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ethereal-inquisitor · 5 months ago

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🥵 that’s literally all I can say. This is glorious.

IRL Plug and Play || Poly!141 x Fem!Reader

Summary: Third part of my Search History series (based on Penelope Garcia from Criminal minds) , the dinner party. The culmination of a month of knowing the boy's browser histories. Not much of a summary, it's pretty much dirty from start to finish.

18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Warning: Fem pronouns and genitals, alcohol consumption, alcohol used during sex, porn, emulating porn, group sex, unprotected sex, tagging dub con just to be on the safe side but not really if you read the other parts you get it, Oral (M & F recieiving), fingering, penetration (F receiving) , allusions to penetration (male recieving), inappropriate use of cigar ashes. Genuinely this is just me being gross about these men for almost 12,000 words, proceed with caution. Say it with me one more time- irl this would be workplace harassment and NOT sexy. However, these are fictional war criminals who ARE sexy so we’re forgiving it.

Original Idea First Prev My Masterlist

made a lil header for the first time these are the vibes of reader and 141 :) (not Penelope's psychical description just her vibes)

pssst see how they're all on their mics in the pics?? its cuz your the voice in their ears :)

When you pulled into a parking spot on John Price’s street thirty minutes early, you automatically feel squirmy and a little foolish. Foolish because you’d convinced yourself that you were reading too much into things. So much so, that, somehow, the boys seeking out your porn twin had circled back around to you feeling like the unprofessional one. Squirming because you’d found the video they’d all watched more than once (more than three times) in the last days of their assignment. Barrack’s Bunny Get’s Gang Banged!

(Of course it was a military inspired orgy video, with four men and one woman that looked almost identical to you. Because, JFC, why wouldn’t it be? Was this actress in on the torment? Was she taking requests or was this some sort of cosmic joke where the punchline was your own sexual frustration?)

Ok, how the hell were you not supposed to read into that?

You hadn’t been able to watch it all the way through yet, having to pause and take breaks to calm yourself down. The thumbnail alone of your doppelgänger with four sets of hands and… other extremities... was enough to tempt you put your car back in drive and go back home. Because you weren’t sure you could look any of them in the eyes, and also for the third time in the last hour, you were second guessing your outfit.

Because what the hell does one wear to the porn-party with their boss and superiors? (Ok, maybe you should start by stop calling it the ‘porn-party’, because outside of your own finding in their browser histories, they’d yet to mention any actual porn to you in real life, but what else were you supposed to call this?)

After leaving work, you’d spent a long time debating if you needed to change and, if so, into what, and would it be delusional to put on a matching set? Johnny did say he liked seeing something soft… And were your work clothes too stiff? Was the skirt too presumptuous after that video Kyle liked titled Easy Access ? And was it just you or did your work blouse look slightly too much like the one from the office-scene Price had bookmarked? And why the hell was this all you could think about? Strewing your clothes around your bedroom like a teenager before a party, different combinations and options littering your bed and dresser until you got frustrated with yourself and your closet. With a what the hell moment of ambivalence, you’d settled on something comfortable, but switched into a lacy bralette, lying to yourself that it was more comfortable than the one you’d worn to work, and if the lacy strap happened to coquettishly accent your shoulder when your sweater sleeve slipped down your arm? Well, if it wasn’t a Porn Party, then no one would notice, and if it was, well it’d be sure to draw some appreciative eyes.

Your car was still cranked as you sat slightly down the block from Price’s house in your casual sweater and hidden matching set, anxiously killing time by alternating between tik tok, instagram, tumblr, and oh yes, the Barracks Bunny Gets Gang Banged video that you’d been working through thirty seconds at a time because any longer had your overheating and threatening to leave a snail trail on your upholstery. So enthralled and flustered, you’d barely thought of the fact you were quietly playing porn over your car’s bluetooth system, you’d made it to the official halfway mark, and each time you’d switched out to a different app, the ‘break’ was short lived as you went back for more, one hand white knuckling your steering wheel as if this was a particularly good movie with a plot twist you just couldn’t miss.

So enthralled, that a sudden knocking on your window startled you so bad that you half-tossed-half-dropped your phone with a sound that could only be described as a ’squawk’ as you slammed the mute button to your car’s stereo. It was as you were turning towards the knocker, that you realized you could 100% catch a public indecency charge for this, and somehow were still only half relieved to find Johnny leaning slightly down so he could meet your gaze through your driver-side window. He had his raincoat on, and a lit cigarette pinched between his thumb and pointer as he looked in on you with a cheeky smile and raised brows. When you just stared up at him like a deer in headlights, mentally trying to figure out just how long he’d been there and if from that angle he could’ve seen your screen and how good was the sound proofing on your car…. As you ran those mental calculations, Johnny simply knocked again and this time added a downwards motion with his cigarette, requesting you to roll down the window.

You’d never noticed how slow your windows descended as the two of you held eye contact (awkward on your side, delighted on his), until there was no longer a pane of glass between you. The cool, damp night breeze carried the scent of tobacco and some kind of Old Spice fragrance into your little car as you looked up at the Scotsman. He seem amused, but happy to see you, "Coming?"

Your brain short circuited for a moment. Were you… cumming? You stared at him wide eyed, convinced you’d misheard him.

"What?" Was all you managed to respond with, your brain still trying to scrub filthy, lewd images from between its lobes, like a community service volunteer cleaning graffiti off subway walls. Johnny’s eyebrows only raised higher with his signature, Can’t wait to tell Ghost about this look, as he took another deep puff of his cig.

"Are ye coming inside, hen?" He clarified slowly with that shit eating grin after blowing his smoke away form you- what a gentleman, "Or are’ye planning to sit out here all night?"

"Oh, right." You mumbled, resisting the urge to scrub your hands across your face to physically redirect your thoughts. Instead, you nodded and started gathering your things, "Yeah, yeah, I’m coming inside."

"Good, Si was getting impatient." Johnny grinned, stepping back so you could open your car door after you fished your phone from the passenger floorboards and cut the engine. Si? You hadn’t head that nickname for Ghost before, hell, you still excusively called him Ghost to his face, because you’d not received permission for anything else. Simon was personal, Si… was intimate... He watched you expectantly, snapping you out of your thoughts, and when you only responded in silent confusion, he reached inside the still open vehicle and tapped the buttons, "Window, bonnie, s'raining."

Cheeks heating in mild embarrassment, you quickly cut the battery back on so you roll up the window and then get out. You’d always been a little scatter-brained, prone to being in your own little world, but this was getting excessive. Maybe all the porn really was melting your brain… With the windows up and double checking the car was off, you finally got out of the car. Johnny immediately took the plate of brownies out of your hand in the guise of gentlemanly conduct, but actually snuck one from under the plastic wrap before you could scold him.

"Why so grim? Y’look like yer marching off to war." Johnny seemed pretty pleased with his own little joke, his free arm resting in the small of your back to guide you up Price’s porch step and into the house like you might run off down the street without his guidance. You were considering it anyways.

"I don’t look grim." You shot him a look but didn’t shake off his arm, nor could you prevent the smile that was fighting at the corners of your mouth, snatching the brownies back from him before he could snag another, happy to have something to fidget with as you smoothed the plastic wrap back into place.

"No, you most definitely do not." And there was the other sergeant, Kyle, holding the door open for the two of you. Smiling as charmingly as ever, Kyle was already taking the dish out of your hands only to hand the dessert back to Johnny to carry off somewhere else. Then, he was on you, "Glad you could make it, love. Don’t listen to Soap, you look beautiful.” “Hey! Dinnae say she couldn’t be grim and beautiful.” Soap called back, already on his way deeper into the house.

"Such a shameless flirt." You scoffed just loud enough to drown out Johnny with your own teasing smile, a more usual routine amongst all the overthinking you’d been doing, as Gaz helped you out of your coat. Maybe you were imagining the sensuality, but you were not imagining how his touch lingered, and how his fingers grazed the fabric of your sweater as it was exposed. Hell, he was basically unwrapping your raincoat like it was the gift wrap on a present, "Don’t look half bad yourself, though."

All the boys looked good in their civilian clothes, hell they’d all look good in anything (or nothing… Focus. Focus.). But Kyle? In his stylish and tailored clothes? He always looked he’d walked off a J. Crew magazine cover when he wasn’t on base. His burgundy sweater looked like something you wanted to rub your cheek against, soft and warm and it fit him like a glove. Gaz grinned at your little praise, not speeding up his maddeningly slow pace of peeling off your raincoat and adjusting your hair for you afterwards, which distracted you just enough that you didn’t notice the others watching his little show. One of his lingering fingers seemed to all together abandon it’s mission, instead tracing the arced lace strap of your (meticulously chosen) lace bralette strap that had fallen off your shoulder. You watched Kyle’s finger follow the flowery lace pattern for a moment before fixing back on your shoulder with an audible snap! that made you jump a little from the sting.

This time you did see Johnny’s amused grin and slightly devious eyes as your own went wide and you let out a little yelp, snapping your eyes over your soldier at the sergeant. Gaz was quick to soothe the ouch, humming at you before you could get disgruntled while his warm palm cupped the curve of your shoulder and rubbed the slightly stinging skin softly. And if you were still reading into things (you were) you could swear it was just for him to have a reason to touch you more.

"Sorry, love, had to fix it, was bothering me." Was the only explanation offered for his actions. Once your jacket was off, Gaz hung it on the foyer hooks, it looking comically small and feminine between all four of theirs. You knew your brain was melted from all the porn when the visual immediately reminded you of the stupid video’s thumbnail picuture… the pretty, feminine actress with four huge actors surrounding her… Fortunately, Kyle tugging you further into the house pulled you out of your dirty-thought spiral.

In the kitchen, John Price was waiting, marinating a platter of steaks. You couldn’t help the amused quirk of a smile at seeing the apron tied over his civilian clothes, an unlit cigar in the chest pocket for easy access. The captain smiled first to Gaz with an approving nod, and then to you with a teasing smirk, "Thought you’d sit out in your car all night."

"I’m early." You defended yourself, cheeks now must be permanently stained into a flush with how easily they managed to fluster you. Gaz parked himself right beside you, leaning on the counter but standing so close that his shoulder was slotted slightly behind you, half his chest pressed to your back, distractingly proving your early guess that his sweater was, in fact, very soft. It took the steam out of your vehement defense, "You said, eight. It’s 7:50."

"Yeah, but you’ve been sitting out there since 7:30, love." Kyle chided. You wondered if it was the whiskey he was sipping that gave him the courage to puncuate his teasings with a slight pinch to your hip that made you squirm. His closeness kept you from slipping away as he shifted his attention to his captain, that easy going smile still on his face, "She brought brownies."

"I know. Johnny’s already had two." Price smiled, slathering another steak with marinade and massaging it into the meat with tender but deliberate ministrations of his long fingers that, for a moment, made you jealous of a dead slab of beef. His eyes caught yours staring at his hands, chuckling as he cleared his throat, "We had something else in mind for dessert. Very sweet of you though."

Something Price said made Kyle chuckle like it was some kind of inside joke, his fingers still on your hip, tracing little circles that were almost as distracting as… whatever the hell it was that Price was doing to the steaks.

"Now, go off and relax. I’m about to cut onions and we don’t want to mess up that pretty make up." Price ordered, shooing you off towards his stocked bar cart, before adding quietly enough you thought you might have hallucinated it, "Not yet, anyways."

Later, after you’d been supplied a drink and deposited on the couch with Ghost to watch what you were pretty sure was a rugby match (you were a little distracted by his warm arm draped over your shoulder, fingers tracing the same floral lace Gaz had).

"Gonna have to make some more room, love." Kyle grinned, looking down at you, holding his drink in one hand and one of your brownies in the other. You looked around yourself, already sandwhiched between the armrest of the sofa and Ghost who hadn’t closed his legs even a fraction when Johnny’d led you to the couch originally. Wasn’t much room to make room with.

"Oh, I can just-" you started, standing carefully as to not spill the drink Kyle had made for you. Before you could step away to claim the plush arm chair by the mantle (a safe distance from Simon’s thigh against yours and Kyle’s lingering touches), a strong arm wrapped around your middle and tugged you right back down. Instead of your original seat, however, it was Ghost who had pulled you side saddle into his lap, his other hand steadying the drink in yours. Gaz chuckled, taking the spot you had been sitting in, both men unbothered by your startled yelp.

Despite the fact that Simon had forecully and silently pulled you onto his lap, when you gave him a bewildered look, he seemed not to even notice the fact you were sitting on him, his amber eyes focused on the fame playing even as his finger’s kneaded distracting little circles into the plushest part of your waist, his arm still wrapped around you like you might try and escape. And when you just blinked at him, his only offering was, "Tha’s Price’s chair."

"Ye look comfy." Soap chided as he came around the corner with a beer and a lo-ball glass of some sort of whiskey, beer for himself and the (presumably) bourbon was given to Simon, both however, were offered to Simon, "Crack that for me, Si?"

You watched, wide eyed and enamored, as he lifted his mask over his nose and used his teeth to crack the bottle open before taking a long swig and then handing it back to Johnny in exchange for the whiskey. You had a front row seat to the bob of his Adam’s apple, and the way a scar split the top corner of his lip vertically (you wondered if you would feel the scar if he was kissing you, focus, damnit, focus). Soap noticed your expression and the blush in your cheeks with a twinkle in his eyes, " ’s not nice to stare, bonnie."

You stared a moment longer before forefully shaking yourself out of the stupor and taking a swig of your own drink, thankfully ice cold. The momentary pause allowed you to dip back into your usual well of sarcastic wit, offering the Scot a raised eyebrow, "You’re just jealous I’m not staring at you."

Johnny only shrugged, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa, making his broad chest only seem broader, his grin showing just enough teeth to appear wolfish as his thigh pressed into Ghost’s and therefore the round of your ass, "Aye, maybe I am."

"Ignore him, he’s been watching too much…" Simon started swirling then sipping his bourbon before tugging his mask down again afterwards. You knew the answer to his trail off and your internal body temp went up five degrees, alarm bells ringing in your brain. Johnny elbowed the taller man, so Simon only shrugged and finished lamely with, "stuff."

Porn. He’s been watching a lot of porn. You all have. I know that. You know that. We all know that. You brain chanting in time with those stupid circles he was rubbing on your hip as Johnny took the liberty of adjusting the hair off your shoulder, his voice a challenging chide, "What’s that look for, bonnie? What’d you think he was gonna say?"

Your mouth opened, and then closed, and you were saved from answering by Price coming into the living room, declaring the steaks were marinating so they had a while to just hang out. He gave Kyle a shoulder squeeze in passing, and offered you a warm smile before settling in his chair by the mantle. The chair you’d tried to escape to earlier.

For a get-together planned around watching the game, it occurred to you that not a single eye was on the TV at the moment. Instead, you realized they were all on… you. Price in his chair, smoothing his beard. Simon still had you on his lap, amber eyes carefully scrutinizing your expression as you flicked your eyes over to Gaz, who was watching you- or rather the rise and fall of your chest as he pulled your legs into his lap- with a slightly cocked head, a small smile on his lips. And finally, Johnny, who’d not stopped fidgeting with your hair and the neckline of your sweater.

Once again, you were uncharacteristically at a loss for words, squirming a bit on Simon’s lap as you tried to figure out what to say or if to say anything at all, because all that was coming to mind right now were two options. Are y’all trying to fuck me? and How’s the weather?. Both options made you want to crawl in a hole and stay there.

