#almost a third of them are rated explicit. of course. of fucking course

[ssstrawberryflowers]

WAIT WAIT GIRLS GIRLS GUYS GUYS

ULTRAKILL REACHED THE FUNNY HELL NUMBER ON AO3

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 11

Day Ten | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Twelve

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked.

Notes: This isn't technically Bruce and Shop Girl, but it can be read that way. That said, because it isn't technically them, it will not be linked on the masterlist for The Other Half.

Warnings: Blindfolding; hide-and-seek/prey-play adjacent; blowjob; cunnilingus; vaginal sex; unsafe sex; creampie

“You ready?” 

“You don’t need to ask,” Bruce argues.

You fold your arms across your chest, taking a good, long look at him. He’s just a few feet away—shirtless, wearing a pair of light grey sweatpants. The view you have of him is one that most of the women in Gotham would likely envy…Save for the fact that his eyes are covered with a bandana, wrapped and tied as tightly as he could stand. You take the opportunity to blatantly roll your eyes, turning toward the crate of bean bags. 

“I saw that," He warns.

Your jaw drops open in shock.

“Fuck off, there’s no way.”

Bruce laughs, and you huff, lobbing a bean bag at his head. He swats it away without hesitance, shifting and waiting for the next one. 

“Little shit,” You mutter, throwing the next one. He catches it, lobbing it back. You yelp, ducking out of the way. 

“Hey! That is not the point of the exercise.” 

“What is the point, again?” 

“You’re slowing down, old man.” 

You grin as Bruce’s jaw tightens. Christ, that’s a good look. You so rarely see Bruce stern like this. You almost never see him as Batman—at least, not up close. When you see him like this, it’s…Intriguing. You swipe your tongue across your lips, stepping as silently as you can to a different side of him. You watch him closely, wary of him showing any signs of catching on. You throw one at him underhand, and he catches it, then tosses it away again. Dangit. 

“How are you,” You toss one, “So,” Another, “Frickin’,” A third, “Good at this?”

You aim the final one directly at his head. He doesn’t miss a single one, either dodging or swatting them away as he inches closer and closer to you. Your stomach swoops with panic. You stop heeding your attempts to be quiet, hurriedly pelting Bruce with the bean bags as you scramble to get away. When you run out of them, you turn your back to him, scrambling to reach one of the discarded bags. You don’t get far. Your fingers just graze the fabric, scrabbling for it as Bruce’s arm hooks around your middle. You shriek as your back meets his hard chest, your heart pounding as he presses tightly against you. 

“Call me an old man again,” He murmurs low in your ear.  

“Why?” You fight to keep your tone steady. “Did it turn you on that much? Should’ve told me sooner.” 

He huffs softly, turning his head just a touch, his lips brushing against your ear. 

“Tell you what,” He murmurs, thumb sweeping along your side. “You run, and you hide, and we’ll see just how fast I find you.” “With the blindfold on?” 

“Of course.” 

You bite your lip, considering for a moment. 

“What happens if you can’t find me?”

“We can do whatever you want.” 

“...With the blindfold?” 

“Like I said,” He draws back with a pat to your hip. “Whatever you want.” 

“And what if you do find me?” 

“We do whatever I want.” 

-- 

You have to be judicious about your hiding place. The Manor is so vast, and there are so many rooms that you’ve never gotten around to exploring. Now isn’t the time to poke around. You need your hiding place to be strategic. You need a spot that you know well already—one with good cover and where you can fidget without making much sound. You’re awful at sitting still in general, and worse still when you’re stressed. 

You duck into the kitchen, looking around. Bruce gave you a two-minute head start, and you trust him to keep to it, and not to remove the blindfold. Still—with how easily he’d managed to defend against the bean bags, you’re not certain you’ll be able to hold out long. You look around hurriedly, beginning to panic. Shit, shit shit shit. Where can you hide? In a cabinet? In the pantry?

You turn, spotting the long table in the middle of the room. You hurry over to it, gently lifting the chair at the head of the table back. You hurriedly crawl under the table, sliding the chair back in as quietly as possible. You lay down on your belly and draw in deep, even breaths, trying to calm your pounding heart. It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be fine. Bruce probably isn’t going to bother to look for you down here.

-- 

The padding of his feet makes your heart leap into your throat. Your hands curl into fists, and you swallow thickly. Keep calm. Keep calm. Deep, even, quiet breaths. You don’t dare move a muscle. You glance up, spotting Bruce’s feet as he walks deeper into the room. He’s moving slowly, with care. You can hear him sweeping his hand across the cabinets, knocking his hand across the countertops. You glance over, tracking his feet as he walks slowly around the table. Your stomach swoops as you hear him lifting away the chair at the other end of the table. You hesitantly lift your head, turning it slowly to look at Bruce. 

He crouches beside the table. If he didn’t have his blindfold on, you’d be almost certain that he was peering directly at you. It’s a long, harrowing, silent moment before he straightens up. You puff out a quiet, relieved breath. He’s missed you, thank god—

You scream as his hands close around your ankle, yanking you out from under the table. You pant, panicked as you roll onto your stomach, batting at his chest as nervous giggles burst from your lips. He grins, grasping your wrists and pinning them above your head. His smile is bright, giving you a good view of his dimples. You giggle again, shifting beneath him. 

“That was stupidly fast.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Bruce insists. 

“I know you didn’t.” 

-- 

Your eyelashes brush against the scratchy fabric of the bandana as you feel the cool marble of the floor against your bare body. You can’t see him, but you can feel Bruce all over you. You can feel his lips brushing against your neck, his chest pressed hotly against yours as his hips rolls against yours. He’s hard and hot against you, his thigh is tucked between your legs for you to grind up against. 

You whimper softly, pressing up against him as much as you can. His hands are grasping your wrists still, keeping you prone no matter how much you struggle against him. You raise your legs, hooking them around his, and fighting back a warming swell of embarrassment as he chuckles. 

“I didn’t think you’d get this turned on from a little game of hide and seek,” He teases. 

“It wasn’t that. At least—it wasn’t just that.” 

“Oh no?” He tips his chin up, nipping your earlobe. “You wanna tell me just what it was?” 

“Bruce,” You whine softly, grinding down against his hard, muscled thigh. “Are you gonna be a dick and drag this out, or are you going to give me what I want?” 

Bruce hums thoughtfully, and you feel his body lift away from yours. You can hear him shifting, feeling the grip on your wrists turn. 

“I thought that the deal was that if I won, I could have whatever I wanted," He reminds you.

“What do you want?” 

You wait for a few, harrowing, silent moments before you feel the brush of his cockhead against your lips. You part them, swiping your tongue across the head. You hear Bruce groan softly, feel him pressing more deeply into your mouth. You bob your head, taking as much of him in as you can with your neck craned in such an awkward position. Bruce lowers his hand to trace the swell of his cockhead as it presses against the inside of your cheek. His fingers trail down your neck, along your clavicle before delicately swirling around your pebbling nipples. You strain up into the touch, whining in frustration as he never quite makes the contact that you’re aching for. 

You pout as you feel Bruce draw back. Before you can complain, he slaps his slickened head against your lips again, groaning softly as you stick your tongue out for him. He curses under his breath, giving his hips one more harsh shove before he pulls away again completely. You frown as his grip on your wrists slackens, then disappears completely. Your stomach flips with anticipation and confusion as you feel him grip your thighs, spreading them wide.

The first hot swipe of Bruce’s tongue against your needy pussy makes you moan, your hands blindly scrabbling for purchase. You finally hook them in Bruce’s hair, using the grasp to steady him as you drive your hips down against his lips. You can feel the vibration of Bruce’s soft chuckle, chased by the tug of him drawing your clit between his lips. You pant softly as you drive into the sensation. You raise a hand from his hair, teasing your breasts and swiping over your tender nipples as Bruce laps hungrily at your folds. 

You press your heels down against the cool tile, thrusting your hips up against him. If he keeps it up, just like this, you could just—

You whimper, loosening your grip on Bruce's hair as he draws away. Before you can lower your hand between your legs to finish yourself off, Bruce catches hold of your wrist, using it to tug you up off of the floor. You let him maneuver you, straddling his lap. You can feel his hard cock nestle against your pussy, sending a wave of anticipation through you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, following his guiding touch as you sink down onto his cock. 

Your eyelids flutter beneath the bandana, your breath catching in your throat as you adjust to the feeling of him. You wind a hand into his hair again, brushing your lips along Bruce’s cheek, then lips as you’re able to find them. Bruce curls his arms around your waist, holding you still as he begins to thrust into you. Your kisses turn to open-mouthed brushes and exchanges of breath as he sets a punishing pace. You can’t help the moans and whines that fall from your lips, uncaring of how loud you’re being. 

Bruce seems to care, though. 

Your world floods with light as he tugs the bandana down from the back of your head, using the hold on it to tuck it between your lips. You bite down on it, whimpering brokenly as he keeps a tight hold on the fabric. You take in Bruce’s face—his darkened eyes, the flush that’s risen up in his cheeks, his pinked, kiss-plumped lips. You watch him dip his head to your neck, feel the way his loving kisses roughen, turning to nips and bites and sucks. His pace becomes more frantic, his thrusts harsher, almost aimless. 

You gasp sharply as he tips the two of you, cradling your head as he lowers you back down onto the floor. He plants his knees and grasps your shoulder, driving into you at a relentless pace. You slip a hand between your bodies, swiping over your tender clit until you’re tightening around him, your muffled shout dampened by the gag. Bruce’s hips pound against yours until they stutter and slow. You sag against the floor as you feel him spill into you. He bows over you, resting his forehead against your shoulder, then slowly drawing away, settling on  the floor beside you. 

You reach up, gently prying the gag from between your lips, swallowing dryly as you peer up at the ceiling, your heart still pounding in your chest. You feel Bruce turning to look at you, hear his contented sigh before he asks, 

“What was that about me slowing down?” 

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @wild-rose-35 ; @daisyslibrary ; @informally-liz ; @andrastesflamingtitties ; @muchacha-encabronada ; @nerdygirl0414; @elen-aranel ; @ohbee-whatcanyoube ; @kmc1989 ; @quietpainter ; @thedreadandthefugitivemind ; @kaletastrophes ; @nyx2021

[rhoorl]

Delta Landscaping |

Chapter 4: The Pool Party

Series Summary: In this AU, the boys of Delta Force start a new business post-Colombia. 

Series Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (18+) - This is here as a blanket rating 

Word Count: 8.8k

Chapter Summary: It’s pool party time. Once we get to the party we are going to be bouncing around to a lot of little scenes amongst various characters. Some stuff from the party hit the cutting room floor.

Chapter Warning: Allusions to cheating, co-dependent relationship. Some military/veteran talk. If something else should be added here please let me know! Also, I don’t have a beta for this, so any mistakes are all me.

A/N: At the beginning of this chapter, I provide some background on another one of the neighbors – the most in-depth I think I've gone since Lucille. I’m not trying to pass a moral judgment on this character one way or another, but I think it’s important to lay out some of her past.

Also, shoutout to @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain whose comment from Chapter 3 about Benny’s choice in swim trunks took me down a rabbit hole.  Another shoutout to @trulybetty for bouncing ideas about one of the storylines with me!

“So…that Santiago sure was giving you the fuck me eyes wasn’t he?” David chuckled as he, Ty, and Melissa made their way back to their respective houses after the watch party at Lucille’s.

“Yeah, Mel, the guy couldn’t take his eyes off you."

“Oh it's fine, just some harmless flirting,” she waved them off. “Doesn’t hurt that he’s also gorgeous and probably a really good kis-” she cut herself off as they side-eyed her.

“Ten cuidado con eso,” Ty cautioned her. “It's harmless flirting to you, but he may not see it that way…"

"Yea, girl…don't write checks your ass can't cash."

Melissa rolled her eyes as the trio stopped in front of David and Ty's house.

"Anyway," Ty cleared his throat. "With the party tomorrow, I guess we have to cancel our appointment with the event planner at the golf course. That's the third venue in a row we've canceled. You getting cold feet or somethin?”

“No, of course not,” she shook her head, nervously laughing. "We can always reschedule, right? Everyone seemed so excited to do it tomorrow so why wait…sorry for the short notice, I didn't leave you with enough time to come up with a theme.” She wanted to change the subject and change it fast. 

_______________

Melissa was no stranger to turning heads. She was one of the younger women who lived in Torrey Hills. She was fit, attractive, and had an infectious laugh and quickly bonded with David and Ty over RuPaul's Drag Race after they saw Melissa wearing an Alyssa Edwards shirt one day. The three alternated locations for their weekly watch parties, even going back and watching old seasons in between the new ones. 

They also bonded over wedding planning. David and Ty were some of the most sought-after wedding planners in the greater Tampa Bay area. And when Danny confided in them that he thought Melissa was overwhelmed with wedding planning, trying to do it all herself, they knew they had to step in and help…free of charge.

The idea of a wedding and impending marriage loomed over Melissa like a dark cloud. She loved Danny, they were high school sweethearts, but more and more she felt like her life was planned for her and not by her. For the last 12 years, all they knew was each other. They were each other's firsts and last in so many respects. First relationship. Last kiss. And when it came to sex, they had been each other's first and last in almost every respect. 

In high school, Danny was the star quarterback and Melissa was the head cheerleader, so of course they were bound to get together. When Danny suffered a torn ACL in the last game of his senior season, all hopes of a college scholarship were dashed. Devastated, he had to rethink his plans since the hopes of a prospective NFL career were no more. He reluctantly decided to follow in his father's footsteps and attend Embry-Riddle and start on the path toward being a commercial airline pilot. 

Melissa was a fantastic athlete in her own right and received a cheerleading scholarship to attend the University of Florida. Despite the distance, she and Danny wanted to make it work; everyone told them since they were high school sweethearts, and clearly soulmates, this was just the next logical step for their relationship.

They alternated making the two-hour drive on weekends to see each other. Although it was tough for Danny to attend the football games, wishing it was him on the field, he absolutely beamed seeing Melissa on the sidelines getting tossed in the air and leading the crowd in cheers.

When it came to her college experience, Melissa had a much different one than her sorority sisters. She didn't go out with the girls as much because she was either visiting Danny or he was there seeing her. It was hard for her to turn down social events. One of the reasons she decided to go to a big school like UF was to live the ultimate college experience. But, she loved Danny and the distance was hard, so she relished any opportunity to see him even if it meant they wouldn’t leave their rooms the whole time.

Fast forward a few years, and a couple of changes in majors, and Melissa graduated with a degree in health education with a minor in Spanish. After he graduated, Danny benefitted from the pilot shortage and quickly made the jump from a regional to a major airline. Moving in together after college was the next milestone on their trajectory – their families assumed marriage and babies wouldn’t be too far behind.

The next few years they moved wherever Danny's job took them, before ultimately landing in the Tampa Bay area. Danny knew he wanted to marry Melissa from the moment she agreed to go on a date with him. She was it for him. He proposed during a romantic beachside dinner in Clearwater Beach 10 years to the day he asked her out for the first time. He even organized it so their families were there as a surprise. Everyone was absolutely over the moon as the next milestone got checked off the list. 

Danny was all in on wedding planning, suggesting they attend a local wedding expo so they could start to meet with vendors. Melissa, on the other hand, was not as gung ho to get started. Most of her sorority sisters either were married already or in the midst of wedding planning, so she was no stranger to the machine that was the wedding industry.

Everyone had questions. Were they having an engagement party? Where were the bachelorette and bachelor parties going to be? Did they want a local wedding or a destination wedding? Were kids going to be invited? What colors for the bridesmaids' dresses?

Melissa's head was spinning with all of these decisions she needed to make. Everyone meant well, encouraging her to do whatever she wanted because it was her day, yet she came to the realization that this - a wedding, marriage, kids - wasn’t what she wanted. 

This epiphany tore her up inside and she hated herself for it. Danny was a good man and deserved to be with someone who worshiped him the way he worshiped her. But, at the same time, she didn’t know how to navigate life without him. He was her best friend and had been by her side through her highest highs and lowest lows.

She couldn't bring herself to call things off, she couldn’t bear to break Danny's heart. She rationalized her hesitation saying it was a phase or something she needed to work through. So, she tried to find some distraction to help put off wedding planning just a bit longer – and buying a house seemed like the perfect distraction. Their focus would be on stalking Zillow, going to open houses, and driving around looking at neighborhoods.

When they drove through Torrey Hills with their realtor, Melissa immediately fell in love with 305 Mulefall Court, a house newly on the market. She was awed by its spacious, inviting interiors and massive backyard. She could envision a life with Danny here. Things moved quickly from that point on from making an offer to closing, and before they knew it, the two of them were homeowners. 

Once they moved in, her focus immediately went to making her home perfect. She had a list of projects, which included lots of additions, including a pool, and Danny was receptive to it all. He hadn't seen her this focused and excited in a long time.

"Whatever makes you happy babe," he'd say whenever she came to him with an idea.

Every so often Danny would broach the subject of wedding planning and Melissa would find some convenient excuse as to why she couldn't focus on it. She was changing jobs, she didn't want to compete with another friend's wedding, or her sister-in-law was pregnant. She latched onto anything that could delay wedding planning more.

When construction started on their pool, the last of the big home improvement projects, Danny upped the pressure for a date. Melissa, David, and Ty went to see nearly every possible wedding venue in Tampa Bay, St. Petersburg, and Clearwater and even drove to Orlando to check out what a Disney wedding would entail. Making matters worse, their respective parents were also starting to run out of patience, blaming it on their desires to spoil their future grandchildren.

Melissa knew she was destined for a crossroads and she felt the walls closing in on her. She was turning 30 in a few months and had lost track of who she was. Danny was the only boyfriend she had ever had. He was the only sexual partner she'd ever had. And for the past 12 years, they navigated life together, their whole adulthood wrapped up in each other.

_______________

"Hey…Fish and I are at the store, what do you need us to pick up again?" Santiago stared at the wall of beers as Frankie checked out the whiskey selection.

"You know the beers we all like, but maybe add in some…uh…I don't know…hard seltzers or something." Will tried to be sly with that inclusion. The other day coming home from his run he noticed Katie had an Instacart delivery which included hard seltzers.

"Hard seltzers? The fuck?  You watching your figure?"

"Shut up. I’m just thinking we should bring…a variety. We don't know what everyone likes to drink."

"A variety…ok man. Lemme add some Sunny D and juice boxes while I'm at it." Santiago countered sarcastically.

"Fuck off, we'll see you and what I imagine is your obnoxious as-hell swimsuit soon." 

Will hung up the phone as he walked into the kitchen, shaking his head. Benny was at the kitchen table doodling in his notebook. 

"Are they on their way?" He asked without looking up, concentrating on his drawing.

"Yeah, they’re wrapping up at the store. What are you working on?"

"Oh, nothing…just had an idea I couldn't get out of my head," Benny looked up and gave a half smile. He heard his phone ding and saw it was Connor.

Connor: Guess what I did?

Benny: ?

Connor: I asked Aria if she and her parents were coming to the party.

Connor: I had Mom ask Ms. Melissa if that was cool, but turns out they were invited already lol

Benny: FUCK YEA

Benny: I mean hell yeah!

Benny: You excited?

Connor: Haha. Yea. And nervous.

Benny: I get it. I'll give ya a pep talk when you get there 😉

"What are you smiling at?"

"Oh, it's Connor," Benny waved his phone. "That girl he likes is coming to the party."

"He's a good kid. You're not trying to replace me are ya?"

Benny rolled his eyes and laughed. "Nah, man. Wherever you go, I go, you know that."

___________________

"Wait, I thought we were supposed to go look at a venue today. I leave tomorrow for a couple of weeks, Lis, what're we doing hosting a party?"

Danny was the planner. Meticulous and always wanting to have things in order. And, for the most part, Melissa was the same way. Except in recent months, he noticed she was getting more spontaneous, erratic even, randomly deciding to go off and do things with a moment's notice…including hosting the entire neighborhood at their house for a pool party.

"I know, but I was talking with D and we just don't think that place is our vibe, so like why waste everyone's time."

"Well, what is our vibe? Jesus Lis, you've seen like, what 20 places…you don't like any of them? Budget isn’t a hurdle, you know. I want you to have your dream wedding."

"I know, baby,” she walked to him, putting her arms around his waist. “I want it to be someplace special. I'll know it when I see it. I just haven't had that..feeling yet when I've gone places. But we're close, I know we are." She kissed Danny, trying to reassure him although she could practically see his patience wearing thin.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. "At this point, why don't we just go to the courthouse?"

"The what?" She pulled back to look up at him.

"Yea. It's just a piece of paper anyway. Then we can go on a trip or something…whatever you want - Lord knows I have miles for it. Take the pressure off of planning a big party," he rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

"You know both of our moms would not go for that. Heck, I'm my dad's only daughter so he will be heartbroken if he can't walk me down the aisle," she chuckled. "We'll figure it out, baby. Now, can you help and put the tables out back?"

___________

"Lulu, need help?" Megan opened the door to Lucille’s. She had Connor bring their wagon, knowing that Lucille was going to have several different platters to haul down the street.

"Sí, por favor!" She called from the kitchen. It was no surprise that she had made a ton of food, including a flan, another one of Connor’s favorites.

The three of them got everything loaded up and started walking toward Melissa and Danny’s house, stopping abruptly when they heard a loud whistle from behind them. Turning, they saw Benny giving them a big wave with his free hand as he hauled a case of beer on his other shoulder. 

He was decked out in what, on a normal person, would look like the most obnoxious pair of swim trunks, but somehow he made look cool. They hung low on his hips and were all black, with a retro flame design in various shades of orange, red, and yellow extending up from his knees towards his crotch. His shirt choice was much more understated, a red cut-off shirt paired with a white Houston Astros baseball cap which he wore backward, of course.

