing anything. he looked up the moment he heard your footsteps, gaze flicking to you, then felix, then back to the mug in his hands like he already knew why you were there.

felix was the one who spoke first. “hey.”

seungmin didn’t answer. just took a slow sip, then set the mug down and pulled out one earbud.

you stepped forward. slowly.

he looked back at felix, then raised an eyebrow. “so. who’s idea was it?”

felix didn’t even hesitate. “mine.”

seungmin let out a short laugh, quiet but sharp, like a puff of air he didn’t plan on releasing. he leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out under the table, and shook his head. “of course it was.”

“you’re not mad?” you asked carefully.

he sipped his coffee again. “i’m annoyed i got turned into a fucking science experiment, but i’m not mad.”

you tilted your head, smile pulling sharper as you crossed your arms and leaned against the counter. “well, good. because with your horrible commitment issues, it’s not like you’d want strings attached anyway.”

seungmin raised both brows, smirking now. “no strings attached, huh?”

you shrugged. “why? you suddenly want some?”

he scoffed. “god, no.”

“perfect then,” you said, biting back a grin.

seungmin lifted his mug in mock salut

you rolled your eyes, stepping toward the hallway with felix’s hand brushing yours again. “later, min.”

“later, trouble.”

you leaned in close to felix, barely loud enough for him to hear as you whispered, “come on.”

felix grinned, eyes flicking to yours with that lazy warmth that always made your stomach flutter. but before he followed, he reached over and ruffled seungmin’s hair. seungmin swatted him off with a dramatic groan.

felix just chuckled and turned to follow you, letting the hallway light fall behind him as the two of you disappeared into the room. you didn’t say anything at first—just tugged him by the fingers until the door clicked softly shut.

then, without a word, you turned.

your hands slipped up his chest, your mouth already finding his, slow and sure. he kissed you back immediately, all lips and warmth and the quiet hum in his throat that made you feel like you belonged right there—tangled up in the soft hush of morning after chaos.

you smiled against his mouth, pulling back just enough to look at him.

“you okay?” you whispered.

felix nodded, brushing his nose against yours. “yeah,” he murmured. “everything’s perfect.”

and with that, you kissed him again—deeper this time—and let the door seal the rest of the world out.

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onlyheluvsme · 2 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋbig clit!abby i´ˎ˗

��your first time together — mdni, lowercase intended, smut, based on this thought i had lol, mentions of: oral, body insecurity, penetration *ೃ༄pls leave reqs!!

abby’s tongue found yours in a kiss as both her hands pinned yours above your head. the two of you were hiding from everyone in her room, needing just a second of only each other.

“mmm” she moaned into your mouth, hips coming down onto yours; her cargo pants causing friction against your soft cotton shorts. your legs widen giving her more access to the warmth between your thighs.

the kiss remained like this for a while, her clothed hips rocking into yours, teeth clashing, lips slowly becoming red and puffy against each other. her hands always locked yours above your head even after months of dating, this was all you and abby had done; as far as she would let you go.

you decided to be a little more daring tonight, trying to get to the core of what was holding her back. you knew she wasn't a virgin and couldn't figure out what was making her so nervous to have sex with you. sometimes it ate you up inside, worrying she didn't find you attractive but those thoughts always washed away when you saw the way she looked at you when you first woke up. the way she would stutter and lose her breath watching you during training.

"abby" you moaned into her mouth, pushing your hips against hers.

"fuck baby" she pulls back, understanding what your trying to do already,

"we should probably get back" abby finishes shyly, pulling away and standing up without looking at you.

with a frustrated sigh, you sit up and stare back at your girlfriend,

"is it me? do you not want me or something? did i do some-" your cut off by her,

"hey hey hey" she shakes her head, coming to crouch down in front of the bed, one hand on your knee and the other softly onto your cheek.

her eyebrows furrow as she stares into your eyes, face crumpling as she shakes her head and lets it fall. you give her a few seconds, letting her collect herself,

"you promise you won't laugh? that you won't look at me like an alien?" her weary eyes find yours,

"what? abby? of course i wouldn't," you frown completely confused by the situation. when you open your mouth to question her, abby's lips come down onto yours, both hands finding your cheeks.

"abby wha-" you try between feverish kisses as abby's body pushes yours flat onto the bed.

"shh baby" her lips pull from yours and dive into your neck, hands roaming your body till they find the soft cotton of your shorts. you realize quickly that her hands don't keep yours from exploring her body and press your fingers anywhere they can reach. her thick forearms, up her biceps, her freckled shoulder.

"need to taste you" abby rasps against your neck, fingers slipping off your shorts and panties, you lift your hips to help her.

as she pulls away from your neck and slides down onto her knees in front of the bed, her two hands come up over her head and lift her black shirt over her head. you help her, throwing the shirt across the room, leaving her in only her sports bra and cargos.

"abby" you start shyly, looking up at her from her bunked bed, only a loose tank top covered your tits and your stomach. your legs were slightly closed, hiding your most sensitive parts from her.

"its okay baby, i promise to be gentle" her hands come up to your thighs as she begins softly kissing up your leg, slowly spreading you until she finally gets a glimpse at your puffy cunt as it slowly leaked onto her sheets.

abby's mouth waters and she loses her breath for a second as her pointer finger and thumb come up to your warmth and spread your wet lips, exposing your aching clit and hole.

your head hits the bed in embarrassment and your cheeks flush,

"abby" you whine as her mouth comes down onto your thighs, leaving bites and kisses.

"no baby, i'm taking my time" she looks up at you through messy blonde hair, her tongue darting out to lick a strip up your folds.

your eyes roll at the feeling, never having felt the warmth and wet of a tongue on your cunt before.

abby's tongue starts lightly up and down your folds and when she finally circles your clit both your legs squeeze around her head,

"oh fuck abby!" you whine but all you receive is a giggle to your cunt as her large hands come to your thighs and spread them, forcing you open.

her tongue begins a relentless pace against you, exploring your cunt like its the last time she will ever have it. she sucks your clit into her mouth, flicking her tongue feverishly then to your hole as she prods it lightly, then back to your clit. it doesn't take long for your first orgasm to hit, your hips rocking against her face; your slick coating abby's chin, lips, and cheeks.

"come one sweet girl i can feel it" abby says against you as your orgasm washes over your, cunt quivering against her mouth. she lets you ride it out, continuing a slow rock against her flatten tongue until you push her mouth away in overstimulation.

with a giggle she places a soft kiss to your clit, climbing up your body leaving soft kisses on her way. you slightly gasp when she finally reaches your mouth, still in a bliss from your orgasm. abby's lips find yours in a sweet kiss, her hands in your air, the taste of your orgasm on her tongue.

your hands go back to their new found exploring of her body, fingers faintly going over her hardened nipples, down the ridges of her abs, into the waistline of her boxers and cargo pants.

she lets out a shaky breath above you, and you pull back to give her a reassuring look. no matter what she may be hiding about herself, there was nothing that could get you to find abby disgusting or odd.

"you're fucking perfect" you whisper, her lips find yours again this time hungrier than before. she helps you as you push off her cargos leaving her in just her loose boxers.

she flips the two of you over, sitting up and placing you in her lap. your hands come up to her nape and your lips dive into her warm neck, her shampoo strong in your nose.

abby becomes breathless as you begin grinding down onto her, leaning back against the wall next to her bed as she lets you take control of her body.

her thighs slowly spread as your rocking continues, when you feel a slight prodding against you. your kisses slow and you frown in confusion, it didn't feel like a full hardness; like when you used to wake up to your crappy ex boyfriend humping your ass.

no fucking way, this is what she was hiding from me? this is what she was so scared of?

abby felt your change and tensed up,

"fuck i'm sorr-" you cut her off, sliding off her thighs and to the floor in front of her; the position she was in not too long ago. abby's thick boxer covered thighs were spread in front of you and at this angle you can much more obviously see the slight bulge where her clit would be.

the look you gave abby made her weak, complete excitement and lust was written across your features.

your hands came up to her thighs,

"need these off my love" your fingers ghost over the small bulge, her breath shudders in response. abby slowly lifts her hips, pushing away any apprehension she previously had.

you let out a light gasp, jaw going slack when you finally remove abby's boxers. with spread thighs, a puffy glistening cunt stared back at you. your guess was proven correct when you see her almost four inch, redden clit standing erect.

your mouth waters at the sight and you stare up at her in shock,

"i-i know you probably have never seen.." her sentence dies on her tongue, slightly embarrassed.

"are you kidding me abby?" you lightly smirk, pushing her knees apart with your hands. the act causes her cunt to spread and you find the inner part of her thighs soaked with her slick.

with slow fingers, you trace small circles around her hole watching it quiver against nothing, slick coating your fingers. you don't even realize the short circuiting you've just given your girlfriend. her eyes roll back as you use one hand to spread her and the other to spread her slick onto her erect clit.

abby let's you explore for a few minutes, your fingers rubbing the tip of her clit making her right leg shake for a moment, the underneath the lengthened clit where your thumb swiped back and forth. she let you wrap your hand around it and slightly jerk it, then back to her hole where you continued to gather her slick as it dripped out of her until she couldn't handle anymore.