"You’re quiet tonight, sweet, something on your mind?" Price raised his eyebrows, still smirking, knuckles tapping against the armrest, "Something you wanted to tell the boys, right? What we talked about in my office?"

How were you supposed to broach the topic of their internet history, essentially admit to knowing about your XXX twin, while sitting on your superior's lap, having your hair played with, and your calves massaged through your leggings…

"No, no. Just… enjoying my drink." You muttered, draining the rest of the beverage before leaning over to place the empty glass on the side table, which was a mistake because it just had you practically sprawled over the three men on the couch, "What game are we supposed to be watching tonight?"

"Never mind that, hen." Johnny shrugged, clicking the TV off before tossing the remote to Price, "We’ve been into a… different form of entertainment lately."

Yeah. I know. The problem is that I know. You thought to yourself, now not even able to pretend to watch the screen, forced to focus on all the hands and eyes on you.

"Let’s stop dancing around it." Simon gruffed, resting his head against the back of the couch, his fingers trailing from your hip to the top of your thigh, "She’s not daft."

"Lieutenant Riley, always the subtle one." Gaz rolled his eyes before sliding his eyes over to Price who gave him an affirmative nod, not unlike they would do in the field, and then his eyes were back on you, "So, we know you aren’t blind, love, sure you noticed something going on here."

You weren’t sure if he was talking about what you’d dubbed the porn party or if he was just talking about the general bond between the men that went deeper than just elite squad, so you just nodded, hoping he would proceed with some more context clues… any keep rubbing his thumbs around your calf. It was not helping you focus. Kyle just grinned, his hands gently roaming up your shins to your knees and then back down, "Well, we’ve noticed something, too, love. You."

"Me?" You parroted, half sincere half forced faux shock, that sent you further back into Johnny’s chest, the Scot who was still fiddling with your hair had also pressed his nose into the crown of your hair to smell whatever products you used. "Don’t sound so surprised, bonnie." He murmured into your hair before leaning past you to Simon, planting an open-mouthed,

wet kiss against the larger man’s mask right beside your own face. Your mouth dried out despite just finishing your drink, tongue seeming too big for your mouth, eyes flicking rapidly between them and Gaz. You were beyond flustered, your stomach twisting in a both nerve wracking and enticing way. You didn’t know where to look, or if you should look, or look away. You didn’t want to look away, seeing Soap’s tongue find Simon’s mouth even through the cotton. Did they want the illusion of privacy and if so, how were you supposed to give them that when Simon was half groping you at the same time Johnny was lapping at his tongue

through the balaclava? Johnny slid his eyes to you, barely breaking from Ghost, "S’alright, hen, don’t mind you watching us. After all, s’only fair."

Your eyes widened, owlishly turning to Gaz though Simon kept you from slipping off his lap. Was that them telling you that they knew you knew? Was this some confession about finding your doppelgänger and watching enough of her content to pay off her car? He rolled his eyes at the other sergeant, his easy going smile returning when his eyes came back to you.

"They’re so impatient." He chuckled with a what can you do shrug, as if they’d simply skipped to dessert (innuendo intended) instead of started sloppily making out with you in their lap. He quit massaging at your calves, instead using his middle and pointer fingers to trace patterns (you could swear it was a mimic of the lace pattern he’d traced earlier). Your eyes flicked over to Price, who was still just watching, leaned back in his chair, jutting his chin back to Gaz as if telling you to pay attention. Sheepishly, you turned back to Kyle, "So, we’ve… discovered this person online, and she looks… so much like you. Genuinely, love, it’s uncanny. And there’s this video she made that really caught our attention-"

"She knows the one." "Aye, She’s seen it."

Both Price and Johnny answered at the same time. Price, because you’d brought up the issue to him in his office. And Johnny… had apparently been standing outside your car longer than you thought and could see your screen. Your cheeks had to be glowing by now. Kyle’s smile just grew, flashing perfect white teeth at you as he leaned in closer, "Perfect, then we can skip that explanation. But once we saw it… well, it kind of got under our skin. You’ve gotten under our skin, love."

Johnny and Simon hadn’t stopped though they had shifted and suddenly there lips were back and forth on each other, and also over your neck and shoulders as you tried fervently to keep your eyes on Gaz as he leaned closer, pulling the sleeve of your sweater off your shoulder to expose that lace strap again, "And, judging by how you’ve been acting lately, we’ve gotten under yours too."

"Yeah. Yeah. That’s one way to put it." You admitted in a released breath, eyes flicked down to Simon who’d been kissing and sucking right at the curve of your shoulder for several long seconds, like if he wasn’t already under your skin, he’d supplant himself there personally. Johnny wasn’t going under your clothes, but his hands were tracing the line of your spine, finding the waistband of your leggings, nosing into your hair so he could kiss the shell of your ear. All while Kyle just kept that pretty grin on you, somehow putting you at ease and twisting your nerves even more.

"And, truthfully, we could sit here talking about it all night, Or…" And Kyle Garrick, with that unfairly, stupidly charming smile of his, made a veritable orgy sound as commonplace and sensible as going to the pub afterwork, and you found yourself dumbly nodding along to his easy words before you anxieties, logical and/or otherwise, could convince you that group sex with your coworkers was probably not the most professional way to spend a Friday night. But, damn, the sparkle in those pretty hazel-brown eyes was doing a good job of easing any worries that charming smile had missed…

Price finally spoke up again, but stayed in his chair, "You're nodding, sweet, but we gotta hear it. Out loud. Do you want this?"

When you looked over again, John Price was looking wholly the Captain he was. If you thought he was making a point to manspread in his office earlier in the day, now… Now he was just showing off. He looked like he was posing on a throne, legs spread, elbows resting on the arms of the chair as he settled in, watching the three soldiers and you on the couch. Seemingly completely nonplussed by his subordinate employees’ heavy petting on his couch.

Your internal reflection was swift. You were already getting felt up. If going into the office was going to be awkward on Monday, it was going to be awkward regardless of whether or not you cut it off at groping. You might as well let them relieve the nagging itch in the back of your mind while you were at it. So after another dumb nod, you found your voice again, "Yes. Yes. I want it. Please."

"So polite." Johnny murmured, taking you verbal confirmation as permission to slip his hands underneath your clothes, mapping your bare skin, "And you’ll say something if it’s too much?"

"Yeah, yeah." You nodded fervently, turning your head to try and catch one of their lips, the sweater had been stifling for the past hour, but now it was itching at your feverish skin. Johnny just smiled, helping you out of the thing.

"Good girl." Simon nodded before his amber eyes lit up a bit, "Well, would you look at tha’."

His fingers dipped under the lacy band of the bralette you were wearing. Johnny had already run his hands over the fabric while Kyle just whistled lowly. Price was the one who spoke up about it, "Did you put that on just for us, sweet?"

"Just in… just in case." You nodded in a breath, leaning back into Johnny as he started rolling your leggings down, exposing the complimentary lace waistband of your panties. Another round of appreciative comments and touches, Simon’s teeth nipping at the curve of your neck again.

"Too good to us, love." Gaz shook his head, helping his fellow sergeant get your leggings all the way off and tossing them somewhere out of sight, pressing kisses to the top of your thighs, then your knees, and finally one too the inside of your ankle. " So you suspected all along. How’d you see the video?"

"Go on, sweet, fill him in." Price prompted with that stupid little smirk, the one that tugged the corners of his beard up. The one that made you want to get on your knees and do anything to earn one of those approving nods.

"I-I can see the websites y’all visit." You admitted breathlessly, watching as Kyle kissed his way back up your legs, how those eyes never broke contact with yours, "I have to clear them for security purposes. I’ve.. I’ve seen all the videos y’all’ve been sharing with each other." “

All of them. So

that’s why you’ve been so quiet, bonnie?" Johnny hummed, a smile pressed into the base of your neck, watching Simon nip at your neck, teeth digging in harder every time, making you whimper which seemed to only egg Ghost on.

"Flattered or offended?" Kyle asked, but his smile told you he already knew the answer. Because, with you sprawled over the laps of three men, if you were offended you had a funny way of showing it.

"I should’ve been." You gulped after breaking off Johnny’s lips for a moment, adding on, "Offended."

"But you’re not?" Price prompted, head cocking to the side as he fiddled with lighting his cigar.

No. For better or for worse, this roundabout workplace harassment approach had really worked on you. So you just shook your head, opening your mouth as Simon pulled his mask up and caught your lips, tongue domineering itself into your mouth almost instantly.

"So cooperative, nice change of pace." One of them hummed, but you couldn’t place it, too focussed on the fingers kneading at your inner thighs, slowly working your legs open into a spread so your knee’s were hooked over each side of Simon’s wide spread legs, which exposed the dampened gusset of the deliberately chosen panties.

"All right, deal’s a deal, Garrick," Simon all but growled into your mouth, your eyes fluttering open to see his amber eyes watching Kyle who was smirking like he’d just gotten away with something, "You get first taste. Warm ‘er up for us."

Oh. Oh. Just diving right in. Though Gaz was ever the gentleman, charming through and through.

"May I?" He asked softly, waiting with his fingers hooked in the lacy waistband as he sunk to his knees in front of you. Your breath picked up just from the sight, and it was only Simon holding you to him that kept you from leaning down and catching a kiss from Kyle as well. Since that wasn't an option, you jerked your head in a clumsy nod, punctuating with the cant of your hips towards him that just made him chuckle as your panties were discarded towards the same direction as your pants.

"Please." You whined, the tone making all of the men snap their eyes up to you, the expressions all reading make her do it again. You didn’t even have time to adjust to the cold air on your exposed bits before Gaz’s hot mouth was covering the sensitive flesh, drawing a gasp as you threw yourself back into Simon’s chest. Ghost only hooked his chin over your shoulder, lazily watching as Gaz licked a flat stripe, first dipping into your entrance, teasing a bit as deep as he could get. Your clit got a little attention from his nose bumping it, make you breathe sharp breaths with little clipped moans. But when he withdrew and traced his tongue back up, finding your clit and slipping under the hood, your attempts at demure noises were nixed by a sudden and echoing moan.

"That good? Yeah, Gaz’s pretty skilled with ‘is tongue." Johnny nodded, nuzzling at your other shoulder as he watched on too, palming himself through his jeans, "Meticulous thing he is."

"How’s she taste, sergeant?" Price asked, adjusting himself as well. Kyle surfaced for only a moment, replacing his tongue with his fingers when you whined in disappointment.

"Better than the bloody brownies, that’s for certain." He hummed, his corners of his mouth glistening, eyes flicking up to you as he rested a cheek against the inside of your thigh. You tried to be offended at the diss to your baking skills, but as Kyle dove back in, a skillful swirl and lewd slurp killed any smart comment on your tongue, or rather on his. You weren’t sure if it was even possible to actually decipher, but you were certain he was spelling barrack’s bunny over your clit with his tongue, letter by unraveling letter. All four men seemed to delight in how your breathing sped up, how your head seemed so heavy to hold up that it flopped backwards into Simon’s shoulder. Kyle tolerated your hips rolling twice, but his chivalry ended the third time, reaching up and placing Simon’s hand at your waist to hold you still for him, while his hands kept your thighs from closing around his head. The message was clear. Anything you were getting would come from him and only him. You recalled how so many of his preferred videos revolved around control, pleasure dom, a term you had had to google. All you could do was stare down between your legs and watch him devour you.

"If she tastes half as good as she looks…" Johnny trailed off, catching the corner of your mouth for a short kiss, his fingers tracing the lace pattern right over your perked nipples, at least Simon was lenient enough to let you arch your chest into the touch, "Right treat you are, hen."

Your first climax was a quick thing, a full body clench and vulgar moan clawing its way out of your throat, your thighs trembling around Kyle as he licked and slurped his way through your high, collected anything you put out for him. His movements only slowing when your body relaxed back against Ghost. He gave your pussy a comedically sweet kiss before sitting up, and it was only then that he pulled you down to him for your first real kiss from him. It was tender and sweet, with the appropriate amount of tongue, almost the kind of kiss you’d give on a really good first date, if it wasn’t for the fact you could taste your essence on him, your cum making his lips slippery against yours.

"Called dibs on that weeks ago." He grinned, breaking the kiss to watch his fingers to dip between your legs, collect some more of your wetness and pop it in his mouth, eyes closing like he was savoring a fine wine. You watched him with mouth agape and eyes half lidded, "Alright then, Tav, surprised you held yourself back this long, go on then."

Johnny’s smile was all teeth as he descended upon you, kissing any of your slick off your mouth that Kyle’d left behind like he was getting a sneak preview. Though, for someone so often ridiculed for being impatient, he was anal about this kiss. Making sure to try every angle of his mouth against yours, then repeating his tests with tongue, and then once more splitting your attention with Simon. Ghost played along for a while, letting his sergeant explore your lips and your chest before he nodded down to the floor when Kyle’d been.

"Keep yourself busy, Johnny." Was the clipped order, as he took over kissing you, one large hand splayed along your face to keep you drawn to him, as if you might try to get away. He had nothing to worry about, the whiplash of switching partners and desires had you craving attention anywhere you could find it. You were already putty on his lap with Johnny taking over Kyle’s place between you legs. While it was still overwhelmingly pleasurable, his actions were more sloppy than Kyle’s. His strategy was to barrage your nerves as opposed to Kyle’s precision attacks. It still had you whining and squirming, which was enough to short circuit your focus. Johnny didn’t seem to mind you instinctively grinding into his face, in fact it only seemed to encourage him. Simon’s job was to keep you from melting off his lap, which he did while his kisses became harder and harder, sometimes biting at your bottom lip, "Now you just taste like his shitty beer, you’ll lemme fix that, won’t you, lovie?"

When you nodded, he smiled, tugging the balaclava all the way off. You didn’t even have time to properly admire how handsome he was under the thing, didn’t have time to pepper those scars with kisses or wax poetic about how all his unconventional features played together harmoniously to make him exceedingly handsome. Before you could do any of that, he’d taken a sip of his bourbon, swallowing as he watched you watch him.

"Open." He directed, nodding when you obediently dropped your mouth open. He tipped your head back at the same time as he took a longer draw of his bourbon, holding it in his mouth for a moment before pulling your lips up to his and kissing the liquor straight onto your tongue, burning off anything and anyone else. When he’d given you every last drop, he pulled back and manually shut your mouth, "Go on and swallow for me, don’t waste it. ’s hard to get this stuff ‘round here."

Bourbon wasn’t often in your rotation for drinks, the taste smoky and sharp just like the man that had kissed it into your mouth, but one look into Simon’s eyes had you nodding again. As you forced yourself to swallow it, the burn going all the way into stomach, stoking the fires the men had started in you. After he watched your throat bob, he nodded approvingly.

"Good fuckin’ girl." He praised which made the burning sting worth it, catching your lips in another punishing kiss when you moaned from Johnny’s sloppy slurping. Simon hummed, finding that your mouth now tasted like his preferred pour, "Much better."

After kissing the taste of his bourbon off you, he pulled back for a moment just to watch you whine and grind against the sergeant between both sets of your legs. After a moment of appreciation for the garment against your skin, the bralette they’d all liked so much was roughly yanked down, the straps down your shoulders while the cups and band bunched up under your now exposed breasts. Johnny was watching from the floor, his big blue eyes crinkling and lips pulling into a smile against you, while Simon ran his hands over your bare chest, stopping to squeeze and pinch when he pleased. “Johnny-

Ghost-" You almost shrieked not sure who to call too or thank for the electric static in your nervous system, arching your chest up into his hands, and when the movement moved your hips away from Johnny, he just took your legs off Simon’s knees and hooked them over his shoulders, keeping you firmly in place, "

Shit."