Will followed, donning a pair of mostly red swim trunks with alternating stripes of white and navy blue near the waistband, and a plain gray T-shirt. Behind him was Frankie who had on solid black swim shorts with a light gray, button-down short-sleeve shirt with what looked like a crane pattern on it. He left the top several buttons of his shirt unbuttoned exposing his tanned chest. His signature baseball cap was affixed to his head and his aviators were tucked into the pocket of his shirt.

Santiago trailed behind with the shortest trunks of the bunch, showing off several inches of thigh. They were navy blue with white and baby blue tie-dyed roosters scattered across them. He paired the shorts with a baby blue tank top. Not wanting to mess up his hair, he went sans hat but did have on his Oakley sunglasses.

All the men carried various cases of alcoholic beverages. Frankie knew they should have just driven it all over, but the other three insisted on walking. 

"Wait up!" Benny called after Megan, Connor, and Lucille. 

"Hey, where's the party?" David shouted from his porch across the street as Ty wheeled their wagon full of goodies down the driveway. "You boys actually planning on going into the water?" 

"Well…yea…I mean, it's a pool party right?" Benny was confused at the lack of swim attire and towels from David and Ty. 

"David never goes into the water, he prefers to sit on a lounger and get the chisme from Lucille. Those two know everything," Ty laughed.

David and Ty bickered about their pool party behavior as they all made the relatively short trek to Melissa and Danny's.

"So, Megan…is uh…Melissa's fiancé cool?" Santiago asked as they reached the driveway.

"Oh, Danny? Yeah, he's a sweetheart, really nice guy."

"Awesome…great," Santiago said flatly, trying to avoid the confused look he could feel Frankie giving him.

"Party's here!!" David announced as the crew made their way into the backyard.

The backyard was almost as big as Will and Benny’s. It was a little sparse, with just a few palm trees, but it had lush green grass and a large sparkling pool. The lanai was expansive with a full outdoor kitchen and a table that could easily seat eight comfortably. Loungers and chairs were scattered throughout for seating.

Danny was just finishing setting up the last of the foldout tables as Melissa walked outside with a plastic tablecloth to cover it.

"Oh hey! Welcome!" She gave a dazzling smile to everyone, pleased that the four new additions to the neighborhood all came with their swim trunks on.

She had a black, sheer cover-up on over her blue and white tie-dyed bikini, a more revealing swimsuit than her usual pool party attire.

“Ok hot momma, I see you!” David whistled as he saw her, bringing her in for a big bear hug.

When David finally put her down, her eyes immediately connected with Santiago, who tilted his head down to peer from over his sunglasses. He didn’t hide the up and down he gave Melissa, leaving her a bit flustered at the attention. She walked over to Lucille who was helping Connor and Frankie unload the contents of her wagon onto one of the tables.

"Lulu, esto es demasiado…you didn't have to make all of this!"

"¡Ay, basta! You know I can't help myself when there’s a party," she winked. 

"Oh babe, here meet the guys," Melissa called Danny over. "This is Will and Benny, they moved into 319. And these are their friends Frankie and Santiago."

"Hey guys, nice to meet you," he shook all of their hands. "You guys are fixing that house up really nicely, it looks awesome."

"Well, it couldn't look any worse," Will joked.

Once they started talking, Danny and Frankie immediately hit it off once they realized their aviation connection.

"Do…do you need help with anything?" Santiago asked Melissa as Frankie and Danny started to nerd out about engines on their walk over to the grill.

"Uh…yeah. Actually, I have a cooler I need to bring around from the garage."

"Lead the way," he opened his arms for her to pass, trying to discreetly check her out as she walked by him. 

Frankie quickly side-eyed where his best friend was going, trying to not make it too apparent as Danny continued on his rant about the impending pilot strike.

Melissa could practically feel Santiago’s eyes on her as she walked toward the front of her house. She put a little extra sway in her hips, not hating the attention but knowing she was playing with fire.

Danny loved Melissa and tried to show her as often as he could, but his work schedule had definitely put a damper on their sex life. Gone were the days of ripping each other's clothes off at a moment's notice and having passionate sex everywhere and anywhere they could. With Danny away for work as often as he was, they'd had more phone sex than actual sex over the last couple of months and she was going a little stir-crazy. A handsome stranger certainly didn't help things either.

"Here it is, think you can handle it?" She turned to face Santiago. She resolved that she wouldn’t do anything other than flirt with him. 

"Oh, I think I'd be able to manage just fine." He winked.

For his part, Santiago was conflicted too. He was never one to shy away from a beautiful woman flirting with him, but he drew the line if they were taken. He had been there, done that, and didn’t want to go down that painful road again. But he also couldn’t deny that there was something there when he looked at Melissa. 

He didn’t want to say anything to the guys, especially Frankie, because he knew what their reactions would be. They’d tell him that he was just attracted to her because she was the young, hot thing on the block and remind him that she was very much unavailable. 

"That's uh…a nice suit you have there," he nodded towards her. "Looks like we both like tie-dye," he chuckled.

The two stayed with their eyes locked on each other, trying to read the other’s face for what felt like minutes before they heard someone clear their throat.

"Oh hey, sorry we're late!" 

They turned to see Olivia, with Diana on one hip and a baby bag slung on the other shoulder. Her husband, Chris, and their sons CJ and Max were right behind followed by Katie who was helping the family with their bags.

"It feels like we have to pack the whole house even when we just come down the street," Olivia laughed, oblivious to the awkward tension between Santiago and Melissa.

"Aw don't even worry, everyone just got here! Come, they're out back!" Melissa waved toward the backyard.

Santiago introduced himself to Chris, who helped him bring the cooler along with a couple more fold-out chairs to the back.

Frankie spotted Santiago as he came back with a man carrying a cooler and some more chairs. Seeing Olivia and her kids, he figured it was her husband. He also clocked how Santiago's eyes lingered on Melissa, who was walking in front of him.

"Hey babe, where are the burgers?" Danny yelled out to Melissa.

"They're inside, here I'll help you."

"I'll be right back," he told Frankie.

As Danny and Melissa headed inside, Santiago stopped to get a beer before walking over towards Frankie. He could feel the side eye Frankie was giving him.

"Don't."

Frankie lifted his hands up in protest. "I haven't even said anything."

"Yeah, but you're giving me that look."

"She's engaged, hermano. Besides, isn't she a little young, even for you? Ow-" 

Santiago slapped Frankie in his chest. "I'm not that much older. And besides, I'm just…flirting with her. Nothing else."

"Ha, yea ok, Pope," Frankie took a swig of his beer, shaking his head.

Frankie knew his friend had a knack for fixating on the most unavailable women. He never understood why Santiago did this, he was arguably the biggest flirt of the bunch and a good-looking guy, so he could, and did, get any woman he wanted. But yet, it was as if he thrived on the drama, on the secrecy of it all.

“Don’t act all high and mighty, you were right there with me too.” Santiago snapped back.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t the one who caught feelings…that was you, remember?”

Santiago rolled his eyes and walked over to Lucille, who was arranging a plate of food for herself.

____________

After more neighbors trickled in, the party really started getting going. David and Ty were in charge of the playlist, rolling their eyes whenever Olivia glared at them for playing a song that wasn't child-appropriate.

"There's literally a summer barbecue playlist on Spotify, just pick that one!" She went over to them in a huff.

"Ok, momma bear. No more Cardi B noted!" David teased.

"Boys no running!" Olivia called after her sons as she dipped a carrot in some ranch.

"Are they twins?" 

She heard a low voice, turning to see it was Frankie next to her.

"Yes, unfortunately," she sighed and then smiled. "They're great, just a lot of fucking energy."

"Ha, I can see that. And how old are you?" He bent down smiling at Diana, who was still attached to her mom's hip. 

"Oh, this is Diana, she's nine months, 10 months in two weeks!"

"Well, she's beautiful," he rubbed the little girl's cheek with his thumb, which elicited a small smile, barely visible from behind her pacifier. Her eyes were fixated on Frankie.

"Ooo she likes you, she doesn't smile for just anyone." 

Frankie smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Do you have any kids?"

"Ah, n-no. My sister has two, so uncle mode is where I'm at these days," he chuckled.

“Ah, well maybe someday…”

“Maybe…I’m getting a little old…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “But, I like kids, so I dunno, we’ll see.”

“I mean, I can give you one of mine if you want,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood after she unintentionally struck a nerve.

_________________________

"Havin' fun?" Benny walked up to Megan, as she loitered around the coolers, observing her son who was pacing near the back of the yard by some bushes.

"Huh, oh yeah," she looked over at Benny, giving him a smile. "Hey, do you know what's bothering him? He's seemed on edge since we got here."

"Uh…yea…at least I think so. I think he's waiting for a girl to show up."

"Aw, is it Aria?" She looked over to Benny who nodded. "Ah, I knew it! I swear that boy has had a crush on her since middle school…has he…told you anything? Does he like her?"

"Yeah he likes her, he's just too scared to ask her out."

"My sweet baby, of course, he is…did he…talk to you about it? I've tried but I'm mom you know…"

"He mentioned it, I just listened. Tried to give some advice. I was a teenage boy at one point, ya know," he chuckled.

"Well, you have one on me there. I can't believe I'm at this stage now, where he likes girls," she shook her head.

"Want me to go talk with him? I told him I'd give him a pep talk if he wanted."

Megan's heart was about to burst at how sweet Benny was being toward her son. She felt a pang in her chest that Jacob wasn't here to see how much their son had grown up.

"I'd like that," she smiled.

Benny squeezed her shoulder, before bending down to the cooler to grab a soda and a beer and head toward Connor.

"Where's your girl?" He asked as he offered the boy the can and cracked open his beer.

"She's not my girl…and I don't know…" He tried but couldn't cover his disappointment, wondering why she hadn't shown up yet.

Benny put his arm around his shoulder, "She'll show up, the party just started man. Maybe she wants to make an entrance,” he winked. “ C'mon, let’s go kick Will’s ass in cornhole," he smirked.

Megan wiped away a tear as she observed her son and Benny, thankful for the little family she had created and fostered in this neighborhood.

______________

"Ooo hard seltzers, yes!" Katie pumped her fist as she opened the cooler to see her drink of choice nestled right on top.

"Which flavor’s your favorite?" Will appeared behind her with a smirk, pleased with himself that his plan to surprise Katie with her favorite beverage worked.

"Oh, hey…um, black cherry," she held the can up to show him. "Ty hates that flavor so we usually end up doing a swap whenever one of us buys a case since I'm not a huge fan of the grapefruit one. It works out for both of us," she chuckled. "You, ah, gonna go swim?" She motioned over to the pool, whose only inhabitants so far were Olivia’s twins and her husband. As Will turned to look, Katie gave him a quick up and down, trying not to salivate at the thought of him shirtless.

“Yeah, it’s so hot out, I’ll probably go in. How about you? Did you bring your suit?” He was thankful his sunglasses were able to hide his eyes as he checked her out.

“Sure did!” She lifted up her tank top just enough to show off her one-piece, which had cutouts along her hips.

The glimpse of her suit, and bare skin, caused Will to choke a bit on his beer. “N-nice, well, we’ll have to get in soon.” He smiled, annoyed at himself for being so awkward. 

Katie was amused that a guy who looked like a male model would be nervous talking to a woman, and with her no less. It definitely was a bit of an ego boost and gave her the courage to continue the conversation to try and learn a little bit about Will. After all, the only thing she really knew was that he was a hot, seemingly nice guy with equally attractive friends.

"So, tell me about yourself, Will."

"Well, what d'you wanna know?" He asked as he leaned onto a table, getting a little bit closer.

“So, you casually build fences with your friends and know how to do a bunch of other house stuff. You work in construction or something?"

“Ha, well, when it comes to the house stuff, Benny and I would be kicked out of the family if we weren't handy," he laughed. "Our grandfather was a contractor…had his own business. When he passed, our uncle took over since he and his family already lived in Austin. When I was in high school, I spent my summers there working for him, with my cousins. When Benny was old enough he came too."

"Ooo a family business, then?"

"Yeah, my cousin actually took it over a couple of years ago. He's been helping me with questions I've had for the house, so I can't claim to have done it all myself," he smirked.

"Well, you're still the one who did the work. It looks great…so, what do you do? When you're not calling your cousin for construction advice?"

"Ha. Well, I used to be in the military. Actually me and the guys. It was like…damn, almost 20 years…felt like a lifetime,” a quick wave of sadness flashed across his face. His mind was flooded with memories of all of the horrific things he had seen and done over the years, the most recent memory being the death of their leader Tom. “But…we all got out and retired. We…uh…saved well and have taken some time to just live as civilians,” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“So, were you guys some like badass G.I. Joe’s?”

“Ha, something like that,” he tried to play it off. “We were part of a special unit called Delta Force.”

“What kind of stuff do you do as part of this special unit…if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s not that I don’t mind, it’s just I can’t really tell you a lot … it’s … uh …classified,” he scratched his head, bringing one arm to rest on the back of his neck. “We traveled all over, did a bunch of different things...”

Will and the boys had long since agreed that they would never talk about any of the details around their missions to anyone…especially Colombia. Tom’s wife and daughters didn’t even know the true reason why he was in South America. He knew Katie meant well and was just trying to make conversation, but this was a prime example of why he didn’t like talking about himself.

Katie sensed his unease, chastising herself that she made him uncomfortable. She should have known better than to start asking a bunch of questions without knowing him. Her own brothers never really wanted to talk about their time in the service. She hoped she didn't just trigger some bad memories for him.

“So uh, what do you do now then?”

“I try to do stuff for veterans. There's some speaking engagements I do from time to time, but I mostly volunteer at the VA. We have this uh…service, where we basically are like their Uber to doctor’s appointments. But I don’t just do that, I’ll drive them wherever they need to go, even if it's to the CVS to get some M&Ms,” he chuckled.

“That’s nice, I bet you meet some interesting people,” she gave an encouraging smile.

“Yea. I mean, some of them don’t really like to talk much, which is fine. But for those who do, I’m there to listen. A lot of times they don’t have anyone who can relate to them as veterans or gives a shit or wants to hear what they have to say, especially the older ones. So I am just an unbiased ear for them…I’ve met some cool people. Some of the old timers have some crazy stories.”

Katie was a bit thrown off by this thoughtful and considerate side to Will, it was so unexpected. He seemed like this quiet, hard ass, but there was a depth to him that piqued her curiosity.

“So, you’re patient and a good listener, quite the winning combo,” she teased, moving to sit against the edge of the table inches from Will.

“I’ve been told I listen and follow directions quite well,” his eyebrow twitched as he looked her up and down, now a bit more obviously, before clearing his throat. “So, now it’s my turn to uh…listen. Tell me about you.”

“Me? Oh, it’s not a very interesting story.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” He moved even closer as both of them sat perched at the edge of the table, their arms slightly touching.

“Well, let's see…I'm originally from Chicago. I moved here a few months ago. I work from home which has been pretty sweet. I get to rock sweatpants most days,” she laughed.

“What made you move to Florida?”

Katie hesitated but ultimately gave her rote answer whenever anyone asked what brought her down to Florida from the Midwest. “Well…I…I moved down here for the weather, couldn’t take another blizzard, ya know” She kept her gaze forward as she took another swig from her drink.

"You move down here alone?"

"Uh, yeah."

"For the weather?" He furrowed his brows, knowing there was more to the story.

Katie turned her face slightly to face Will, trying to put on a poker face.

"The weather was a reason."

"But not the only one?"

"Were you an interrogator in this military unit?" She countered.

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to pry…" He shook his head, annoyed at himself for pushing.

"It's ok. I don't like to just dump my whole life story on someone. The weather thing’s usually enough…most people who ask that question don't really care, it's just for conversation."

"Well, I'm not most people."

Katie gulped down another sip of her drink, the can almost empty. 

"I'm divorced." She blurted out.

Will continued looking at her, waiting for her to elaborate, but it seemed she was waiting to gauge his reaction.

"Oh okay."

"That's it?" She furrowed her brows.

"Whaddya mean?"

"You don't want the sad backstory with all the gory details?" 

"Not if you don't feel comfortable sharing it."

They sat in silence for a little bit. Will didn't mind awkward silences, hell there were some veterans he drove who had only spoken five words to him in months. But Katie, on the other hand, was not the same. She always felt the need to ramble and fill any silence.

"My husband…ex-husband…he left me. Just up and left one day.” Her nose wrinkled.

"That's shitty, I'm sorry."

"Yea…It was for his ex,” she huffed. “I shoulda known, honestly. He was never really over her. She was always kind of like a dark cloud over our relationship…'The one that got away,'” she made air quotes. “Honestly, from her perspective, it was probably the most romantic shit…the love of her life coming to his senses and getting her back. Problem is nobody ever sees it from the other side of the story.” She emptied the can and reached into the cooler for another one.

Will stayed silent, unsure how to react – he wanted to give her the space to share whatever she felt comfortable sharing.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to unload that all on you,” she shook her head, bringing her hand to her forehead.

“Hey, hey…it’s ok,” Will put his hand on her back, lightly rubbing circles with his thumb. “I’m a good listener, remember?” He winked.

The corners of Katie’s mouth curled up. Will was a good listener. Megan was the only person who knew the details of her divorce, all of the red flags ignored, and the scars left behind.

“Well, thank you. And to answer your question from earlier, no the weather wasn’t the only reason. He kept the house, which is a joke if you ask me, I was the one who actually gave a shit about that house…” she took a swig of her beer.

“How so?”

“Our house was my little project, I had a Pinterest board for pretty much every room and every occasion,” she laughed. “And Seb, my ex, he thought I was being too much, too extra about it. But it was a lot of fun for me, the creative stuff you know.” She looked over at Will who nodded. 

“Is that what you’re trying to do with your house now?”

“Ha yea…”

“I was serious when I said I, er, we would be happy to help you … not saying you can’t do it yourself or anything. Just let me know. I can come over sometime to see what you have in mind, you can show me a Pinterest board or two,” he bumped his arm against hers, which elicited a small smile from Katie. “That way I can tell you if it’s somethin’ we could take care of. May be able to help you save some money too so you don’t have to hire someone,” he chuckled.

“Really? Yeah, that would be awesome. So…Mondays tend to be a little lighter for me, so would you want to come tomorrow? Is that too soon? You're probably doing your VA stuf-”

“Sure!” he interrupted. “I mean, yeah, tomorrow’s great. What time?”

“Really? Uh…I usually take lunch around noon…would that work?”

“Yea. I…uh…I can bring over lunch. If you want.”

“Hold on a second. You’re coming over to help me and you’re bringing food? I feel like that’s too good to be true,” she winked.

“Well, let’s see what kind of uh, projects you have in mind first,” he laughed. "Here, gimme your number so I can give you a heads up when I'm on my way," he handed her his phone.

Katie smiled to herself and she typed in her number.

"Nice, here let me text you so you have my number…it's a…plan, it's a plan," he smiled.

“Hey! I was looking for you,” Benny bounded over with Connor on his tail. “Hey, Katie! I was going to ask Will if he wanted to take Connor and me on in some cornhole, but do you want to join too? It’s probably more fair for it to be two on two anyway,” he chuckled.

“You mean bags? Uh…sure, let’s do it. Sorry in advance Will, you may have been better off alone,” she laughed as she walked towards the cornhole set.

“I doubt that…” Will whispered to himself.

_____________________

"Oye jefa," David squeezed Lucille's shoulder as he sat down and brought her a rum and Coke. "Extra limes, just how you like it."

"Thanks, mijito. Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, although I will be having even more when the boys decide to go into the pool," he winked as Lucille rolled her eyes and laughed at him. "So, have any good chisme for me?"

"I saw Ethan at Publix earlier today and he told me that another house is going up for sale on the block."

"Ooo, which one?" David scooted his chair closer. He didn't know how she did it, but Lucille always had the best gossip on the block. 

"Melissa's neighbors, 306."

"Oh, aren't those the snowbirds?"

"Yes, apparently their son and his wife are having triplets, can you believe that? So they are going to stay up in New York to help with all of the babies."

"Woof, three babies?" David shuddered. "Ugh, I hope that we don't have some rental company come in and scoop up that house."

"I said the same thing to Ethan. He figured someone would want to scoop up that house pretty fast once it goes on the market, not like Benny and Will's house," she laughed. 

"D'you think he'll give you a heads up on who the buyers may end up being…when we get to that point?"

"Oh yes, as long as I make him some empanadas I think we can find out whatever," she giggled.

"Speaking of, I need another one. Quieres algo?" 

"No, mijito, I'm good."

________________

"Ari!" CJ and Max said in unison, jumping out of the pool and running over to give Aria a hug once she, her little, sister, and parents made their way into the backyard.

"Boys! I said no running! Also, give Ari some space ok? She's here to have fun, not watch you two," Olivia winked.

She hired Aria last summer to help her watch the boys once she got too pregnant to do much of anything. The boys loved her and she had been a big help over the last year as Olivia transitioned to life with three kids.

Benny and Connor had their backs to the party, so they didn't see Aria and her family walk in. But once he heard the commotion of the twins, Connor tensed up.

"Showtime, bud!" Benny slapped the back of his shoulder. "Hey, Katie, Will, I think Connor and I are gonna take you both out of your misery. Let's get some refills on drinks?"

As they turned around, Connor saw Aria taking off her coverup. The twins were begging her to get in the pool to play with them. 

"C'mon, Ari let's play sharks and minnows!" CJ jumped up and down.

"Yea, c'mon let's gooooo," Max whined.

"I'm coming, gimme a sec. Do you two have sunscreen on?"

"We don't need sunscreen, a kid at school said we have more melly men so we don't need it," CJ said confidently.

"It's melanin, and that's not true. We need to wear sunscreen too, c'mere." She grabbed the spray bottle of sunscreen from her bag and doused the boys and her little sister with it before using it on herself.

She spotted Connor and gave him a nervous wave. She recognized the guy with him in the hat, he was the same guy who complimented her dog. The two were making their way across the yard toward the pool.