"baby please" she whined, and you finally realize the torture you've been putting her through. you were just so focused in exploring the beauty of her cunt you forgot the poor girl was dying to come.

without a second thought your lips come down onto her hardened clit and abby's torso folds over for a second. the sweetest moan leaves her mouth as she falls back onto the bed, your mouth beginning a quick bob on her clit.

your tongue swirls around the reddened mushroom tip of her clit, head coming up and down quickly on her cunt. abby's hands find your hair and you let her take over the pace as she fucks your face with her clit.

"your mouth is so good, my girl" she praises you as her hand tightens its grip in your hair.

you swirled and sucked abby's lengthened clit until you felt the slick of her building on your chin. your fingers came up under your mouth to spread her where you found her poor hole aching, and relieved her; two fingers slipping into her velvet walls as your mouth came down onto her clit over and over again.

abby let out an almost scream at the feeling of your fingers and your tongue, it becoming almost too much for her. she had never let anyone give her clit head like this, the new feeling already an overstimulation. her legs began to shake under you as your tongue sucked onto her lengthened clit and your fingers found that spongey spot deep within her walls.

your mouth and fingers drove abby into a mind-shattering orgasm, come streaming out of her cunt onto the bed, all over your face, and over your fingers. her hands held your head to her clit as her hips rocked through her orgasm until she finally relented, pulling your head back.

you come up with a gasp, letting yourself breathe fully for the first time in a few minutes. however, abby doesn't give you another second as she lifts you up back on her lap, clit still hard and slightly puffier with its last orgasm,

"no, need more" your girlfriend says almost mindless at this point as her hand goes down to her clit, lining it up with your soaked hole. you press your hips down, letting her enter you as much as she could, the enlarged member slipping into your warm hole.

"o-oh f-fuck" abby stutters over her words as her hips begin rocking up into yours, her clit sliding in and out of your aching hole.

you wrap your arms around her neck, both feet going under her thighs to give you more momentum to push yourself down onto her. her hips rock up into yours as you bounce on her clit, abby's fingers come down to find yours giving sweet circles with her thumb.

her forehead meets yours as you both quickly approach your second orgasm,

"fuck baby you feel so good inside of me" you moan as her lips glaze yours.

within seconds abby's hips lose their pace become erratic, the thumb she has on your clit quickens causing your head to fall onto her thick shoulder.

"look at me baby" abby whispers into your ear and you hazily lift your head to look at her, hips rocking sporadically as your orgasm drew close.

"abby i'm gonna come" you whine, hole twitching against her sensitive clit.

"yeah? come f'me baby let me feel you" her thumb press into your clit as she rubbed you and your head goes back, letting your second orgasm wash over you.

the feeling of your tight hole quivering and twitching against abby's already sensitive clit drives her into her second orgasm, this one better than the first. come squirting out of her, soaking the bed as you rode her through her orgasm.

both of you laid there out attempting to catch your breath for a few minutes until abby's hands came and lifted you up and off of her slowly softening clit.

"lemme get you a towel baby hold on" she tried to place you onto the bed next to her but your arms and legs tightened around her body as you let out a whine.

"alright alright, you can come" her hands came up to your bare bum, the tips of her fingers ghosting your come-soaked cunt; you shiver from the feeling.

she grabs one of her clean gym towels and sits back on her bed, cleaning your thighs and hers of the extra come. when she's done she throws the towel on the other side of the room, you stay in her lap the entire time.

"I can't believe you were so nervous to tell me you practically have a dick" you say into her neck, your body begins to shake against her as she laughs loudly.

"a dick?" she exclaims with an enthused smile, you lift your head to look at her with a laugh.

"yeah dude your like totally huge" you joke,

"you're not uncomfortable?" she says seriously after a laugh, though there is still a hint of enjoyment in her eyes. you give her a small smile and a quick kiss,

"abby, i really fucking mean you're perfect" you stare at her seriously, needing her to understand that there was nothing about her that made you uncomfortable, ever.

you bite your lip,

"honestly?..." you start and a flash a fear goes across her face,

"that was the hottest fucking thing in my fucking life" you state matter of factly and she laughs out pushing your face away.

"no wait! when are we doing that again? can you do it on command? does it-" your girlfriend cuts you off in a kiss, abby needed this reassurance and that was fine.

you just felt lucky, not only was your girlfriend packing the most delicious muscles but now you knew what else she was packing and god were you exciting for the next time you could ride her.

[bc abby masterlist]

[abby masterlist]

#lulu writes ✧₊⁺#lulu writes abby⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#abby smut #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby x you #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x f!reader

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scarletmika · 1 month ago

Text

Cliché : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: There's always a joke surrounding weddings that the Maid of Honor and the Best Man will end up falling in love; it's one of the oldest clichés in the book. When you're the Maid of Honor, though, Bob Floyd wouldn't have it any other way.

Warnings: insane amounts of fluff, insane amounts of pining (my god I couldn't stop), maid of honor and best man trope, kind of friends to lovers, language, Hangman is Hangman, female reader, reader is very creative and can dance, UCSD info might not be accurate I don't go there, suggestive and steamy but not explicit, language, probably incorrect descriptions of the Navy (my dad was a Marine, I'm doing my best lol)

Word Count: 13,515 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

PART TWO - Even More Cliché : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

“Natasha Trace, my best friend…will you marry me?”

The Hard Deck erupted into a chorus of excitement the minute that Natasha told Bradley Bradshaw yes through a curtain of tears. Bob was cheering right along with them, elated for his two best friends and to know that Rooster had pulled off the proposal he’d been stressing over for weeks now.

The couple had made the rounds in the moments after. Maverick and Penny were the first to congratulate them both, and Bob could’ve sworn he saw tears in their Team Leader’s eyes as he hugged Rooster. Hangman had a snide remark under his breath, but gave the couple both his heartfelt congratulations, followed by Fanboy and Payback.

“Couldn’t have done this without you, Bobby boy,” Rooster clapped his best friend on the back, bringing him into a tight hug before letting Natasha hug her back seater. “Bob’s been helping me plan this for weeks, making sure everyone would be here tonight for the engagement party. The greatest future best man a guy could ask for!”

“Bradley, it can’t be an engagement party without our families,” Natasha had quickly argued back, shooting Bob a bright smile. “But thank you, Bob. It means the world to both of us.”

“It’s what you both deserve,” he’d told them wholeheartedly. “Seeing my best friends happy is all I want.”

“Going back to your engagement party comment,” Bradley cut in, shooting his now-fiancée a cheeky grin as he gestured behind her. “Don’t think I didn’t think of everything.”

Bob laughed along with Rooster the second Natasha turned around, shouting in glee at her family standing directly behind her. She’d thrown herself into her mother and father’s arms, given her sister a tight hug, and a whole new round of tears had sprung as they admired the ring on her finger. Bob nudged his best friend with a grin.

“You did good, Rooster,”

“Oh, this is just the beginning,” Natasha’s attention was turned back to Bradley the second she heard him say that, raising an eyebrow as she missed the sneaky smiles on her family’s faces.

“What else could you have possibly pulled off tonight-”

“Give your man props, Nattie. He knew if he proposed to you without me in attendance, one of us would likely kill him,”

It wasn’t the first time Bob had ever seen you, but it was the first time he’d ever seen you in person. Natasha had shown him many photos of herself and her childhood best friend, the girl she considered more of a sister than anything else, many times before in all their time knowing each other and working together. He’d seen the elementary photos, the awkward middle school photos, the prom photos, and the intermittent photos taken throughout adulthood, anytime the pair of you could find time to see one another.

He hated that, based solely on photos and stories of you, he’d grown the most schoolboy crush in the world on you. He wasn’t sure if there was an “unspoken” code about crushing on the childhood best friend of one of your own best friends, but he felt like it definitely crossed a line.

Rooster was laughing from Bob’s side as you and Natasha practically bounced around in circles together, talking a mile a minute as you admired the ring sitting snugly on her left hand now. With arms wrapped around one another, you’d both turned back to the boys as Bob watched you flash a smile in Rooster’s direction.

“Bradley, nice to finally see you outside of FaceTime screens. And nicely done with the ring, I’m glad you took my advice,”

“Who was I to question the advice of the master?”

Bob felt his breath catch for a moment as your gaze finally turned to him, and he could see you fully for the first time in front of him.

God, you were even prettier up close than in your photos.

“You must be the infamous Bob that I’ve heard so much about,” Bob wanted to melt under your smile as you flashed your attention toward him. “Thanks for keeping my girl safe in the skies.”

“Well- I’d say she keeps me safe more…”

“Team effort, at least take half the credit,” you’d joked to him, before Natasha had quickly pulled you into conversation once more.

It was stupid, Bob thought, to have a crush on a woman he’d never even met before. He couldn’t help it the entire night as he watched you talk and joke with Natasha’s family, the way you so effortlessly made conversation with the entire Dagger Squad, even though it was the first time you’d met them all. Through photos, videos, and stories alone, Bob had gained a schoolboy crush. But now, as you animatedly explained a story of you and Phoenix from your childhood, he could feel his crush growing from seeing your personality shine.

Thankfully for Bob, he’d barely have to see you. You’d fly home most likely the next day, and the next time he’d see you would be for wedding preparations. That’d be plenty of time to get over his dumb little crush on his best friend’s childhood best friend.