"Language, sweet." Price teasingly scolded from his chair, still stroking his beard from his arm chair. Gaz and Simon just chuckled when you pouted through another throaty moan. Simon was nudging your cheek with his nose, skimming his teeth across you jawline between kisses that trailed fown your neck, sucking marks that would stay for weeks, always finding his way back to what seemed to be his favorite spot in the curve of your neck. “Should’ve seen the Sergeants when they first found that video, acting like they’d won the fuckin' lottery. Been wanting you for months but tha’ really sealed the deal, lovie, couldn’t even get through the first quarter before this one was panting and rutting. Like it was the first time they’d ever seen a dirty video. Ain’t that right, Johny?” It was the most you’d ever heard Simon talk in one go, every couple of words grunted and groaned out between kisses across any skin he could reach with you sitting back against him, breath hotly fanning along your neck as he went. And when he finished the thought, he reached down between your legs and fished the sergeant up by his mohawk, leaving both you and Johnny whine at the loss of contact. Simon just laughed coldly and gave Johnny a prompting jerk, much rougher than he’d been touching you, “You gonna answer us, Johnny?” “Aye. Aye. Knew I had to get ma’ hands on ye.” Was all he managed before diving in for another taste of you, surfacing briefly again to relay a message up to Simon, half moaned half growled,

"This cunt's like fucking silk, I’ll tell you, Lt.” Strong hands clenching into the plushest parts your thighs holding them around his face like he was

hoping he’d suffocate down there, "Ye gotta get in here, ain’t nothing like it."

"You want that, sweetheart?" Simon hummed, moving from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, "Want me in you?"

"Fuck. Yes, fuck me." You rambled which just made them chuckle at you as one of your hands when into Johnny’s mohawk and the other palmed at your breasts. Johnny moaned when you tugged at his hair, sending subtle vibrations up with his tongue that almost sent you undone again. Simon easily pushed you down his legs, still supporting you with one hand as Johnny kept going, and freeing his erection with the other. Gaz and Johnny had worked hard to warm you up, to break you in for them, but Simon’s dick threatened to break you, period. He was just as thick as John, but almost as long as Kyle, cut, veiny, with a pretty pink tip. Como se dice, how you say… hung like a fucking horse.

He must’ve seen your wide eyes, the subtle fear in your eyes that was chased away when Johnny drug his teeth over your clit with just enough pressure to make you choke on your own spit. Ghost reached down intermingling his fingers with your folds and Johnny’s tongue, "We’ll start easy. Just the tip, lovie. Johnny’ll handle the rest for now."

They did just that. He held his hand out to Johnny, letting the man on his knees spit into his palm and then rubbed it against his dick, before pulling you back against him once more. Before he even attempted any sort of penetration, he slid his erection through your folds a couple of times just to collect some more slick, "You are just like silk, Johnny was right."

He grunted into your neck with another few slippery passes before reaching down as easing the tip into you. He was thick, enough so that it stung a bit as you tried to adjust. Despite his soft voice and unusually soft eyes, Simon’s control slipped, rutting a bit before you were ready. At you uncomfortable whine, Johnny mirrored the sound in disapproval of your upset, immediately going to remedy the hurt with his tongue, servicing both you and Simon with a flat lick up Simon’s exposed length and then up to your clit to help you relax.

"Breathe for me, lovie." The Liutenant ordered, like he was trying to be gentle with you but his jaw was gritted, trying even harder not to snap his hips against yours and bully his too-big dick into your hole, "Try to relax for me."

You were panting, cheeks puffing with your breaths, not sure if Johnny’s tongue was helping or just tensing you up more, but God, it felt good and you weren’t going to be the one to tell him to stop. Not yet at least. You got another inch in, which earned a kiss to your neck.

" s’all I can take right now." You breathed, reaching back to support yourself against him.

"Better than I did on my first go, eh, LT?" Johnny grinned up before kissing up the length of Simon’s cock that wasn't inside of you, flicking his tongue over the stretched rim of your entrance that was still trying to clench around the sudden intrusion, "She’s tryin’ so hard."

By the look in his eyes, he wasn’t talking about you. The She in question was just your pussy. Simon nodded along, hissing curses into your hair.

"Alright, lovie, alright, no more for now." He gritted out, " ‘m gonna move now, just try and stay loose as you can for me."

Humming in agreement, you tried to let yourself be pliant against him, feeling his hips rock, the in and out of his movements pleasurable enough to draw out a keening moan despite the less than comfortable stretch. His lips were at your neck again as he continued his thrusts, slightly steadier, growing more confident. And then it was his teeth, nipping between sucks, though his words were still growled, "That’s it, doing so good for me, for us."

Your mistake was losing yourself in the feeling, letting your hips rock because it shattered what little control Ghost had at the moment. He sunk in another few inches, teetering between painful and pleasurable, making you cry out, nails digging into his forearms as a tear slipped down your cheek. The dig of your nails only urged him on, the nip of your teeth turning into a full bite, enough to break skin just slightly. However, the moment your cry was one of actual discomfort instead of pleasure, he withdrew completely, kissing over where he’d bitten, "Sorry, sorry, lovie, got too rough, too quick with you."

He slowly eased you off of him, nudging Johnny off as well, still kissing at the spot he’d bitten too harshly, fingers kneading comfort into your hips and then your thigh, "Y'alright? Need to stop?"

You took a breath, let the initial shock of the stretch and the bite fade away, let him swipe the rogue tear off your cheek, let your body readjust…. and then shook your head, signalling you wanted to keep going, pulling him by the back of the neck down to you again for a kiss. Johnny was still at your knees, massaging your thighs, watching Simon deepen the kiss as much as you’d let him, and then pushing a little further, his fingers flexing hard into you again making you wince just a little. Honestly, you could’ve endured that, hell with another couple of kisses, you could’ve enjoyed it. But this time, he cut himself off, pulling back with a slew of curses that’d send a sailor to confession.

"Fuck, ‘m sorry, sweetheart, I’ve never been good at taking it slow." Simon growled, jaw still clenched so hard you were afraid he’d crack a tooth., thumbs easing the irritated skin he’d clenched just slightly too hard, "You’re just too perfect, can’t keep my head on straight."

Ghost stopped to think for a moment, breathing hot and heaving against you skin, before flicking his eyes down to Soap who’d stopped massaging your thighs in favor of featherlight kisses where his stubble had chafed you. You’d seen this before, the internet called it cuteness aggression.

"Price." He called, nodding to his Captain, a signal to take over. John nodded, and after meeting your still lust glazed expression, ascertaining you were alright, seemed rather amused by the tag-in. It seemed, despite the civilian clothes and whatever intimacy was shared amongst the group, rank hierarchy was still firmly present, because when Captain Price finally rose from his arm chair, the sergeants and Lieutenant wordlessly moved out of his way, presenting you along the way for him as his belt buckle jingled being loosened and discarded.

Still, despite his evident imposition, his strength was gentle as he peeled you off his lieutenant who stood, manhandling Johnny off with him to the chair. Half dazed and panting, you were grateful for his patience as he asked with only a little teasing, "Can you stand for me, Sweet, just a little?"

And when your legs were still jelly and trembling, he just chuckled, leaking cigar smoke into your mussed hair, "That’s alright, Sweet, you just let me lay you out all pretty."

With that, you were bent over the arm of your boss’s sofa, callous hands traced slowly down your spine and then paused at your hips, massaging your flanks much as he had his cuts of steak. Price massaged his way from your hips, over and around your ass, and then worked from outwards to the inner most part of your thighs. Finally, he dragged a flat palm up your exposed sex, and when you looked over your shoulder, he was licking his tongue across that same hand, a deep rumbling growl shaking you to your core as you watched him taste not only you, but also notes of his boys, "Sweeter than fuckin’ sugar, love. Fuckin’ perfect."

You just stared at him with wide eyes, limply spread over the arm rest, hips instinctively pressing back into him to find more touch, more friction, more him. Words failed, only high pitched whines made it out. Which made Johnny, off to the side, chuckle.

"Think this is the longest I’ve ever seen her quiet." The scot chided, watching with great interest as Price took another swipe through your folds, coating his cock in whatever (whoever’s) bodily fluids he collected there.

"Maybe you should take some notes, mutt." Simon gruffed, taking a fistful of the sergeant’s Mohawk and tugging it rather harshly backwards, exposing Johnny’s throat that his teeth descended upon almost immediately. Some time between being between our legs and being in Simon’s lap, Johnny’s shirt had disappeared, his jeans still on but unbuckled and Simon was fishing his erection out.

"Ignore ‘em." Price chuckled down to you, physically redirecting your attention by giving your clit a bit of attention as he eased himself slowly in, all the way to his base, "Y’feel even better than you taste, sweet thing, y’know that?"

You didn’t know that, but you’d take the compliment, if you remembered it, or your own name by the end of… whatever this was. He gave one slow and steady thrust, almost like an experiment, one hand holding your hips in place, the other holding his cigar up to his lips.

"Dessert before dinner, how about that, lads?"

There was a moment of recall to his earlier words, "Already had something else in mind for dessert" echoed with what he just said in your fuzzy mind. You had been dessert all along, and judging by the ravenous eyes with varying degrees of satiation, the 141 intended to eat their fill, your online look-a-like was simply a taste test. A momentary taste of vindication on your tongue- you hadn’t been reading too far into things or fluffing your own ego, this was premeditated, and your matching set wasn’t presumptuous. Still, that only lasted a singular breath, the smug vindication was phsycially forced out of you with a rough snap of his hips, the first of many from the demanding, almost brutal, pace John set for himself.

"There’s a girl, you just take it for me," He grunted between thrusts, seemingly pleased with your little cries and moans, "Just like that, sweet, you’ll be taking Simon’s cock in no time."

John Price’s couch was not picked out with ‘being bent over the side’ in mind. Or perhaps, you were just a bit softer than the other’s that had had the pleasure of being bent over the arm like John had you at that moment. Taking mercy upon your ribs, or perhaps just for his own selfish purposes, Kyle slotted himself underneath your front and sat you up against his chest, throwing your arms over his shoulders. While John still had your hips over the couch arm, Gaz had pulled you chest up to his, his lips finding your lips, your cheek, jaw, and breasts as he went.

"Poor sweet thing" Kyle cooed, his perfect pearly teeth nipping at your ear while is chest steadied you against Price’s onslaught that pushed a thought our of your mind with each quick, but deep, thrust, "Didn’t know what you were walking into, did you? And now look at what a mess we made you?"

You couldn’t tell if Kyle was mocking you or praising you, kind words and little digs were both dipped in that sugary sweet tone that just made you nod up at him with wide eyes and a pouted lip. One of this thumbs reached up and swiped a mascara laden tear out from under your eye, the same thumb dipping into your mouth and holding it open in the pornographic O-shape after Price drew a vulgar moan out with a particularly deep thrust that also managed to scoot the sofa a couple of inches. Gaz didn’t even waver, just laughed a bit as he held you steady, "Mean, innit he?"

Another moan blocked the chance at a snappy reply, not that you had the current brain power to make one. The sergeant just took the chance to swallow your noises with his mouth over yours, kissing you and biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. With what little fortitude you had, you grabbed the collar of that soft sweater and hauled him right back up to your mouth. It was aggressive kissing. Tongue and teeth and nails, sloppy and dirty, your noses bumping together from the force of Price’s thrusting.

When Price adjusted your hips, it forced you onto your tip toes to maintain the angle. And while the new angle provided incentive and reward in the way of relentless pounding of that delicious spongy spot inside you, that fact only made it harder for your already shaking legs to support you.

"Hold her fast, Sergeant." Was the grunted order as he gave your ass a smack, like he was punishing you for the indiscretion of already having you legs fucked out from under your from the other men in his living room. Honestly, How dare you? Kyle took orders beautifully. The best multitasker on the squad, as he not only, held you at that perfect angle for his Captain, but also, trailed wet, hot kisses down to your chest, locking onto one of your nipples with devious precision, only sucking harder when you cried out.

" ‘m gonna cum-!" It was strangled and whined into Kyle’s shoulder still fisting the collar of his shirt while your other hand posed serious risk of shredding the upholstery.

"You gonna cum on me, sweet? Go ahead, but I’m not stopping." Price chuckled through his warning, leaning over your head and pulling Gaz in by the back of his neck for a sloppy kiss of his own.

"Go on then. Give it to him." Kule urged in that sickly sweet tone, "The captain’s working so hard back there for you, least you could do is let ‘im feel how pretty you fall apart."

Another moan, a garbled cry of both of their names mashed together when they pushed you over the edge in tandem with a well timed deep thrust and light smack to your clit from Price at the same time that Gaz tweaked both of your nipples..

"You feel that Cap? That flutter?" Gaz called, talking (literally) over your head as you sagged, twitching against him, unlatching from the hickey he was sucking into your collarbone, "That’s fuckin’ magic, that is."

"Flutter? She’s wringing me dry in there." Price groaned, his pace only slowed by the vice like grip your core had as your eyes rolled back, "Sweet’s cunt’s practically swallowing me, bloody hell, greedy thing, aren’t you?"

The only reprieve you had was Price leaning forward so his warm chest pressed to your back, his big hands circling your clit like it might encourage you loosen back up for him so he could resume his movements, "C’mon, love, you gonna answer me?"

"Yes…" You drawled, flopping your head over so you could meet his eyes over your shoulder, that signature mirthful smile twitching the corners of his beard of as he tweaked the little bundle of nerves to correct you. With a little cry, you answered once more, "Yes, sir."

"Atta girl." Price nodded approvingly as he took a long draw of his cigar his pinkie shaking off little bits of ash onto your raised posterior (which should’ve made you feel degraded, or maybe it did which is why it made your eyes flutter again), both at the answer and at the relaxing of your muscles allowing him to build his pace back up.

"Hear that, love?" Kyle’s attention returned down to you when your face dropped back down into the curve of his shoulder, "what a good pussy, taking us all so well, and she just keeps wanting more."

"More?" You croaked out through another moan, panting and trying to count the stars dotting your vision, not sure if you were requesting or parroting in disbelief. Though with a clearer mind, you wouldn’t have been so shocked. Price had barely stuttered in getting his rhythm back up to it’s pace, riding you all the way through your orgasm.

"Told you, ‘m not fucking stopping." Price growled with another smack to the round of your ass. Something between a moan and a cry crawled out of your throat, but tapping our hadn’t once occurred to you.

"You can take it, love, bet you can even give us another big finish, yeah?" Kyle encouraged. It occurred to you the Gaz had now coaxed you through two orgasms, and really hadn’t even asked for anything in return from you. And while you were sure, between the four of you, someone would throw him a bone(r), you decided to take that cross upon yourself, reaching down between him and yourself and wrapping around his dick. From what you could tell, he was on the leaner side, but he was the longest in the group, slightly curved. Which gave you plenty of room to rub and squeeze, from base to his tip where you thumbed the slit, spreading the precum back down as you followed the vein on the underside. Kyle tried to chuckle through a moan, "Bloody hell, love."