"Hi Mr. and Mrs. Davis," Connor smiled and waved at Aria's parents. "Have you all met Benny, he lives in 319?"

"Oh, so you're the one making that house look beautiful," Mrs. Davis winked.

"Yes ma'am, well it's my brother Will and I. We moved in not too long ago."

Benny stayed talking to Mr. and Mrs. Davis as Connor made his way to the pool, which brought a little smirk to Benny's face.

"Hey, Aria!"

"Hey, Connor!" She went in for a sideways hug, which caught Connor off guard. He could feel his face getting hot and his mouth went dry.

"Connor, are you going to play with us?" One of the twins said, he honestly wasn't sure which one because his brain was short-circuiting.

"Yea, wanna play? I'm going to need help trying to chase these two," Aria giggled.

Connor couldn't find words, but as if he telepathically knew, Benny was there to save him.

"What're we playing?" He said with the biggest smile on his face, wrapping his arm around Connor.

"Mr. Benny, d'you wanna play sharks and minnows with us?" Max asked, tugging on Benny's shirt.

"Hmmm…let me think about that," he bent down to get on Max and CJ's level. "We gotta set some ground rules if I'm gonna play, ok?" The boys eagerly nodded. "Ok cool. So I'm gonna be a shark and you two are minnows. Aria, you're a shark. Connor you're a minnow. And see that guy over there in the red shorts?" He pointed towards Will whose head was thrown back in laughter as he talked with Katie and Megan. "We're gonna all need to work together to get him, ok? He's a special kind of shark."

The twins were already halfway to the pool before Benny could finish. 

"Will, c'mon we gotta catch some minnows, and I'm not talking about you Fish!" Benny laughed as he took off his shirt, flip-flops, and hat, and threw them down on a lounger.

He saw Connor hesitate, knowing the boy was self-conscious to take his shirt off. It didn't help he was standing next to all six foot three of Benny who had a toned stomach and a defined upper body. 

"C'mon kid, she's into you, I can tell." 

Once Connor got his shirt off, Benny lifted him up and threw him in the pool. He followed by doing a cannonball, which made all of the kids laugh. 

By this point, the rest of the party was focused on the pool. Will and Katie headed over, getting down to their swimsuits and getting in. Will was immediately tackled by CJ and Max.

"Hey! What'd I do?" He laughed as he hoisted each of the boys out of the water to throw them, which elicited lots of laughs from both.

"Mr. Benny said you're a special kind of shark, so we had to work together to get you!" Max panted as he caught his breath from all of the excitement.

"Did he now? Well, did you know he and I are brothers? So if I'm a special kind of shark, that means Mr. Benny over there is one too!" Will winked over at Katie who was smiling at the interaction.

"Hey, Mr. Benny! You didn't tell us you guys were brothers!"

"Yeah, that means you're a special kind of shark too!"

"Oop, you caught me!" Benny flashed another brilliant smile as he started swimming away.

"We're chasing Benny? Sign me up!" Santiago jumped in and tackled Benny, followed closely by Frankie.

The four men ended up chasing after the boys, although Will spent most of the time near Katie, pretending to try and catch her a few times too.

"Got ya!" Connor had been play chasing after Aria and finally caught her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. They both froze, Aria turning her head toward Connor and they both smiled.

Splash

One of the twins splashed the pair as they were frantically trying to get away from Benny and Will who were in wild pursuit. 

_________________

"Again, can we just acknowledge the fact that we are seeing this all for free?" David laughed as he, Ty, Lucille, and Melissa watched the antics of the poolgoers from a table.

“Are you losing your mind now that Frankie’s hat fell off?” Ty teased.

With all of the splashing and playfighting, both Benny and Frankie had lost their hats. Frankie’s curls stuck to his neck as Benny’s bangs kept getting into his eyes. 

“Baby, that’s not the only thing making me lose my mind!”

“Ay, dios mio!” Lucille shook her head laughing at them.

“Oh come on, Lulu, you can’t tell me you’re not enjoying the view too, right?” Melissa asked as she kept her eyes on the pool. Santiago was in the midst of hoisting one of the twins up and throwing him - his biceps flexing and the water dripping down his chest as he jumped out of the water.

“It’s definitely not the worst way to spend an afternoon,” she winked, giving a sly smile.

“Katie seems to be having fun with Will, right Meg?” Ty asked.

“Yeah…best believe I am getting all of those details later,” Megan replied, noting how close Will had stayed to Katie the whole time, the two were now laughing in a corner, talking as the rest of the guys splashed with the kids.

"Ok everyone, food's ready!" Danny called out.

______________________

Megan smiled as she saw Connor and Aria sitting together on a lounger wrapped up in towels, laughing and talking.

Benny came up and handed her a beer.

"So, that's your doing?"

"Nah, that's all him. I just gave him a push, well, I guess it was more of a toss," he winked.

"He really liked hanging out with you guys yesterday, by the way. Couldn't stop talking about it," she chuckled as she took a swig of her beer. "He mentioned something about you both working out together?"

"Y-yea, we talked about it yesterday while driving. Would you be cool with that? I think it may help his confidence a little."

"I think that would be really nice Benny, thank you. But don't let him take up too much of your time, I'm sure you have a girlfriend or something, right?"

"Ah, no. I'm not dating right now," he moved his bangs out of his eyes, realizing he needed to go find his hat.

"I may have some friends if you’re interested," she laughed.

"Ha, no, I appreciate it. I'm uh…taking some time for me. I'm not really looking for anything right now."

"You know, I feel I wanna make some type of liar liar pants of fire kinda joke," she motioned to his swim trunks. "But that feels too on the nose," she laughed.

"Hey! I like these trunks, I usually get a lot of compliments about them," he smiled. 

__________

The party continued well into the early part of the evening. After the raucous game of sharks and minnows followed by a big meal, the twins were starting to lose steam, so Olivia and her family left. 

Aria and her family were next to leave, she went over and gave Connor a hug goodbye. He watched her walk away before turning back to see Benny smirking at him. 

Connor walked over to Benny and the older man gave him a side hug and messed with his hair.

"Proud of you, bud."

"Ha, thanks. I had a good time. I think we might hang out soon."

"Hell yeah!" He gave the boy a high five.

"Well, I guess we're going to head out," Lucille said as the rest of the neighbors got their things together. "Thank you so much for hosting us all mija it was beautiful as always over here."

"Thank you, Lulu," Melissa gave the woman a kiss on the cheek. 

Melissa and Danny gave hugs and handshakes to everyone. When it was her turn to say goodbye to Santiago they both hesitated on whether to go in for a hug or a handshake, but he committed and went for the hug. Whereas normally he would reach for the waist, resting his hand on the upper part of a woman's ass, he decided to hug her around her shoulders. For her part, Melissa put her hands on Santiago's midback, feeling the cords of his muscles tense.

"Have a good night," he said softly as she smiled at him 

Frankie gave Lucille his arm to make the walk back to her house as Santiago wheeled the wagon. David and Ty chatted with Megan, Connor, and Benny, as Will and Katie lagged behind.

David and Ty said their goodbyes, followed by Connor and Megan. Lucille asked if Frankie and Santiago could help unload her wagon. Knowing that it probably meant they would get leftovers to take home, the two men eagerly agreed. That left Benny, Will, and Katie. 

Benny looked at his brother, knowing very well that he was trying to put the moves on Katie.

"Ah, shoot!" he smacked himself in the forehead. "I forgot, Tommy called me earlier, let me go call him back, see ya Katie!" He gave his brother a wink over Katie's shoulder as he hugged her goodbye.

"So…and then there were two, huh?' Katie laughed.

"Ha, yeah. I'm…uh, looking forward to lunch tomorrow," he smiled. "Hey, speaking of, what do you want me to pick up?"

"Oh, I'm not picky. Surprise me. Whatever's your favorite. Just as long as there's no pickles."

"Got it, extra pickles," he winked as they both let out a nervous laugh. "Just kidding, I just so happen to love pickles, so if you ever get them I'll gladly take them off your plate."

"Well, aren't you my hero!" She teased.

"Here, let me walk you home."

"Will, it's like three doors down," she smirked.

"I know, but it's late and I just want to know you made it safe."

"Ok, Boy Scout let's go."

The trip to Katie's house was short, but Will didn't mind. 

"Well, this is me. I had fun today."

"Yeah, I did too," he smiled, keeping her gaze for a beat before she reached into her bag for her keys.

"I'll ah see you tomorrow, then?"

"Yea."

They both looked at each other for another moment before Katie went in for a hug, which Will reciprocated.

"Good night, Will."

"Good night, Katie. See you tomorrow."

She closed the door and Will turned on his heel to head back home. He didn't realize that a smile hadn't left his face the whole walk back.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: I know this was a longer chapter, so thank you if you made it this far! Our little soap opera continues to unfold. 

What didn't make the cut? I had an additional scene with Santiago and Melissa along with one with Danny and Frankie, but decided we could cover what happened in conversations later on.

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list moving forward!! Apologies if I accidentally left you off, I added it all manually and may have missed someone … just let me know!

@goodwithcheese / @gemmahale / @trulybetty / @patti7dc / @periodtsparadox / @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin / @maggiemayhemnj / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @avastrasposts / @meveispunk / @chaoticfestninja / @beholdbebravethings / @casa-boiardi / @katw474 / @linzels-blog / @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain / @primosworld / @lynnchun / @anoverwhelmingdin /@lilmizmoz / @pedrit0-pascalit0 / @titlee78 / @noisynightmarepoetry / @inept-the-magnificent / @perennialdoll247 / @for-a-longlongtime / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @harriedandharrassed / @musings-of-a-rose / @anavatazes / @sherala007 / @midnightraain

[daisynik7]

Primetime

Part 3 of Dirty Thirty

🎶 Baby it's a prime time for our love, ain't nobody peekin' but the stars above. It's a prime time for our love, and heaven is betting on us. 🎶

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: Switching POVs (Kishibe third-person, reader second-person), vaginal sex (cowgirl, doggy, missionary), nipple play, spit play, cunnilingus, spanking, breeding kink, daddy kink, lots of fluff, pet names (princess, baby)

Word Count: ~6.5k

Summary: You and Kishibe are officially a couple. These are the little moments that all lead up to the big one.    

Notes: I did it. I wrote a Part 3; I hope you all like it! Title inspired by the song “Primetime” by Janelle Monae ft. Miguel, definitely recommend listening to this to set the mood right! Please read the first two parts, linked below! Likes, reblogs, and comments are all super appreciated, would love to hear what you all think!

Part 1 - Dirty Thirty | Part 2 - After Last Night | ao3

Kishibe doesn’t know how to be a good boyfriend. 

It’s been almost a month since he and his girlfriend started dating. This morning, he displays a photo booth picture at his cubicle. She convinced him to do it while they were at the beach boardwalk this past weekend, and of course, he couldn’t refuse her. He never can, despite being opposed to corny shit like that. But even he can admit that the photos turned out decent. 

Nobody is at their desk unless they’re filling out paperwork, so he doesn’t think anyone will notice. However Himeno, one of his current protégés, is keen, observant, and a goddamn nosey pest. 

“Master, is this your girlfriend?” She points at the photo strip, a hint of excitement bubbling behind her typically calm demeanor.

Not wanting this to be a bigger deal than it needs to be, he casually answers, “Yes.”

“I see.” There’s a clever smirk on her face, as if she’s plotting something cheeky to say. He’s surprised when instead, she comments, “That is a very nice picture.”

He grumbles in response, not used to small talk involving his personal life. 

“How long have you been dating?”

“Almost a month.” He pretends to be preoccupied with organizing all his forms, avoiding eye contact, wishing for this conversation to end. 

“What are you doing for your anniversary?”

This gets his attention. “Huh?”

“Your one-month anniversary. What are your plans to celebrate?”

Finally, he meets her gaze, setting aside his stack of papers. “People celebrate that?”

“Well, couples do, yes.”

He stares at her, unsure how to react. It’s been decades since his last relationship, probably during grade school if he’s remembering correctly. Obviously, the standards have changed since then, but to celebrate a month of dating? It seems trivial to him. Then again, he hasn’t had a serious girlfriend as an adult. It’s going extremely well between them, and he doesn’t want to mess this up, especially only after a few weeks into it. 

Too proud to ask his junior for advice, he takes his lunch break to eat a bowl of ramen while scrolling through his phone, searching every article he can find on how to celebrate anniversaries. He finds a few ideas that he can get on board with, and some he completely tosses out the window because of how fucking ridiculous they are. 

By Friday night, the actual day of their anniversary, he has a plan. A little before 6:00 PM, he buzzes her in and waits for the familiar knock on the door. When he opens it, she greets him with a warm smile. “Kishibe.”

She wears a modest dress, having just come from the office. Overnight bag in hand, ready to spend another weekend here at his apartment. Once inside, she drops her belongings and wraps her arms around him. “Hi.”

He returns her embrace, inhaling the pleasant scent he yearns for on the days they’re not together. “How are you?”

“Tired. I’m ready for a nice, relaxing weekend with my boyfriend.” Every time she calls him that, his chest swells with an odd sensation. He hasn’t gotten used to it yet, but it’s not unwanted. In fact, he quite likes it.

As she removes her shoes by the door, he sneaks into the kitchen to retrieve the bouquet he purchased earlier from a local florist. Thirty red roses, one for each day they’ve been a couple. He read online that this is considered romantic. 

He walks towards her with the bouquet in his grasp, her eyes and smile widening at the scene before her. “What’s this?”

“Happy one-month anniversary.” He thrusts the roses forward, hoping she takes it. She continues to stare at him with a big grin on her face.

“What?” He’s blushing now, nervous that this is all wrong. “Say something.”

She grabs the flowers, lifting them towards her nose to sniff. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He clears his throat. “We also have reservations at your favorite restaurant in an hour.” 

At this, she lets out a small squeal. “Really? You didn’t have to do any of this,” she says, face still buried in the flowers, clearly enjoying this.

“I wanted to.” 

She sets the roses down on the counter, stepping towards him to tug playfully on his tie. “You really are the sweetest. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything. I’m such a terrible girlfriend.” 

“The worst,” he smirks, sliding his hands around her waist. 

“Can I make it up to you?” She kisses him, slow and passionate, using his tie to pull him deeper. “Show you how sorry I am?”

He plays along, knowing exactly where this is leading. “You better be sorry. I’m pretty upset.”

“I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me, then.” 

“We’ll see.” They walk to the couch in tandem, gazing into each other’s lust filled eyes.

When he’s sat, she straddles him. “Do you remember the night we first met? We were right here on this couch.”

“How can I forget?” He roams up and down her back, the fabric of her dress silky on his calloused fingers.

“Well, my memory is a little hazy. Remind me.” She guides his hands to her chest, kneading her breasts.

“You’re being very naughty right now,” he mutters in his low voice. “First, no gift. Now this. Seems like you want to be punished.”

“Yeah, I do. I need to be punished. I’m a very bad girlfriend.” She peers at him with a desperate expression, eyes gleaming with desire. He can’t help but falter under her gaze.

“Fuck, you’re asking for it.” He lifts the hem of her dress over her ass, feeling for her panties. Sliding his fingers beneath the lace, bunching it in his fist it to bury between her ass cheeks, exposing her beautiful bottom. Perfectly bare for a good spanking. She sucks in a breath, anticipating it, aching for it. He presses a gentle kiss to her ear before delivering a loud smack, focused on the jiggle of her supple flesh upon contact. 

“Fuck, baby. Do it again,” she demands, grinding on his lap.

He repeats, this time on the opposite side, massaging the tender skin after. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She presses her forehead to his. “You never do. Don’t worry.”

They kiss as they strip their remaining clothes. Soon, they’re completely naked on the couch, her on his lap, kissing along his neck. He reaches his fingers towards her pussy, caressing his thumb on her clit. 

“Baby,” she whines. “I want you inside me. I want to ride this cock until we both come.”

“Then do it, sweetie. I’m all yours.” 

It’s reminiscent of their first time. They were hasty that night, desperate for a quick fuck with a total stranger. Indulging in wicked fantasies they both needed satiated. This time, it’s more intimate. He pays attention to the sound of her heartbeat, the warmth in her cheeks, goosebumps forming on the most sensitive spots of her skin, the angelic sounds coming from her lips. Memorizing it all until it’s ingrained in his mind.

His cock is sprung against his abdomen, already leaking precum at the tip. He grabs hold of his erection, rubbing the head onto her puffy clit, tapping it loudly. Wet slaps spurring her to rut into his lap faster. Her hands are clasped around her tits, fingers pinching at her hardening nipples, erotic as ever in front of him. It’s a captivating sight he’s seen before, but always marvels, still in disbelief at his luck one month ago when he first laid eyes on her.

He strokes himself, spreading precum along the shaft, though it’s not enough. “Spit on it, princess. Get it wet for me.”

She nods, bowing her head to dribble a warm stream of saliva down onto his cock, coating his dick. Slick enough, she lifts up to position him at her entrance, sinking down gradually until she’s sat on his lap again, wiggling her ass to get herself comfortable. 

He hums, relishing the sensation of being nestled inside her precious cunt, holding her in a snug embrace. They stay like this for a moment, him sliding one hand around her breast, kissing her nipple. 

“Kishibe,” she breathes out, eager for more. 

He sucks it plump against his lips, flicking his tongue on it, listening for her pleasured moans with each lick. His cock twitches inside her, still hard, surrounded by her wet heat. The temptation to fuck her is almost irresistible; however, seeing her in this blissful state is too marvelous to rush. 

“Baby, fuck,” she whines, as he works on her other tit, pulling it taut with his mouth. It’s his favorite, witnessing her unravel on top of him. And tonight is a celebration. It makes it all the more special.

Releasing her, he leans back, holding her sides once more, watching her slowly rock back and forth on his thighs. “Go ahead. Ride me. Fuck me till we both come. You can do it.” 

Using her knees for leverage, she rises slightly, keeping just his tip inside, them sinks back down, repeating so that she’s bouncing on his cock steadily. 

“There you go. Use that cock, baby. Just like that,” he whispers, staring at his dick disappearing into her pussy. He stays still, letting her do all the work, resisting the urge to slam his hips into her. He wants to savor this, indulge in it as long as he possibly can. 

Cupping her face, he teases her lips with his thumb, slipping it inside her mouth for her to suck on. She holds his wrist, sticking it further down her tongue, spreading her saliva around him. He pulls it out, a string of shiny spit connected to her lips as he reaches down to touch her clit. 

“Ah, Kishibe. That feels so good,” she praises, riding him faster. 

“You’re getting close, I know it. Come for me, baby. Make us both come.” He holds her close, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths, messy and wet. His thumb toys with her swollen clit, her wanton moans vibrating against his lips. His abdomen is clenched tight, ready for release. He wants to spill inside her, give her his all, just as she does for him.

Unable to resist any longer, he grips her bottom, holding her in place. He starts thrusting up into her, feet planted firmly to the floor, couch squeaking with every plunge of his hips. She’s tight around him, slick already creamy on his shaft, her fingers rubbing fast on her bud to reach her climax faster. Her high-pitched whimpers and obscene squelches of arousal spur him on, driving him further and further off the edge. They come together, cum filling up her pussy until it’s leaking between them, the sticky aftermath evidence of their passionate love making. They catch their breaths, Kishibe relaxing on the couch as she slumps over him, face buried in his neck. Soon, she starts giggling. He can’t help but join. 

“You really are a terrible girlfriend, making me come right before dinner,” he teases her.

“I had to do my part after you planned such a lovely evening.” She sighs happily. “I’m so lucky to have a thoughtful boyfriend.” 

“It’s really nothing,” he waves off.

“It’s definitely something. I’m truly so lucky,” she reiterates, nuzzling comfortably against him. “So lucky.”

A while passes before he reluctantly suggests, “We should get ready soon.”

“Wait. Let’s just stay like this for another minute or two,” she murmurs, clinging to him tighter.

He chuckles, thankful she suggested it, because that’s exactly what he wants to do too. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

“Happy anniversary, Kishibe.”