“I’m telling you, it was the funniest night of our entire lives!” Natasha was practically in tears, and so were the rest of the Dagger Squad members as you choked out your words through your own laughter. Bob had a hard time looking away from you as you spoke. “I’m up there on that stage, sold out high school theater guys, ready to give my really intense monologue, and suddenly the set wall just comes CRASHING down with Nattie here clinging onto it!”

“I warned them during set construction that the wall was just begging to fall down!” Natasha laughed, leaning back against Rooster with a shake of her head. “That was immediately the last time I let this one here talk me into helping with the school musicals. Never signed up again, no matter how much she begged.”

“And wait, this was opening night too?” Fanboy chimed in from his space beside Bob as both women gave him a nod. “That somehow makes it even funnier. I can’t thank you enough for bestowing us with the gift of these stories tonight.”

“Yes, yes, consider them a tiny gift for all of Nattie’s friends here tonight,” you turned away from the rest of the squad to look at your best friend, though. “It’s your engagement party, though, so I think it’s time that I gave you your gift.”

Bob could see the smirk on Rooster’s lips as he watched the pair. Bob, along with the ret of their friends, watched intently as well as you dug a key out of your back pocket, dropping it into Natasha’s hand without another word. Bob’s front seater cocked an eyebrow, examining the key in confusion.

“A key…how…nice?”

“Well, I have to make sure someone in this city has a spare key to my place,” Bob felt his breath catch for a second, catching onto your words before Natasha did, as you beamed at your best friend. “To my apartment, over in Logan Heights! If I’m going to be the newest Professor at UC San Diego, I’m going to need a place to live-”

If there was a contest for trying to break the sound barrier with a scream, or even how much one person could cry in a single night, Natasha Trace was pretty close to winning them both. Between her shouts of “YOU’RE MOVING TO SAN DIEGO?” and a lot of loud crying, as Rooster smirked, letting his friends know he knew about this surprise, Bob knew this night had quickly become absolute perfection in both of his friends’ eyes.

Bob also knew that now, his plan to squash his little crush on you had failed before it even had the chance to begin.

He’d managed to avoid seeing you for a few days, but that didn’t mean that Natasha had shut up about you. Every day, while thousands of feet in the air, he’d listened to her ramble on and on about how the pair of you had always wanted to live in the same city together once you were settled in your careers, and she was finally getting her wish. She’d also run about a thousand ideas for how to help you decorate your apartment by him, and somewhere in there had tricked him into agreeing to help herself and Rooster set up your apartment.

“I can’t thank you all enough for the help,” you’d told the three standing in front of you one early Saturday morning, giving them all thankful smiles, before turning to the multitudes of boxes stacked around your living room. “I…frankly have no idea where to start. The boxes are all stacked in their corresponding rooms, and there are a ton of IKEA boxes that need to be assembled in just about every room.”

Rooster clapped a hand on Bob’s shoulder, bringing the attention of both women back to the two of them.

“Good thing Bob and I are masters of IKEA furniture,” Bradley put on an air of confidence as he said it. “When Payback and Fanboy got their apartment a few months ago, we were in charge of all the furniture assembly.”

“And given that we managed to build a bedframe upside down, I wouldn’t call us masters,”

It was the giggle you let out at Bob’s comment that brought his attention back to you, an involuntary flush spreading across his cheeks. You gave a mock salute to the pair.

“Well, how nice it is to know I have such capable young men on my side,” you gestured with your head toward the hallway behind you. “I’ll steal Bob for help with the dining room if Natasha, you and your man can handle my bedroom without putting my bedframe together upside down.”

With another laugh shared, Rooster and Phoenix were quickly moving down the hallway toward your bedroom, but Bob caught the over-exaggerated wink that Rooster sent his way before disappearing into what he assumed was your bedroom.

Trying to calm the blush evident on his cheeks, Bob joined you in the dining room directly off your kitchen. You’d already set yourself down on the floor, breaking into the IKEA box laid before you.

“Can you take that so I don’t lose it while getting all these pieces out?” you’d laughed, handing Bob the instruction manual. He took it from you with a nod, quickly flipping through the packet in his hands.

“A ‘GRÖNSTA’, because that’s not a mouthful,” Bob commented under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear as you laughed again. He took a seat on the ground opposite of you,, placing the packet off to the side and helping you take pieces out of the box, while also trying to calm the heat still prevalent in his cheeks. “Doesn’t help that the instructions don’t make any sense.”

“Right? You’d think the Swedes would learn that their pictures aren’t very helpful,” you both shared a laugh as Bob watched you flip open the instructions, grabbing the pieces needed for the very first leg of the table.

It was torture, almost, being around you with a crush that felt so middle school being harbored inside of him. He barely knew you, but every time you talked and joked, he knew he was already digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole.

“You said the other night you’re a professor?” Bob had settled on asking you about yourself. You were Natasha’s best friend, and now you lived here; getting to know you was going to be inevitable. You gave him a slight hum as an answer, intent on screwing in the leg of the table to the tabletop that Bob was holding in place. “What uh, what will you be teaching?”

“I’m a professor in the art department, there’s like a whole slew of classes I’ll be teaching,” you explained to him as Bob held the table steady so that you could screw in another leg. “Music, theatre, dance, and probably whatever else they throw my way.”

You passed the tools off to Bob as you stood, holding the table upright on it’s two legs so that he could screw in the last two from the ground below you. Truthfully, Bob was thankful for the table between you two, because the more he looked at you, the more he couldn’t stop thinking about just how gorgeous you were in person.

“Take it you’re a creative person, then?”

“After some lead roles in high school musicals, followed by a stint on Broadway fresh out of college…yeah I’d say creative is a good word to use,” Bob laughed, moving out from under the table slightly to grab the final leg from just a few feet away, glancing up at you.

“Broadway? My older sister is a big musical fan, she’d go nuts knowing I know someone who was on Broadway, now,”

“Well, you can tell her that I’d be happy to tell her all about it sometime. I’ve got a whole slew of fun stories from different shows,” you gave him another grin, still holding up the unbalanced table. “I’m surprised Nattie didn’t tell anyone about my Broadway stint; she talks about it like a proud mother to whoever will listen.”

Bob found himself locked in place as he laughed at your comment, fidgeting with the last table leg in his hands as he smiled up at you, finding himself locked in conversation easily. Despite his raging social anxiety that Rooster and Hangman desperately wanted to fix, Bob found it entirely too easy to talk to you.

“To be fair, when we’re thousands of feet in the air, we have a few things to focus on for the sake of our lives,” both of you shared a laugh at his comment. “She’d told plenty of stories about you, though. Showed a lot of photos and videos, too.”

“Good, because she’s told me plenty about you,” Bob could see your grin widen, no doubt because of the red flush overtaking his skin at your comment. “Her incredibly smart and kind WSO with raging social anxiety. Not sure I believe that last part, you seem to be doing just fine.”

“On the outside, maybe. Typically, on the outside and inside, I’m about as useful as a newborn baby deer,”

The laughter that you let out as his joke, Bob decided, was now one of his favorite things. He was so entranced by it that he hadn’t noticed you’d accidentally let go of the table until it had fallen back on him.

The gasp you’d let out rang through the room, but it was broken apart by the laughter that seemed to be flowing out of you even harder now. Bob took a second to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose before shoving the table off of him. Your laughter paused for a moment as soon as the two of you locked eyes, before you both devolved into a fit of laughter that had Bob almost curled in on himself.

“I’m so sorry!” you had finally managed to get out words after a solid few moments, wiping tears from your eyes as laughter still broke through your words. “I didn’t mean to do that!”

“Good, because I don’t want to explain to Maverick that I died because of a ‘GRÖNSTA’,” the pair of you devolved into laughter again as you held out your hand for him. Bob took it, despite the full-body flush he felt at simply touching your skin, and let you hoist him back up to his feet.

“Alright, next time I see you, I’m buying you a drink as an apology,” you told him with a pointed look as you moved past him to grab the instruction book.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Ikea,”

“Hey!” Bob laughed as you gasped at his comment, whacking him lightly with the instruction booklet as you grinned at him. “There’s no way we’re making that my nickname!”

“I promise it’s better than any call-sign Hangman will come up with for you-”

“What the hell is happening out here?”

Bob turned on his heel to face the hallway just as you did. Rooster looked lost at what was happening outside the bedroom, as did Natasha, but Bob could see the slightest hint of a smirk on his friend’s face as she looked at him. Bob turned to look at you, just as you looked at him, and you both devolved into another round of laughter that had Rooster even more confused.

Bob Floyd hadn’t stopped thinking about you after that night. He thought about you constantly, how your hand fit and felt in his own, about your laughter, and about that beautiful smile on your face. He was in deep, and he knew it. You never left his mind until he saw you again at the weekly Hard Deck hangout with the rest of the Dagger Squad.

“Well, well, well,” Hangman’s Texan accent was heavy tonight as he turned his gaze away from the pool table before him, and the meaningless game he was playing against Coyote. “Phoenix brought her shadow along tonight!”

Bob turned his head, a smile crossing his lips at the sight of you walking up with Phoenix, two beer bottles in your hands as you rolled your eyes at Hangman’s comments, but Natasha was the one who spoke first.

“I was more so her shadow growing up, followed this one everywhere,” she nudged your shoulder before taking a seat at one of the high tops next to Bradley, smiling widely as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Figured, now that she’s settled in, it was time to start bringing her around to the weekly night out.”