Jerking off took on a new meaning as your movements, meant to be languid and smooth, turned jerky and choppy with the force of Price’s increasing speed, his rythym stuttering as he chased his own release. Kyle leaned down using one of his free hands to roll a nipple in his fingers, catching the other in his mouth as you continued to pump him. Between the two of them, it didn’t take long to come close to the edge once more, and you didn’t even have time to be proud of bring both of them over with you in tandem as your third orgasm tore through you, leaving all three of you dazed and breathless. You were vaguely aware of Gaz’s cum on you chest, kind of feeling the warm, sticky trail it left as it leaked down your front while John gave a few more lazy strokes as he softened inside of you. Though Gaz twitched hard again just watching your eyes roll back, and when Price was finally done, he gave your thighs a gentle, almost proud squeeze, watching his spend leak out for a moment before gently collecting you upright once more. With a sweet forehead kiss that contrasted so heavily from the cigar ashes and ass slaps, he gave your cheek a little pat, "Still with me, sweet?"

"Mmmhm." You nodded, eyes only half opned as Gaz sat up behind you and sucked kisses across the back of your shoulders. You’d be wearing turtle necks for weeks. John’s attention shifted over to Simon, who you now realized had been watching the show with the darkest eyes you’d ever seen with poor Johnny taking the brunt of whatever storm Ghost had brewing. Your eyes fluttered watching the liutenant’s hand tighten around Johnny’s throat. Despite the tears on the Scot’s face, he didn’t appear to be too upset with his current predicament, in fact giving you a groan through a watery smile as Simon’s other hand tightened even more around Johnny’s leaking dick.

"Got it all out of your system, Lieutenant?" Price asked with a raised brow, both him and Gaz still keeping you upright with gently roaming hands. Simon gave both his hands another squeeze making Johnny pant.

"I’m solid." He nodded, surprisingly tender as he released Johnny, the sergeant stumbling off his lap. Simon rose behind him, both men approaching the couch. You weren’t positive what ‘it’ was or why it needed to be out of Simon’s system, but Gaz nodded and pressed one last sweet kiss to the curve of you shoulder before letting Simon slide into his place. The largest of the men simply laid down on the couch, taking up most of the three-seater, efficently pulling you backwards so you straddled his lap facing away from him.

"Nice and slow for me, lovie." Simon directed, lining himself up with your entrance after bumping your clit with his tip. Thank god for his strong hands guiding your hips down at the pace he set. Though Price had thoroughly broken you in, and you’d already partially taken Simon once, you still tensed up nervously but set your jaw with determination to do it again and get all of it from this new angle. With your back to his face, you had a front row set to the others watching hungrily. Kyle was leaning back against Price’s chest, the older man reaching around to palm the sergeant’s erection as Gaz pressed his back to Price’s front, grinding backwards. But Johnny, poor Johnny, with his cock almost purpled by Simon’s earlier teasing, rocking on his heels like he was just waiting for permission to join in, sapphire eyes bouncing between Simon’s face, your face, and the stretch of you pussy around Simon’s cock- like he couldn’t decide who was most jealous of.

Inch after deliciously painful inch, Simon helped you ease yourself down until your ass was flush with his hips. From this angle, though Simon could still rut up against you, the pace was all your decision, making it harder for him to lose control again. With your hands braced against his tree-trunk thighs. Simon gave you a minute to adjust, to pant and try to focus your eyes. The soldier underneath you grunted, fingers flexing on your waist as he adjusted himself making you whimper and almost fall forward.

"Si-" Johnny whined, his hands twitching forward like he wanted to help you, or maybe just touch you, his cock leaking down his leg. Simon’s voice was not as gentle to his sergeant, a gruff order.

"No’ yet." Before returning his attention to you, voice softening slightly, "Take your time, sweetheart, move when you want, I want you to feel good."

Giving a jerky nod, you gave an experimental wiggle that nestled him somehow even deeper. Your moan was lodged in your throat as your eyes shut, but the movement earned a deep groan and hiss from Simon. With a deep breath, you managed to move past the acclimation stage so the actual pleasure started building again, which felt like crossing the finish line of a marathon. Next, a roll of your hips that genuinely blurred out your vision, feeling so good that our body instinctively did it again to chase the feeling. And then again, and again- head falling forward and then rolling back.

"That’s it, lovie, find your rhythm." Simon tried to prain but it sounded more like a growl as his hands flexed again into the softest parts of your waist, his long fingers spanning so far that they kneaded into the plushness of your stomach, "Fuckin' hell."

"Si-" Johnny whined again, drawing the clipped nickname into two syllables, this time his twitching fingers finding purchase in the arm of the sofa you’d been bent over earlier. If you weren’t so focused on Simon’s cock rearranging your internal organs, you might’ve heard the ominous creak of the fabric under his strength. When your eyes fluttered open, they locked onto Johnny’s bright blues, darkened to a stormy hue with impatient want. His Scottish brogue thickening deeply, "Ah keened you’d be better than the lass in the fuckin’ videos, so fuckin’ sweet and pretty-"

"Alright." Simon gruffed before his voice softened down again, "Go on, sweetheart, show the mutt some love, won’t you? He won’t shut up until you do."

Even though the permission had been given to you, Johnny was immediately upon you. Much like Gaz, Johnny took up the job of supporting your upper body as Simon had your hips firmly in his grasp. With one knee pressed into the couch cushion, he hugged your chest to his, his hands groping and feel any part of you he could get his hands on like it was the first time he’d touched you or any other soft and pretty thing. Unlike Gaz, his mouth on your started out aggressive and when you would moan, he’d mirror the noises, groaning them right back onto your tongue.

"And soft. Ye sound better too." Johnny groaned when Simon suddenly rutted against your rocking, leaving you crying out and digging your nails into Johnny’s shoulders. With strong but surprisingly gentle grip, your fingers were removed from his shoulders. Johnny led one of your hands in an exploratory trail down his chest, following the path of thick, dark body hair, past his abs, until he wrapped your hand around his cock which twitched even at your slightest touch.

"So fucking soft, bonnie," he breathed, coaxing your hand into movement while kissing your other palm, before looking over to Simon, "Not a callous on her hands, Lt, dinnae even think about that."

Simon merely grunted in acknowledgement of Johnny’s discovery, seeing as his focus was an entirely different part of your anatomy. The larger man seemed content letting his sergeant be the vocal one, sometimes rewarding you with a hiss or a strangled groan. He’d given up on letting you control the pace now that you were acclimated and half bouncing against him, rutting and grinding against you in time with your own rolling and rocking as you sped up. It was only natural for your hand on Johnny’s cock to speed up as well.

"Sweetheart, why don’t you show him something even softer than your hands? He went through a lot for you, after all." He didn’t give you time to ask what that was supposed to mean, but you figured it had something to do the vicious series of bites and hickies on the man’s neck. You could tell Simon was moving because his cock was shifting angle inside of you, making you gasp. One of his large hands splayed against the small of your back, pressing you firmly forward and down. A sudden thrust as he applied pressure to your back made you go boneless, letting the men push your cheek first into Johnny’s stomach and then down to where your hand was still pumping Johnny’s cock.

"Look at that, a multitasker. ’s why she’s such a good analyst for us." Gaz chided from the sidelines like he was commentating on a sports match, watching as you were stroking Johnny, holding your cheek against him while trying to catch your breath from Simon’s thrusts. Johnny helped guide himself into your mouth. It wasn’t so much length as the girth, even thicker than Price, that stretched your jaw uncomfortably. But the way that Johnny moaned sinfully above you when your nose pressed into the dark curls at his base, the way he all but melted over you like butter, encouraged to breathe through your nose and keep going.

"Steaming Jesus, Si, I cannae last like this-" Johnny moaned, seemingly not even noticing how loud he was. Simon only laughed lowly, reaching around your thighs to dip between them, circling your clit. Your thighs were trembling, moans getting louder and less restrained, nothing about this was restrained anymore.

"That’s alright, Johnny, neither will she, will you, lovie?" He asked with another deep thrust, "feel ‘ow she’s shaking?"

You were shaking your head still with a mouthful of Johnny’s cock, because you weren’t going to last much longer, eyes rolling and fluttering, landing on the arm chair again where Gaz being treated as well, both him and John watching appreciatevly as Ghost and Soap had you in lopsided Eiffel tower. You were pulling out any trick for Johnny that you managed to remember between Simon’s thrusts, swirling tongue and bobbing heads. But what did him in was actually Simon’s doing. When Simon rolled his hips into you just right, hitting every good spot and giving your clit a swipe, your eyes crossed and you moaned, practically screaming around Johnny’s member, the vibrations and look on your face enough to finish him. His hand tightened in your hair, hips snapping, pushing your nose into his pelvis, and holding you there as he came with what some might call a battle cry. After everything Simon had put him through earlier, he was pent up, leaving him cumming. and cumming, and cumming, until you had to swat at his thigh because you couldn’t take anymore.

You swallowed what you could, taking a couple more spurts to your face and chest before Johnny crumbled onto the couch against you, kissing the taste of himself right off your tongue as Simon continued his thrusts, getting incrementally faster and harder as you proved you could handle it. The scot took over the praising and encouragement as his superior fell back into the quiet grunting and groaning against you, though you could barely make out any of the words as you approached your fourth finish. For the first time in your life you understood the phrase "fucked stupid". You were somewhat sure you were rambling gibberish accolades to the men, cries of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ’thank you’ intermingled with moans and curses that put your over the top XXX twin’s to shame.

"C’mon, sweetheart, one more f’ me." Simon growled out, switching positions so quickly and effeciently that you didn’t even realize it until you body was pressed face down into the couch cushion, Simon still behind you, drilling into you with a pace that put mechanized machinery to shame. You weren’t even sure how you were taking it just that you were and if he stopped you might start crying, "I know you’re close, just lemme have it-"

Johnny was back on his knees in front of the couch, catching your nipple in his mouth. And you turned your head towards John and Kyle, locked in their own encounter, and then it just snapped. Your orgasm not just washing over you, but a tidal wave crashing over you and frying every nerve a long the way. For a moment your vision whited out, the only thing you were aware of was Simon’s strokes slowing and working you through it. With your body practically vibrating with overstimulation, you let your unseeing eyes roam to to the cieling fan and let your mind wander as you floated somewhere above reality for a bit, enjoying the electric feelings between each neuron firing. Every noise and sight becoming background information as overstimulation fuzzed it all out except the aftershocks and twinges in your core.

You weren’t sure how long it was before you came back to yourself, but you heard Johnny’s voice first, "C’mon, bonnie, float back down to us."

"There she is." Kyle cooed in tandem with the other sergeant while your cheek, "Lost you for a bit there. Alright?"

You were more than alright, body more sated than it’d been in years, still thrumming and twitching with the aftershocks, so you just nodded slowly, trying to focus your eyes in on one thing at a time, voice slightly slurred with nothing to do with the drinks, " ‘m alright."

"Was worried I broke you." That was Simon, who’s lap your head was in. You only offered a dopey smile and a lazily blink.

"You might’ve, but I’m ok, more than ok." You sighed with a dry laugh, turning your head so your cheek pressed to his thigh, though you noticed he’d slipped his sweats back on.

"Si’s gotta work on being gentle, we don’t make him practice enough." Johnny teased, running soothing hands along your sides. Suddenly, a cup of water with a straw was placed in front of your face, and when you looked up it was Price holding it down to you before Kyle took it and held it steady for you.

"Never see you complaining about it, McTavish." John teased right back, trading off the cup so he could smooth hair off your sweaty forehead, "Take as long as you need, sweet, y’did good for us. So good."

His praise nestled deeply, right between your ribs, making you smile softly as Kyle coaxed the straw into your mouth, letting you sip on the water as he ran a caring thumb over the apple of your cheek.

—

You must’ve dozed off, because when you woke up, you were still on the couch, but everyone else had moved around you liked you simply always been nestled amongst them. The thought made your lips curl in a dopey grin as you looked around them. Half upright and wrapped in someone’s hoodie, you were laying against Price’s chest, head tipped back into his shoulder as he worked around a plate filled for two, the atmosphere was cozy now, the electric frantic tension from earlier had morphed into something warm and intimate.

“Evening. Hungry?” His chest rumbled as he held the plate closer to your field of view. Two very juicy ribeyes, baked potatoes, green vegetable- the stereotypical macho man plate. John seemed all too proud of himself when you opened your mouth to accept a fork of perfectly cut bite-size steak, laughing when you hummed in approval, “There we go, sweet, worked up an appetite, yeah?”

“Really? Thought we already stuffed ‘er pretty good.” Kyle teased, still gently swiping warm rags over your body, wiping away any evidence that wasn’t etched or sucked semipermanently into your skin, occasionally following his ministrations with gentle kisses and soft praises, “Feel ok, love? Need anything?”

When you shook your head, gently squeezing his wrist in gratitude, he only smiled, giving you a tender kiss to the forehead before retrieving his own plate and sitting on the opposite side of Price, claiming the captain’s other shoulder for his own head.

Johnny was in the same boat as you, though whatever the hell Simon had done to him made his attention to you look like princess treatment, having obviously reigned himself in with you. Was that what Ghost was getting out of his system before coming back to you? Still, the scot didn’t seem to have many complaints after Simon sat him down between your legs on the couch, letting the sergeant lay facedown against the softest part of your stomach, where he’d nuzzled the hoodie out of the way so he could rest against your bare skin. It was then you noticed that you and Johnny were the only ones still in a state of undress which if your mind wasn’t moving at a snail’s pace, you might’ve tried to read into.

Like you, he seemed half asleep and fucked out, a couple more bites around his neck that hadn’t been there the last time he’d been touching you. Soap’s mohawk gave you something to gently fidget with as Price nudged another bite against your lips. Simon took his seat on the floor, leaned back against the base of the couch with his head tipped back against the curve of your hip. One of his arms wrapped around the leg that Johnny had dangling off the couch, massaging gentle circles into the mans calf muscle. His other other arm was propped on his knee so he could catch your wrist where it flopped down on his shoulder. He was tender as he ran his ungloved hand over yours, massaging your fingers and comparing them to his much larger hands, murmuring himself, “No callouses.”

“Told you, Si.” Johnny sighed almost dreamily into your bare stomach, leaning into your fingers in his hair. With the rest of the men doting on you and Johnny, Simon didn’t even retaliate or tease something back, just snickering quietly and fondly, offering straw topped water bottle to the sergeant.

Another bite of food was offered to you, along with water, and something struck you funny, drawing a quiet chuckle out of you as you turned your face into Price’s neck to stifle the noise. It drew the group’s eyes, clearly waiting for you to divulge. “C’mon, hen, share with the class.” Johnny prompted with grin, always down for a laugh, propping his chin up on your belly so he could look at you through the valley of your cleavage, eyes shining like you’d hung the moon.

“What’s on that pretty mind of yours?” Price rose his eyebrows, cutting another bite of meat for you.

“Nothing, it’s dumb.” You snicker a little more, earning a expectant but amiable tug to your fingers from Simon, “It’s just all a little backwards, s’all.”

“Backwards?” The liutenant parroted in that deep Manc accent, making you giggle a bit more, nodding against Price.

“I let y’all fuck me every which way from Tuesday, and you didn’t even buy me dinner first.” You mused, ironically before taking another bite of one of the best steaks you’d ever had, which could be an effect of the post-sex endorphin rush, or maybe John was just a grill master. “Our apologies, sweet thing.” John rolled his eyes playfully, his apology deeply sarcastic as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“In our defense, dinner and a very nice bottle of wine were on the agenda before, but some people,” Gaz’s eyes flicked over to Johnny and Simon who didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Simon was stone faced as usual, still playing with and kissing at your fingers while Johnny just smiled into your belly, “got impatient.”

“Hey, the first time Simon fucked me all I got was the drink mix and wet nap from his MRE.” Johnny whined which only made you laugh harder.