“Happy anniversary, princess.”

~~~

The first time Kishibe tells you he loves you, he’s drunk.

He has an assignment outside of the city, food and lodging included, staying at a hotel with his protégé, Himeno, who you’ve met several times in the three months you’ve been dating. You’re well acquainted with her, so much so that you even have her number, in case of emergencies. However, she often texts you anyways just to chat, which you don’t mind at all. 

On the last day of his mission, he informs you that he’ll be out for drinks with his partner and a few other members of Public Safety. It must have been a successful job, considering there were no deaths, either civilians or devil hunters. It’s always a relief, knowing that Kishibe has survived another day.

You lie in bed, scrolling through the myriad of texts you’ve exchanged with him over the past week. Although he considers himself a man of few words, he never fails to send you a message whenever he can, whether it’s a good morning text, a quick check in, even a snapshot of what he’s eating that day. Tonight, he barely contacts you, busy celebrating with his comrades. You can’t blame him, but there’s no denying it; you miss him.

Being in your own bed on a Friday night, in the dinky apartment you share with your not-so-stellar roommate, is a feeling you’ve happily become unfamiliar with. You wish you were in Kishibe’s luxurious king-sized bed instead, snuggled in his strong arms, being kissed and licked all over. His gruff voice hot in your ear, whispering sweet nothings that make you melt. 

Without thinking, you send him a text, simply stating I miss you. You don’t wait for a reply, distracting yourself with a show, surrounded by blankets and pillows to fill the void left by his absence. When did you become so needy? 

On the verge of sleep, the vibration and ping of your phone stirs you awake. It’s almost 11 PM. Your heart flutters, hoping it’s your boyfriend. You’re surprised to see Himeno’s name on the notification. 

It’s a picture of Kishibe, slumped over at a table, clearly drunk. His other colleagues pose beside him, some waving peace signs, others sticking their tongues out, all of them holding beers. You chuckle at the image, happy to see all of them smiling and lively. Even if your boyfriend is intoxicated out of his wit’s end, at least you know he’s alive. Death is a new fear you’ve inherited since being seriously involved with a devil hunter. You spend every waking moment together, treating it like it’s your last, because you never know if it is. 

As you admire the photo, you suddenly get a call from the sender. “Hello?” you answer.

Himeno’s voice is soft through the speaker. “Hi there, friend. Did you like what I sent you?” You imagine her leaning on the wall outside the bar, preparing to smoke.

You laugh. “I do. Thank you for that. I hope he’s not giving you too much trouble.”

“On the contrary, he was our source of entertainment tonight.” On the other end of the line, you hear the drag of her cigarette.

“Really?”

She lets out a puff before answering, “Yes. He wouldn’t shut up about how amazing his girlfriend is.”

A rush of heat surrounds your cheeks, either from flattery or embarrassment. “What?”

“He kept gushing on and on about you, it was non-stop.”

“That doesn’t sound like Kishibe. Are you sure you’ve got the right one in there?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she chuckles. “To be fair, he’s had quite a lot to drink. And his tolerance has turned to shit. What’s up with that?”

You’ve recently noticed the subtle changes in his drinking habits. His flask stays on the dish rack all weekend, coincidentally whenever you’re visiting. He rarely orders liquor when you’re out to dinner. He only indulges in a bottle of wine the two of you share occasionally over a home-cooked meal. 

“I don’t know,” you answer, not wanting to admit anything on Kishibe’s behalf. 

You hear her hum in response, taking another hit of her cigarette. “I think it’s because he’s happy. He doesn’t need to forget anymore because he’s got you.”

The words hang tight in your throat, leaving you speechless.

She giggles faintly, aware of the depth her statement holds. “Anyways, I called in case you want the address to our hotel. Master is staying in the room right next to mine. Given the state he’s in, he may need his lovely girlfriend to take care of him.”

You think about this for a minute, still reeling over her touching sentiment just a few seconds ago. Before you can refuse, she offers, “I’ll call you a cab and charge it to work. Consider it a service you’re fulfilling for Public Safety, assisting our highest ranked Devil Hunter.”

Eventually, you agree, thanking her for the idea. She chats with you a while longer as you hastily pack a gym bag with all the essentials, excited to reunite with Kishibe. You hang up with her once you’re out of the apartment, cab already waiting for you. Ten minutes to your destination, you text Himeno your status, allowing her time to bring him back to the hotel to meet you. 

You’re waiting in the lobby when you hear the doors open to see Kishibe hunched between Himeno and another colleague. Her face lights up when she sees you, prompting her to nudge him in the ribs. “Hey, Master. Guess who’s here?”

He lifts his head up slowly, eyes completely blitzed, as he rasps, “Huh?”

You approach them, grinning from his ridiculous expression. It takes a while for him to process, blinking rapidly, as if correcting his vision. When he finally realizes it’s you, he stands up a little straighter and whispers your name. 

“Surprise,” you say, waving in front of him. 

He repeats your name again, removing himself from his coworkers to wrap his arms around you. The smell of liquor is intense, indicating just how drunk he really is. 

“I guess our work here is done,” Himeno smirks. “I think Master is in good hands now. Let’s go, Arai.” She passes you the key card to the room, giving you one last wink before they leave towards the elevators. 

“Kishibe, let’s go to the room now,” you tell him, his body drooped over you. 

“Don’t leave me,” he whines, voice husky from inebriation. 

“I’m not, we’re going to your room together,” you explain, rubbing his back. “Can you walk with me to the elevator?”

He nods languidly, dragging his feet beside you as you make your way up to his room. Inside, he immediately shrugs his overcoat off and collapses into bed face first. You sit at the end of the bed, patiently removing his shoes from his feet. 

In the bathroom, you soak a small bath towel in warm water, wringing out any excess liquid. You grab a fresh bottle of water from the mini fridge and crack it open, pouring it into a glass for easy access. Kishibe grunts into the pillow as you sit beside him, rolling him over so he’s face up. When he sees you, he grins. “Am I dead?” 

“Of course not, sweetie,” you answer, placing the warm towel on his forehead, gently pressing your palm on top. 

“Then why is there an angel here with me?” He lifts his arm to point at you. 

“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?”

He reaches for you, tugging at your sleeve. “The only thing that’s ridiculous is how fucking beautiful you are.” He lays your hand on his cheek, nestling into your palm like a puppy. It’s a side of him that you’ve seen brief glimpses of, but never to this extent. 

“You’re drunk,” you tease him, tapping your thumb at his chin.

“Drunk in love,” he replies, chuckling to himself.

Love. Maybe you’re both too old to put such meaning into words. There’s no doubt that it’s there, never admitted out loud. Why bother saying it when it’s so obvious?

You caress his cheek, tracing the scar that you love so much. He’s told you the story behind it more than once, each time, a new detail added that you tuck away into your treasure box of him in your brain. 

You love everything about him. His past, his present. Flaws and perfections, or the lack thereof. He’s rough around the edges, definitely not sugar-coated, even a bit intense. His immense strength is hidden beneath his stoic demeanor, reserved specifically to hunt devils, never fully revealed to you. Still, you feel safe with him, as if all potential dangers are thwarted in his mere presence. You’ve heard it enough to know that he’s a force to be reckoned with, a serious outlier in a job where young people die and growing old doesn’t exist. He’s the exception. 

And you’re the same for him. A life beyond the confines of devil hunting. An escape that doesn’t involve a bottle. A chance at normalcy in a world where nothing for him is normal. It almost never happened. The first night you met, he warned you about his lifestyle, watched you walk away for your own sake. And now, you’re the exception. 

He gazes at you with half-lidded eyes, still intoxicated, but fully aware. Smiling, he whispers your name. “I love you.”

You stare at him, startled by his candid confession. The words are on the tip of your tongue, easy and effortless, because you truly feel it. But you don’t say it back, thinking he’ll forget this conversation in the morning. You want it to be special, not in the midst of his drunken stupor. 

So, you keep quiet, gradually removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, and loosening his belt. After you change and brush your teeth, you return to him, coaxing him into drinking water, which he does, before you both settle under the covers, cuddling. Eventually, he falls asleep, you following him soon after. 

In the morning, you wake up to Kishibe caressing your cheek, delicately petting your temple. He’s turned towards you, shirtless and smiling. “Good morning, princess.”

You bite your lip, happy to see him. “Good morning.”

“You surprised me last night, didn’t you?” He pulls you in closer. 

You burrow your face against his bare chest, last night’s booze almost completely worn off. “You can blame Himeno for that. She’s very convincing.”

“I’ll make sure to thank her. Somehow, she knew that I needed you.” He cradles you, kissing your forehead. “By the way, you owe me something.”

“What?”

“You know what.” 

You look up at him. “You remember?”

“Of course I remember.” Pressing his forehead to yours, he whispers, “I love you.”

The second time Kishibe says it, he’s completely sober. And this time, you say it back. 

~~~

When he asks her to move in with him, he almost doesn’t go through with it. 

It’s a Sunday morning. They’ve been dating for six months now, spending most of their time in his apartment, snuggled in his king-sized bed. She often complains about her place, the typical grievances of an adult woman living with a roommate she doesn’t particularly get along with. But it’s not her woes that convince him to ask her. It’s his own selfish desires. 

He wants to wake up every single morning to her pretty face, to that warm smile that ignites every nerve in his body, that cute laugh that plays like the most majestic melody in his head. He doesn’t need drugs or caffeine to give him that energy boost. He needs her.

Today is different than other Sundays. She warned him the night before; she needs to leave early to attend to some roommate business. They’re having issues with the refrigerator, and she, apparently, needs to be there to deal with it. 

They cuddle in bed, enveloped by blankets and body heat, kissing each other softly. This usually leads to something steamy, but not today. When she pulls away to get ready to leave, he’s disappointed, enough that he mutters, “Don’t.”

She turns to face him with a confused expression. “Don’t what?”

He pauses, doubting himself if this is the right moment, so he keeps quiet. 

She returns to the bed, hopping on top of him, palms at his cheeks. “Don’t what, sweetie?”

“Don’t leave,” he musters, through gritted teeth.

Giggling, she nuzzles her nose against his. “You know I have to.”

“You don’t. Not if you live here with me.”

“Are you asking me to move in?”

“Yeah, I am.”

She squeals, smile incapable of being any bigger. The reaction he was hoping for. “Took you long enough. I can’t believe I get to live with you.” She kisses his scar, then his forehead. “My baby.” A smooch on the lips. “My new roommate.” 

He keeps her there, kissing her deep, tongue slipping inside her mouth. She moans into him, grinding her hips on his lap. 

“I’m taking this as a yes, then?”

She nods, sucking on his lower lip. “Mm-hm.”

“Don’t you have to meet your roommate soon?” he reminds her, slipping beneath her shirt to fondle her breasts.

“I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m going to be living with my boyfriend soon. She can get mad at me all she wants.”

He never gets sick of hearing her call him that. Her boyfriend. He’s hasn’t been anyone’s for the longest time. It feels good to be hers. “Are you still sore from last night?” He reaches his other hand down to rub her clit over her panties. 

“A little bit,” she answers, scattering kisses along his neck.

“Let me eat it then,” he whispers, sucking on her ear lobe, slipping past the fabric to slide his finger up and down her folds. “Ride my fucking face. Give me my breakfast in bed. Want to eat this pussy until I’m full.”

It’s safe to say that the relationship with her old roommate is properly ruined this day, in favor of her new one.

~~~

Kishibe is the first to mention having kids. 

A year into your relationship, he tags along to your niece’s birthday party. The mother, Hina, who is your best friend, has already met Kishibe on multiple occasions, but never in a setting like this. A children’s party is another level of crazy that even the insane devil hunter himself might not be able to bear. 

After the usual round of greetings, your niece, Maki, immediately stands in front of him to peer at his face, curious. In his gruff voice, he greets, “Happy birthday, Maki,” proceeding to pat her awkwardly on the head. 

She continues to stare at him, a glint of suspicion in her expression. “Are you an FBI agent or something?”

For some reason, he decided to wear his work attire to a children’s party. You’re trying to contain your laughter as he clears his throat to answer her. “Actually, I am a devil hunter.”

Maki’s eyes go round. “Devil…hunter…?”

“Yup.”

Without taking her gaze off of him, she starts yelling for all her friends, who come running immediately, all marveling at Kishibe. He glances at you, brows twitching slightly in concern. All you can do is grin at him, knowing he’s in for it.

For the next hour or so, the kids take advantage of this opportunity to entertain their premiere guest, challenging him to see how many of them he can carry at once, demanding to be shown his “special” moves, even go so far as to gnaw at his overcoat, acting like true devils. He takes it all in stride, his stoic expression cracking occasionally into the tiniest smile.

You sneak him a few slices of pizza as he bicep curls three of the kids, including birthday girl Maki. Before he eats, he gives you a smooch on the cheek, indicating that he’s actually enjoying himself.

From the other side of the room, you sit next to Hina, who’s carrying her other child, baby Kenji. You’re playing peek-a-boo when your friend asks, “So, do you think you and Kishibe will ever have kids?”

“We haven’t even talked about marriage yet, we’re for sure not thinking about kids.”

“You two don’t talk about that stuff?”

It’s been a year now since you’ve been with Kishibe, and it’s still going extremely well. You’ve been preoccupied with enjoying the relationship that you haven’t thought to discuss important matters yet. You shrug and answer, “No, not really.”

“Well, don’t you think you should bring it up?” 

You think for several seconds before answering, “We’re taking it one step at a time. We’re fine where we’re at now.” 

She gives you a look, as if she wants to say something else, but she ends up dropping it. Maki’s voice rings out from the living room, calling for her. “Oh shoot, can you hold Kenji for a bit? Maki needs me.”

You agree, holding your arms out to cradle him. He peers up at you with the whimsy and wonder that most babies radiate. You smile, finding a comfortable position to hold him in. 

“You’re a natural.” You look up to see Kishibe standing in front you, a birthday hat on his head, probably forced there by the rugrats.

“And you’re a hit,” you reply, grinning. “The kids love you. Are you having fun?”

He removes his hat to place on you instead. “I don’t mind it.” He hovers over your face to give you a playful pinch on your cheek.

Kenji starts to fuss, to which you focus your attention back to him, cooing until he’s peaceful again. From your peripheral, you spot your boyfriend watching you intently.

“You’d make a good mother,” he states, quietly. 

You look up at him, surprised by his statement. “Really?”

“Yeah. You look good like this,” he comments, nonchalant, as if he’s playing it off. You remain silent, still unsure how to respond. 

Then, he comments, “I think we’d be good parents, you and I.”

“You do?” You beam at him, impossible now to contain. 

“Yeah. We’d be great,” he reiterates, gazing at you with a soft, loving expression. 

On the drive home from the party, Kishibe rests his palm on your thigh as he steers with the other. There’s a new vibe between you now, knowing that you’re both on the same page about having children. He actually seems excited about it. 

Back at the apartment, after you put away all of the leftovers from the party, you both retreat into the bedroom to change. While you’re stripped almost bare, aside from your bottoms, he approaches you, hugging you from behind as he kisses your nape. 

You giggle, craning your neck to face him. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispers, grazing your ear with his lips.

“About what?”

“Making a baby with you.” His voice is low and sultry as his hands glide to your waist, slowly slipping under the elastic of your pajamas. 

“Are you serious right now?” 

“Mm-hm.”

His fingers find your pussy, rubbing the fabric against your clit. The other hand tugs your pants past your ass, causing them to fall to the floor, bunched at your ankles. You let out an exasperated moan, almost annoyed at his timing, but most definitely turned on. You lift your feet to shove your clothes away, reaching behind to palm his erection. Of course he isn’t wearing clothes, clad in only his boxer briefs, which are tight around his growing bulge. You’ve been ambushed, and you don’t know whether to be worried or horny. Probably the latter. 

Within a minute, the two of you are naked on top of the bed, not bothering to lie under the covers. He kisses you all over your body, starting at your needy lips, dragging his tongue down to abdomen to nestle his face into your plush stomach. Seconds later, his mouth is surrounding your clit, swishing his spit, swirling his tongue, your whimpers filling the room. You spread your thighs wider, grabbing onto the top of his head, binding his hair into a fist to pull him off when it gets too sensitive. Though he never lets you, always relentless when he eats you out. 

When you come, he slurps on your slick until he’s satisfied, dipping his tongue deep into your pussy walls, collecting every drop of you into his mouth. Once he’s finished, he climbs on top, kissing you on the lips, still wet with your arousal, tasting it for yourself. You wrap your fingers around his hard cock, stroking him before he stands at the edge of the bed, pulling you towards him to position himself in front of you. You hear him open the bedside drawer, retrieving the regularly used bottle of lube, the snap, squelch, and click a familiar sound.

He guides his dick into you slowly, pulling away at the slightest resistance, only to thrust back in gently. Your cunt squeezes around him as he fucks you, bent over your chest to suck on your nipples simultaneously. Without warning, he releases you from his mouth to hoists your legs up onto his shoulder, cock plunging farther into your pussy. 

Surprised, you cry out, “Kishibe!”

His eyes are wild, an animal in heat, fucking you harder and deeper. “I want to fuck a baby in you just like this. Breed you until you’re round in your belly.” He slides his palm over your stomach, stroking around your navel. “Right here.”

There are tears in your eyes from the pleasure, your throat dry from the excessive moans he’s drawing out from you. All you can do is take it. 

“You fucking love this, don’t you? I’ll be such a good daddy to you and our baby,” he grunts.

You nod your head erratically, babbling, “Fuck, I want that so bad. I want that so bad, daddy.”

He chuckles, breathing staggered. “You like calling me daddy now, knowing I’m going to breed you. Knowing I’m going to give you my fucking seed.” He’s hitting your sweet spot over and over, fingers rapidly toying with your clit. 

“Fuck, right there!”

“Daddy’s hitting it good, huh? Giving it to you so fucking good. Gonna fill this pretty pussy with all of my daddy cum, isn’t that right, princess?” He huffs filthy words at you, completely immersed in whatever carnal instinct is controlling him in this moment. 

You tremble all over, skin hot with passion as you climax. He pumps his cock into you, spilling his load until his balls are emptied out. He pulls out slowly, watching his creamy cum leak out of your slit, enjoying it like a masterpiece that he helped paint. 

He lies beside you, both of you calming down from your orgasms. “Was that too much?” he asks, rubbing your belly again.

“No. It was great,” you reassure him, smiling as you cover his hand with yours, entwining your fingers. “Didn’t think you’d have a baby fever all of a sudden.” 

“To be fair, I wasn’t sure I wanted kids. Not since recently.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because now I have a chance at a life like that. I never knew that was possible for me until I met you.”

Your heart swells at this, blinking your eyes to rid any residual or oncoming tears. You lean close to kiss him softly on the cheek. “I love you, Kishibe.”

“I love you too, princess.”

~~~

He proposes on a sunny afternoon in the middle of the week during spring. Cherry blossom season. 

A few months ago, on a whim, they went ring shopping, for shits and giggles. She got her finger sized, which he noted, and she gazed at a particular ring for a good two minutes, a twinkle in her eye that was unmistakable. He knew that was the one, just as he knows that she is the one. 

He bought it two weeks later, and since then, it’s been in his pocket, rolling around in there for months now. He’s been close a few times already, grazing the box with his fingers, ready to whip it out during an especially romantic moment. Still, it never felt right. 

That is, until today. 

They’re both on their lunch breaks, walking off their meal at a nearby park, fingers interlaced seamlessly. This has become routine for them, something they’ve become used to. But every time, he craves it more and more. The intimacy of it. The normalcy of it. He’s getting accustomed to feeling human, and not solely a devil hunting machine. And it’s all thanks to her. 

It’s been two years now, living together in domestic bliss, practically inseparable, aside from their day jobs. He’d carry her around in his pocket if he could, or he’d shrink himself down to be in hers. Either way, he wishes they were always with each other. 

He’s become a man dependent on a woman. If you’d ask him three years ago if he’d ever become like this, he’d scoff and deny it. Now, he doesn’t bat an eye to admit it. He’s fucking needy, and unashamed about it.

They are by no means perfect. A relationship without flaws doesn’t exist in the real world. They argue, as regular couples do, but never going to bed angry. No matter who’s right or wrong, they both listen to each other and talk it out. What he loves about her is that she’s neither a dream nor a fantasy; she’s real. Perfectly imperfect, just as he is. He never has to worry about waking up and finding out it was his imagination all along. He knows she exists by the way her body feels around him, the warmth of skin against his, the lingering scent of her shampoo on the pillows and sheets. Bits and pieces of her scattered through their apartment, mixed with traces of him, combining into a beautiful, cohesive mess. 

Kishibe never considered himself a sentimental person, not until her. Now, everything has meaning. Nothing is too little or insignificant to cherish. Movie stubs, blurry polaroid pictures, a Dirty Thirty! sash and sparkly tiara still hanging on the corner of the vanity. It’s reminders that their time together has never been wasted, especially when life can be cut short in any moment. 

They find a park bench to sit at, watching soft, pink petals float lazily through the breeze. She rests her head on his shoulder, observing all the blossoms falling from the trees. “I wish we could stay like this forever. I don’t want to go back to work.”

He squeezes her hand, hoping his palms aren’t sweating. “Me too.” It’s rare for Kishibe to be nervous, but for some reason, he is. In his pocket, he feels for the vechalvet box, housing the ring. Second guessing himself if this is really right.

“Let’s run away. Quit our jobs and live off the grid,” she teases. It’s not the first time she’s joked about it. They often do, wishing they could neglect the responsibilities of the real world to indulge in each other endlessly. 

“Why don’t we get married first. Then we’ll plan our escape.” 

“We’re practically married, aren’t we?” She nuzzles her cheek against him. “I already consider you my husband.”

He swallows hard, adrenaline coursing this his veins. The moment finally here. “Let’s make it official then.”

It’s a Wednesday afternoon, as mundane as the last, when Kishibe asks her to marry him. It becomes the most special day of his life because she says yes. 

--------------------

End Notes: Thank you all for reading this Kishibe fic! I hope you enjoyed reading just as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

Taglist: one of my fave people on here @liliorsstuff-blog! thank you for always showing me love and supporting me, love you! 💜

[bubble-tea-blossom]

Misstep

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel's been dancing around you and teasing you all day. Good thing you know how to tease him back.

Rating / Warning: Explicit. SMUT 18+ Only. Drinking and sex while drinking (neither is super drunk just a few beers) Slightly rough sex. PIV. Oral sex. Semi-public sex. PWP

WC: 3k

A/N: Cross posted to my AO3   Or read Part 1: Wake Up Call

Joel's toying with you.

You know he's doing it on purpose. Dancing around you, popping up in and out of your eye line as both of you keep a respectable distance from each other amongst the other bodies mingling at this party. Although he might always be in view because you're having trouble keeping your eyes off him.

He's wearing a red flannel that fits him well. It looks soft and shows his broad shoulders tapering down to his waist. His hair has grown longer than when you first met him, it suits him. He looks more than fucking hot, he looks handsome.

And as much as you want to walk up and fist the soft but rough material of his shirt and pull him against you, you pretend to not be aware of his presence.

Instead you look people in the eye as they talk to you, clap when the band finishes their song, go get your...third beer of the night you're pretty sure. It's good, better than the bathtub vodka someone made the year you arrived in Jackson, doesn't remind you of siphoning gas so much.

He passes by you time and time again. Sometimes acknowledging you with a head dip, or your name, other times he's far away enough a greeting isn't socially expected. To any onlookers from the outside, he would look like he's own his own path. Going this way and that, sometimes being dragged by his brother to go talk business with someone, other times someone coming up to him to ask him something. But to you, you can feel his gravitational pull to you, on orbit around you, sometimes far a way, but also anchored back to you. Always somehow angled towards you, like the moon to the Earth.