The conversation continued, but Bob’s eyes and grin were glued to you. You made a beeline for his side, leaning against the high-top chair he was seated on and passing him one of the beers in your hand.

“Nice to see you, Lieutenant,” you teased him, clinking the top of your bottle to his own. “I did say I owed you a beer next time I saw you.”

“Thanks, Ikea, I’m sure it will numb the pain of that table falling on me,” Bob threw back, laughing as you lightly hit him on the shoulder the second he said that nickname. “Settled in well?”

“All thanks to you guys and that entire day full of furniture building,” you shot back at him, taking a swig of your drink as you turned to watch the pool game in front of you, still leaning against Bob’s chair. It had you close enough that Bob was overwhelmed by the scent of your perfume, and he decided in that moment it might be his new favorite scent.

He then scolded himself in his head for how weird that sounded. This crush was getting out of hand.

Coyote let out a groan as Hangman beat him once again, the latter letting out a loud whoop that had the rest of the Dagger Squad laughing. The pilot’s attention turned immediately to you, a frown appearing on Bob’s lips immediately as he recognized the flirty grin on Jake’s face.

“What do you say, little lady?” Hangman emphasized his accent even more, making a show of gesturing you toward the pool table with the pool cue in his hands. “Want to play a round?”

You hummed from beside Bob, leaning over him to place your own drink on the table as his face immediately flushed at the action. You didn’t seem to notice, stalking toward the pool table and picking up Coyote’s previous pool cue.

“8 ball or 9 ball?”

“9 ball, I’m all about making shots,” Hangman called back, gesturing toward his side of the table. “Payback can rack ‘em for us. What do you say, sweetheart? Ready to be partners with the greatest pool player Miramar’s ever had the pleasure of hosting?”

“Absolutely,” you shock back, and Bob paused in his sip of his beer as your gaze shot back toward him. “Let’s go, Lieutenant. You’re my partner.”

There was a collective laugh through the entire squad at the look of shock on Hangman’s face, that he quickly tried to wipe away and pretend as if your comment hadn’t affected him. Bob froze for a moment, but the inviting smile on your face drew him to your side within a heartbeat.

Hangman and Coyote were a good pairing, but somehow you and Bob managed to be just slightly better than them both. Bob let out a cheer as you sunk the final ball of the game, happily accepting the high five you sent his way as Coyote and Hangman groaned, having come so close yet so far from winning out.

“Nice shots there, Bob,” you shot at him, nudging his shoulder with your own as you placed your cue down on the table. Bob could feel the confidence he’d been feeling the last hour slightly fade at the close proximity to you, at the sweet smile you were sending up at him from your place next to him.

“Yeah uh- yeah, you too, Ikea-”

“Ikea?” Payback questioned as he and Fanboy hopped up to sit on the table next to the dejected Jake Seresin. He pointed between Bob and their newest friend. “Like…the Swedish furniture place?”

You laughed, your hand coming to rest on Bob’s forearm with a squeeze that had his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Inside joke, Payback, and it’s going to stay that way,”

Bob’s friend went to counter them with another comment when Natasha and Bradley returned to the group, an entire tray of beers in hand as Natasha whistled to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright guys, we’ve got another round of beers for the group,” most of them whooped and hollered as Bradley passed them all out, before Natasha turned to Bob and her best friend to hand them the two in her hands with a wide grin. “And two very special ones for our best friends.”

There was a beat of silence as Bob took his drink from Natasha, taking a swig before he felt something on the outside of the bottle. He turned it over in his hands, seeing a piece of paper barely attached by a thin strip of tape, Rooster’s handwriting scrawled across it:

You might be Phoenix’s back seater, but I want you to be my wingman this time: be my Best Man?

Bob almost felt tears in his eyes as he looked up at Bradley, who was waiting with a grin on his face. Overwhelmed with emotion, Bob simply nodded, standing up as he brought Bradley into a tight hug as the rest of the group realized what was happening before them and began cheering.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD, YES!”

Bob and Bradley both turned to see you flinging yourself into Natasha’s arms, the pair of you jumping and crying together. His eyes trailed to your bottle, long forgotten on the side of the pool table, with a piece of paper bearing Nat’s handwriting taped to the neck:

It was always going to be you: be my Maid of Honor?”

“You know what they say about the Best Man and the Maid of Honor, right Bob?” It was Bradley’s voice mumbled into his ear with a hint of teasing laced through it, his best friend’s hand clamped down on his shoulder with a squeeze. “It’s almost inevitable that they fall in love.”

Bob never had a second to truly process Bradley’s words before Natasha was getting the attention of the entire group once again, with you still glued to her side.

“It might also be a good time to tell you guys we picked a wedding date…we’re getting married in six months!”

The cheering of the entire group ceased for a moment before everyone seemed to shout all at once.

“WHAT?”

Planning a wedding was hard enough on the Bride and the Groom, and it was hard on the Best Man and the Maid of Honor as well. But to somehow turn it around in only six months, especially when almost everyone involved was a Navy fighter pilot who spent most of their time thousands of feet in the air, it made it even harder.

It was even harder for Bob, as he accepted his ‘schoolboy crush’ had grown into a full-blown crush on you, maybe even borderline infatuation, not even a month later than that night at the Hard Deck.

Bob had been a stumbling, blushing mess when you’d given him your number that night after the announcement. It made sense, given that it was going to be up to the two of you to plan most of the festivities leading up to the wedding. It was hard because, besides Bob’s growing affection for you, he couldn’t get the thought of what Rooster had mumbled to him out of his head.

He’d yet, though, worked up the courage to text you regarding ANYTHING other than wedding festivities planning…which were all conversations you had started first.

“Hard Deck, 6 p.m., don’t be late!” Phoenix called out to Bob as she walked away, tucked under Bradley’s arm as they made their way toward the latter's truck. “Hangman insists on that pool rematch tonight!”

“Let a guy shower first!” Bob called back, waving goodbye to his friends as he climbed up into his truck, wiping sweat from his brow. Another day that ended with over 200 push-ups from Maverick, and he refused to show up to the Hard Deck without showering first. Before he could put his car in drive, his phone went off, and his heart skipped a beat as he read your name across the screen.

Soooooooooo, huge favor to ask you here, Bobby…

Bob did his best to calm the hammering that his heart was doing inside of his ribcage. It was just a simple text, that’s all, asking for a favor. He’d texted you before, and while this potentially may not be wedding-related, he could certainly text you again.

Anything, what’s up?

Anything? God, could he make his pining any more obvious? He didn’t get long to mull over his own words before you’d already typed back to him.

My car is in the shop, and a coworker gave me a ride in today, but she had to leave early. I know I promised Jake that pool rematch tonight…any way you could swing by and pick me up from campus?

I know campus is WAY in the opposite direction from the Hard Deck, it’s totally okay if you can’t!

Was Bob freaking out inside? Absolutely. He knew you worked on UCSD’s campus, but he’d never been to your office; he had no need to go there. The last time he’d also been fully alone with you was building furniture and dropping tables in your apartment, and picking you up meant being alone with you…plus, it wouldn’t give him time to go home and shower, and the last thing he wanted to do was put you off potentially because he was sweating buckets in the San Diego sun all day.

Before he could psych himself out, as if there was a little Rooster on his shoulder coercing him, Bob replied.

Of course, send me your office address.

About a half hour later, Bob was forcing himself out of his truck and up to the doors of the building housing the Department of Theater and Dance, frantically trying to fix his hair so he looked semi-acceptable. He’d already had to convince himself that a fifth layer of deodorant was not needed, nor was a second spray of the spare cologne he kept in his car.

Walking through the doors and into the building you’d given him directions to, Bob realized fairly quickly that he was absolutely lost and had no idea how to get to your office. Spotting a receptionist off to the side, Bob made his way over to her and cleared his throat, asking politely for directions to your office.

“I didn’t think Siren had any meetings on the schedule for today…” the receptionist trailed off as she raised an eyebrow at him. Bob let out an awkward laugh, glancing to her nametag and making a mental note that her name was ‘Sydney’, before answering her.

“Uh, no ma’am, sorry for the confusion. I’m a uh…friend of hers. She asked me to pick her up,”

Sydney’s eyes seemed to widen as she smiled, happily sitting up now in the chair once he’d explained himself.

“Oh! You must be the Lieutenant. Bob, right?” he gave her a nod as she typed something at her laptop before turning back to him. “Siren told me you’d be dropping by and would probably need directions- oh, and don’t mind the nickname, it’s just kind of a little inside joke around here that stuck. Take those stairs up to the second floor, the right side is dance studios, and her office is at the end of the hall to the left!”

With a quiet thank you, Bob followed her directions up the stairs and down to the left, though he could hear the music blasting from the dance studios down the hallway. At the very end of the hall, he saw your name on the plaque outside the one door ajar in the hallway.

With a light push to the door, so as not to freak you out, Bob leaned against the doorframe as he saw you working away at your laptop, singing softly to yourself as your own music played. He smiled softly to himself at the sight, even though inside he was still freaking out over the entire situation.

“So…Siren, huh?”

You jumped slightly at the voice until you turned, seeing that it was just Bob standing in the doorway of the office. He watched as you gave a slight laugh, beginning the process of packing your things up as you explained.