“Y’didn’t ask for anything else.” Simon shrugged tilting his head to press an uncharacteristically romantic kiss to the curve of the Scot’s knee. “ ’sides, I got your mouth on her didn’t I? think I made up for it.” And before you could question if Simon was really the one to orchestrate all of this, Price quieted you with a bite of potato while Gaz leaned over to distract you with his lips on your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, love.”

And for the first time since you’d seen their search histories, you weren’t worried about much of anything other than when this might happen again.

____

me, who doesn’t ever really write smut: yes i will enjoy writing a fivesome with at least ten hands, five mouths, ten arms, and four penises to keep up with.

Y’all should see the notesapp where I had to like draw out stick figures to see if what I was writing was anatomically possible. I feel like this has gotten me on some kind of watchlist.

Taglist in Comments because there were too many of y'all!! Thanks to anyone who has commented, liked, and reblogged! Whenever I'm feeling uninspired, I just scroll through y'alls comments and they make me smile so so much!!!

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ethereal-inquisitor · 6 months ago

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I love them, your honor.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ to carry a dragon’s love ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

— ft. neuvillette, zhongli

synopsis — you’re their precious little mate, and how much more perfect you’ll be when you’re carrying their seed; 1.5k words.

— minors do not interact! unprotected sex. breeding. mating. marking. they have draconic anatomy. double penetration. fem!reader.

— neuvillette 𝜗𝜚

sharp teeth sink into your shoulder and you mewl into the plush pillow. the ache of them in your flesh paired with the way his cocks lodge deep inside of you has you lost somewhere between pleasure and pain. you’re gripping the sheets until you’re knuckles turn white. you’re drooling and your hair is wild around your head; you’re an absolute wreck under him now.

neuvillette’s hips crash against your ass in a loud smack, your slickness adding a lewd wet sound to the action that makes your cheeks burn hot. you hear him grunt from behind you. “you will be the end of me, my love.”

he’s not fairing much better than you, in truth. his breathing is labored and his thrusts are erratic. he’s not the normal neuvillette you’re so used to seeing; no, he’s much more carnal now, so much more like the dragon that he is. he’s fueled by his most primal of instincts, the tight wrap of you around him urging him to take you, utterly and completely.

“neuvillette,” you cry his name in that saccharine melody he adores so much, the one that melts his heart and makes his cocks twitch against the confines of your walls.

“when you say my name like that, my love, i simply cannot help myself.” and the next thrust into you is brutal and bruising and so deep your breath is knocked from your lungs. he’s fucking you with a purpose, fucking into you so right that you’re sobbing into the pillow.

you know what he’s wanting, what he’s after, and you’re almost unraveling at the mere thought of it.

he’s all too aware of the squeeze of your walls and he groans, muffling the sound with another bite to your shoulder. it’s already marked, and he just can’t help but revel in the fact that’ll be days before it leaves your pretty skin. “you are close, yes?”

you attempt a nod and a small, broken moan that resembles the word yes.

“how perfect you are for me, my love.” neuvillette is flush against you, pressing you deeper into the mattress while his hips maintain a ruthless rhythm, urging you closer and closer to your climax. “do you still want it? please, tell me you do. tell me you still want me to mate you, breed you.”

his voice is deep and gravelly yet tender, and his words are so lewd that you whine underneath him. you know his dragon nature has taken over, you know it’d be practically impossible for him to not breed you now, to sink his seed so deep into your womb with a promise to gift you a child, an offspring. but above all he always wants your approval, and you’re so thankful for that.

“yes,” you hiccup, back arching and ass attempting to meet his hips with little thrusts of your own. a way to show him how eager and willing you are. “i want it. please neuvillette!”

the sovereign above you grins with elation, his hands gripping your waist as he increases his thrusts to a bruising pace; but even with the wild way he takes you, you still feel love in every kiss of his cocks against the deepest parts of you, every squeeze of his palms against your skin.

“you will be my lovely mate, so beautiful pregnant with our young.” he’s close, achingly so. he’s driving into you deep and hitting the sweetest of spots until you’re shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.

you cum with a cry of his name and tight squeezes around his cock. it’s maddening, the pleasure he gives you, and it’s heightened by the promise of his seed, of what it means to be taken so wholly by your mate.

neuvillette is close behind you, reaching his own completion with a guttural groan that echoes against the bedroom walls. he empties himself within you, stilling his hips to plug your holes so that not a single drop goes to waste. you’ve never felt so full in your life.

in your post orgasm state, you barely register the way he kisses all the marks he left behind, soothing the aftermath of his desire. “you did well, my love.”

you breathe as his hands caress your frame. “i love you.”

and oh, how he loves you, his most beautiful mate. his one and only.

— zhongli 𝜗𝜚

“relax, dearest. you are doing so well for me.”

the soft baritone of your lover’s voice fills the space between you and you feel your muscles ease at the sound immediately. zhongli coos while his large palms soothe at the plush flesh of your thighs, careful of his long claws against your precious skin. he pushes your legs open even wider to allow his hips to drive in deeper and you keen when he seems to reach beyond what you can even fathom, broken mewls spilling out of your kiss-swollen lips.

“ah, that’s it. so perfect,” the godly being groans above you at the tight squeeze of your walls around him; he’s got you filled to the brim with both of his large cocks, and they sit heavy and hot in the wet depths of you.

you whimper when he shifts your hips upwards for better leverage. he settles your thighs at his waist while his hands grip even tighter into your hips. he slides even deeper into your weepy holes and all you can do is lay against the sheets and take what he gives. “zhongli, my love, please. i’m so full.”

zhongli’s hips retract before springing forward to offer you swift thrust. the clap of skin resounds in the air of your bedroom and it’s so beautifully lewd it makes your walls flutter. he’s looking at where your bodies are joined with the upmost adoration and love, amber eyes bright and so incredibly soft with fondness. “feels wonderful, doesn’t it?” he palms at the evident bulge in your tummy; he doesn’t miss the way you shudder under his hot touch. “you feel divine. so immensely perfect–” a thrust, “–around me.”

he presses forward, your thighs giving way as his larger frame folds yours in half. he mouths down your cheek to your neck, sharp teeth pricking playfully at your skin until you’re whining out. he’s so much deeper like this, in this mating press he’s now got you in. he thrusts and you swear the force of it shakes you to your core.

“going to breed you,” zhongli says lowly, voice gravelly and rough as he begins to lose himself to the way you wrap around his cocks. “my perfect little mate. you’ll take every last drop of my seed. won’t you, my dearest?”

your mouth opens to reply but oh how your lover likes to tease, driving his cocks deeper at the same time as you begin to speak; instead of words, the most helpless cry tumbles out of your throat.

teeth sink into the flesh of your neck hard, leaving behind a mark that’ll remain for the days to come. “you’ll be so beautiful pregnant with our child, all round and full. don’t you think so?” zhongli picks up his pace suddenly and your body rattles underneath him, crystalline beads falling down your cheeks as you grow overwhelmed. “tell me, you’ll let me make you wholly mine, yes? be the best mate and mother of our offspring.”

your mind is so full of cotton and pleasure and his words do nothing to help you, wearing you down until all that remains is the most vulnerable parts of you. you, your body are his. you give yourself to him completely; you wish to say it, to tell him, but in this state all you can manage is a broken, “yes!”

he’s pressing a languid kiss against your lips, swallowing your cries of bliss before his tongue slips its way through your lips, laving at your wet mouth with its forked tip. it’s messy just like what lies between your thighs where he enters you, over and over and as he fucks you closer to your completion. you’re so pliant and malleable for him as he molds you to his desire.

there’s a clawed thumb against your clit and your body jerks at the spike in pleasure. you’re so sensitive and overwhelmed with pleasure and his cocks and just him entirely. “zhongli, gonna cum!” and it’s all the warning you can offer him before you’re breaking under the weight of euphoria.

the god above you groans when you go rigid beneath him, holes so tight and wet around him. “good girl,” his hips stutter as he nears dangerously close to his own end. “my precious, perfect girl.” he fucks you through the last remaining moments of your orgasm, hips urgent as he seeks his own pleasure. you wail at the overstimulation, one of your small hands grasping at the golden marks on his bicep.

and just as he promised, he fills you with his thick seed, flooding the depths of you until it begins to seep around the base of his cocks. his body shudders under the immense pleasure, hips rocking once, twice before he stills completely.

“mine,” a kiss to your temple. “all mine.”

nat’s notes — was very much in my feels for these two dragon men thus this was created! also wanted to commemorate a successful banner for these two as it now nears it’s end. so happy to be a neuvi and zhongli haver. hope everyone had a great time, and got the character(s) you wished for! <3

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ethereal-inquisitor · 6 months ago

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Santa is on strike due to global warming. All presents this year will be delivered by Sasha the Christmas Tiger. Milk and cookies may not be sufficient.

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ethereal-inquisitor · 7 months ago

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I didn’t know I needed a zombie in my life until I read this, but I absolutely need a Ghost zombie in my life. Amazing series!

Sick <3 Masterlist - Complete

Zombie!Ghost x Survivor You ☢️🖤

MDNI - Over 18s only

Splish splash

Simon Ghost Riley

Blink once for yes

Don’t peek

“I’m scared.”

Clumsy kisses

“Please.”

Talk

Forbidden

Run

Heart to heart

Feral - Readers POV

Tame - Simon’s POV

Cuffs on for the time being.

Take me back to Eden

A Place Beyond Love

No Rest for the Wicked

Lightening Never Strikes Twice

Lead, and we will follow

Without you I’d die (again)

Headcanons

What does Zombie!Si look like in sick?!

How did Zombie!Si get turned?

Art by @dustycrusty09

The playlist:

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ethereal-inquisitor · 7 months ago

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Little Finch

Sometimes you forget how strong your scent blockers are. Your alpha teammates are visibly struggling with themselves as they stand in your home. Their noses working overtime. You've never used blockers while on leave or in your house. Now you wish you did.

Their unexpected visit shatters your beta claims. Now they know you're an omega. Your scent immediately souring, omegas are not allowed in the military.

"Easy..." Ghost voice rumbles as his scent tries to calm you.

Their eyes follow you as you creep behind the kitchen island, putting something between them and you.

"Ain't this something...." Captain Price speaks first.

"I'd say sorry for lying, but I'm not." Your voice wavering as they move towards you as a unit.

You know they won't hurt you, you're been on many missions together. More than earned your spot on the team. But the cats out of the bag now.

"An omega huh?" Gaz's voice has a playful lift to it, like he's telling a joke.

Soap pats his shoulder, "I fuckin knew it!"

That gives you pause, head tilting in curiosity.

You completely miss Price and Ghost stepping closer to the ends of the island.

Gaz laughs, "Some of those instincts hard to hide eh?"

Soap joins in with a chuckle, "The fussin over us after missions, making sure we've our plates before ya get one?"

You tense finally catching Price and Ghost moving closer, effectively trapping you.

Price clicks his tongue at your defensive posture, no doubt your scent is drowning with fear and anxiety.

"Be easy, Finch. Not gonna hurt you."

Your feet shuffle nervously, everytime you take your eyes off of Ghost, he moves forward and same with Price. Gaz and Soap are enjoying the show.

"Gonna scent you Finch, gonna reek of us." Ghost closes the gap and traps you against the island. Front pressed to your back, hands on either side of you.

"N'if I say no?" It comes out softer than you wanted it to.

"Captain's orders." Price says, joining Ghost's side.

You huff out a laugh, "Already scented me when I joined the team."

Soap leans across the island, catching your eye. "Scented yer fake scent, wanna bathe in your true scent. Smell so fuckin good."

Gaz agrees, "Smell like a damn cupcake."

"Teams gotta be scented properly, Finch." Price brushes a hand against your neck and you shiver.

"You....I can stay?" Your eyes catch Price's.

"Why the hell you think otherwise?" Ghost turns you to face him. "Just cause you're an omega don't mean shit."

Gaz cuts in, "Means a lot, Ghost. Means our Finch is even more resilient than we thought."

"Aye, further proves we should pack bond her." Soap wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Your face grows hot. They were discussing a pack bond? With you? Oh fuck. Was that why they came here?

"Hmmm, would you like that Finch?" Price chuckles as your breath hitches.

A small whine leaves your throat when Ghost tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. "Wanna be part of our pack?"

"Gonna build us a nest?" Gaz coos.

"Ye gonna fuss over us?" Soap joins in.

Their scents weave together, pheromones making you shiver. Heat traveling across your body.

"Oh fuck." You whisper out, eyes sliding closed.

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ethereal-inquisitor · 7 months ago

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All of these are amazing!

simon "ghost" riley ⏤ b's masterlist

(18+) — nsfw/sexual content included red — includes dark themes + content, detailed warnings (usually) provided strikethrough — active work in progress ⭐️ — personal favorite

if you would like to know when i post something new, please turn on notifications for @bi-has-written.

one-shots

the lamb experiment — 18+ the 141 are not known for their pliancy. in an effort to take back control, they send a lamb to slaughter.

mercenary!reader x ex-husband!simon — 18+ because there's nothing hotter than being covered in blood and debating whether or not to kill him or fuck him.

the arrangement — arranged-husband!ghost — 18+ ⭐️ what you want you cannot find. so you let someone else find it for you. the prequel why do you want forever? happily ever after you knew your other half would anything for you. anything.

johnny's a package deal — ghoap x reader — 18+ thinking about crushing on johnny and not realizing you needed permission to approach him. are we friends? you don't think ghost likes you very much.

slasher!ghost — 18+ being the final girl in ghost's slasher movie

a hand for a hand — knight!arranged-husband!ghost — 18+ in the year of our lord 1657, your king wields a weapon that cannot be reproduced. as your queen's lady-in-waiting, you steer clear of it, lest it cut you when it passes by. but duty and desire are rarely met in a man's world. an eye for an eye your husband bends to your will. men must learn from difficult lessons how far that bending goes.

attached — zombie apocalypse au — 18+ as long as you are not dead, neither am i.

one and the same — 18+ who to call to clean up after an "accident" than your sick and twisted military boyfriend?

the anatomy of us — alpha!ghost x omega!reader — 18+ we cannot change who we are at our core. part 1 — part 2

WIPs

the horror of the inevitable — soulmate!ghost — 18+ this love has always taken from me. now i want to take from you.

collections

bestfriend!roommate!simon — 18+ (hiatus) a collection of stories about lieutenant simon "ghost" riley and his childhood best friend who he is really, totally not even a little in love with.

mercenary!ghost — 18+ ⭐️ a collection of stories about ex-lieutenant simon "ghost" riley and the pretty little thing he traps in his cage.

the time rot collection — 18+ (hiatus) a collection of stories that asks what happens when your worst nightmare manifests in every timeline that you exist.

simon's mail-order bride — 18+

simon thoughts collection (18+ tag, one-shots and drabbles, a lot of my content lives here)

please do not copy and paste any of my work on another site. reblogs are appreciated and definitely desired.

i do not support a taglist.

i do take requests but can't always promise answering. they are always welcome in my inbox.

please assume all dividers are by @saradika-graphics

back to complete masterlist

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ethereal-inquisitor · 8 months ago

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My brain needed this today

Scaretale

It was a place the elders would warn you about. Devalued by superstitions and old wives tales. But they always feared all that simply isn't a conservative, proper way to find yourself a good husband. You saw it as it was - a place to meet and mingle. Perhaps an adventurous night that becomes a precious blushing story as you settle in the proper life as the society wants it. Or maybe, as you secretly hoped, it would bring you love you deserve. Which is why you took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. Into the all-monsters-welcome club. But there's always a grain of truth to the tales... Especially scaretales.