You feel bad for Jay who's talking with you, because you really aren't taking in anything he's animatedly telling you about. He's on his fifth beer, so you don't think he really notices that your eyes are set past his shoulder.

Joel's eyes from this far away look almost black in the dim setting of Seth's bar. The lights overhead are only about 3/4 on, with soft yellow lamps in different corners. The alcohol settling in your stomach begins to buzz pleasantly, radiating out through your body, making you feel a little lightheaded.

Although that could just be your reaction whenever Joel looks at you like that.

He's meeting your gaze from across the room, his brother and Maria standing next to him.

You can't help but rest a little more weight on the arm that's resting against the bar so you can lean your hip out a little more.

Only you would notice the way Joel shifts how he's standing before looking away.

You too, re-focus as best you can back on Jay, who luckily does not seem to care how long you spaced out over his shoulder. Instead you think about the start of the night when you first saw Joel walking in with Tommy.

You'd gone over to say hi to both of them, you knew Tommy well before Joel arrived in Jackson with Ellie, and so you greeted Tommy as a friend and Joel as an associate. They'd both been happy to see you, Tommy excitedly catching up while Joel stayed quiet most of the time. Tommy being a social butterfly saw someone else to say hello and gave you a quick hug goodbye.

All Joel had done was place a modest hand on your shoulder as he walked past. But his fingertips brushed down your arm as he drew away, almost as if removing his touch was a difficult task.

It had sent a jolt to your heart as it kick started to double speed from such a quick touch.

Kinda like the one you just got when you see Tommy has finally stopped talking and is leading Joel to the bar.

You of course pretend to not notice until Tommy greets both you and Jay. They strike up a completely new topic and face each other. You take this as a safe time to look up at Joel to see him already looking at you.

"Joel." you greet, relishing seeing him up close finally in this gorgeous warm lighting. It makes him glow a little in the dusky yellow light, adding to your badly hidden desire tenfold.

"Miss." he replies and you feel your jaw twitch. He's totally teasing you on purpose. Calling you 'miss' like he didn't almost fuck you against your door before you got here. How he made you ache, grinding and rubbing through too many layers of clothes. How he'd gotten you to look up at him with what you know where phenomenal fuck-me-eyes and whisper 'please' How'd he'd resisted, you have no idea. But he did, pulling away, an ill hidden smirk as he said he was gonna be late.

You hold up your drink, "Want one?" you ask.

"Sure."

You turn around going on tiptoes and lean over the bar, fishing out a beer from behind the counter. If people noticed how this put your ass practically in his lap they were mostly too drunk to think on it. You take your time to search for a bottle you think he’d like, giving him ample opportunity to admire how your pretty skirt has ridden high on your thigh. You slide back down to your feet, this time much closer to him as you lean back against the bar.

He joins you, hip to hip, a knowingly look on his face as he thanks you with a cheers, the necks of your bottle clinking before you both take a swig.

You can’t tear your eyes off him. He’s close enough with you standing hip to hip, elbows on the bar that when you turn your heads to look at each other you can see how dilated his green eyes are. The green iris being encompassed by the pupil as he looks right into your eyes where you can guess something similar is happening to your own eyes. You can feel another pulse straight to your pussy and can tell you’re already wet.

Being this close he unabashedly looks you up and down without more than a tilt of his head. You can’t help to pose for him, leaning out your hips a little more.

You congratulate yourself for being subtle when all you really want to do is drag him out the back door and demand he fuck you.

You’re mentally tracing of the scar on the crooked bridge of his nose when he brings you out it,

"How are you?” his voice is deep and a tiny bit hoarse.

You shrug, “M’fine thanks for asking. Liking the party?” you keep your tone appropriate, Jay and Tommy are still chatting up a storm behind. However you are grateful because they are creating a nice cozy barrier from any long distance viewers.

"I am actually, it's nice." Joel dips his head slightly, "I heard you were on top of things today on patrol." Joel brings up your morning patrol with Tommy this morning. You took out three runners in a row by yourself.

"Yeah, I was pretty badass." you joke, smiling up at him.

"I don't doubt it." Joel remarks. Because you are. And with Joel looking at you with an appraising look, it makes you feel precious.

You hear behind you Tommy and Jay start to break out of their intense conversation and know you should probably take a subtle step back from Joel.

"How many of those have you had?" Joel asks, gesturing to your beer.

"This is my third, why?" You ask just as Joel goes to stand. As he does, he sweeps near your ear, and says lowly, "Make it your last if you want me to do the thing, I want to do to you."

You've never put down a drink so confidently.

Your back is flush against the bricks outside. The night air is cool against your skin that’s exposed to it, but that’s not a lot with Joel pressed against you.

His hand is pressed under your skirt you wore, rubbing and stroking your pussy from the inside, coaxing you to soak his hand. You feel your legs close around his hips, while you wiggle on top of some crates against the wall. Your body clenching tight, chest shuddering lightly as your heart rate quickens.

Fuck, he’s going to make you come like this.

Grabbing him by the belt loops across his hips you push him away before pushing his back against the wall instead.

You leave your fingers there, teasing at his waist band. Reaching up you kiss him again before migrating your kisses lower. Across his jaw to his neck, sucking lightly beneath the corner of his jaw. Light enough it's not going to leave a mark.

But the alcohol must be loosening your pettiness because the thought of Joel stumbling back into the party with a hickey on his neck after teasing you so long was tempting.

But when he shortly grunts and squeezes your hair threaded through his fingers, you acquiesce and move on, continuing to lick and kiss further down.

Your hands come up to shift his shirt aside so you can lightly kiss his collarbones, sending another shiver through him. He leans his head back against the wall to expose his throat to you, his hands have traveled to your hips, squeezing encouragingly. Another feather light kiss to the hollow of his throat. Your fingers start unbuttoning when his shirt gets in the way as you go further.

You only unbutton two more before sinking completely to your knees and instead ruck up the shirt up his stomach. You pay little mind to kneeling on the hard concrete ground.

You purposefully rub your fingertips up his sensitive belly as you peel the shirt up. Revealing his glorious treasure trail that disappears underneath his jeans and band of his boxers that you can see a sliver of.

This area you give lots of love to, kissing and dragging your teeth slightly. When Joel makes another quiet noise you look up and find his head still thrown back, eyes closed in pleasure. It’s a sight you want to ingrain in your head forever. However long you want to stay here, forever, you’re aware with a sick sense of thrill that the longer you linger in this alley, the more likely someone’s going to stumble by.

By the way Joel shifts to look down at you, one big hand holding the side of your face, you can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

But then you remember your mission, how desperate he made you feel, and you lean back a little on your heels to make direct eye contact and deliberately avoid his zipper.

You choose instead to trace his erection through his jeans with a fingertip. Smiling when you can tell by the way he jumps that’s not what he was expecting.

You use enough pressure so he feels it through his clothes, but not enough to be anything other than maddening. You lean forward to lift his shirt with your other hand and continue lipping at his sensitive lower belly to madden him even more.

Joel humors you for a surprising amount of time considering your location, but eventually he breathes out our name, his voice deep and graveled from arousal.

You don’t hid your smile against his warm skin. But you ignore his gentle urge, you want to push him a little bit more.

Joel is never one to rush things, especially when it comes to intimacy, he always seems perfectly fine with whatever you want to do. But tonight with the risky action of you on your knees in front of him behind the bar, he can't stand it any longer.

“Touch me.”

“But I am touching you, Joel.” you blink with feigned innocence which gains a growled out groan from him, “Take me into your mouth.”

This time you blink in surprise at how hot you found how that.

He finishes with “Please.”

Fucking finally.

You have trouble playing coy as you eagerly go to unbutton his jeans and pull his fly down. Reaching a hand down his jeans you pull him out, finding him achingly hard. You waste little time to taste him.

Joel actually gasps for you when your warm, slick tongue slides against the head of his cock. After so much teasing, direct contact there is almost overwhelming, so you change to pressing a line of kisses up his shaft.

Both hands on his thighs, he’s hard enough that you can lick him gently without having to hold him. Your fingers massage into his corded thighs, kneading out tension you simultaneously instill through your teasing.

You draw back to his tip and caress the bottom with your tongue as you envelope his tip with your soft mouth. You keep rolling your tongue on his underside while you sink a little deeper down him

One of your hands comes up to wrap around the base of his shaft. You just hold him for a second and feel the faint pulse. Luckily he’s been slicked up sufficiently from your previous licking so it’s easy to start stroking up and down.

You pop your mouth off so your hand can travel the entire length of him, twisting around his head. You repeat a few times before a little more firmer twist around his head repeatedly, earning a moan from Joel who desperately bites it down.

The damning sounds enthuse you as you return your hand to his base and eagerly take him back into your mouth. This time you push yourself to continue to explore and take him gradually deeper and deeper, sweeping your tongue along the underside.

You reach a point all too soon where he hits the back of your throat. An awkward gawk sound comes from your throat, but at this point you don’t really care. And you go to continue before he stops you.

Joel pulls you up, “I need to be inside you.”

“You were just inside me.” you protest

“Inside your cunt.” he reiterates, lips close to your ear, thanks wrapped around your arms, turning you around swiftly. That breaks shivers down your back on anticipation as you whisper your excitement.

You don’t even need him to push his hand on your upper back down for you to bend over, hands coming to the wall in front of you. Your back bows instinctively as he flips your skirt up, pinning the material to your waist while his other hand guides his dick to where your pussy waits.

He presses inside quickly, not giving you your usual reintroduction period while your pussy adjusts to being stretched by the thickness of him.

He does pause once he’s hilted inside, “You good?”

“Fuck yes, Joel.” you respond by wiggling your hips back into him.

Joel takes that go ahead to start pumping his hard length into you, forcing you to stretch around him.

He does his best to keep the sound down, both of you hyper aware of the sounds of others not too far away.

The bar door from around the corner swing open and the sounds of the inside pour out into the night. You both instantly freeze, Joel’s cock still a good few inches inside you, as you listen with terror for what the next sounds will indicate. But after a few heart pounding seconds whoever it was walks off in the opposite direction, not even passing the alley.

Once the silence has returned for a sufficient time, you turn around to look at him,

“You gonna finish fucking me, old man?”

To that Joel huffs out a chuckle, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your face before rutting into you again. One hand reaching past your panties pulled to the side to slick against your clit.

His two fingers wetting quickly from your pussy soaking where it's stretched around him. One pulls back your hood while the other with feather light pressure rubs right against it.

This pulls a quiet gasp from your mouth as you desperately bite down to dampen it, leaning hard against your hands. With your mouth shut stubbornly, the energy rising in you has no where to go, making your legs shake. The crate under your right hand slips from under you, clattering to the ground with a few earth-shattering clangs before stopping.

You both pause again, listening raptly, but consumed by need, resume hastily.

Joel can feel you shake underneath him. The thought of you going back into the party, hiding your shaking legs, talking to people like he hadn't just fucked you was enough to make his orgasm rise.

Right until he hears someone bang the bar door open around the corner.

"I swear I heard something, like an animal or something knocking stuff around." A voice calls out to their accompaniment.

The both of you pull apart rashly, heart rate's tripling as clothes are rushed back on. Joel takes you by the elbow and you both sneak around the corner before the investigators catch you.

Taking quick glances to make sure the coast is clear on the other side, you cross the street and take the long way back to your house.

Once a safe distance away, you still to a stand, looking at each other with wild eyes.

"That was too damn close." Joel says seriously. All you can do is laugh and make your way to your house to finish what he started.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I’ve been in my Joel feels a lot right now so there’s more to come!

[pilotispunk]

Meet cute with Agent Whiskey? ☺️😇

Okay, so at first I didn’t think Agent Whiskey was my thing, knowing sooo many dudes from the south with his cocky attitude (but without his good looks) but god damn like every other P character he got to me. So here I present it…and I’m sorry that of course it got slutty.

Content: meet cute, airplane rides, fingering, dirty talk, jack daniels being the menace that he is

Rating: Explicit 18+

You could not believe your luck. 90% of the time you were on the flight from hell whether it be delayed, stuck in a sweltering cabin waiting for takeoff or sandwiched between new parents and a screaming baby.

On this flight you managed to have your seat upgraded from coach to first fucking class! Hello, champagne. Hello, extended seating. Hello luxury.

You were technically on the aisle seat but you figured why not test your luck again? If the person who was actually sitting there caught you in the window seat, you could feign confusion.

Like clockwork, a broad man in a white shirt, leather jacket and cowboy hat sat next to you. He didn’t have any carry on luggage except for the hat, his tinted glasses and an exceptionally bushy mustache. You looked towards him, ready to apologize but all he did was give you a wink.

“Quite a view, ain’t it?” He finally said after the plane had taken off. He had a deep voice with a slow southern drawl that took you out of your trance, watching the clouds go by.

“Yeah, there’s nothing like it.” You politely smiled back at him.

“I remember my first flight, too. I couldn’t stop staring at them clouds and trying to fix up stories about the shapes.”

“This isn’t my first flight.” You said curtly to him.

“Well, if it isn’t, then why’d you take my seat?” He grinned, giving you a side smirk exposing a dimple. You weren’t in a laughing mood.

“I’m only teasing, sugar. I’ll tell you what, you can keep the seat as long as I get to know your name.”

“I don’t talk to strangers.” You shortly replied.

He leaned over to you, tipping his sunglasses and exposing his dark brown eyes. He gave you a side smirk that made your insides more excited than you wanted to admit and he extended his hand.

“The name’s Jack Daniels, sweetheart.” He looks at your hand expectantly. After a few moments you decide to give in. What the hell, right? You introduce yourself. You shake his large, calloused hand and observe how tiny yours is in his, you see him looking down as if he sees the exact same thing.

“Well, we aren’t strangers anymore, are we? Can I buy you a drink, little girl?"

Who were you to say no to a free drink?

--------------------

After a couple of hours and a couple of drinks in the air, the conversation was fun and definitely flirty. You put your hand on his shoulder whenever he joked he was too old to be talking to you. You'd make a sly remark, and he'd squeeze his hand on your knee, after the third time he ignored all subtlety and stopped moving it all together.

His broad hand engulfed your knee as he grazed his fingers up and down your leg. Somehow in the discomfort of an airplane cabin you kept your legs crossed to form some sort of decency, but to also ignore the pool of want that was forming whenever he slipped his hands higher and higher.

At some point you'd decided you were cold and ordered a blanket. You covered yourself up as Jack grabbed some to share.

"If you want your own, it's $20 bucks. I don't share with strangers." You joked, leaning into him with your wine stained breath.

"I thought we weren't strangers anymore, sweet girl." Jack's side dimple exposed itself. You looked into his eyes, sunglasses off and the liquor you could smell and almost taste in your mouth.

"Hmmm, you don't know. I could be someone who cons old men into buying her drinks on every flight she takes. And just like every other sucker, you took the bait." You whispered.

"Darlin', I'm no sucker. I could tease and please better than you can imagine."

You chuckle at his forwardness. This man had some nerve, and it was somehow working. "Prove it."

He moves towards your ear and whispers in a deep, raspy voice. "Open your legs for me, sweetheart."

As if they had a mind of their own, your legs parted, Jack's fingers squeezing at your leg.

He moved his hand higher and higher until it met the cotton of your underwear. You briefly looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, but there were conversations, naps and movies being watched. Your world only revolved around you and Jack at that moment and with his molten stare, he knew it.

"If we're strangers...Have you ever been finger fucked on an airplane by a stranger, sweet girl?" Jack whispered into your ear. You felt yourself squirm and open yourself up for him.

He pushed your underwear to the side, no doubt already feeling your wetness for him. He moved up and down your folds, stopping at your clit to add a light pressure. You leaned into him to moan into his ear.

"I'm gonna take that as a no. But I tell you what, if this stranger makes you cum? You have to give me your number and let me see you again, wherever the hell it is we're landing."

"I don't have to give you anything." You retort, trying hard not to rock your hips into his pressure.

"That's right, I reckon you don't." Jack nodded. He slid his thick fingers down towards your opening, sliding in with such ease due to how achingly wet you were for him. "But I think once I'm done with you, you're gonna be begging to see me again. I'm already thinking about the next time when I'll get to taste this sweet pussy. Wouldn't you like that?"

You felt so much pressure from his fingers, shallowly entering you. The fight to ride his fingers was a losing game. You knew by the end of the flight, you'd be moaning into his ear, leaking juices all over his fingers spread inside of you and putting your number into his phone so you could do it all again.

[babybatscreationsv2]

Krampus

Marvel | Starker

It's Christmas and Tony still likes his games. But things are different now. The two are closer. And just maybe Peter is getting a little more in the spirit of things.

Rating: Explicit

Third in the Holiday Horrors series

Forever for and inspired by my muse, H <3

Warnings and tags below

Warnings/tags: con-noncon, scary mask, primal play, fear kink, crying, begging, violent/gory thoughts, knotting, monster fucking, painful sex, spanking/caning, victim blaming

The cold air bit his cheeks. Peter huffed out a breath and watched the cloud drift away. He glanced at May waiting in the driveway and gave her a reassuring smile. Tony never made him wait like this. In fact, where was Jarvis? He wiggled his toes in his boots and wished for the millionth time that he had something warmer for his feet. Then the door opened.

"Finally," Peter huffed. "Where were you?"

Tony leaned out the door and gave May a wave. "I was just making sure everything was ready. I didn't realize how cold it was."

Peter came inside and kicked off his snow damp boots. Tony took his coat from his shoulders as he unzipped.

"You didn't have to get me anything," he said alluding to the little wrapped gift Peter set on the shoe bench.

"Of course I didn't have to." Peter rolled his eyes. He picked the box back up while Tony hung his coat on the hook. He melted when Tony turned and looked at him, eyes dark and hungry.

"You could just let me unwrap you." He moved in, hands going around Peter's waist.

"Let you?" Peter teased. Tony grinned as he leaned in for a kiss. It was surprisingly quick for Tony who usually indulged until Peter's brain melted into submissive sludge and ended up on his knees. Instead, Tony took him by the hand and pulled him into the living room.

They sat on the couch under the twinkling lights of the Stark's oversized Christmas tree. Tony had laid out the table with drinks and snacks. A single present sat under the tree. Tony leaned back against the couch with an arm draped lazily along the back.

"Aren't you gonna open up your present?" he asked.

Excitement rang in his chest and he couldn't help but smile. Peter set Tony's gift down and went to collect his own from the tree. It was surprisingly big. He'd half expected something horny like a pair of handcuffs. Or, he shivered, another creepy mask.

He brought the box back to the couch and set it on his lap. Tony picked up his present. Then they both tore into the paper together. Peter only grew more excited as he realized what he was holding.

"Tony! This is way too much," Peter gasped. He pushed away the rest of the paper to look at the Lego set in his hands. The AT-AT figure was almost seven thousand pieces and he knew it cost a small fortune. He'd never even considered asking May for it.

Tony was quiet. Peter looked away from the box. He blushed as he saw him holding the little ring box Peter had given him. The ring inside was a simple silver band with their names engraved on the inside.

"It's not much, but what do you get the guy who has everything?" Peter laughed.

Tony looked at him. His eyes were soft. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

"I thought it was subtle enough that your friends wouldn't see if you didn't want them too."

"Why wouldn't I want them to see?"

Peter swallowed. It wasn't like Tony was never nice to him, but he was almost uncomfortably sincere.

"Did you like your present?" Tony asked him.

"I did. Thank you!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty great at buying gifts." He smirked.

Peter rolled his eyes. He set the box aside and turned toward his boyfriend. "Maybe I should show you my gratitude." He gave him a sultry look, eyes running down to his lap.

Tony's hand caressed his face. His fingers tugged gently on his hair. "Actually, I thought we could play a game."

"A game?" Peter shivered. That only meant one thing to Tony.

"Yeah," he smirked. He leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. "Close your eyes and wait right here."

"Okay..." Anxiety boiled in his belly, but he closed his eyes. Peter sat back against the couch as he felt Tony leave. He tried to follow his footsteps with his ears, but he quickly went silent. As if he was stalking him. As if he were stalking prey. Peter shivered. Then he gasped, jolting forward in his seat, as the power went out.

He heard the electric whir of power draining from the room around him. The lights on the Christmas tree were the only thing still running. They must have had some sort of battery backup.

"Tony?" Peter stood up from the couch and looked around. It was so dark. Everything around him was cast in shadow. The light coming from the windows was a soft, wintery blue. Evening had set in while they opened their gifts. Tony always had perfect timing. He wouldn't doubt he made him wait out in the cold on purpose just to make sure it was dark.

At least, he was pretty sure the breaker box was in the garage. That meant if he ran now, he could find somewhere to hide before Tony came back in. If he hadn't snuck in while Peter was processing that is.

So he ran.

He stuck to the carpet as much as he could to muffle his footsteps, then he took the stairs two at a time. At least he was more athletic than he looked. Tony made sure he got a lot of exercise. Peter wasn't sure he knew how to have sex without having a wrestling match first.

He didn't know the upstairs that well, but he was pretty sure Tony's bedroom was not the place to go. So he went the opposite way. He ducked in the second door off the hall and found a guest bedroom. He opened up the closet door, but it was too empty. Instead he tucked himself under the bed.

His heart was loud in his ears. His neck was throbbing as his pulse raged. A guilty twinge bothered his stomach as he realized the throbbing wasn't just in his neck.

It was silent for a long time. Then he heard soft footsteps in the hall and a sound like something being dragged. A door opened, then it was quiet. A few minutes later, the door opened to the room he was hiding in.

"Peter," Tony purred. He shivered as he realized his voice was muffled. Was he wearing the mask? His shadow moved from the doorway to the closet first. Peter couldn't tell what he was dragging, but it was definitely something.

"You've been awfully naughty this year," Tony teased. "Getting off on being scared. Letting boys chase you through the woods and fuck you in public." He came to a stop at the end of the bed. Peter stared at his feet, praying for him not to look down.