“God, of course, Sydney used that in front of you,” you turned, shooting him another smile as you packed your laptop away. “Context to this stupid inside joke probably helps, doesn’t it? I taught a salsa class my first week here, and this one student of mine thought I was such a good dancer she explained that my ‘dancing was so captivating, like a Siren’s song,’ and the next thing I knew the entire staff was calling me that.”

“Not a bad nickname,” Bob tried to reassure you as you joined him at the doorway with your things. “Better than your callsign being your name…or Hangman turning it into baby-on-board instead.”

You rolled your eyes, taking hold of his arm in your hand and dragging him lightly from the office doorway to lock up behind you, hopefully unaware of the frantic beating of his heart at even the slight contact.

“I’d rather get called that than get named after leaving my wingmen out to dry,” you gave him a pointed look that he laughed at before your features softened into something genuine again. “Thank you for being my hero today.”

“Anytime, Ikea,”

It was only halfway through the night at the Hard Deck when you’d let slip to Penny your nickname at work, and like vultures, the rest of the squad was dying to hear the story.

It was that night that, after living in San Diego for a month and a half, Bob watched the rest of his team officially induct you as an honorary member of the Dagger Squad with your very own callsign: Siren. You were officially one of them, even though you basically had been since the moment you’d arrived in the city.

From that day on, something shifted for Bob. He’d chalked it up to the ease he felt around you, the way you made him feel like he didn’t need to be flashy like Hangman to be liked, and he’d found it easier to finally branch out and text you about things NOT related to the wedding. And slowly, but surely, he was stopping by the campus on his very few rare off days from work to bring you lunch, simply talk to you in your office, or offer you a ride to the Hard Deck, knowing full well your car was parked in the campus lot.

Bob spent the next weeks slowly, but surely, falling in love with you in every way imaginable, and he knew it. It terrified him how easily you’d secured a place in his heart, and you weren’t even aware you had. Phoenix and Rooster had tried to pry the information out of him many times, wondering why he was so engrossed in his phone all the time or why he was suddenly so smiley, but he kept his lips sealed.

Besides, how was he supposed to tell the woman controlling the fighter jet that could kill him that he was kind of falling in love with her best friend?

It was one of those very rare off days that Bob found himself cleaning out his truck in his driveway, knowing that there were a few jackets and extra pairs of shirts, and pants to change into after leaving base that needed to come out of the car and into the wash. What he hadn’t expected was to find your jacket.

You’d worn it the night before to the Hard Deck, actually needing Bob to pick you up since your car was once again in the shop. The temperature was predicted to drop drastically that night, and since Payback and Fanboy had the bright idea to do ‘late night dogfight football,’ you’d told him that you wanted to ensure you were warm. You must have left it in his car when he’d dropped you off that night.

Bob hesitated for half a second before climbing into the driver’s seat of his truck. What if you needed your jacket? It totally wasn’t an excuse to see you.

Sydney knew him well at this point, simply waving hi to him as he entered the familiar campus building. He’d waved back, giving his thanks as she called out that you may not be in your office at this hour.

She’d been correct, but Bob had been by enough to know you had your class schedule written out on the board by the door of your office.

Contemporary Dance, 11:30 a.m. Room 149

The signs were easy enough to follow, leading him down the hallway toward the area he knew held the multiple dance studios. Your voice was easy enough to pick out as he stepped inside the room, catching you leading your class in front of the full wall of mirrors. He’d never seen you dance until now, but it only took a second to see why they all called you Siren.

You moved in a way that was graceful yet powerful, commanding and yet gentle all the same. Bob had to adjust the way he was leaning against the doorway, cursing himself for the fact that he was enjoying your dancing way too much, and the dirty thoughts in his head were fighting to come to the surface. You deserved more than being thought of in that way. You deserved a proper date, maybe over a nice meal with a walk along the beach. You deserved chivalry, for him to always open every door and walk on the outer edge of the sidewalk to keep you safe. You deserved more than his boyish, improper thoughts. What you deserved was the world, and Bob would give it to you if you just said the word.

You’d locked eyes with him in the mirror as the song and dance with your students came to an end, and his heart soared at the way it seemed your face lit up simply at seeing him. You bid a quick goodbye to your students, ushering them out of the room and onto their next class, before it was just the pair of you left as music still played over the room’s speakers.

“You didn’t text me and tell me you were coming?” you questioned the man, moving through the room to fix things up and put away anything your students had managed to move in the process of the class.

“You forgot this last night,” he held up your jacket. “Just figured I’d bring it back, sorry, I should’ve texted-”

“Bob, you’re more than welcome here whenever you want to come,” you cut in quickly, gesturing toward the far wall where your purse lay. “Thank you, just toss it over with the rest of my stuff.”

Bob did as you asked, now fully in the room with you, as he watched you fiddle with things around the room, moving them back to where he assumed they were before class had started. His hands found their way into the pockets of his jeans, keeping himself from wringing his hands together or from fiddling with the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel over and over again.

“I’ve never gotten to see you dance before…I get why they call you Siren,” he swallowed the small lump that seemed to form in his throat, slowly losing his nerve around you like he typically did. “Wish I knew how to do…all that.”

“Well, thank you, contemporary was one of the dance forms I primarily trained in during college,” you shot back at him, spinning on your heel to face him now as you tilted your head. “And come on, anyone can dance, it’s not that complicated.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen me try,” Bob laughed at himself, sheepishly rubbing at the skin on the back of his neck as he looked away from you. “I look like I have two left feet when dancing. Who knows how I’m going to survive this wedding in a few months.”

There was silence in the room before Bob heard you move. His eyes trailed back to you, watching as you grabbed your phone for just a moment, before the sweet sound of Kina Grannis’ voice overtook the room. His eyes stayed glued to you as you came to stand in front of him, holding out your hand with your palm facing the sky as you wore the prettiest, softest smile he’d ever seen.

“Dance with me?”

Bob thought surely that was the moment his heart was going to decide to give out on him, but in gazing at your kind eyes and smile full of affection, he placed his hand in your own and let you lead him.

God, your hand fit in his like it was made to be there.

He silently watched you, allowing you to wrap his one hand around your waist, giving it a squeeze before trailing your other hand to rest on top of his shoulder.

“Take a deep breath,” he followed your instructions as you gave a squeeze to his hand, still wrapped in your own. “Just follow me, I promise it’s not hard.”

Bob found his eyes glued to your feet as you slowly moved him around the room together, mumbling apologies every now and again as he stumbled or stepped on your toes, but you only ever gave him a comforting squeeze to his hand or shoulder. He never dared look up at you, afraid he’d lose all his cool if he had to look you in the eyes in this close proximity.

When he stumbled once more, you gave a small laugh, hand moving from his shoulder to his neck, gently tilting his jaw upwards to look at you.

“I promise it’s much easier if you don’t watch your feet,”

His eyes met yours, and it was like the entire world went silent in that moment, but the music playing through the sound system seemed to get louder.

But I can’t help, falling in love with you.

“There are those pretty blue eyes,” you teased as a blush coated his cheeks in seconds. It brought on another smile to see a similar one on your own, though. “Did Bradley tell you about their bachelor and bachelorette party idea?”

“He said they had an idea, just hadn’t told me yet,”

“Nat told me they thought a big combined party would be best, given that this friend group is just one giant pile of pilots,” Bob laughed, missing the feel of your hand on his jaw as it moved back to his shoulder. “Guess you and I have to get planning.”

“Maverick said Cyclone made it work so that we can all have a week off for it, just have to let them know when,”

“Perfect. Know what else is perfect?” Bob shook his head as your grin widened. “You are dancing perfectly since you stopped looking at your feet!”

Bob’s eyes widened as he looked down at his feet for just a moment, realizing you were right, before looking back up at you. It was like the world was throwing every sign in the world at him as the music seemed to feel louder once again.

For I can’t help, falling in love with you.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat once again, Bob mustered the softest smile for you he could.

“Guess I just have a great teacher,”

The weeks passed, and the wedding was only a month and a half out. You’d flown home with Natasha to your hometown in order to wedding dress shop with Nat’s sister and mother, and every detail had been meticulously planned out for the wedding. The venue had been chosen, a gorgeous little venue in the heart of San Diego just big enough to house the 150 or so guests that had been invited, and just a few blocks walk for the wedding party and family members who would be staying at the Lafayette Hotel San Diego.

The Best Man and the Maid of Honor had finalized the plans for the joint bachelor/bachelorette trip: a week stay in a gorgeous home by the Colorado River and just an hour’s drive from Lake Mead and Las Vegas, plenty of options for relaxing and true partying, just as Bradley and Natasha wanted. It had taken a while for Bob and you to hammer out the details, many dinners had been held in your office after stopping by, and many phone calls that managed to devolve into late-night conversations having nothing to do with the party planning. But Bob wouldn’t have it any other way.

He was hopelessly in love, and he knew it. Unfortunately for him, Bradley had caught on, too.

“Let’s go!” Natasha called out to the boys as they hopped out of Bradley’s truck, already running through the parking lot toward the campus building housing your office. “I want to get on the road before Hangman and the others beat us there. I want the best pick of the bedrooms!”

“Sweetheart, we’re the Bride and Groom, I’m pretty sure we automatically get best pick,” Nat flipped off her fiancé as the boys both laughed. The second she’d turned around, Bradley threw his arm over Bob’s shoulder and tugged him in. “So…want to finally tell me what’s up with you and little Miss Siren?”