All coming soon!!! - between October 25th and November 11th

All the better to eat you - werewolf Steve x reader

To the victor go the spoils - minotaur Ari x reader

Don't need your name to own you - dark fae Ransom x reader

Viper's snare - naga Lloyd x reader

Relish your scream - vampire Bucky x reader

Forage and grind - orc Curtis x reader

What crawls beneath your skin - demon Nick x reader

Author's Note: These stories are set for Halloween season, so expect a darker vibe. A twist on real monsters, not men dressed as monsters. Most of the fics will brush or directly include dub-con, following the "careful what you wish for" trope.

Oh, and some of the results of the monster-y polls didn't spark my muse, so I switched those monsters. Writer's privilege 😎

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ethereal-inquisitor · 8 months ago

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Fancy Masterlist

A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life. Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate.

Ao3

Ch. 1: Here’s Your One Chance

Ch. 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Ch. 3: The Wheels of Fate Started to Turn

Ch. 4: Black Out Days

Ch. 5:

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ethereal-inquisitor · 8 months ago

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This is something I didn’t know I needed

Fancy

Ch 1: Here’s Your One Chance | Next | Ao3

MDNI

Vampire! Poly! 141 x Plus size! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A permanent darkness rests over the city. Cold, too. Despite living here your whole life you’ve never quite adjusted to the artificial nature of it - to the shadow hanging above the miles and miles of city and the constant chill on your skin.

Really, you aren’t meant to be here. This place isn’t built for humans despite the mass that live within the confines of the city’s dome. It’s made for creatures - beings of the night that stalk and rule. The air has become rotten in the lower neighborhoods over a century due to pollution and overpopulation. It will turn your lungs black before the age of five without the proper protection.

Apartment buildings are crowded and decent living conditions are hard to come by. Many have a waitlist longer than the human lifespan. Most operate on a dorm system - at least one person per room. Randomly assigned of course, based entirely on who can pay the rent. You’ve lucked out enough to earn a shitty studio to yourself. It’s cracked and crumbling but the locks are tight and it has a window - even if the view is just a building across the alleyway.

You squeeze into a black mini dress, tying your hair up to show off the double string of pearls on your neck. They’re the nicest thing you own - the only thing worthy of this club. The only thing that can project the image needed to get proper tips. Red lipstick as a final touch. It’s corny, you know, but the vampire clients are always suckers for it. Pun intended.

This job is important. There can’t be a hair out of place. This is your chance. Your one chance to make enough money to get out of the slums. To at least make it to the middle city. You can practically hear the grime on the sidewalk as you make your way toward the metro station. Dirt and debris so caked into the very air down here that you have to wear a respirator as you go. It’ll leave marks when you first take it off, but they usually disappear by the time you’ve made it from the depot to the club.

You don’t bother with sitting on the train. Hell will freeze over before you chance catching whatever new disease has grown in that Petri dish. Instead you join the rest of the patrons in awkwardly standing in the center of the cart, damn near falling over when the train lurches to begin its journey from the slums to the upper city. There are actual names for the two areas, but nobody uses them anymore.

The respirator makes a hissing sound as you remove it after stepping out of the train. The cool, clean air of the upper city fills your lungs. It’s satisfying in a way its sticky, filtered sister could never be. The faux fur of your cropped coat tickles a bit as you walk, blown by that strange breeze that never seems to stop in the upper city. The one that blows all the grime and smog downhill.

The club sits square in central downtown - the bottom level of a historical hotel. It’s an elegant building. Red with curled metal accents over the windows and doors. Modeled after the ancient art nouveau movement. It sparkles underneath the artificial LEDs of the city - all signs and glowing windows. You can always tell where the humans are, catching glimpses of that unmistakable glow only a UV light gives off.

You duck down the alley behind the hotel. Grimy and dark, the complete opposite of the front entrance. Your heels clack on the concrete loudly - echoing off the hard walls of the building surrounding you.

It’s easy enough to slip into the routine of your job. Going back and forth to the bartender, carrying various drinks and placating the egos of cowardly men and the vampires they lie to themselves about being equal to. You can see the hunger in their eyes when you tilt your head, exposing more of your neck to the light. When your wrists just pass their noses as you set down their glasses.

It’s hard work. Long hours and more days of the week than you would like, but it pays enough for you to afford your little apartment and save some for your future.

“Hey! New girl!” The owner barks at you as you gently set your tray back into the stack to be washed.

You whirl on your heel. Shit, did you fuck up? Ruin everything? Your mind runs through every interaction over the course of the night - every comment, every stilted moment. “Y-yes, sir?”

“Need you as a Companion.” He stands in front of you, the pinstripes of his suit warping over his massive crossed arms. The wrinkle in his nose makes his mustache twitch.

“C-companion!” You squeak. “I’m not-“

“We had a call out. Need you to take the private booth in the back.”

Your eyes are saucers - heart beating so hard you almost can’t hear his words. You don’t know what to make of this. His words are harsh and cut right though you, but the prospect they hold…

“You paying attention?” He grunts.

Your voice shakes. “Just… why me?”

“You match their preference.” Its blunt. Uncaring. Not that you would ever expect much sympathy from the owner of a place like this - feeding girls to vampires and their kin.

Generally, you’re not the type to be preferred - too big and soft for most. It’s what kept you as a server exclusively, you’re sure. Companion is such a major step up, too. You haven’t had any training. You never thought you’d get there - only a few girls make it from Server to Companion. To have it by happenstance…

With a deep breath you remind yourself that this is temporary. Just for tonight. You are acting as a replacement, nothing more. If you pull this off maybe you’ll get enough tips to finally replace the air filtration in your apartment. Maybe you can even get an overhead UV light. Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely!

Another tray is shoved into your hands. Is this… actual gold? Ornate designs line the outer rim - all weaving in and out of each other inlaid with iridescent mother of pearl. It’s cold on your hands and so shiny you catch your reflection in it before the bartender sets a bottle of wine and four glasses on it. You’re fairly certain between the wine and the tray you are holding upwards of four thousand dollars a in your hands. It takes everything to keep your hands from trembling.

You slowly head for the back booth - just beyond the main floor of the bar. It’s far more quiet here. The music from the floor muffled by distance. There are only a few private booths and they are only ever occupied by the city’s elite. The top of the top. You pause at the heavy, velvet burgundy curtain separating you and your clients for tonight. They could be anyone.

You hope they aren’t the type to get rough.

Balancing the tray on one hand, you use the other the push the heavy curtain to the side - entire body alert and tense as your eyes land on the four men sitting around the rounded booth. Their eyes meet yours, and you freeze. A shiver runs down your spine.

They’re beautiful in that way only vampires can be. Untouchable. Marble-esque. Eyes clear and bright even in the low light of the booth - that sheen of night vision apparent. Lions staring down their prey and you, who walked into the den willingly.

“Good evening.” It takes everything to keep your voice steady. To slip back into that comfortable customer service headspace you’ve curated over the years. “I’ll be your Companion tonight.”

“What happened t’ Cherry?” The man on the outer right side of the booth asks. His arm is slung carelessly over the back of the booth, body slack and comfortable.

“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You say softly, carefully sliding the tray onto the table. “If I’m not to your standards-“

“Well, now, none of us said that.” A man with an imperial beard smiles. It softens his face - makes him look less like stone. “What’s your name, dove?”

“Fancy.” You murmur. It’s your chosen work name - based on a song your mother used to play from a century ago. One of your earliest memories is her lifting you into her arms and spinning around to the song. All the workers names are single words. Easy to remember. Easy to request for returning quests.

“Fittin’.” The man to your left grins, bright blue eyes sparkling. His fangs catch the light - your hands tremble for a brief moment.

“Do you know who we are?” The masked man beside him asks. His voice rumbles through your nerves, all the way into your bones. You can hardly look at him - the skull covering the top half of his face makes your gut churn.

Should you know them? Oh, fuck, you probably should. Vampires live forever - their names and legacies travel across centuries. Millenia. It’s going to give you away. You’re just a low class human from the slums. You don’t know Vampires from the uppers.

The illusion of luxury only goes so far.

“It’s not a trick question.” The man to your right smiles gently, tilting his head to the side.

“No, sir.”

“Well,” The one with the beard sits a little straighter. “I’m John Price and these are my… confidants. Cohorts. Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley.” He gestures to each as he goes.

John Price… John Price… Nothing comes to mind. Nothing about any of them, for that matter.

“Lovely to meet you.” You smile pleasantly, slipping back into the script. Swallowing roughly and steadying yourself, you reach for the bottle and slowly pouring a tester amount into the four glasses. “Tonight we have a vintage red from 2089.”

John hums, swirling the glass before taking a sip. His eyes glow in the low bar light. “You remember the 80’s, Simon?”

“Which one?” The makes you pause. How many 80’s could there be?

John laughs, whole and hearty. Little crows feet appear in the corners of his eyes. “Which d’you think?”

“I remember the blood.” The masked man mutters. He doesn’t look at John - dark eyes locked on you. You keep up the well trained smile. Neutral, comfortable.

“Och, ye would.” Johnny scoffs, taking his own glass after John gives you a nod to fill the four properly. “Cannae ever remember the good.”

“Well what’s your finest memory then Johnny?”

“There’s was this lass… think her name was Cassandra. Had the biggest tits and-“

“Enough of that. Theres a lady present.” John waves his hand. To your surprise, Johnny actually listens despite looking muffed about it. You can’t help but snort. Lady. As if.

How old are they, anyway? They look young - especially Johnny and Kyle. Definitely below thirty when they were turned. John obviously leads but that doesn’t necessarily mean he turned the rest of them. They could have just come together over the years. Vampire covens vary heavily as to why they came together. Sometimes friendship, sometimes relation, sometimes just convenience.

Simon is still staring you down, hooking a thumb under his mask to raise it just over the end of his nose. Scarred lips sip from his glass.

“Come sit, luv.” Kyle pats the booth beside him.

You snap out of your thoughts at the prompt - moving to sit in the empty spot beside Kyle. The next thing you know hands are on your hips, passing you over until you’re sat square in the middle as if you weigh nothing. You know vampires are strong - you’ve gotten thrown around by your fair share in the slums, whether a mugging or fucking - but it still startles you. They could crush you with barely a flick of the wrist.

Fingers brush over your shoulders, tracing the shape of them before lowering to rest between your exposed shoulder blades. They’re cold and leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Tell us about yourself, hm?” John prompts.

“Oh, not much to tell.” You shrug and smile. “I’m from the city. Started here about a year ago-“

“How have we never seen ye then?” Johnny interrupts, eyes locked on your chest. “A bonnie thing like ye…”

“Well…” You raise your hand to your mouth like you would when whispering a secret. “I’m not supposed to tell but I’m actually a server, normally.”

“Oh, really?” Kyle leans his chin on his palm. “In a dress like that?”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” You huff, letting the pliant facade slip just enough to make yourself seem real. Just a little less doll like before you return to the script.

“Absolutely nothin’.” Simon hums beside you, eyes near black under the shadow of his mask.

Your face heats. Client compliments never get to you and you’re not sure what about his feels so different. All of their attention is so intense. It dives under your skin and burrows deep in your marrow.

“So, seeing as you implied I should know who you are-“ You tilt your head and meeting John’s eye, “who are you?”

John chuckles, leaning close. “Oh, no one important. Contractors. Independently employed.”

“Ah, so, criminals.” You laugh.

“If you say so.”

“I can’t exactly judge.” You lean in as well, shoulder pressing against his broad chest. The material of his suit is soft and thick. High quality. “I mean, look where I am, hm?”

“Are ye a criminal, lassie?” Johnny grins at you, tilting his head. How he makes a mo-hawk cute is beyond you.

“Shh.” You press a finger to your lips.

It’s easy enough to look sultry, to play the part, to mindlessly flirt. Easy enough to fall into the simple back and forth. Scripted. Basic. Nothing out of the ordinary. They’re just clients at the end of the day, even if they have more money and power than your usual crowd.

You carefully refill each of their glasses. You can feel their eyes on you - boring through your very being. It takes more concentration than you’d like to keep your breath from hitching when John’s hand rests on your upper thigh. You lean forward, pushing each glass back to their respective owners.

Johnny takes your hand before you can retract it, placing gentle kisses from your palm to your wrist. He sighs shakily, teeth catching your skin ever so slightly.

“Johnny.” The masked man rumbles in warning.

“Not gonnae bite, LT… she just smells incredible.” Johnny murmurs against your wrist.

“Have you ever been bitten, dove?” John asks, eyes half lidded as he stares you down. That feeling comes back.

Prey. You’re just prey.

“N-no…” You shake your head, voice smaller than you’d like. You’re not supposed to. Clients aren’t allowed to bite the girls here - it’s not one of those clubs - but in reality you’re at your mercy. To book one of these rooms they surely have the money to pay whoever necessary to do whatever they might want with you.

“Donnae look so afraid.” Johnny chuckles.

“We’re not goin’ t’bite.” Kyle leans forward. “Just curious.”

“Oh…” You whisper. Johnny drops your wrist and you pray that they don’t notice how quickly you retract it.

“Alright boys, time for business.” John sighs. He suddenly grabs your chin, turning you to face him. It’s a light touch, not too rough but solid. His pupils dilate and yours with them. “You’ll forget everything we say from now until I snap my fingers.”

The next thing you know you’re blinking blearily, sitting in John’s lap with your legs across Kyle’s. The younger man’s hand rests on your leg, thumb gently stroking your ankle as you come back to sentience.

It’s like coming up from the undertow and getting your first gasp of air.

“There she is.” Johnny murmurs, smiling softly.

You were compelled - you know that much. It’s disorienting. You rub the corner of your eye, purposefully evening your breath. At least your clothes are all still in place. You don’t feel… touched. Not bitten either. A choked sigh escapes you against your will, hands trembling in your lap.

“You’re alright, dove.” John coos, cold breath puffing against your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. How much time has passed? When… what… “Can be hard t’come out of it, hm?”

“I’m okay...” You whisper.

“Have some water.” Kyle pushes a glass toward you. The concern on his face feels foreign.

A large, empty decanter of scotch sits in the center of the table accompanied by several empty glasses. That’s the closest hint you have to how long you’ve been here. You take the glass of water shakily and sip, leaving an imprint of red lipstick on the rim.

John continues to coo and soothe down your hair. His other hand travels down to rest on your hip, holding you in place against him. It’s strange… this feeling. You’ve been compelled before briefly but it wasn’t like this. John has to be strong. Old. He’s been around a while to have that kind of power - for it to be this difficult for you to come out of the haze. It’s taking more concentration to keep from crying than you’d like.

Stranger, though, is the way they watch you. The way John works you back to reality. Most vampires would have been inappropriate while you were gone, wouldn’t bother with the borderline aftercare needed when coming out from under their spell. Most would have left you slumped in the booth - drained of blood and pleasure - laughing as they went.

You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter and gathering your wits. “Can I get you gentleman anything else?”

They share a look, one that you can’t quite interpret.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” John asks, voice low.

You look up at him with big eyes. Childlike, almost, staring up in wonder. It’s so strange how vampires aren’t quite white - they just lack the redness of life. The pink under the skin that signifies a beating heart and limited life span.

“I’m sure.”

John presses closer, breath caressing the shell of your ear. “Thank you for being so gracious f’us, tonight.

“Always…” There’s an honestly behind the word that startles you. A craving deep in your bones to prove yourself worthy of him and his men.

Strange.

“We best be on our way.” Simon rumbles, prompting Johnny to let him out of the booth.