"I think you're due for a punishment like all naughty little boys."

He walked away from the bed. Peter almost let out a breath. Then Tony leaned down and looked under the bed.

Peter screamed.

The mask on his face was hairy like an animal. The eyes were blood red. The teeth were big and sharp. On either side of his head were horns like a goat. Peter scrambled out from under the bed, hitting his head in the process. He looked around, but the only place to go was into the en suite.

Tony was right behind him. He was grabbed before he could get his barring. Tony grabbed him by the back of his neck and pushed him forward forcing him down against the counter top. Peter reached for anything he could grab, but there was nothing but the sink.

Tony grabbed his jeans and yanked them down along with his underwear. He kicked at him and Tony grabbed his balls, not painfully but enough that he froze. Once he was still, Tony started to message them between his fingers. Peter moaned, legs spreading apart.

"Don't get too excited," Tony chuckled. "Being a whore is what got you into this mess."

"Let me go," Peter tried. He pushed against the counter.

Tony grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face up to look in the mirror. He shivered at the creepy mask. "You have to be punished first, Petey. Where's your Christmas spirit?"

Tony lifted his arm. Peter barely had time to see the thin stick in his hand before he swung it down. He gasped, pain barely registering before he struck him again. On the second hit he screamed.

"Don't be a baby," Tony mocked. "It could be so much worse."

Despite his teasing, tears formed in his eyes as Tony spanked him. He whimpered with each strike. Peter kicked his feet as it became too much. Tony forced him down with all his weight and kept going until his ass felt raw and he was gasping for breath. Then he let him go.

He realized when his pants caught on his ankles and he fell face first onto the floor. Still he kept moving, crawling away from the creature and his horrible red eyes.

"Where ya going, Pete?" Tony's voice was mocking as he followed him. They both knew he wasn't going to get far. He let him crawl all the way to the bedroom door before he pounced on him. Then Tony flipped him over and showed him what he had in his hand.

The thing he'd been dragging around was a big sack, like one Santa Claus would carry. He forced it over his head and stuffed him inside. That awful sharp toothed grin was the last thing he saw. Peter struggled, but Tony pulled the sack down to his waist and pulled the cord tight until it dug into his skin. He tied it there, trapping him. All he could do was shove uselessly against the fabric. The cord dug into his skin, not painful but tight enough to feel claustrophobic. It didn't loosen as he pushed and pulled. The best he could do was slide it down his waist and crawl further into the sack.

"You'd better calm down, sweetheart. You only have so much air in there and I still haven't finished your punishment."

Peter whimpered. "Please! Let me out!"

Tony finished stripped his lower half bare. Now that he was trapped, he took his time with him. He slapped his already raw ass, making him sob. Then he forced his legs apart. Peter gasped as he touched his cock.

"You might want me to let you out, but this little thing doesn't," Tony teased. Peter moaned as he stroked him slowly. "I think you like being kidnapped and raped by monsters."

"No please," Peter sobbed. He struggled some more and he didn't stop until something pushed against his hole.

Tony chuckled. "Such a fucking slut. Is that all it takes? I'm not even inside you yet."

Peter tried to fight again out of sheer pride, but Tony's cock pushed inside and the pleasure that coursed through him had him paralyzed. He moaned as he filled him up. He laid his head down, drooling into the fabric as Tony slowly, deliciously, pushed all the way in then all the way bad out. Then something touched his ass in a way that startled him.

"Tony?"

"Shh, just take it," he coaxed. Something much wider than Tony's cock was forcing its way inside, but that didn't make any sense because Tony was still inside him.

"Wh- what is- that," Peter choked on his own words as Tony pushed against his hole, stretching him open.

"It's a knot," Tony said. He sounded amused by his cries. "Crazy what you can find on the internet. Wanted to make sure you got the full monster fucking experience."

Finally the widest part was in and the rest followed. Peter moaned, brain completely shut down by sensation. Tony's cock was too deep, the knot was too wide, his tender ass was pressed against the floor, and a firm hand was pinning him down. He hadn't even realized he'd been struggling.

Tony moved his hips and the knot seemed stuck fast as if he might never get it back out. Tony chuckled. "Since you're trapped on my dick, might as well see that pretty face of yours." The cord loosened. Peter lifted himself up so Tony could pull the sack off.

"There are those pretty tears." Peter shivered as Tony stared down at him through the mask. He grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them over his head, leaning forward until their faces were inches apart.

The knot pushed at his hole. Peter whined, more tears coming to eyes. "Please," he sobbed.

Tony moaned, pushing the knot back in. "You're always such a perfect victim."

"It's too big," Peter gasped. Tony moved his hips and the knot pushed against his hole again. It felt way too big to come out. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten the damn thing inside him.

"Poor Petey," Tony teased. "It's not cumming out until you cum on it."

"I can't," he whined. "That mask..."

"You want me to take it off?"

"Please, Tony."

"Give it a kiss."

"What? No!" Peter gasped. Just looking at those bloody teeth made his stomach hurt.

"Kiss it," Tony said more firmly.

"No..."

"Go on. Give Krampus a kiss and I'll let you go."

Peter whined, but he lifted his head up. His whole body shuddered. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips against the rubber mouth. Tony laughed.

"That's my boy." He pulled the mask off his head and fixed his flatted hair. Tony's eyes were glittering. His smile was fiendish. "Now, where were we?"

Tony rolled his hips, fucking him deep, knot pushing at his entrance while the tip of his cock pushed into his guts. Peter moaned, eyes rolling in his head. He was lost in sensation, mouth hanging open, drool on his face, Tony cruel grin staring down at him.

"I'm gonna cum," Peter whined.

"You're such a slut," Tony chuckled. "You love being scared don't you?"

"No..."

"If you don't like it then why are you about to cum on my knot, Pete? You know Krampus eats little liars like you. Maybe I should take a bite."

Peter gasped. He could just imagine the gore of Tony tearing into him with those awful teeth. He shivered down to his toes. Then he came, straining against Tony's grip, hips bucking but the pain of Tony's knot was gone for the moment.

Tony kissed his sweaty forehead. "That's my good little victim," he purred.

Peter almost screamed as Tony forced the knot from his ass. Tears ran down his cheeks. Tony swiped his tongue over his face, licking them away. His eyes were so wild, so excited. It made his skin burn with terror because he knew Tony and he knew that look meant he wasn't getting out of this easily.

He sobbed, whimpering as Tony pushed it back in. He shivered at the sound of Tony's moan. There was one way out of the pain and overstimulation.

"Please, Tony," he begged, eyes wide and wet. "Please, it hurts..." Tony groaned and Peter bit back a smile. "Please stop, please! It's too much. You're hurting me!"

"Fuck," Tony groaned in answer. Peter only cried more as he fucked him faster. When he squeezed around him it made the pain worse but it was worth it as he watched Tony lose control, spurred on by his whimpering, by the way he struggled beneath him as if he might try to crawl away. Then he slammed his hips against him, cumming hard, leaning down to kiss Peter's lips, his jaw, his neck, frantic with pleasure.

He let go of Peter's wrists and Peter wrapped his arms around him. "I liked that game." He kissed Tony's cheek as his weight settled against him. Peter laughed. "I think you did, too."

After a moment of rest, Tony lifted his head and grinned at him. "Maybe we should go another round then."

"No, I'm so sore," Peter pouted.

"Are you trying to tempt me?" Tony nipped the side of his neck.

"No, I'm serious. You really hurt me." He stuck his lip out further to really emphasize his pout.

Tony kissed him. "You really are a perfect little fear slut." Then he laughed. "The knot still has to come out, you know."

Peter whimpered. "You're gonna be the one to call May and tell her I can't make it home tonight. Because I'm not gonna be able to walk tomorrow."

Tony was all smiles. "I fail to see the problem there, sweetheart.”

[thatbanditqueen]

Against the Wall Chapter 1

An Austin Butler 1980s Hollywood Christmas Story

This is Chapter One of a 3-part story I plan to post between now and NYE. It’s my first AB fic, my third fic ever... so be kind. I’m convinced, as always, that its... well.... not great... but whatever. I’m committed to seeing how many bars and alley ways my characters can f*&k in.... Please share/reblog if you enjoy, and let me know your thoughts!

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve 1987, and Austin finds himself at a Silverlake dive bar, where he meets the voluptuous and insecure Hannah. Both struggling to make it in the movie biz, they embark on a tumultuous relationship....

Rating: Explicit

Warning: smut, so 18+ only please, vaginal, oral, drugs, alcohol, references to toxic relationships, infidelity.

Words: 13.8 K.... the next one won’t be as long, exposition....

Playlist to keep you company as you read....

Chapter One: Bruised Bananas

 1:16 a.m. Thursday, December 24, Technically Friday morning, December 25, 1987

The Black Cat Lounge, Silver Lake

“You sure its ok for me to go, Han Han?”

Hannah leaned in, struggling to talk over the sound of Depeche Mode reverberating through the small, dark club.

“Course! I know you don’t get any in Iowa, so go have fun with Rod.”

“I think his name is Todd! OK….   maybe you’ll meet someone before closing? You’ve been working your brains out, you deserve a good Christmas fuck,” Sara looked into her friend’s eyes, and kissed her  cheek. “Call me tomorrow? I live near Abe’s, maybe I’ll stop by and say hi…”

“Yes, please, Sloan’s back from New York and she’s bringing her latest victim, I’ll need you…”

Sara nodded as she followed Rod or Todd or whatever to the door.  Hannah sipped her vodka tonic, relaxing, she felt warm and happy. The air was full of cigarette smoke, chatter and excitement. New Order’s “Bizarre Love Triangle” started and she hummed along, enjoying how the loud synth boomed through her body as she basked in the glow of the Christmas lights around the bar, the only bright spot in an otherwise almost pitch black room.  Christmas Eve girl’s night was their tradition, usually there were five or six high school friends but tonight it was the two of them. Sara was home from the Iowa Writer’s Workshop for a week, so when Rod or Tod or whatever his name had started buying them drinks, Hannah was happy for her. Sara paused and look back, eye brow arched silently confirming one last time that it was really ok to leave Hannah on her own. Hannah hoisted her thumbs up in the air and smiled broadly. Lopsidedly. Drunkenly. She rubbed her eyes, forgetting she had make up on. A fuzziness grew at the top of her head. You should go too… go pee… then leave.

There was a long line at the bathroom. This is going to take forever…..  Hannah pushed up the sleeves of her black, sequined blazer, wondering if she could make it home first. Even the thought of peeing made her want to burst.  Don’t risk pissing yourself in the cab, just be patient, get in line.  Her stomach dropped a bit when making eye contact with some of the girls leaning against the wall, looking her up and down. She suddenly felt self conscious, fat, ugly….. New year’s goal, get down to a size twelve you stupid cow. Smoothing down her tight leather mini-skirt as she shifted in place, she argued with herself, that’s just your mom talking, shut up and love your self, stupid. Then a genius idea struck, and she walked towards the men’s restroom and swung through the door, making eye contact with the solitary man washing his hands.

“Of course there’s no line, s’totally unfair, isn’t it?” She said, winking, he smiled as he left.

The relief was immediate. Hannah sat there in the stall, she had never been so happy to sit and pee quietly in a bathroom. She pulled up her fishnets, arranging herself to leave when she heard the door followed by trousers zipping open. Oh well. Boobs first, Hannah made her way to the sink, grateful for masculine bathroom etiquette, the blonde white guy at the urinal kept his eyes forward while she washed up. She dried her hands, slowly, enjoying the voyeurism of watching him shake, zip up and turn around in the mirror, unaware of her. He stopped and grinned when he noticed her, blue eyes alight with surprise.

“Whooo, hey, what’s a bathroom like you doing in a girl like this?” His voice was gravelly and his eyes laughed, drawing Hannah in, she turned toward him as he twisted the faucet. Hair combed back in a high, messy, casual quiff, his square cheekbones were an invitation. He continued talking, washing his hands, laughter in his voice.

“Either you’re the most convincing drag queen I’ve ever met, or you’re lost….”

Hannah shifted, drawn in by his warm voice, the challenge of his droll banter… she ran her hand through her curly auburn hair.

“I’m just starting the bathroom revolution, baby, if you don’t have to wait in line, neither should we.”

“Ok, Gloria Steinem,” he said slowly, extending the last “nummmm” with a flick of his tongue, mouth open, looking her up and down. A bemused smile curving in his lips. It sent a shiver up her belly and through her chest as she felt the impish tenor of his voice roll over her.  

“Ya know, you actually strike me as the sort of girl who probably spends a lot of time hanging out in men’s restrooms…. checking out the goods…. picking up dates…” 

“Ha!” Hannah’s head flew back, she weaved and steadied herself, leaning further into the counter. “You got me! That’s my plan here.” Emboldened by his smile, she leaned closer and whispered, “Tell me, is it working?” 

He brushed one of her errant curls behind her ear, looking into her eyes, and then at her breasts as they heaved up and down in her low cut silk top. Biting his lip, he dropped to her ear.

“Well, you definitely got my attention.”

The air hitched in Hannah’s throat, his breath was on her neck and she shuddered as butterflies danced through the walls of her vagina. What the fuck is happening? Is he really flirting with you? Ughhh, why are you turned on? He isn’t even your type, he looks like a stock broker…  hot, country club, beautiful yuppie scum… oh fuck it. Maybe it was the warm comfort of being drunk in a low lit room, maybe it was the thrill of being in the men’s bathroom, or maybe it was the way she could still feel the heat of his finger behind her ear. Whatever it was, Hannah broke her rule to never make the first move and drew his head down to her lips. He tasted like beer and smelled like a mix of Jasmine and amber earthiness. 

“Hey there… you’re pretty friendly for a bathroom occupying revolutionary…” he muttered, softly returning her kiss. 

Hannah’s wound her arms around him, pulling him closer.

“Don’t tell anyone but we’re all pretty easy, sex is a….” she smushed her lips against his, tugging him further down as his hands grabbed her ass, lifting her onto the sink.  “… an important part of our militant agenda… ahhh,” she moaned as he sucked at the nape of her neck, hands on top of her fishnets. 

His attention became more intense, returning to her mouth with savage, sloppy kisses, nudging his tongue in and pushing hers down before flicking the tip 

“God… you taste like strawberries…” he whispered, earnest, eager.

“That’s my …ughh… lip smackers…”

Hannah widening her legs as he pushed between them, her skirt riding up as his thumbs traced her inner thigh. She wrapped her legs around him and felt his cock stiffen. He stepped back to catch his breath and her mouth felt swollen, raw, and needy, she longed to feel his strong lips pressing back against her, owning her, compelling her to open up and bring him in. His eyes followed as his left index finger traced down the front of her shirt, slowly, grazing her breast, looking back into her eyes expectantly.

“Hey, let’s slow down….” 

Hannah’s response was dulled by the arousal vibrating between her legs, she bit her lip. 

“Hmmm….wait, what?”

“We should go back out there - dance? ”

“Ummm….”

She took a deep breathe, noting the bulge of his erection as he ran his fingers through his  dirty blonde hair, relishing how his sure hands grabbed her and tenderly lifted her off the counter .

“Unless you want to turn me around and just have your away with me here?”

“Public sex isn’t really my thing.” 

“Ah, you are more of a gentleman than I am, sir, I would have had my way with you right here and now…” Hannah winked, enjoying the blush that spread with his smile as he took her hand. She didn’t recognize herself, talking this way, the words just stumbled out of her mouth

“C’mon.” Something in Hannah’s belly curled as he grabbed her hand, his strong grip pulled her to him and she became an extension of his body, fitting neatly into the curve of his armpit, giddy as he looked down at her with a goofy grin on the way to the dance floor.

The music enveloped them as he unfurled her and moved his shoulders, swaying his hips to the sounds of Siousxie and the The Banshees. She turned and backed into him, moving in rhythm, lifting her arm to pull his mouth to her neck, rubbing her ass into his hips, turning back to wrap her hands around his neck. They moved together, awkwardly at first, then relaxing to meld in synchronicity to the beat. The slow, sad opening chords of Duran Duran’s “The Chauffeur” blared out and Hannah leaned into him.

“This is the last call song, it’s bar time.”

“Oh, cool… I need air anyway….”

Hannah moved towards the front door, then felt his hand on her shoulder,  he was nodding toward to the back exit.  Hannah pulled him into her arms as they stumbled into the alley, now he was walking her back to the brick wall across from the club, behind a set of dumpsters. She leaned into the cold surface, feeling its uneven rough ridges through the back of her thighs. The sharp sensation arousing her even more.

“What’s your name, anyway?” She asked.

“Austin…”

She whimpered as he kissed her, shallow at first and then deeply, slowly, his hands pressed on either side of her.

“I’m…. Hannah….”

“Hannah…..that’s my favorite name….”

“Liar….. “

“It wasn’t before tonight… but right now it’s… “ he kissed her neck, “the only name…” he kissed her clavicle, ”I wanna know….”

He paused, stepping back and taking a joint out. Hannah looked him over, like her, he was dressed head to toe almost entirely in black, punctuated by a metallic dark blue dress shirt that blended in with the rest in the darkness. The contrast made his blonde hair and lightly tannned skin all the more radiant. His bright blue eyes shone with lust as he lit up the joint and inhaled. Hannah reached over, taking it without asking, looking into his eyes intently as she leaning up to shot gun the smoke into his open lips.  Austin’s fingers traced the side of her cheek, down her jaw. 

“You are pretty cute, you know… for a sharp tongued broad who likes to harass men in the john.”

Hannah’s eyes sparkled as she gasped a “ha,” but he could see that his fingers  flustered her. Austin liked the idea that he was making her blush, making her speechless, smirking as her lips hung apart. The look of pure, unadulterated desire on her face made his cock hard, it had been at half mast since they left the bathroom. Her brown eyes looked up at him with awe, not demanding attention, not  expecting anything, she looked genuinely thrilled just to be there, standing in his shadow and fooling around. It had been a long time since he was with a woman who didn’t seem to demand constant flattery and praise. Austin looked back into her eyes, they seemed unsure, playful, innocent, an effect heightened by how hard she was trying to seem confident and experienced, grabbing the joint out of his hand in mock defiance. He lost himself watching her, wondering what it would be like to taste her as he took it back and sucked in another hit, savoring the strawberry lip balm that lingered on the tip of the joint. His left hand moved into the wall as he hovered over her, smiling down at Hannah. He was torn between a primal desire to protect and care for her, and pillage every orifice. The tenor of her voice and the way she seemed almost overwhelmed by their closeness on the dance floor gave him the impression she didn’t do this sort of thing with strangers often.

“So….Hannah…. nice to, uh,  meet you …” 

She smiled, a blush returning to her cheeks as her eyes fell to the ground, her hips falling further against the wall. Austin inhaled and held her chin up so he could now shotgun the smoke into her mouth. Her eyes answering his unspoken question by pressing her hands on his shoulders as she held in the hit for a few seconds, her forehead now grazing his, their noses touching. The sensation was intensely intimate, and Hannah’s expression shifted to a challenging smile as she took the joint back from him once again. Austin felt a bolt of electricity go up his spine and settle at the base of his skull, his whole body buzzed. He was transfixed, unable to break eye contact as his fingers moved up and down the voluptuous, soft curves of her hips. He loved the way her body welcomed his hands, warm, pleasant, comforting, he wanted to submerge himself into her plush bosom. His thought of his last girlfriend, all tight skin and bones, a sharp edged bird. 

Hannah’s dark curls bobbed up and down like her tits, Austin couldn’t help touching them. He pulled on a curl, watching intently as it sprang up and down, then doing the same experiment with her right breast, caressing beneath it and then lifting it up to watch it bounce. He could spend hours just watching the buoyancy of these tits heave above him. He leaned in, now his lips were again on her neck, his hands moving down her thighs, a moan escaping her mouth through the rich, exhale of smoke. She threw the joint on the ground, hands moving under his jacket, as Austin traced up her thighs. His fingers moved up her skirt, almost absentmindedly, seeking out the warmth inside her panties and between her legs. Hannah arched into him as his fingers lightly grazed the public hair at her entrance, looking up she saw uncertainty in his eyes.

“Is this ok?” His voice was low, cracked, his mouth parted. 

She nodded and he kissed along her jaw, moving  into the base of her neck, then her ear, his fingers delving between her and slowly, carefully, yet purposefully, stroking up and down over her clit, finding the moisture and using the slick to rub her in rhythm with her hip as it thrust forward. He joined her, rutting against her leg, gently sliding his index finger lower, into her cunt, gasping as he worked the tight clench, using his thumb to follow her moans, noting how she trembled most when he thumbed a half circle along the left side of her nub. She became slippery and soft, opening for him, her hands around his back, she moaned into the alley, her back rubbing against the rough bricks behind her with abandon. Shiny, black sequins from her blazer spiraled to the ground.  Austin stopped nibbling her ear, shifting above her, looking into her eyes.

“You are….. so beautiful,”  His cheeks flush, his thumb flicking back and forth, Hannah moaned out as he pushed his middle finger into her now.

“Don’t do that.” She said, looking up at him.

“Does that hurt?” He asked, pulling his second finger out, maintaining his slow, rhythmic flex.

“No, I mean what you said. Don’t talk …like that. Don’t lie to me, don’t say cheesy things because you think I need them… I don’t… I… ughh…. I don’t want you to be nice to meEEeee…”

Austin’s smiled as he felt her shudder, unable to stop her voice from trembling under his touch. Then he considered what she had said, his brows furrowing as he stopped fingering her. 

“Hey.” He moved her hand to his cock, hard and protruding through his trousers. His voice was low but firm. “I don’t like it when people tell me how I feel, or what to say…. Feel that? I’m not here saying things to be nice… you turn me on. I think you are beautiful… and I don’t care if you agree, honestly…”

She looked up at him, her large brown eyes serious. “I just can’t take it when men are…  nice to me.” She kissed his chin, her hand slowly rolling over his member. “I want you to be mean, be rough…hurt me…” 

Austin shook his head, his thumbs flicking over her nipples as he glided his hands over her breast.