Bob shook his head, trying to fight off the flush on his cheeks. The questions from Bradley on the topic had increased tenfold over the last few weeks, and it was getting harder to lie to him.

“We’re in charge of handling a bunch of the backend shit of your wedding, Rooster,” Bob managed to remind his friend as they reached the doors of the campus building. “We spend a lot of time together, that’s all.”

“But you’re in love with her, are you not?” Bob groaned, opening the glass doors and letting Bradley walk ahead of him. “I’m just asking! We can all see it, the entire squad has money in the betting pool for when you two will finally buck up and figure it out. Phoenix has interrogated her so many times and gets nowhere on it.”

“We’re about to leave on your joint bachelor/bachelorette trip, there’s enough love in the air with the two of you. Don’t worry about me and my non-existent love life,”

Bradley made another comment under his breath, but Bob didn’t catch it. His gaze quickly found Natasha at the receptionist's desk, talking to Sydney.

“I’ve been here once, but the building still confuses me. I can’t remember how to get to her office,” Natasha explained to the girl as Sydney simply laughed, waving it off.

“I understand. I used to get confused here all the time. It’s just up those stairs-” she cut herself off as she saw Bob and Bradley approach, her face brightening up at the sight of the former. “Oh, Lieutenant! You guys don’t need directions, he knows where he’s going. I think she canceled her last class of the day, so she should be up in her office!”

Bob felt that flush return in full force as Bradley clapped him on the shoulder.

“Not in love with her my ass,” he gave his shoulder a squeeze after mumbling the words before moving to his fiancée's side, and Natasha was just watching Bob with a cocked head.

“How often are you here, Floyd?”

Bob stumbled for a moment, his hand immediately coming to rub the back of his neck as he tried to find the words. He wanted to say he wasn’t here THAT often…but he knew that was a lie.

Like always, you somehow managed to save the day.

“Oh! I told you guys you could’ve waited in the car!” you’d called out, descending the stairs from your office with your suitcase for the week in hand. You bid your goodbyes to the two students walking at your sides, coming to stand beside Bob as you glanced around the small group with a questioning eyebrow. “I could cut the tension with a knife here. What did I miss?”

“Just…learning some new information,” Natasha settled on, a grin lighting up her face as she hooked her arm through your own, dragging you away from the two boys who could only laugh. “IT’S PARTY TIME!”

An almost 6 hours drive to the booked AirBNB for the week was a slight pain in the ass, but the four of you managed as you all continuously joked that you hadn’t ended up delegated to ride in Hangman’s truck with him. Bob couldn’t help the fact that every so often, his gaze drifted to the backseat in the rearview mirror, to where you and Nat were engrossed in a thousand different conversations that differed from his own and Rooster’s.

Without fail, you seemed to be looking back at him every time with a small smile that he treasured as if it were the sun itself.

Hangman, Payback, Coyote, and Fanboy had, sadly, beaten the Bride and Groom’s group to the house, but any bitter feelings surrounding it were forgotten as they’d gotten a look at the gorgeous home in person. Nestled in an area of the desert with barely any neighbors and gorgeous views for miles, including the Colorado River just down the hill from the long driveway, no one could harbor any ill feelings about anything as the sun was setting over the mountains and bathing the entire home in red, oranges, and pinks.

Bob had taken his own suitcase and yours, ignoring your protests, and brought them into the house. Everyone seemed to be running about, checking out the amenities, as some people put their claims on the bedrooms already. Natasha had dragged you off in the direction of the game room when Bob caught sight of Rooster whispering to Hangman and Fanboy, all three men watching him with a smirk.

“Hey, baby-on-board,” Hangman called out for him, smirk growing ever cockier by the second. “The rest of us have already staked claim on rooms, and of course, the couple has to share. Only room left is the sofa bed room in the back of the house…think Siren would mind sharing with you?”

If Bob’s eyes could pop out of his head, they would’ve. He shook his head, already knowing by the smirks on all three boys’ lips that this was planned well in advance.

“Guys-”

“Hey, Siren!” Fanboy called out just as you’d reentered the room. You stopped dead in your tracks, cocking an eyebrow at the guys as you waited. “Claims have already been staked on most of the bedrooms, perks of being the first ones here. You don’t mind sharing with Bobby boy, do you?”

“Guys, really-”

“I don’t mind,” you’d cut off Bob’s comment as he turned to you, eyes wide. He wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him, but he could’ve sworn he saw a flush cross your own skin as you looked at him. “Really, as long as it’s okay with you, I don’t mind.”

Bob looked back at the boys and their expectant smirks, then back to you, before finally taking a deep breath.

“Yeah…yeah, that’s fine with me,”

The truth was, Bob could barely focus on the entirety of dinner with the squad. He laughed, made jokes, and participated in conversations across the entire table the entire night, but his mind was stuck on the fact that he had to share a bed…with you.

Those nerves didn’t rest even as you both retired to your room for the night. The sofa bed had already been pulled out and made for the two of you. Bob had simply crawled into bed in silence, situating himself under the covers.

You entered the room moments later, having changed in the bathroom down the hall, and sent him a sweet smile as you crawled into your own side of the bed. Lying side by side, heads on their respective pillows, you both simply lay there and smiled toward one another.

“Sorry you got stuck with me,”

“I didn’t get stuck with you,” you’d rolled your eyes at his comment. “I’d take sharing with you over any of those Neanderthals any day.”

“Just promise not to drop any tables on me this trip, okay, Ikea?”

You’d laughed, even as you’d reached your foot out under the covers and kicked him lightly on the shin.

“If I managed to do that, I think I should get an award,” it was his turn to laugh as you flipped over, turning the bedside lamp off before tucking yourself into the covers. “Night, Bob.”

“Night, Ikea-”

“We’ve got to STOP with that nickname,”

He’d fallen asleep comfortably that night at your side, still laughing lightly to himself over that dumb little nickname he had for you that had found a way to stick. He wished his sleep had lasted longer, but it was quite the sight to see you leaning over him and shaking his shoulder with a grin.

“Get up!”

Bob groaned as you moved back to your side of the bed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab his glasses. The second his eyes focused, he checked the time on his phone. Slightly after 5:30 in the morning. Bob let out another groan when he saw the time.

“Why are you awake-”

“Just trust me and come on!”

He’d barely been out of bed and on his feet when you’d taken his hand in your own, dragging him down the dark hallways of the house. He wasn’t even fully awake enough to register your hand wrapped around his own.

The second you’d dragged him out onto the large patio deck of the home, he understood why you’d woken him up so early. If sunset had been pretty from this view, sunrise might’ve been even prettier.

The deep purple hues that crawled across the sky, blending into the fading night sky full of stars over the desert. The beginnings of reds and pink crawling out from the horizon, casting itself over the rolling desert hills and the Colorado River just barely in the distance, close enough he could see the colors reflecting off the water. He’d found himself leaning against the railing, gazing out at the colors for a moment before turning to you at his side, finding you already looking up at him.

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

You’d turned back to the view, but Bob’s eyes, full of wonder, stayed locked on you as he spoke.

“Prettier than anything I’ve ever seen,”

You’d stayed out there for awhile, small talk flowing through you, reminiscing on moments with the squad such as that terrible late night dogfight football, or the time you’d all watched on as Rooster handed Maverick’s ass to him in pool at the Hard Deck. Your hands sat on the railing next to one another, just barely touching, as your arms sat pressed up against one another. If Bob had more confidence, if he’d thought that maybe you felt the same for him, he might’ve taken the leap and reached out to take your hand in his own.

Neither of you had any clue how long you’d been out there admiring the view and simply talking. Bob heard a small noise behind you both after a while, glancing behind you both. Rooster simply stood in the patio doorway, a genuine grin on his face as he raised his coffee cup at his best friend with a wink, before leaving you alone together once more.

It was a week of memories that none of them would ever truly forget.

The entire day spent on the shores of Lake Mead was full of laughter, and what Fanboy had nicknamed ‘dogfight chicken’, though it didn’t have any different rules than a normal game of chicken did. You and Bob had reigned victorious through every single round, though Bob wasn’t sure how. His thoughts were flooded with you, and the impure thoughts he was having at the thought that his head was, quite literally, between your thighs as you sat on his shoulders, was driving him insane.

That next morning was worse for his thoughts, when he’d awoken early in the morning to you nestled in his arms, head resting against his chest, and his arms wrapped around you. He’d laid still like that for what felt like hours, both terrified of waking you up and freaking you out with the position you were in, while also savoring every second of it in fear it would never happen again. He’d pretended to be asleep when you finally woke up, letting you be the one to extricate yourself from his arms. Neither of you mentioned it to the other.

One full day and night had been dedicated to the Las Vegas strip and all it had to offer. Rooster was constantly nudging Bob in the side the entire day, reminding his friend that his eyes were supposed to remain on your face, not on the slit of the dress you wore running up and exposing your thigh.

No one knew who had drunkenly suggested it, but somehow they’d found themselves at a Magic Mike show. Plenty of videos had been taken as a form of blackmail as Hangman was subjected to a lap dance from the performers of the show, constantly telling Coyote to ‘piss off about it’ the rest of the night.

That next morning, Bob had woken up to you entangled in his arms once again. And the morning after that.