John’s eyes flick between yours briefly before he moves you off of his lap with the gentle touch one might use when handling fine china. As much as you want to stay there, dazed and still coming down, you have work to do. So, you stand after them and begin slowly gathering the empty glasses on the tray. They feel heavier in your hand the normal.

A cold touch runs up your back and you freeze. Fingers trace the curve of your spine. You straighten, turning slowly only to meet those soft blue eyes again. John takes your hand, eyes alight with something you don’t understand. “I’ll tell the owner he’s wasting you as a servin’ girl. You’re made for more.”

Before you can even possibly decide how to respond, he’s gone. Disappeared through the curtain and into the forever night. Something crinkles in your hand. When you look down, slowly opening your fingers, the contents make your heart jump into your throat.

Cash. A massive roll of neatly banded cash.

How much is this? A thousand? More?

With frightened eyes and slippery hands you tuck the cash into the secret pocket of your coat. Having that much cash on your person is so out of your wheelhouse - out of the realm of possibility- you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t even get to say thank you.

Your mind whirls as you finish up your shift, eyes glazed over while slipping on your coat. The other girls look off put. A few whisper and stare.

What do they think you did?

Then again, you think as you brace yourself for the lurching and squealing of the metro, there isn’t any way to know what happened. Not unless one of the vampires tells you, and good luck prying any information out of one of them. Even if they tell you, they can just make you forget all over again.

How did you behave? Were you the same as always? Were you an entirely different person?

Some people forget themselves when under compulsion - every inhibition thrown to the wind carelessly. You need your inhibitions. They keep your job secure and yourself safe. You can’t afford carelessness.

The walk back home is tense. That small bulk in your pocket burns a hole though you as your mind runs with every possibility of what might have happened. What you might have done to earn such a massive tip. It can’t have been dignified, could it?

There’s no way they just like you. That’s not how vampires are.

It takes everything to motivate yourself to actually take off your clothing and jewelry before falling into bed. However long they had you, it drained you. Left you tired and shaky as you crawl under the thick bundle of quilts that make up for the lack of heating in your home.

Your eyes meet the wad of cash that barely fit in the inner pocket of your coat. It feels like a threat. Use me well or lose me forever! Make me count because you’ll never see me again!

For now, at least, you can bask in it.

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ethereal-inquisitor · 8 months ago

Video

This is the best thing

🐯 🐯 🐯

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ethereal-inquisitor · 9 months ago

Text

For reasons

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ethereal-inquisitor · 9 months ago

Note

Ah, Ari, he’s the best 🥰

ahhh, smutty september fest!!! we love to see it~ and omg congrats on your following, well deserved 🎉 👏🏼

Here is my submission for Slutty Septemb-ah:

prompt(S): 6 & 12 ✨

pairing: Mr. Ari Levinson x You!Reader (ahem - me! 🙋🏻‍♀️)

thank you for hosting this - eeeeeep, im excited!!

Unruly Burly Mr. Levinson

This is a part of Smutty September Fest!

Pairing: Ari Levinson x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: I would like to thank Mel for sending this delicious, beefy man my way and breaking my Ari virginity. I hope I did some juicy justice to your ASK. All Ari hoes, tell me if I did good! Looking eagerly to know your thoughts about my thots.

Warning: Mature Content, Minors DNI, Shameless flirting, overly possessive Ari, smut, dirty obsessed man Ari, fingering & hanky panky in a truck, somewhat public sex, curse words, tons of fluff, lemme know if I'm missing anything

Note: Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work! Banner credits to me and the photo credits to the internet.

Fair warning: Hurricane Helene has caused quite a lot of damage! We've been out of power since Friday, and it might take some time before they restore it! So, I wrote most of the story on my phone, and this is not an edited version! Ignore any massive errors. Will edit as soon as I can!

Check out my other works: Masterlist

Indulge Away!

****

Overtly sentimental may be the appropriate term to describe you because you wouldn't be here if not for that. The bar was alive with the kind of energy that only comes from a small town's weekend crowd. You were seated at a table with Brianna and her two other friends, who were well on their way to being tipsy.

It wasn't exactly your scene—never had been—but when Brianna had caught you at the grocery store earlier and asked to catch up for drinks over dinner, you were taken aback to see her all the way across from Seattle and felt a surge of nostalgia, so you agreed.

After all, you'd been kind of friends in high school. Though she stopped keeping in touch despite you trying to. Eventually, you gave up trying. So, you were pretty surprised when she hugged you and gushed about how happy she was to see you.

Her casual invitation for a night out seemed harmless enough until you found yourself amidst what appeared to be her pre-bachelorette party, whatever that was, for Brianna's upcoming wedding to Tim Bradon, the local real estate agent. You knew Tim; he had helped you with buying your art studio and home.

Terrynville wasn't a big town, but the houses were widespread and beautiful. Nestled deep in the mountains, almost everyone knew everyone, so you became curious about how Brianna ended up with Tim.

But it never got that far. Actually, the conversation never started, and you were trying to find your place in the dialogue as they gushed over the wedding.

Frankly, in your opinion, the whole evening had been a chaotic mess. When you met Brianna at Alice's, the Italian restaurant, you thought that's where you were going to dine in, but it took you by storm as Bri and her friends rushed you to Ronald's bar, which was located at the end of the town.

You started feeling out of place from the moment you sat in the car that took you to the bar. Brianna and her two friends seemed drunk and in high spirits.

They were dressed to the nines, dresses that fit too snugly, the kind of clothes meant to attract attention, while you felt far more comfortable in your simple dress.

Brianna was a striking brunette with long, wavy hair that cascaded down her back, framing her sharp, angular face. Her makeup was flawless, not a single strand of hair out of place, and her deep red lipstick seemed to declare that she wasn't here to blend in. She wore a tight, off-the-shoulder black dress that hugged her curves.

Cindy was a blonde with beachy waves, her hair almost platinum under the dim lights. She had the look of someone who had perfected the art of the gym selfie—toned arms, a slim waist, and a meticulously styled wardrobe. She wore a silky, emerald green blouse tucked into tight black pants, accessorized with gold jewelry that shimmered whenever she moved.

On the other hand, Jess had an air of mysterious elegance about her. Her hair was jet black, cut into a sleek bob, highlighting her high cheekbones and intense green eyes. She wore a dark purple jumpsuit that looked effortlessly stylish but screamed expensively. Her lips were painted a deep plum, and her gaze often lingered on the room with bored indifference, as if she were used to being in more exclusive places than this rustic bar.

You felt blindsided by this party and were itching to take leave. But you were not confrontational, and your job as an artist gave enough leeway and never hindered you from being non-confrontational.

You'd much rather be at home, with your easel and paints, working on your next order than sit in a crowded place, shouting beyond wits for the sake of fun. It was just not you.

The loud chatter was starting to wear on you, and you glanced at the time, wondering how long you needed to stay before making a polite exit, as you were busy concocting a reason.

From where you sat facing the deck outside, tucked away in the corner of the dimly lit room, you could see through the large glass doors leading to the small deck overlooking the mountains. A few strands of fairy lights hung across the wooden beams outside, their soft glow twinkling like stars against the deepening night. The lights swayed gently in the breeze, casting a golden hue.

Inside, the atmosphere was far from serene. Despite that, the little corner you were huddled in felt strangely detached. The round leather booth you were seated in was positioned in such a way that it offered some privacy, partially hidden from the bustle of the main area.

The clink of glasses, the hum of voices, and the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby group faded slightly, leaving you to observe everything from a distance.

Brianna and her friends stood out like neon signs against the rustic backdrop of the mountain town bar. They were clearly city girls, their outfits and energy screaming a kind of cosmopolitan confidence that felt slightly out of place in Terrynville and attracted much attention.

They were all engaged in their own conversation about some reality show you hadn't heard of, and you smiled, nodding along to the conversation, though you were barely paying attention.

You were too busy wondering how long you could stay before escaping. This wasn't your crowd, and it definitely wasn't your scene. But Brianna seemed to be completely unaware of your state.

"Oh. My. God," Brianna whispered, sitting up straighter in her chair and nudging you none too gently.

"Look," she squeaked, pointing somewhere behind you. The conversation ceased around the lounge area as they all turned to look.

"Hot mama… he is a snack," Cindy whispered, her voice a little too loud and her gaze fixed. Your curiosity piqued when you followed her line of sight, wondering who on earth had her attention.

You froze.

Ari Levinson.

Sitting at the far end of the bar, illuminated by the low lights, he looked effortlessly magnetic and impossibly handsome, wearing a worn blue button-down shirt, the short sleeves showing off his strong arms, and a pair of dark jeans that hugged his thick thighs.

His dark hair was a little longer, curling slightly at the ends near his neck, and his beard was scruffy, giving him a rugged, just-walked-out-of-the-woods look. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine—a mountain man with a touch of danger.

You blinked, your frown deepening, though not because you weren't happy to see him.

You were, but not here.

He was lounging casually on the tiny barstool like he owned the place, drawing attention with his broad shoulders, biceps straining his shirt sleeves, and that silent confidence he always carried. His dark hair was tousled in a way that drove you wild.

You immediately looked away, hoping Brianna and her friends hadn't noticed your reaction. But they were too busy plotting. One of the other girls nudged Brianna, laughing. "Go talk to him, Bri."

You almost choked on your drink.

"Bri," you said slowly, trying to stop what you knew was coming. "Maybe don't—"

But before you could intervene, Brianna sauntered—or, more accurately, stumbled—over to Ari, her hips swaying exaggeratedly as she approached, her stiletto heels clicked ungracefully against the wooden floor.

Two nearby tables sat empty, and you had a clear view from the corner.

Ari frowned at her for a moment, looking at her, his brow furrowed slightly.

Your heart raced, your fingers curling around the glass in front of you.

Ari's face was unreadable at first, but slowly, his gaze shifted past Brianna—landing directly on you, almost like he sensed you staring at him. His blue eyes softened as they met yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You felt your stomach flip as heat crept up your neck. Ari's gaze was intense, unapologetically taking you in, and your pulse quickened.

He wasn't just looking at you; he was stripping you naked with that look.

Heat crawled up your neck as his gaze flicked from your face, slowly trailing down your body, before returning to meet your eyes with a burning intensity. You felt your cheeks flush, even as you tried to maintain a neutral expression. Meanwhile, Brianna continued talking, unaware that Ari wasn't paying attention to her.

You watched with muted horror and amusement as she boldly touched his arm and batted her lashes. You couldn't hear what she was saying over the noise of the bar, but it was clear she was going all in with the flirting, leaning in closer and smiling up at him like she had him wrapped around her finger.

You sighed, knowing full well this was about to go very wrong.

Ari's reaction, as you guessed, was not what Brianna expected. His jaw tensed, and then, in one swift movement, he moved away from her touch like it had stung him.

You almost gasped at how rudely he raised his hands, gesturing her to move away. Brianna's confusion was obvious as her attempts at flirting hit a wall.

His lips moved, and though you couldn't hear the words, you saw the flicker of shock cross Brianna's face. She blinked, taken aback, before scurrying back to your table, her confidence deflating like a popped balloon.

"What did he say?" Cindy asked eagerly, eyes wide.

Brianna slumped into her seat, pouting. "He said, 'Don't touch me,'" she double quotes, slurring and gulping down her drink. She crossed her arms, clearly not used to rejection. "Jerk."

You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile. Of course, Ari had no patience for the kind of attention Brianna was giving him. He wasn't one to sugarcoat things either, and he is known to be blunt.

You wanted to butt in, but the girls were talking, more like cursing, at lightning speed. You sighed internally, chuckling, sipping onto the drink, and deciding to stay put.

Brianna's mood soured as more and more discussion spewed about her getting rejected.

"Well, he's missing out," Jess said, trying to comfort Brianna. "You're way too hot to be turned down like that."

"He's totally into guys," Cindy suggested, though her statement lacked conviction. Brianna huffed, agreeing.

Nope, he's not. He's definitely not. You thought to yourself. You sighed, wondering if you should explain. However, the fact that they were beyond reasoning and also drawing so many conclusions gave you a whiplash. In all honesty, you might not meet them ever again. So, you reveled a bit in the chaos but needed to call it a night.

Talking yourself into it and taking a few deep breaths, you cleared your throat, turning your attention back to Brianna, "I think I'm going to head home, Bri," you said, standing up. "I've got a big order to handle tomorrow, and I really should get some rest."

Brianna, clearly still flustered from being turned down, gave you a confused look. "Wait! Already? We were just getting started!" she said.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, sorry. It was great catching up, though. Good luck with the wedding."

Brianna hugged you briefly before settling down in the chair, "Thanks." you said, wishing the others bye.

You gathered your things quickly, but you got startled by the sudden shriek Cindy let out.

"Oh, look, he's coming; guess he realized his mistake, Bri…," she chuckles, swooning with the others.

You turn around to look at him.

Ari was approaching your table, his steps slow and deliberate. You could hear the giggles and the sighs over your ringing ears. But Ari's attention was entirely focused on you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a jolt of heat through your body.

He stands way too close to your tiny form, towering over you. You could feel his gaze on you—those mischievous eyes practically daring you to look at him.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly as he checks you out.

Your cheeks burned as Ari's teasing words and lingering gaze engulfed you. It was infuriating how he could dismiss Brianna so effortlessly, only to turn around and flirt with you in front of her. It must be so humiliating for her.

You felt a blush creep up your neck, and though you tried to maintain your composure, the way he looked at you made it almost impossible. Still, you weren't about to let him get the upper hand, especially not with the girls watching.

You knew Brianna was throwing daggers. Rightfully so, because what Ari was doing right there was appalling.

The way his eyes had swept over you from head to toe was enough to make your skin prickle. His blatant rejection of Brianna, who was now sulking with her friends, and his smirking, possessive gaze on you felt almost like a spectacle. You didn't want to be part of the scene unfolding around you.

"I think I'm good," you remarked.

Ari chuckles, taking another step closer, folding his arms, showing off his bulging biceps, his gaze locked over yours, challenging you and making your breath hitch. "You sure? You look like you could use a little fun tonight."

The discomfort twisted in your stomach. Everyone had seen Brianna's bold attempt to flirt with Ari, and now they were watching as you became the focus of his attention. You were mortified, and the need to get out of there was overwhelming.

You could feel the girls staring at you, their eyes practically bulging out of their heads. You could practically hear their gasps.

But you weren't about to give Ari the satisfaction of flustering you or putting you on the spot any more than he did. At least not in front of an audience. "I think I'll pass, thanks." You say confidently, stepping around him and waving at the shocked expression of Bri and the others before making a beeline to the door.

The cool night air was a welcome relief as you stepped outside, the sky above sparkling with stars, a beautiful contrast to the warmth of the bar. The faint smell of firewood lingered in the air, adding to the charm of the mountain nights. You barely took a few steps when you heard his heavy boots crunching on the gravel behind you.

"Hey, where you headed?" Ari's familiar voice called, far too casual for what he'd just pulled.

You slowed but didn't stop, rolling your eyes as you kept walking. "I have places to be," you tossed over your shoulder, though you couldn't keep the playful edge out of your voice.

He laughed—actually laughed—and you felt his presence get closer until he was walking beside you, that cocky grin of his unmistakable even without looking at him.

"Come on now, don't run away from me, sweetheart." His large palm envelops your forearm firmly, stopping you in your tracks, his tone teasing but with that protective dominance you were all too familiar with.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying not to let the heat in your cheeks show.

"Ari," you sighed in a low tone, barely concealing your amusement coupled with frustration.