“What… so you would prefer me to call you like… an ugly slut while I pound you into oblivion?”

Hannah nodded.

“Mmhmmmm.”

Austin’s bit his lip as she moved her hand, continuing to rub the outline of his cock and then pulling on his belt.

His left hand went to the base of her throat, tightening a little, then releasing as she paused.

“Sorry baby, mean and rough ain’t my thing…” he turned her around, slowly, and pressed her against the wall, she felt the cold brick against her cheek as he lips warmed her shoulder, sucking and nibbling as he slowly rolled her skirt up. Hannah gasped, moaning into the bricks, as Austin spoke, his words punctuated by each kiss to her neck. 

 “If you want me to fuck you... you’re going to have to take me….  Nice and slow…”

He arched his eyebrow as Hannah looked over her shoulder at him and nodded in assent.

“Yeah, ok pretty boy…  fuck me then….  Do you, uh, have a condom?”she asked, trembling. Hannah had never had a man treat her this way, it was the most baffling sensation, he asserted his dominance while seeming reverential. She hadn’t been with anyone since Eddie, her last serious boyfriend, and he was punishing in bed, taking pleasure in degrading her as he punched through her like a jack hammer. She felt all the blood go to her core as Austin promised to fuck her slowly, and she throbbed for him even more.

The need in her eyes made Austin momentarily unable to talk, just nod, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a condom, relief washing over him that there was one because he hadn’t planned on having sex tonight. He looked around, briefly brought out of lust’s heady daze of to put his wallet away, condom wrapper in mouth. He glanced down the alley, ensuring they were alone, even somewhat hidden from the back of the club behind the dumpsters. However, he knew anyone walking by would catch them, and the prospect both terrified and excited him. Looking back towards Hannah, he realized she was watching him ardently as he undid his trousers, letting them slide to the ground, shoving his briefs down and rolling the rubber on.

Testes pulled up in the cool night air, Austin leaned into Hannah for warmth, kissing the cushy softness of her ass, lowering her panties, swearing out with a whispered apology as he accidentally ripped her fishnets, he was so eager,  hurriedly sparked on by the arousal building in his stomach at the sight of her plump, heart shaped bottom. His hand cupped the softness and then slapped it gently, the pliant give of her cheeks tightening his erection as he halted at her entrance and slowly nudged forward, finding it still somewhat tight, yet also slick and welcoming. As he hesitated, Hannah pushed back on to him.

“I said fuck me pretty boy…” 

Austin let out a half laugh that turned into a moan as he reveled in her snug, inviting pussy, moving cautiously as he felt her soften and stretch.

“Does this feel ok?”he asked in her ear, and she nodded.

“Harder.” She called out, looking over her shoulder, seeing his mouth open in silent concentration as he surged gently into her again.

“Like I said, don’t…  tell me….” He kissed her shoulder, and grabbed her more firmly at the hips “….what do to….”

He plunged back into her, taking care to remain slow, steady, controlled, savoring how her soft hips moved back to meet him with each forward movement, never fully leaving her warm cunt as he burrowed deeper and deeper, opening her further up to him with every thrust. His right hand moved from her waist to her shoulder, as he pushed her harder against the rough surface of the wall without realizing it, fixated on kissing her neck, then just on breathing as he began to pump into her with slightly more force and speed.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He growled into her ear, she moaned back loudly, then his head fell forward into her back.

“Mmhmmm….. oh god….”

“Hey, let me know when you are close, ok?” He panted.

Hannah gasped, heaving. Just tell him, tell him, you don’t cum during sex… But she couldn’t, she didn’t want to discourage him, ruin the mood, stop him from continuing his steady thrusts that felt so good she planned to think of them later, alone, touching herself. So she nodded, gasping out “Okkkk…”

Austin pushed her further into the wall, increasing his rhythm.

“Ughhh, let me know if I’m hurting you, ok…?”

“No… this is good, I’m umMM… good” she said meaning it, but followed with a lie. “I’m getting close.”

His head fell into her back and he kissed her blazer. Her rough, scratchy, sequined blazer. He kissed it over and over again, as he grabbed at her side, her waist, her neck, his other hand pushing the wall over her shoulder for balance. Hannah felt the pebbly indentation of the bricks gouging into her own hands, too distracted by the pummel of him inside her to notice the pain. Desperate moans escaped her lips, she focused on the crush of Austin’s frame into her, shuddering as she pushed backwards into his insistent lunge. Reveling in the sensation of his hands brushing away the hair at her neck to kiss her, the rhythm of his cock plunging into her, the sounds of his breath, the firm yet considerate lilt of his voice. She moaned out loudly, trying to summon the sound of convincing orgasm, leaning back into him, and crying out. 

He followed a few minutes later with his own exclamation, breathing out a succession of “oh gods” in a low, frantic howl, heaving in and out several more times, then grabbing her hips to stop, extracting himself gently, holding her at her waist, kissing her neck one last time. Hannah leaned forward against the wall, catching her breath as she heard him tie off the condom and throw it over the top of the dumpster, then zip up his pants. His sweet, steady manner was jarring in comparison to her previous lovers. The ache of the rough, sharp bricks against her face and hands suddenly begin to set in, but her legs wobbled slightly and she leaned back to the wall to steady herself, a few after shock twitches as she tried to move. He took off his jacket and used it to wipe between her legs, carefully bringing her underwear and most of her stockings back over her bum as lightly as he could, smoothing her skirt down. Hannah rolled against the wall to turn around, still panting, and took in the satisfied, foolish grin on Austin’s face.

“Hey…” he murmured, his lips pursed together as they curled, his fingers brushing her hair out of her face, taking her hand, kissing the back of her wrist. “This is… crazy…I’ve… I’ve never done anything like this.”

Hannah inhaled deeply, tucking her shirt in.

“What, sex in public?”

“Yeah, s’not really my thing. And with a stranger. A crazy one who tried to make me hate fuck her….”

Hannah’s cheeks reddened.

“Yeah… I usually can’t get it up for nice guys… right? Ugh, gag me with a spoon….  I just don’t go in for the ‘oh baby you’re so beautiful’ routine….”

“Too bad, because baby…. you are so beautiful…”

“Just stop … ”

“What’s your deal?”

“Look, I know I’m ok, maybe cute, but I can’t stand it when guys exaggerate… I’m no super model... I actually have one in my family…. so I know what beautiful is…”

“Well… I’ve dated girls like that… Trust me, they ain’t all they’re cracked up to be. Petty, dramatic, high maintenance, no sex drive because they are STARVing? No…  I actually think I prefer having something soft to hold onto… ” He leaned down to kiss the top of her cleavage.

Despite her best efforts to stay cool and aloof, a genuine smile beamed through Hannah’s face as she swatted him away from her boobs and guffawed.

“Stop.”

Austin paused, leaning above her, blazer slung over his shoulder. Hannah eyed it, thinking how he used it to wipe away her sweat and slick, how much it would cost to dry-clean. Although, something about Austin gave her the impression he didn’t worry about dry-cleaning bills. He probably grew up in a big, expensive house, going to private schools, belonging to a country club. Suddenly self conscious, she wiped under her eyes.

“I must look like a mess…”

“A beautiful mess…”

“Ok, seriously, stop… you’re the beautiful one, pretty boy, really…”

Hannah soaked in the warmth of his breath, and trembled looking up into his eyes. He searched her face, an inquisitive look spreading he glanced down the alley.

“Hey, let’s go back to your place.”

“What? Why? I don’t even know you….”

A “ha!” escaped Austin’s mouth, floating up into the dark Christmas Eve sky. “Are you kidding me ? I was just inside you…”

“Well…”

“Look, I’m staying with a friend who lives down the street… we can’t go back there, I actually came here because he was fighting with his girlfriend… So we’re going back to your place… I’m not finished with you yet.”

“What?”

“You didn’t cum…Tell me I’m wrong?”

She stuttered. “It doesn’t matter, we both had fun…”

“ ‘It doesn’t matter…’ is definitely a no… “

“You don’t owe me anything…. It’s late, and I’m actually" Hannah stopped as a yawn escaped her lips “ quite tired…”

His lips turned into a mischievous smile. “I do owe you, and I always settle my debts… I might be more of a feminist then you are… female orgasms are my favorite…” He raised his fist and pumped it to the sky, laughing at her eye roll.

“OK,” he continued, “This is ridiculous, shut your pretty face and let’s go already.” 

Austin winked as he whisked her next him, putting his arm around her as he walked them down to the end of the alley and into a cab. 

———

A simple framed poster for Some Like it Hot in Italian greeted Austin as he followed Hannah into her small, second story studio apartment awash in film posters, art, dirty coffee cups and empty beer cans.

“It’s a mess, sorry, when I’m not working I’m sleeping…. Can I make you some tea?” She asked, an anxious energy in her voice as she turned around, slipping off her shoes and blazer. Grabbing a hair clip from the kitchen bar that clearly doubled as a filing cabinet, rolodex and table, Hannah pinned up her sweaty, curly hair. 

He shook his head. “So, what do you do? You know… when you aren’t seducing men in alleys?”

“Ha! You are fucking hilarious… that was also my first time doing anything like that…” 

She grabbed his hand as he tried to pull her back into an embrace, turning to the sink, filling a glass with water.

 “I’m an editor….  film editor…. I’m working a few so-so jobs right now but.. I’m working on my networking skills…”

“Oh, so you're in the biz?”

“Yeah… yeah… you?”

“Yeah, actually, I’m an actor..”

“No... no! You seem too nice for an actor… too smart…”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone knows actors are just empty vessels… vain stupid empty vessels…  they are the worst…. I’ve never met one who wasn’t a complete asshole. Think they’re the most important part of a movie… don’t understand the real artistry is the invisible stuff….”

“Like editing?” He grinned.

“Yes! Editing, writing, sound, camera work… everything else! Editing makes the movie… s’what puts the story together, otherwise it would 100s of hours of different takes out of order…. All actors have to do is show up and let other people dress them and do their hair and feed them their lines…. Ugh, I hate actors.”

Austin grabbed Hannah and pulled her onto his lap as he sat on her orange, leather arm chair, the only place he could see to relax, and kissed her with a smile.

“Ok, ok, I give in, you win, actors are slime and editors are unappreciated artistes…”

She put her arms around his neck.

“Hmm, see, you are smart…. For an actor… So, Austin, you been in anything I would have heard of?”

“Not unless you’ve been watching a lot of NYU student films….”

“Oh no, you’re not still in college, are you?”

“No, I graduated last year, just been living in New York, going out on auditions, I’ve had a few bit parts off broadway…”

“Anything promising.” She watched his face light up.

“Yeah, actually…” he looked down coyly, “I just scored a part in Sydney Pollack’s next movie, I’m moving back out here for it. My agent said its already opening up more  auditions… s’really exciting, actually…”

Hannah paused, her hand ran through his hair.

“Wow, Austin…  Pollack, good for you…. Wait, you said you are moving ‘back’?”

“Yeah, I actually grew up in Anaheim….”

“Oh no, you’re an actor AND you’re from Orange County?” She leaned into his neck all mock agony.

“What? What’s wrong with Orange County?”

“Everything… I know all I need to know…  next you’re gonna tell me you voted for Reagan… wait, don’t….”

“What’s wrong with Ronald Reagan” he laughed, taking her head in his hands and kissing her nose. “You are such a fucking fuss budget, you crack me up….” Drawing her head next to his, mussing her hair, looking up at the art on her wall, absentmindedly kissing her forehead.

Hannah embraced the pleasant comfort of Austin’s arms, looking at his profile, noticing the way his hair seemed to fall into a disheveled coiff yet still seemed effortlessly sexy. I’m lucky I met you before you were in a movie… who knows the next time you’ll have a one night stand with an average girl…. She flicked the bottom of his earlobe, and he turned toward her. 

“Wanna fool around?” He asked her and she gently slapped the side of his cheek with her hand.

“Don’t you get tired? It’s almost 4 … we should set up the bed…. I probably smell amazing,” sarcasm dripped from her tongue. “But honestly I can’t be arsed to shower.”

Austin moved his hands underneath her knees and around her shoulder, lifting her up, smelling her crotch, armpits, hair as she giggled and shrieked.

“Smell fucking amazing… you smell like fun….”

Hannah jumped up, extending her hand to lead him to bed. Which was standing upright on the wall of the living room.

“Wow, a Murphy bed? I’ve never actually seen one of these in-person…”

“Yeah, they don’t have these in Orange County, do they? I’m guessing my apartment could fit into one of your mansion’s bathrooms…” He shoved her shoulder with a ha ha ha as she kept talking. “This apartment was built in the ‘30s. It’s small, but it’s all I can afford and it’s only 15 minute over the hill into Burbank.”

“Oh, are you working at Warner?”

“No, I’m free lancing it, I’m at a little post house, we do a lot of Disney’s stuff…”

“Wow, look at you….” An expression of respect formed on his face as he watched her pull the bed down. He knew a few editors from his program at NYU, they were all dudes. Every editor he’d ever heard of was a dude. His own brief experience learning basic editing in a required class had shown him how much he detested that kind of work, he was not cut out for the grinding, thankless schedule of postproduction and the patient attention to detail it demanded.

“The sheets are dirty —“

“S’all good with me —“

“I guess I should change…”

Austin moved toward her, she froze in silence as his hands slowly untucked her shirt and lifted it over her head as she shifted, a nervous laugh startling out of her throat. She looked up at him, dazzled by his attention, soaking in his reverence as the back of his fingers trailed over her naked belly, turning her around as he kissed her back and unclasped her bra. Throwing it to the side, he turned his attentions to unzipper her skirt, bring her back to face him as he pulled her skirt down with her fishnets and panties to the floor, kissing the smooth skin over her plump belly,settling on his knees to lift her feet one-by-one as he gently took her clothes off. He drew her down to the edge of the bed, looking into her eyes.

“There, I think you’re ready for bed…..”

“Ha….” She said, almost breathless, pushing up on his shoulders. “I need to brush my teeth…” she patted him on the head, ambling to her little bathroom, looking back over her shoulder to see him watching after her naked bottom with a happy, dazed look on his face.

——-

12:05 p.m.  Friday morning, (Technically it had been afternoon for six minutes)  December 25, 1987

It was when Austin tossed into her and began snoring on the top of her head that Hannah woke up, finding his left hand cupping her breast from under her shirt. She lay there for ten minutes, enjoying the cozy warmth of his body as it spooned into her. The hard dagger of his morning wood jabbing in her ass made her sizzle, she hadn’t even really gotten a good look at it in the dark, but she knew it was a girthy bugger from slight soreness that lingered between her legs. His embrace was wonderful, but she couldn’t bear Austin’s snoring, it got increasingly louder and made her cracking hangover unbearable. How the fuck can someone so hot make these unholy sounds? Despite her best efforts to disentangle herself without waking him, she saw his eyes blink open as she held his arm, hesitating to find the best place to put it. His hand grasped hers and kissed the back of her palm, groggy, half asleep, he rubbed his eyes.

“Hey…. beautiful…” a sunny smile greeting her as he gathered her from behind back into his arms, smushing his lips into the curve of her neck.

“Hmm…. beautiful, huh…  forget my name?” She asked, turning inward to look at him with a teasing grin. He planted a strong peck on her lips. 

“Oh Hannah, I wasn’t that drunk… you know athletic activity helps keep the mind alert when drinking…” Austin wiggled his eye brows.

“Oh it does, huh? That is some bullshit…”

He smiled as he kissed her again, now hovering over her, her hips sideways against him. The unmistakable bulge of his cock against her ass. 

“It does…. I remember everything….. so, why are you so feisty this morning?” He said, gazing at her breasts. “Oh, right, now I remember… I still owe you a —"

“Austin ha! No… you don’t owe me anything—“

He put his finger to her mouth.

“Shhhhh….  Trust me, I’ve slept with more women than you, most girls don’t cum during sex… at least at first with me … ” he winked, his lips returning to their home on her neck.

“Oh? And how many women are we talking about here? What’s your sample size?”

Austin sighed, and stopped moving his hand up her thigh, settling back and leaning into her shoulder, his hands snaking around to grasp her tightly.

“Do you really want to know?”

“What do you mean?”

“How many?”

“I was just questioning your research methods,” Hannah turned to kiss his cheek, looking up into his eyes, a nervous laugh escaping “I’m just joking around….  I don’t know anything about you, I don’t know your last name, I don’t know how old you are…  last night was fun but…I’m a big girl, I know how this ends….  I don’t expect you to share your ...” she kissed his chin and flicked hair out of his eyes “... life history with me.” Hannah kissed him on his lips, and rolled over to get up. He pulled her back to him.

“Hey! Where do you think you are going… “

“To make coffee?”

“Oh no you don’t… ” he leaned in to kiss her again, barely detaching his mouth to mutter in-between soft, sloppy pecks to her lips. “My last name is Butler,” smush, “I’m 23,” smish, “I don’t do a lot of one night stands…." smash “I’m kind of a serial monogamist…” smosh “I’ve had … let’s see … three serious girlfriends …” smush, “and a handful of on-again-off-again casual relationships…a few one-time things, ” smash, “but I actually like good sex…” smosh, “and I find sex is just better when you get to….” smush, “know someone’s body…” he finished with a wink, brushing his fingers along her face. Each kiss sent a bolt of electricity down Hannah’s spine, and she sighed when he stopped, running her index finger lazily along his bare shoulder.

“Do you know how many people you have slept with? Like ever?“

“Probably around 25… counting everything… Do you? Do you keep a list or just use a bathroom turnstile or what?” Hannah let out a laugh, and shoved him as he grinned, kissing her neck, and working his way lower, trying to lift off her shirt. Flames ran up through her torso but she swatted him away. Folding his arms on top of her belly, he rested his head and looked up at her.

“Your turn….” He slapped her thigh. “Full name?”

“Hannah… Rosenfeld…. 24… Leo….  two serious boyfriends … I’ve probably slept with about 10 people, total.”

“And how many of them made you cum?”

Hannah looked up at him, blushing, and turned to talk into the pillow.

“I can’t talk about this with someone I only just met…”

She rolled off and went to the kitchen area. Austin pushed up in bed and watched her. 

“Why not? It’s perfectly normal and natural.”

Hannah looked at him over the kitchen counter as she filled her kettle with water. 

“It’s…  it’s complicated …”

Austin got up and walked over, taking the kettle out of her hands, gliding his fingers up and down her sides. Hannah quivered, leaning back into the counter, hands pushed against the hard laminate surface, she breathing louder and louder as his fingers moved to her panties, his muscular abs grazing over her breasts, his mouth hovering over her ear as he spoke softly, deeply.

“S’not complicated…”

He kissed under her ear, his hands worked inside her underwear, brushing over her, before moving down on his haunches to take them off, kissing the soft woolly patch at the apex of her legs. Hannah gasped as he rose and grabbed her by the waist, hoisting her up on the counter as she snorted.

“Austin..” She hit his arm. “What are you doing?”

He shushed her, putting his fingers into her mouth, and then bringing them between her folds. Hannah felt a tension building in her stomach, her chest began to ache and she inhaled deeply as he parted her thighs wide, a serious look on his face as he returned to her eyes.

“Just …relax….”

“But I ——“

His lips were soft as he kissed her, stroking the flame that was growing in her core, feeling the wetness that was developing.

“Please…I fucking love doing this….” 

Hannah gasped and nodded, watching him lower himself onto the floor, the thought that his quads were incredibly strong for someone so skinny passed through her mind. It was quickly gone as she heard him moan approvingly, fingers parting her outer lips.

“Good, you are so damn beautiful…” 

She laughed, vibrating at the way he enunciated each syllable in bee -ut - a - fulll. Playfully slapping the side of his head, they exchanged a lusty glance as he looked up at her with a devious smile, then resumed his attention to her pussy. Hannah’s eyes squeezed shut and she fell back on her elbows as Austin leaned forward kissing her inner thighs, enjoying the whimpers emerging from her mouth as he rubbed her center with his thumb. Making his way in, one soft kiss at time, he put her legs over his shoulders and opened her further with his hands.  

He smiled as her back arched and bit his lip, then leaning in to flick her lightly with his tongue, back and forth. The sensation was almost too intense on her clit, and Hannah called out in-between moans, embracing the tingling feeling growing in her depths as he moved the tip of his tongue in circles around her. Burrowing further, he nudged her clit up and down with his nose as he kissed and laved her entrance, then turned back to her pulsating round nub. Hannah called out indecipherable words as his tongue darted up and down the left side of her clit, long and slow, then shifting to lick across in quick, short staccato movements. She twitched as she felt the warm breath of his mouth on her nub, then thrusting forward as his right index finger slide into her and crooked up, gently swirling until Hannah jolted up with a cry. Austin paused and looked up at her, finger inside her but stilled.

“Uh, yeah… I just ….”

“Hmmm…. I feel like Columbus, did I just discover Hannah’s G spot…?”

“Columbus was a genocidal ….” She breathed out, chest heaving. “maniac….  But…. I do think you are …on to something…”

Austin laughed, and Hannah smiled at his blissed out eyes and goofy smile, his chin covered in her slick.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No…” she whispered.

“What was that?”

“No please god….. don’t stop…. Don’t ever stopppp” Hannah called out, trembling as she felt the hum of his self satisfied laugh against her clit, the feel of his index finger pushing in and out of the spongy, soft bundle of nerves inside her walls caused her to spasm uncontrollably. The more slippery she became, the more acutely she felt each stroke of Austin’s pointed tongue beckoning her into oblivion. The contrast between the light flicks of his tongue and the firm, forceful movements of his fingers drove her over the edge. A heat began to violently develop inside her core and Hannah screamed out as euphoric wave after wave spread through her pussy outward to her thighs and up through her belly button. Austin continued to press her clit gently with his thumb as he fell back on his shins, enraptured by the way her face contorted into a look of painful ecstasy.