The Dagger Squad’s final day of the trip was spent together at the home, simply enjoying one another's company as more stories of everyone’s childhood had been shared across the board. Bob had even been roped into a story of him working on his parents' ranch back in Montana at one point, which prompted a whole discussion on whether Bob was technically considered a cowboy or not.

The WSO had found himself frozen in the kitchen that night, simply watching you from the window. You and Natasha sat on the patio together, pointing up at the light pollution-free sky as you seemed to be watching the stars, discussing what could be seen that night, hundreds of thousands of miles above your heads. He’d watched you throw your head back laughing, and that tug in his chest when he looked at you seemed to increase tenfold in that moment.

It wasn’t long later that Rooster was opening his bedroom door, coming to find that it was Bob standing on the other side of the door and knocking frantically.

“Bob-”

“You were right…I’m in love with her,”

“Well,” both boys turned, seeing Natasha had entered the hallway at just the right moment to join her future husband for bed and hear the conversation occurring. Bob’s blood ran cold, fearing the worst, but she simply smiled at him. “It’s nice to finally hear you admit the obvious.”

A long conversation with his best friends came with the feeling of a small weight being lifted off his shoulders, of finally having admitted his feelings out loud. They’d encouraged him to act on it, to tell you how he felt, but Bob couldn’t get rid of the nagging insecurity in the back of his head that he was never going to be good enough for you.

When he’d returned to your room that night and crawled into bed, you were still awake. You had both simply laid there in silence for a moment, staring at one another, and Bob could see the hesitation in your movements for just a moment. You seemed to throw your inhibitions out the window, moving across the bed and slotting yourself into Bob’s arms, curling yourself around him as you buried your head into the crook of his neck.

It threw Bob for a loop. Every night this week, you’d awoken like this, tangled together, but he’d assumed that it had just naturally happened in your sleep, that one of you reached out for the other. But you were awake, you were both aware of what you were doing, and yet you took the leap anyway. Bob chose not to push his luck, not to ask, and simply wrapped his arms around you, closing his eyes with you tucked right against him where he felt you belonged.

“Can I tell you something?” Bob whispered to you after moments of silence wrapped up together, neither of you addressing the compromising position you’d put yourself in.

“Always,”

“You…” Bob struggled for a moment, trying to find his words and the right thing to say. ‘Love’ was dancing on his lips, but his insecurities tugged it back in. When he spoke again, he knew he meant the words, even if it was not what he meant to say. “You’re my best friend. Don’t tell Rooster that.”

There was a pause, then a soft laugh, as you seemed to cling to him tighter, your words and breath ghosting over his skin.

“You’re my best friend, too. Just don’t tell Nat,”

There had been another shift in the relationship between you and Bob in those next few weeks leading to the wedding night, and everyone seemed to be able to see it. A simple confession, albeit not the confession Bob had wanted to say that night, seemed to change everything.

Anytime the group was out together, you both were glued to one another’s side. This time, unlike in the months prior, it was as if the pair of you had to be touching. If you were all walking somewhere, your arm was linked through his with your hand resting on his bicep. The entire group noticed the way that, as you all hugged one another goodbye at the end of a night, you and Bob seemed to linger in one another’s embraces longer than usual.

There was the night at the Hard Deck, laughing over some story Maverick was telling them from the glory days, that Bob felt your hand reach for his under the table, wordlessly slotting itself into his own. That moment replayed in his head every single day and night, even as he fell asleep late into the morning hours with you still on the phone with him.

They were the moments that he couldn’t help but replay constantly, even as he stood in the preparation room of the wedding venue, adjusting his dress whites to ensure that nothing was out of place.

“How are we looking over here, Rooster?” Hangman called out, moving through the room to check on the groom himself.

“Ready to do this thing,” Rooster told him as Bob joined the pair across the room. Bradley placed a hand on each of their shoulders, his Best Man and his only other Groomsman, all standing together in their matching Navy dress whites, and gave them a thankful smile. “Thank you both for doing this. For being here with me.”

Bob grinned at his best friend as Rooster pulled them both into a hug, before it was go time.

Bradley was already stationed at the altar behind the double doors before them, leaving Bob to stand just behind the doors, ready to lead the charge down the aisle for his best friends to get married. He turned as he heard the voice of Natasha’s sister behind them, taking her place beside Hangman for the walk. His gaze then turned to you as you slotted yourself to his side, and it took everything in him not to whisk you off your feet the second he laid eyes on the form fitting, navy blue dress clung to your body, or the plunging neckline he was desperately trying to keep his eyes off of.

“She’s all set up with her dad back there,” you’d told him softly, winding your arm through his as your hand lay on his forearm, eyes never leaving his own. “We’re good to go the second the music kicks in. You ready?”

“Think Rooster would kill me if I wasn’t, he’s antsy down there,” you’d laughed, and Bob had smiled. His favorite sound in the world. “You…you look beautiful.”

“Right back at you, Lieutenant,”

There were smiles and tears throughout the crowd as you and Bob led the charge down the aisle, taking your places on either side of where Natasha and Bradley would stand. The second Natasha was escorted down the aisle by her father, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house, Rooster and you included. Bob found himself watching you, though, as you happily took Nat’s bouquet from her hands through your tears.

They recited after their Pastor, they exchanged their vows, but Bob found his eyes betraying him and glancing at you more often than at his best friends. Every time he looked to you, he found you were already looking at him.

He knew there was no going back the second Natasha Trace and Bradley Bradshaw were pronounced man and wife, that they’d pulled one another into their first kiss as a married couple, and his eyes had drifted to you in the celebration. All he could think in that moment was that he wanted that to be you and him, that he wanted to hold you and kiss you and call you his forever.

It felt like a blur to Bob what happened next. The entire Dagger Squad joined together to perform the Arch of Swords for their best friends, smiles never leaving anyone’s faces. Bob had sat right next to you during dinner, unable to keep his eyes off of you the entire time. Then, you’d rose to your feet and took hold of the microphone passed to you, preparing for the speech you’d spent your entire life writing.

“If you don’t know me, the truth is you probably indirectly do. Because any story that Natasha has told you from any point in her life? I was most likely at every single one of those,” you’d turned to Natasha the second you said that, and Bob could see the tears in both of your eyes. “Natasha, or as many in this room know you, Phoenix, you hit me on the head with a soccer ball in Kindergarten, and I knew from that moment on you would be my best friend. I watched you fall in and out of love with both soccer and softball growing up, witnessed you punch two middle schoolers who broke my heart, and watched you fall in love with the idea of someday flying F-18s for the rest of your life. I’m forever proud to say that I’ve watched you achieve everything you’ve ever wanted in life, and I’m so happy that I’ve gotten to be here for all of it. But most importantly, I’m glad your passion also brought you the love you have always deserved. Bradley, I’m proud to call you one of my best friends in life now, and I could not be happier to know that you two have found one another.”

You’d raised your champagne glass through your tears, as the room followed suit, even as Natasha silently sobbed from her place beside Bradley.

“They say that love is simply just a friendship that caught on fire,” Bob’s breath caught for just a moment, swearing that he saw your eyes flicker to him for just a moment, before you continued to talk. “May it burn bright for many years to come, and fly higher than you both do every day in the San Diego skies.”

There were still the remnants of tears streaming down your face as you took your place beside Bob once again, allowing Natasha’s sister to give her own speech. Bob watched you in silence before, in a leap of faith, reaching his hand out for your own. You took it without a word, squeezing onto it in a vice-like grip and refusing to let go.

The reception was in full swing, and everyone was in party mode. Natasha and Bradley were the stars of the show in their first dance, revealed in their speeches previously to have been taught by none other than you.

The bouquet toss had the entire Dagger Squad erupting into cheers, almost trying to carry you off the dance floor, the second Natasha’s bouquet seemed to find you among the young women in the crowd as if meant just for you.

You. God, you had consumed every ounce of Bob’s thoughts for weeks and months now, and tonight was no different. In the ever-changing landscape that was life, you were like the North Star in Bob’s eyes, his one constant since the moment you’d walked into the Hard Deck.

“As a wedding gift to us, could you just grow some balls and finally ask her out?”

Bob jumped, startled, as Bradley and Natasha appeared at his side from where he stood on the outside of the dance floor. He sighed, seeing the expectant looks on their faces, before glancing back to where you danced with the rest of the fighter pilots you’d grown so close to over the last few months.

“She’s, like, walking perfection on legs, guys. She could do better than the socially awkward fighter pilot that is…me,”

“Except she doesn’t want to,” Natasha cut in. She sighed, resting a hand on Bob’s shoulder before glancing out toward her best friend. “I’ve known her my entire life, Bob, and she doesn’t take to people the way she’s taken to you. She looks for you in every room, she talks about you constantly…she was dying to meet you just from the photos I’d shown you. I’ve never seen her act the way she does when she’s with you, Bob.”

The words sparked a small flame of hope in his chest, a flame just strong enough to push away the insecurities that begged to claw their way out. He looked back at his best friends, the glow of marriage surrounding them, with that flame of hope shining in his eyes.

“What if you’re wrong?”

“What if we’re right?” Rooster cut in, giving him a small shrug. “Maverick said it best to me months ago…don’t think, just do.”

Don’t think, just do. Maverick always knew what to say, didn’t he?