"You didn't have to turn me down that hard, you know," his deep voice caressed your ears as he traced your arm with his fingers, his voice low and amused as he walked beside you.

You glanced up at him, giving him a playful smirk. "What? Afraid of a little rejection?"

Ari chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. And you leaned onto his chest, heart racing as his hand traced lazy circles on your hip.

"So," you said after a pause, your curiosity getting the better of you. "What are you doing here? You don't strike me as the type to hang out at bars, Mr. Levinson."

"Mr. Levinson? Really?" he asks, chuckling, rubbing his left palm on his beard, shaking his head. He pushes the hair that falls onto the sides and studies you for a long minute, and a grin forms on his face. He nods to himself.

He licks his lips, enticing you to capture them and lets his fingers caress the length of your throat, and you gasp loudly.

His gaze darkens as he pushes his thumb on your pulse point, rubbing it gently and moving his hand to your shoulder, picking up a small fallen leaf carried by the wind. He flicks it off as he envelops you in his arms, with one large hand firmly holding the small of your back and the other draping around your neck and pulling you impossibly closer.

He smells like woodsmoke and has a strange scent that makes him him. Your senses are overtaken by need as you stare at him. He bends down to rub his sharp nose on your cheek, leaving tingles everywhere.

You were remotely mindful that no one except you two was on this side of the bar.

"I could say the same about you," his raspy tone sends shivers down your spine. Then one second, you were looking at him; the other, he pulled you into a rough kiss, biting your bottom lip and pushing his tongue inside as he rubbed your ass before moving both his hands underneath to lift you in his arms and carrying you forward, navigating through the cobbled path from the bar to the gravelly parking lot.

You card through his hair, tugging him closer as you moan into his mouth.

You feel your back against the cool metal, conscious of the truck you were pressed to, and you break the kiss in need of breath. Ari groans, rutting his hard bulge against your heated core, humping into you, making you moan.

A sense of rationality came over you, and you pulled back slightly. "Ari, no," you shake your head.

He grumbles but agrees, placing his forehead against yours, chuckling. You take a few deep breaths, and he adjusts your dress, straightening it down your thighs. Your heart warms for this giant of a man.

As you look around to see if anyone has noticed your debauched display, your eyes widen when you catch the sight of the back of the truck. You snicker.

A mattress was laid out in the back, draped in cozy blankets and pillows, making it look like the perfect spot for a late-night getaway.

"Wait a second! Were you planning on getting lucky with someone?" you asked.

Ari grinned, the picture of shamelessness. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" You tried to sound unimpressed, but the glint in his eye had your heart racing again.

He stepped closer, his body towering over you as his hand cupped the back of your neck.

"Depends," he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek.

"Are you free, Mrs. Levinson?" he rasps, placing a kiss right under your jaw.

Your pulse quickened as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, slow, and passionate kiss. When he pulled away, you were breathless.

"You're a little full of yourself tonight, aren't you?" You playfully hit his shoulder, composing your breath.

He chortles, a cheeky grin adorning his gorgeous face, "I want you to be full of me," he quips, and before you respond, he pulls you into another kiss.

"You know, I really should be heading home," you said, breaking the comfortable silence, a sly smile playing on your lips as you glanced up at him.

Ari's brow furrowed in mock confusion. "Oh yeah? And why is that?"

You shrugged, playing it casual. "My husband will be worried."

Ari's smirk faltered for half a second before the glint in his eyes returned. "Your husband, huh? What's he like? Big guy? Tough?"

"Mmm hmm," you hummed, lips curling into a grin as you looked ahead. "Six foot four. A bit unruly, zero social skills."

He let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the game. "Oh, I see. Sounds like a real gem. Must be something special to keep a spitfire like you around."

You nodded, biting back a smile as you continued. "Oh, he is. A real sweetheart. Very protective, too. He wouldn't like it if he knew some guy was following me around and making out with me."

You gave him a mock-serious look, trying to maintain the act. "You really don't want to mess with him, though. He's... got a temper sometimes, especially when it comes to me."

Ari has a hand over his chest as if your words had wounded him. "Is that so? Maybe I should be worried then. Don't want this big tough husband of yours coming after me." His voice was playful, but his eyes showed an unmistakable glint of affection.

You tiptoed to get closer, and he held you up, pressing you against his muscular body, "Yeah, you really should be," you said in a teasing tone.

Ari stepped away from the truck, pulling you with him, his hand gently resting on your waist.

His voice dropped lower, a bit more intimate but still playful. "Guess I'll have to be extra careful then. Wouldn't want to cross him. I should probably drop you home safely, too."

You nodded.

As you tried to walk towards the passenger seat, Ari, ever the gentleman even when being a cheeky pain, slipped his arm away and turned to you with that playful grin you knew all too well.

Before you could protest, Ari lifted you up in one smooth, effortless motion as though you weighed nothing. You squealed, pretending to squirm, but it was hard to resist how careful and deliberate he always was when handling you—his touch as gentle as it was possessive.

"I can walk, you know," you laughed, even as your arms instinctively wrapped around his broad shoulders for support.

He chuckled as he carried you over to the passenger side. "Oh, I know you can, sweetheart, but where's the fun in that? Besides, your husband would never forgive me if I didn't treat you right."

You rolled your eyes, catching the glint of mischief in his gaze as he set you down on the passenger seat with surprising tenderness. "Oh, really?" you asked, a smirk playing on your lips as you adjusted in the seat but made no move to stop his hovering.

Ari leaned into the doorframe, resting one arm above your head, looking down at you with a gaze so intense it made your breath catch for a second.

"Yeah, he's real picky about his girl, y'know. I heard he doesn't like when other men hold her or touch her or even look at her too long."

You tilted your head, matching his gaze with a raised brow. "He's possessive. Maybe too possessive."

His smirk deepened, and he reached down, his large hand cupping your chin gently. "Maybe. But you know how much he loves you."

As you sat idly, annoying Ari, you noticed the truck wasn't following the familiar route home. Instead, he was driving deeper into the woods, the road quieter and darker, with only the stars lighting the way.

You shot him a curious glance. "You missed the turn."

Ari didn't even look at you, that maddening grin still on his face. "Did I?" he said casually, his thumb lazily tracing circles on your leg. Your brows furrowed, but a spark of intrigue flickered in your chest. Ari gave you a side glance, his blue eyes glinting with mischief.

Ari's hand, still warm on your thigh, slowly inched up underneath the hem of your dress, and you clenched in anticipation.

"Open up," he orders, and you obey just like that. His fingers trace your inner thigh, and you hiss at the coldness.

"I know, sweetheart, my fingers are fucking cold, let's warm them up, yeah?" He says, pulling your panties aside and rubbing them on your slickening pussy, and you hold onto his arm with one hand and the seatbelt with the other.

He slowly inches his middle finger, effectively shutting your needy cries, and you are speechless at the sudden sensation.

"Fuck," he sighs as he slowly fingers you adding another and curling them up, finding his favorite spot that makes you sing for him.

"Ari…fuck don't stop," you shout and he chuckles darkly. "Begging me so nicely," He sped up just a tad bit more, and you cum too quickly, desperately holding both your hands onto his arms tightly.

He doesn't pull out despite your wiggling; he gently rubs your clit, and you thrash in your seat, overstimulated. "Ari, no…please…"

"You can take it. I know you can," he says, rubbing your clit, effectively shutting you up and proving you wrong as you feel your orgasm careening to collapse you into the pits of pleasure.

"Let go," he says firmly, and you do, crying out his name. He pulls out his fingers, making you hiss as you feel your slick flow out of you.

He kept driving, the narrow road winding further into the quiet wilderness. The distant sound of the town faded until all you could hear was the soft hum of the engine and the rustle of trees in the night breeze. You couldn't help but feel a little thrill.

Finally, after a few more minutes, Ari pulled off the road into a clearing. He parked the truck, turned off the engine, and the silence of the night settled around you both. Above you, the sky was breathtaking—a blanket of stars stretching out in every direction, undisturbed by the lights of town.

Ari glanced over at you, his grin turning softer, more sincere. He opened his door and hopped out of the truck with his easy grace. He quickly approached your side, opening your door before you could even reach for the handle. "Come on," he said.

Without a word, he reached down and, just like earlier, lifted you up from the seat, effortlessly cradling you in his arms. You let out a soft laugh, half protesting,

"Ari! I can walk, you know."

He shot you a look, raising one brow. "I'm aware."

Before you could argue, he was carrying you to the back of the truck. He gently set you down, sitting you on the edge of the open tailgate. The cool metal contrasted with the warmth of his touch, and you leaned back, letting him guide you onto the mattress.

He had started peeling off your panties, to your utter shock.

"Ari…," you started.

"Lay down and spread them," he says firmly, and you know you cannot deny him when he uses that tone on you. He knows and uses it to your absolute misery. You know you could have stopped him at any point, but you don't, which was enough motivation for him.

The first lick had you moving away from his clutches, and he held you down with his forearm firmly placed on your tummy, chuckling.

"Oh, sugar, are you denying me?" he asks, and you shake your head. "Be a good girl," he warns before sucking on your clit, slowly inching you to another orgasm as he licks you up shamelessly good, groaning in delight.

Your head spins as you look at him get into the truck.

He sits on his heels, peels off his shirt, and unbuckles his jeans. That sight itself has you clenching again.

He leans forward, pulling you into a sensual kiss, biting and nipping just the way you like.

"Fuck," he grunts as he pushes into you. "Soaking me so good," he stills, grunting as he leans down to kiss you, devouring you in every sense possible.

He slowly pulls back as he pants, rocking his hips sensually, melting your insides. The slow build-up has you groaning into his sternum, lightly biting onto his hairy chest.

Your hands find purchase on his back as you clutch him tightly. His smell consumes you, and you gasp for breath as your orgasm builds and builds, reaching you to the brink.

"Jesus," he groans in delight, sitting on his heels to pull you onto his thighs and push himself down to kiss you. You teeter, eyes shutting on their own accord at the angle his cock thrusts into you.

"Such a greedy little thing, aren't ya?" he taunts, slowing his pace to your utter annoyance.

He may be right about you being greedy. Can you be blamed? No. He's made you cum with his mouth and fingers already.

Now, he's fucking you good with his cock and expects you not to be greedy when you feel that little monster showing you heaven. Pfft!

You roll your hips in need.

"In a hurry?" he taunts, raising his brows, a smug grin on his face as he nips your jaw.

You whine needily as he holds back.

"Yes, you see, my husband's waiting home for me. He'll be worried sick," you almost cry as he pulls back and gives you a deep thrust. He tuts, letting out a grunt as he places both his palms beside your head, and you can see the bulging vein on his throat and forehead under the starry sky.

He chuckles, and before you retort something smart, he is fucking you with so much vigor you are almost being pushed backward. Ari held you down.

"Such a precious thing for me, aren't you? I'll fuck you and fill you up nice and good," he groans as he bites down on your shoulder, surely leaving a mark. Your mind goes into delirium, and you resort to begging.

"Please, please, please…Ari."

"Where do you want it the first time? Huh," he grits, sweat dribbling over his brow. You wipe it away. "In me," you whisper, and he groans, chuckling, too pleased with your answer, as he gives three more thrusts before you feel the sudden warmth from the ropes of his cum fill you.

"Fuck," he cries out loudly, hips stuttering as he repeats your name like a prayer and stares into your eyes, demanding to see you as he fills you up, despite his eyes rolling with pleasure. You clench him in delight as another orgasm consumes you.

You both stay there for a long time, enjoying the aftermath.

Ari moves over you, kissing your nose gently and stares at you with adoration.

"Your husband must be worried," he says impishly. You roll your eyes, pushing his hair away and pulling him in for a small kiss.

"Nah, he's a little shit. He'll be fine," you grin, chuckling at his narrowed eyes.

"Really? You wanna sass me while I'm still semi-hard inside you," he warns, rocking his hips gently, and you whimper, slightly giggling. You could feel him harden, making you moan.

"See what you do to me?" he grins as he lazily picks your legs, winds around him, and sets a languid pace. You feel your belly tighten, and you moan lewdly as he fucks his cum deep inside you.

"Ari," you complain, cry, wail, beg all mixed into one.

He moves out of you, making you gasp for breath. He taps your hip, easily turning you around so your face presses into the pillow. He nudges your thighs apart and enters in a quick thrust. Your groans reverberate together, and the force of his thrusts has the truck swaying.

He pulls your hair in a pony and yanks gently. You cry in delight. The slick sounds and his gentle grunts have you building up to another orgasm.

"Cum for me, baby girl," he hisses, and you do. He follows you, collapsing with you, pulling you under him, breathing heavily, his heavy puffs soothing your heated skin alongside the cool breeze.

When you both catch your breath, he cleans you both up with his t-shirt, marveling at how your cum was leaking from your soaked pussy.

Covering you both with a warm blanket, he pulled you into his arms, and you both cuddled under the starry sky for a long time, drifting on and off into sleep.

"Ari," you called out to him in a low, gentle tone.

He hums into your neck, his breath tickling you delectably.

Barely concealing your amusement, "What were you doing at the bar?" you ask him.

He shrugs, finally looking into your eyes as he adjusts himself on the pillow properly so he's inches away from your face. You both were so close you could see his eyes twinkle.

"You left me alone too long. I got worried." His hand found the small of your back, massaging you gently.

You look at him with a narrowed gaze, and he smirks, his eyes dropping to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

Your frown deepened, but it was laced with affection now.

"So?" You wait a beat longer for him to delineate further, but he doesn't budge, massaging your shoulders so deliciously that you almost let the discussion go.

However, your curiosity got the better of you. "What were you really doing there? Did you decide to follow me?" Because it can't really be put past his caveman tendencies.

Ari's grin widened. "Didn't need to. Mick texted me."

"Mick?" you asked, confused.

"Yeah," Ari chuckled. "He saw you in the bar and thought it was strange that you were out without me tagging along. He wanted to know if I lost track of you. He said, and I quote, 'strange to see your wife out and about without her bodyguard.' I really thought he was joking at first." Ari snickers, his chest vibrating under your palms.

You scoff, placing your chin on his bare chest, "Of course, he did. Mick has no chill."

Ari agrees, clearly enjoying the situation. "I was wondering why you were at a bar instead of grabbing dinner like you said. Then I tried calling you but couldn't reach you. So, I figured I'd better come down and see what's going on."

You stared at him for a moment, trying to hold back your laughter. "You came all the way to the bar because Mick thought it was strange I was without you?"

Ari shrugged, his smirk widening. "Well, he's not wrong, is he? I'm usually glued to your side."

"Possessive much?" you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.

Ari's hand slipped around your waist, pulling you closer until you were lying atop him, deliciously pressed onto him.

"I'm just a needy man for you, sweetheart," His lips brushed the top of your head, his voice dropping to a low rumble. His fingers gently trace circles on your lower back. Ari wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

"Good thing, too. I couldn't just let you fend off those vultures by yourself."

"You're ridiculous," you muttered, though you leaned onto him, resting your head against his heart as he rubbed lazy circles on your hip.

Ari leaned down, his lips brushing your forehead as he whispered, "But you love me anyway, don't you?"

Your face flushed at his nearness. The way his voice sends a rush of warmth through your veins and fills your heart with a sense of joy is insane.

"I plead the fifth." You jest.

"Oh yeah? Let's see how you plead the fifth when I spank your fine ass," he mutters, tucking you under his chin, making you giggle. Though you were not entirely against that idea.

"I love you," you whispered against his heart, and he squeezed you tightly against him.

****

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