A slower song had begun on the dance floor, and Hangman could see Bob stalking their way. A smirk crossed the man’s face as he took hold of your hand, spinning you in Bob’s direction, before leading the rest of the Dagger Squad off the floor.

Bob stood in front of you, mustering every ounce of confidence he could find in him, as he held out his hand toward you, palm facing the sky.

“Dance with me?”

A smile might’ve been permanently etched into your lips as you took his hand in yours. Bob’s other hand immediately found your waist, his hand resting on your lower back as he tugged you into him as tightly as he could, your other hand resting on his shoulder as the iconic Berlin song played through the reception.

Watching in slow motion as you turn around and say…take my breath away.

Neither of you said a word for a minute, though your eyes never left one another as you simply swayed side to side across the dance floor, fully aware of the watchful eyes of your friends on you from the sidelines.

“You know…” you were the one to start the conversation, somehow managing to pull yourself even closer to Bob. There was a teasing tone to your voice, nose bumping against his for a moment. “I’ve been kind of waiting for you to ask me out for months.”

A weight seemed to leave Bob’s shoulders the second you spoke, his mind finally being calmed with the fact that you did, indeed, return his affections, that it wasn’t all a misunderstanding in his mind.

“Thought at first it broke some kind of friendship code to fall in love with your best friend’s childhood best friend. Then…I got scared you wouldn’t feel the same,” you laughed lightly at his comment, though Bob could see the way you brightened the second he’d said the word ‘love’ in his explanation. “How long…how long have you felt this way?”

“The schoolgirl crush started when I dropped that table on you, even though I thought you were plenty cute just based on the photos Nat had showed me before,” to was Bob’s turn to laugh as your hand traveled up to the nape of his neck, tangling gently in the hair now carded through your fingers. Somewhere behind them, he swears he could hear Fanboy cheer at the motion. “Somewhere in the midst of a bunch of mini lunch dates and dancing with you for the first time is when it changed.”

“I’ve got you beat there,” Bob countered with a laugh, looking down sheepishly. “After I picked you up from work that one time, when the rest of the guys started calling you Siren. It changed for me after that night.”

There was a slight tug on the hair threaded through your fingers, and Bob resisted everything in him not to let out a groan. His eyes flicked back up to you immediately, almost pleading with you not to do that again before he dragged you out of the reception, and he could see the amusement dancing in your eyes at the reaction you received.

“It's not a competition. We know now,” you slid the hand that rested in his own back up his arm, instead cupping his jaw in your hand as a shiver ran through his body. “Though, I thought I was being quite obvious with literally cuddling you in bed.”

Bob’s now freehand found your hip, eliminating any space between you both as if it were even possible. Given their surroundings, he wouldn’t be surprised if there were murmurs about how what was happening was far from appropriate for the setting they were in.

“It should’ve been. We can blame my insecurities for that one,”

He watched you in silence, still swaying to the beat of the song. Your eyes flickered, for the briefest of moments, down to his lips as Bob’s grip tightened from the sight.

Watching in slow motion as you turn my way and say…take my breath away. My love, take my breath away.

His eyes fluttered half shut, throwing caution to the wind now that he knew he had you, and leaned in. His lips were met with your finger pressed against them, though, and when he’d opened his eyes, your pupils may have been blown wider and your voice may have gained a slight rasp it didn’t have before, but there was clear amusement dancing across your features.

“Trying to kiss me at the wedding of our best friends? How scandalous, you know it’s their night to be the center of attention,” Bob groaned, even as his cheeks flushed, forehead falling to your shoulder. He felt your body shake with laughter before your lips ghosted over his ear. “We’ve waited this long, Lieutenant, what’s a little longer?”

Longer was torture, Bob had decided, but it was a torture spent with you still wrapped around his side. You’d danced the night away into the early hours of the morning with all of your friends, until it was finally time to end what was surely the best night of Natasha and Bradley’s lives.

The newly married couple had bid everyone goodbye before they were off to their own private villa for the night. The wedding party and family made the trek down the road together toward the Lafayette, Hangman and Coyote holding up a very drunk Payback who was belting Celine Dion down the sidewalk.

You’d thrown your head back laughing, hand intertwined with Bob’s as you brought up the rear of the pack.

The squad all said their goodbyes to Maverick and Penny, who’d essentially stood in as Rooster’s family, and to Natasha’s own family, before they’d made their way to the floor blocked off specifically for them. Everyone had thrown out goodnight, disappearing into the private rooms to sleep off their hangovers into the early hours of the morning.

Bob was the last the the Top Gun pilots to still be standing at his door. He’d fished out his own door key, before pausing before inserting it into the lock, glancing down the other end of the hallway.

There you stood, shoes in hand as you leaned against the doorway of your open hotel room. Your eyes never left his, and Bob’s room key found it’s way back into the pocket of his dress whites as he was across the entire hotel room floor in seconds.

Your eyes never seemed to leave one another as you both drifted into the room, Bob’s hand splayed across the edge of the room door, shutting it softly behind you both. The second it was closed, the room was only bathed in the soft, nighttime light of Dan Diego that poured through the curtains and the warm, yellowed glow of the single lamp lighting up the corner of the room.

Bob’s hands found your waist as yours found his neck, and he fell into you as if you were two atoms destined to collide with one another from the moment you met.

Your lips were soft against his, your lipstick already having been smudged off throughout the night from the many drinks passed between friends, but he could taste the cherry and vanilla Chapstick buried underneath. That simple taste elicited a groan from deep inside of him as his desire to simply feel you, to hold you, overtook Bob.

He backed you into the closest wall, right beside the door of the room, and your body immediately arched into him. His hand slid it’s way from your waist down to your thigh, digging into it as he hoisted it up around his own waist, the slit up the dress giving way to allow you to cling to him in earnest.

His hair was a mess as your hands moved into it, your lips never parting. He simply tilted his head, swallowing the moan you let out the second he gripped onto your waist tighter and tugged you impossible closer.

“Pretty sure Fanboy is right next door,” Bob had managed to mumble into your lips, unable to fully pull away from you. You nipped at his lower lip, this time a deep moan leaving him which had you giggling back into the kiss.

“I’ve waited long enough to kiss you, Bob Floyd. I don’t really give a damn if we keep him awake,”

Bob pulled back slightly in the dim lighting, hand leaving your thigh to instead cup your cheek, to simply observe and memorize everything about you. He loved you, he loved you more than he ever thought it was possible to love someone, and he never wanted to forget the look in your eyes right now as you looked at him through lust riddled eyes.

Your hand found his, removing it from your cheek and instead to your back. His breath caught for a second as it touched the zipper at the top, and one single look in your eyes had him tugging it down as slowly and sensually as possible.

Bob could feel your breath catch the second his lips found your neck, leaving a trail across your skin and down to your collarbone as the zipper finally came undone, the pool of navy colored fabric dropping into a heap on the floor.

You’d barely given him a second to truly admire the masterpiece he thought was you as a whole before you’d tugged him back into a kiss, your hands working overtime to gently undo the buttons holding his Navy dress whites together.

His hat was long gone on the floor, and soon every article of his dress whites joined it. He couldn’t help but smile as you laughed, watching him quickly lean down to grab the formal clothing of his and yours, folding it neatly into a pile in the corner. When he’d looked back up, you were standing just inches away, falling back into his arms without another word. His own breath caught, shiver running down his skin at the feeling of your soft, supple skin simply on his igniting a fire in him he’d never felt before.

Your hands came up, adjusting his glasses to sit on the bridge of his nose as they were meant to, and Bob wasted no time in pulling you back into a bruising kiss that had you falling back onto the lush, fancy bedspread behind you both.

As you’d crawled your way back up the bed, head hitting the pillows waiting by the ornate headboard, Bob simply hovered over you, taking you all in fully for the first time, memorizing every square inch of you that existed. He wanted it all committed to memory.

His eyes trailed back to yours finally, to the shining affection and adoration in them, and the words finally tumbled out of his mouth.

“I love you,”

Your hands cupped his jawline, bringing him back down to you to place a gentle, loving kiss on his lips that he sighed right into, leaning into the feel of you that he was already addicted to.

“I love you too,”

The pair of you stayed there for a moment, wrapped up in the sweetest and most loving of kisses that rivaled the passionate moment the moment you’d stepped into the room. Until Bob began to laugh lightly against your lips, the actions bringing a smile to your own face.

“What’s so funny, Lieutenant?”

He shook his head, backing up for just a moment to fully look down at you.

“It’s just uh…you know what they say about the Best Man and the Maid of Honor, don't you?”

Your laughter rang through the room immediately, and he knew Natasha must have said something to you along the same lines of what Bradley had whispered to him in the middle of the Hard Deck. Your hands ran down his shoulder, taking hold of his biceps with a small squeeze.

“Something about how they’re always destined to fall in love. God, how cliché of us,”

Every moment with you flooded Bob’s head in that moment as he looked down at you. From the moment you’d walked into the Hard Deck, to the moment he danced with you, to that fated trip where it all changed, and every moment in between. To now, as you laid almost bare before him, gazing up at him with love written across every inch of your features, as if you’d do just about anything he could’ve asked of you in that moment. And you would, just as he’d do the same for you.

So, his thumb ran across your lips for a moment, before he’d taken the back of your neck in his hand and tugged you upwards into another passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of love his body had into it.

“Yeah…but I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

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