“Uhhh. Stop…. Enough… I can’t ….” 

He laughed, gripping her thighs as he stood, wiping her dampness along his wrist, kissing her, stroking the sides of her legs. Hannah faltered trying to push up on her elbows against the counter, her arm hit the faucet, splashing water on them and into the sink. Austin stood between her as she pushed it off, stroking her thighs.

“Oh god…” she wiped her brow, tasting herself on his lips with a soft kiss.

“You ok?”

“Mmmhmmm….”

A soft, sweaty glow radiated across Hannah’s face, she grinned at the stiffness of Austin’s cock against her thigh. She worked his briefs down, glancing up to see the fierce need within his eyes, his lip parted as she brought him to her entrance at the edge of the kitchen counter, inhaling as he sunk into her slowly, feeling the pinch, the soreness from last night all but gone. He stopped, not moving as she thrust up into him. Austin gasped sharply, his length fully within her. His hands at her hips, he moved his right hand up to cup her face.

“Hey… I don’t have any more condoms.” He said, thrusting back slowly, and then forward a little, moaning. “Ahhh god, you feel so amazing…. But … we should stop.” 

Hannah leaned back, arms over his shoulders, uttering a frustrated grunt.

“I definitely don’t have any condoms either… fuck… you could just pull out… “ she offered, bringing him back into her, arching her hips into him, relishing the sound of his “fuckkkkk” as he stretched her open.

“Are you on the pill?”

She shook her head, “No, I just got off in August… dry spell… figured I’d just use condoms and go back on if I started dating someone… fuck…” She didn’t share the real reason, how she thought it would be easier to loose weight off the pill. She didn’t want to break whatever spell made this handsome, too handsome, man think she was fuckable.

“OK, yeah… let’s stop… I gotta go to a Christmas thing…. and fuckkk… ok…. we should .. definitely stop… ” 

“Hmm… I don’t… want … to either… but … I have ... same …”

Austin paused, just standing there, still buried to the hilt in Hannah. He kissed her, deepening with each one, tightening his embrace as Hannah whimpered. He looked down into her eyes.

“I want to see you again.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow?”

“I have a thing…”

“After?”

“Maybe….”

“Take you out… like on a date….”

“Ok.” Her voice was soft and breathy.

He pulled out of her, slowly, evincing a deep moan.

“I’m going to go buy the biggest box of condoms….” He promised, smiling into her with another kiss.

Hannah laughed, putting her hand around his dick, feeling her slick lubricating him as she tugged.

“I could still get you off?” She offered, puckering her mouth with a loud POP.

He looked over at the clock, it was 1:30.

“Fuck, god… but… ughhhh…. its ok… I’m a big boy… and I gotta jet,  I have two different parties I have to go to, and I’m already gonna be late…”

Hannah traced the ridges of the corded muscles along his abs, nodding, knowing she also needed to shower and get ready for her day. He helped her off the counter, kissing her, and  moving to find his clothes.

“So, what are you up to? Rosenfeld…. does your family celebrate Christmas?” Austin was on the ground looking for his pants.

“My uncle does, for his wife, they’re having a big party.” She leaned into the sink, watching as he searched for his clothes, now sitting on the bed, buttoning his shirt, pulling on trousers.

“Oh, do you have a big family?”

“No… he just knows a lot of people…. It’s just me and my dad here in LA…. ”

“Ohh… “ he smiled, as he bent to pull on his black slip on shoes. “Your pop meeting you there?”

Hannah shifted, running her hand through her hair.

“Um, no, he and my uncle don’t really talk….  s’a long story…. the short version is,  my dad’s an editor too… like a sound editor, he and my uncle started out together, my uncle’s a ... uh... a producer… they both came out here, found some success… and, well, about twelve years ago my uncle agreed to invest in my dad’s business idea, a full service sound design company … then.. well, my aunt convinced him not to at the last minute.. the whole thing kind of tore our family up….”

Hannah inhaled, and stopped talking. She didn’t tell him how her father had dealt with the devastation of defaulting on his loan by drinking. Heavily. How her mom ran off to San Francisco and then back to London, to her family, to get away, leaving 12 year old Hannah there. Which was ok, if she’d had to choose, she had always been closer to her father anyway. But things got messy, her father had made the horrible decision to restart his life buying a trailer in Malibu, in a small, unofficial retirement park full of nosy old people. Hannah had to transfer from her crunchy, alternative artsy private school to Santa Monica High, the nearest public school to where they now lived. Suddenly her commute to school went from 10 minutes to an hour, and that was probably the easiest part of high school. Pot, ice cream, music and her small coterie of friends had made survival possible until she escaped to college. Things were better now, her dad was three years sober in AA, working intermittently, though mainly non-union, TV and straight to video stuff. Hannah longed to buy him a big house, set him up, let him rest, he had been grinding for thirty years. She wanted to free him, help her father move on from his disappointed, disoriented life adrift these last ten years. Hannah stopped, feeling she had overshared.

She took in Austin’s look of warm sympathy, his low “Oh… wow…”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to get heavy… but.. no, I won’t see him today… we have a tradition, we swim in ocean at dawn on New Year’s day, so I’ll drive out to his place in Malibu and see him then…. But, uh, yeah, I like started trying to mend things with my uncle about two years ago.. ha…. You know, after I graduated from UCLA and started looking for work…. My uncle is a producer… I guess I am shamelessly trying to use him….”

Austin walked over, putting his hands around Hannah.

“That’s how this business is, I’d do the exact same thing - you have to use every advantage you have, because it’s not about how good you are…. It’s about who you know…”

————

5 p.m. 

The sounds of the party downstairs floated up to the guest room where Hannah had snuck off to call her friend Sara, excitedly running through the events of the last 24 hours.

“It’s like, a Christmas miracle babe… I might actually start liking this fucking holiday… When can you get away? Come meet me here, and we can go get a drink at Barney’s… I wanna hear all about Rod Todd.”

“Yes…. It’s definitely Todd, and I don’t think my night was as exciting as your’s… Give me another hour or so and I’m there…” Sara promised. 

Hannah smiled, she had been grinning all day, hearing Austin’s voice every where she went. If she squeezed her legs she could almost imagine feeling him between them as he asked to see her again, his hard length still inside her. She straightened her white blouse walking downstairs, she even smiled at the sound of the Vienna boys choir as she ordered a glass of red wine at the bar, nodding and making small talk with some of the other people there. The guests were mostly from Paramount where her uncle was Vice President of Development, but there was an assortment of people from other studios, talent agencies, competitors and random acquaintances. Right now, Hannah was learning how her uncle’s accountant had walk-on roles in several films last year. Hannah guessed over a hundred people were wandering around the party throughout the downstairs and back yard of her aunt and uncle’s vast Bel Air mansion. 

A caterer walked by with bacon wrapped scallops, and Hannah had only popped one her mouth when her younger cousin Nathan ran up and grabbed her hand.

“Mfph… caor-ful nat-tin,” she swallowed, steadying. “Wheww, I almost spilled my wine.”

“Mom said to come find you, Sloan just arrived with her boyfriend, she wants a family photo.”

“Ok, ugh, how do I look?” Hannah asked, brushing off Nathan’s hand as she followed him to the front of the house. “Oh, how much of an arrogant douche is this one?”

“I can’t tell, he looks like he could go other way..”

Hannah laughed and then stopped in her tracks as they rounded the hallway, the air left her throat and she jumped back, startled, her hand jerking back and spilling red wine all over her white blouse, her purse dropping to the ground.

“FUck fuck fuck…” she whispered, as she bent down to grab it. You are insane, every where you go, every voice you hear, you think it’s fucking Austin. But as she stood up, she saw Austin’s horrified face looking back at her, her thin, gorgeous cousin Sloan hanging on his arm. Her model cousin Sloan. Her 20 year-old model cousin Sloan. Sloan’s mouth agape in a shocked laugh as her aunt ran over, the British accent made her voice all the more shrill.

“Hannah, oh god, did you get any wine on the carpet? Dear dear, now we’ll have to wait to do the photo… Abe, ABE!  Get Gigi out of the kitchen for me…”

Hannah trembled, putting her glass on the nearest side table, thankful all the wine had spilled on her shirt, and none had landed on the pure, white carpet. She closed her eyes, wishing to be anywhere else as her aunt turned her around and started walking them away from the group, looking back to yell.

“Please excuse me, Austin, it was so nice to see you again. I have to go get my clumsy niece sorted out…  Sloan, show him around, won’t you? We’ll do the photo later….” She moved Hannah forward. “What am I going to do with you, Hannah? I just hope we can find something that fits… maybe one of Abe’s dress shirts… oh, I think I have an oversized holiday sweater that will work.”

Hannah looked at herself in the mirror of her aunt and uncle’s master suite. A large, oversized ugly bright red Christmas sweater dwarfed her body, almost completely covering her blue mini-skirt. She fell back onto the large, soft bed, arms spread, doom enveloping her. She felt the hairspray on her dirty hair crunch. Of course. You knew he was too good to be real. Maybe you imagined last night … maybe he was just a figment of your delusional mind…. ? Wallowing in self pity, the sound of the door disturbed her from her reverie.

“It’s ok, Elaine, I’m coming - I just need a moment…”

“Hannah?” 

She jolted up at Austin’s voice, watching from across the room, arms crossed, eyes glaring as he closed the door.

“Fuck off….”

“Hannah, it’s not what you think.”

“Oh?”

“No, look… Sloan and I broke up last week… she just… I just… she asked if I would come do this one last thing as a couple… it meant a lot not to tell her mom right now… I was gonna be out here anyway…"

Hannah looked down as he strode over, backing away as he tried to embrace her, wiping the tears at her eyes.

“Don’t…”

“Please, don’t be like this… fuck… this is the most unreal fluke … ya guys don’t even have the same last name…”

“We do have the same last name,  Rosenfeld is too ugly for a model, too Jewy, Sloan shortened it to Rose when she moved to New York after high school … ”

“Hannah.” He stepped closer. “C’mon, it was an honest mistake.”

“Ok, so if it’s not such a big deal, why didn’t you mention this morning that you had to pull out of me to go take your ex-girlfriend to her family’s Christmas party? …. It’s all about who you know, isn’t Austin? Tell me. ” Hannah jeered, wiping more tears away. “Is Abe producing the film you’re in?”

Austin growled, fighting off her swats and grabbing her by the shoulders, holding her still. He wanted to choke her and fuck her into submission and comfort her all at once. The fear and anger in her eyes caused him to back off.

“Just stop, ok, you’re not being fair… " he relaxed his grip, Hannah went slack and fell into his arms. “Oh Hannah…  I’m sorry… you’re right… Sloan… we really are broken up… but … it did feel weird meeting up with her... today…. after last night… this is… gnarly…. but I like you…  I still wanna see you again, is that so crazy?” 

He took her by the chin, gently, looking into her face, searching for recognition. Her expression tensed, a stony smile formed as she pushed him away.

“Here’s the thing, Austin. Babe. There’s a girl code. Friends, cousins, their exes are off limits.”

As her feet padded down the stairs, Hannah almost ran out the door as Wham’s “Last Christmas” came over the sound system. Landing with a thud, instead, she stalked over to the bar and ordered two double vodka tonics, downing one after the other, then grabbing a glass of egg nog from the punch bowl and liberally spiked it with rum. Pacing across the room, she saw Austin come down, her mind now racing to form an escape plan, only to disintegrate inside as she watched Sloan approach her, arm around an enthusiastically smiling Sara.

“Hannah, thank god you are all cleaned up, look who I found on the front doorstep?” 

Hannah inwardly groaned, as Sloan waved Austin over, continuing.

“Hey, why don’t we all go downstairs to the den? We might find some snow after all out here in sunny California…” Sloan snaked her other arm through Hannah’s as she tried to protest.

“Hey Sloan, Sara and I have to be some—"

“I don’t mind.” Sara chimed in. 

“Don’t be silly Han Han…. Austin, bring that hot bod over here…” Sloan commanded, leading them around the house to the downstairs den, a dark room with the largest TV in the world. 

No one was around, and Sloan plopped down on the couch, opening her purse to pull out a mirror and a small coin purse, from which emerged a little baggie of white powder. Expertly lining rails of coke, Sloan paused to look up. Austin slowly went over to join her, and Sara sat on her other side.

“Are you partaking Hannie?”

“Is everyone else?”

“Why not…” Sara sighed.

Austin eyes caught Hannah’s, as she nodded. “Then yes, please…”

“What’s with you Hannah, anyway?” Sloan mumbled, rolling up a $100 bill. 

“Hannah met someone last night…” Sara giggled.

“Really?” Sloan arched her eye brow, and snorted two lines, handing it to Austin, who shook his head slightly, muttering why not as he leaned in.

“I don’t really —“

“She really likes him…. What did you say? He was the sexiest guy you ever met? Ever?” 

Hannah shot Sara a dirty look, trying to communicate that she would kill her if she uttered one more word.

“What?”

Walking over, Hannah sat across them below the coffee table, taking two rails up the nose, sniffing hard as the taste hit the back of her throat. 

“I’m so happy for you Han Han…” Sloan turned to Austin, who coughed as she explained, “My cousin has dated some real losers….” 

“That’s not true…” Sara feebly added.

“What happened to Billy from last year?” Sloan asked.

Hannah responded through gritted teeth. “Billy is my very gay, very single, good friend.”

“Oh, well, we were all just glad that psychopath was out of the picture…”

“Psychopath?” Austin murmured. Hannah shot him the look of death, running her hand through her hair, tapping the mirror for Sloan to put more blow out. 

“Eddie.” Sara added, as Hannah formed the powder into more lines, and snorted. “He was the worst, I’m sorry Hannah, but he was.”

Sloan nodded, “Yeah, oh boy… what ever happened to him?”

“His band went on tour with Minor Threat and he cheated on me… what can I say, I seem to attract losers, gays and cheaters.” She raised her eyebrow, looking Austin straight in the eyes, and then stood up.

“So Han Han, still editing The Mickey Mouse Club …?” Sloan swiped more coke out with her finger, smearing it on the inside of her gums.

“I think she’s actually editing all the Disney original TV shows right now, right?” Sara tried to break the awkward silence following Sloan’s condescending tone.

“I think I’m gonna head out, Sara?” Hannah’s voice was curt, Sara nodded, and joined her, a bewildered look as she followed Hannah out to her car. Aunt Elaine never got a family photo that day, and Hannah filled in her friend as they drove to the bar and proceeded to get very, very, very drunk, swearing off men forever.

Forever lasted about five hours.

Hannah left her car in Westwood Village. The second thing she saw after she fell out of her cab, feeling her sheer black stockings rip, badly, as she stared at the pavement laughing at the cruel joke we call life, was a pair of white, leather dress oxfords at the base of white pants. Very similar to the ones Austin had been wearing earlier that day. She heard the cab door close, and an Austin-like voice ask what he owed, before strong hands came under her arm pits and tried to pull her up.

“Fuck off … I’ve got it all unner controllll” she rolled away, laying flat on her back, feet slumped over the curb. Austin walked between her knees, his cool eyes looked down at her.

“I told Sloan about last night.”

Hannah blinked, rolling up on her elbows.

“What? Why would Sloan tell you ’bout last night?”

“You are such an idiot.” Austin sighed, looking up at the stars, laughing to himself and shaking his head as he looked back down at Hannah, drunk, a confused expression hovering above the large Christmas sweater, black tights torn across both thighs, blue mini skirt askew. He mused to himself that it looked like two rats had fought in her hair. The ridiculous spectacle made his cock stir even more, he couldn’t explain why. “Give me your keys, we can talk upstairs.”

Hannah pushed herself up, swatting his hands away, then promptly dropping the keys as they came out of her pocket.

“You gave me bruises, ya know, gonna call you Bruiser…”

“What?” 

“Yeah… s’ its your hips…. Yer too fuckin’ skinny…. I’ve some light bruising on my ass, Ssssara confirmed this for me in the powder room at the skey lub.”

“Ski Club?”

“Klee Clunk”

“Oh, right, the Key Club… oh boy, how many places did you guys hit?”

“Ev’ry place…. And I can’t believe you gave me bruises with your stupid sharp skinny sips…”

“Ok, babe, duly noted.” Austin laughed, shaking his head further, grabbing her keys and sweeping Hannah over him as she started to stumble forward, carrying her up the stairs over his shoulder, getting her cleaning and falling asleep next to her for the second night in a row.

————

January 1988 - July 1989 

It started out casually enough, neither one wanting to ask the other what they were doing, avoiding talking about what this relationship was. In fact, they barely spoke for the first few months, their lips otherwise occupied as they were drawn to each other by the magnetic attraction that only grew in intensity each time they laid eyes on one another. On the first three dates, they couldn’t even get out the door before the graze of an arm over a chest or the kiss of lips saying hello on a cheek would become the catalyst for heaving, sweating, swearing, groaning, primal, squelching, slapping, bruising, choking, senseless, neighbors-banging-on-the ceiling, wall, floor, fucking. Usually followed by a session of panting on the bed, leather chair or kitchen floor, exhausted and conceding that they should just order delivery. And then commanding a repeat performance once their energy returned.

“So…” Austin moaned, in flagrante, after date number two had been derailed by Hannah’s fingers brushing lint off Austin’s sweater.  “Am I really the sexiest man you ever met?”

“Ughhh… shut the fuck up… I was hung over… clearly brain damaged from the alcohol… just be quiet and fuck me, you ugly sod …”

“If I’m so ugly, why’d ughhh… keep me around?”

“Imma a slut for uggos… you’re all so insecure you compensate with that tongue …. *moan*… its the low self esteem….  plus you got me hooked fucking me from behind… didn’t have to see that fucked up mug… ”

Every time Hannah sighed or looked at him with her big doe eyes, his lips would part in awe and his cock would propel him forward, his mouth seeking out her pleasure like a beacon being guided home. Finally they agreed they had to meet in public if they ever wanted to successfully leave her apartment, so he would pick her up at work and take her out, undeterred by her protests that it was too expensive as he arrived at the valet stand in front of Orcini’s, Chinois, The Ivy, her voice raising higher and higher as she argued In-N-Out was just as good.  Austin spent a lot of nights finding new ways to make Hannah’s Murphy bed creak before he found his own place on the Westside, and got settled in a small, modern rental up in the hills.

It was a day in late May, Hannah had just started working on her first feature as an assistant editor, when Austin proposed they stop using condoms. She was sitting on the marble counter of his house, eating chow mien out of the container in a Talking Heads tee-shirt. He was in his briefs. Both exhausted, he’d been shooting his second movie, playing Emilio Estevez’s  younger brother.

“I mean, I’m not seeing anyone else… are you?”

“Well,” Hannah fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, “I’m so busy wrapping this McTiernan picture I really haven’t had time to meet anyone else.”

“Is it any good? I can’t believe they cast Willis, he’s a TV star.”

“I love Moonlighting…”

“Still, is he believable as an action hero?”

“You’re just jealous…. “

Austin took the noodles out of her hand and pulled her into a kiss.

“OK, no more talking about other guys… what do you say? You’re on the pill now, right?”

Hannah nodded.

“OK, I’ll get tested…. You’ll get tested… And voila… ”

She kissed him as he lifted her up, legs wrapping around him while he carried her to the bed room.

Despite her misgivings, Hannah brought Austin out to Malibu for tea at her dad’s trailer. It was a Sunday afternoon, and her heart burst as she watched Austin engage with Avram, not hesitating to talk movies and nodding as her father explained his theories about film school, “waste of time, scholars never make good directors, they’ve got their heads in books,” how Mel Brooks was not funny, “but no one has the balls to tell him the truth.” Austin praised sound editing, particularly dialogue editing, as the most important and unappreciated part of making a movie. And he was particularly gracious every time he tried to tell her father he liked movie he’d worked on.

“Hannah told me you worked on Chinatown, it’s one of my favorite movies…”

“Ughhh, what an awful film,” Avi groaned, frowning, his British accent drew out every vowel. “It had real potential, but Polanksi can’t help himself.”

Hannah stifled her laughter, waggling her eyebrows at Austin as she went to get more biscuits. He jumped up, offering to bring the tea cups in.

“I’ve never met someone with so many strong opinions… about film… and I went to NYU… ”

“My father hates every movie, especially the ones he worked on. I can’t tell you how many times he dragged me out of a movie theatre to walk out of something 30 minutes in.”

“He does know that you and I majored in film, right? When he tells you it is stupid to study film?”

“Yes, he knows that one of us went to the best film school in the country —“

“And the other went to UCLA…” 

“Ha! …. But Austin, my dad started working in this industry when he was 16, a poor Jewish kid from London, he followed his brother and his career to another country, always having to learn on the job. Always having to prove him self, no one to support him. And then everything with my uncle… He is bitter about how the industry is changing, no one ever had to go to film school to break in until the ‘70s…. And in some ways, he’s right, imagine how much more experience we’d have if we hadn’t wasted four years in expensive classrooms…”

Austin introduced Hannah as his girlfriend for the first time at the after party for the Estevez movie premiere. His publicist, Min, was sweet to her face, though she had made Austin promise no public appearances together. He walked the red carpet alone, meeting Hannah inside, where he found Min smiling as Hannah relayed her own editing credits from the year, making a mental note to discuss publicity and relationships with Austin later. 

In their next meeting, Min explained. “You have the potential to be a leading man, Austin, trust me, you do not to be tied down… to an editor? No. Please, trust me, actors are always better dating other actors. Or super models. Or pop stars.”

He brushed it off, explaining it was his private life, and he knew what he was doing. A part of him wondered if being in a committed relationship was wise, fair, good for his career, but those doubts disappeared as he watched Hannah cum on his face the next morning, her dopey smiled sent sparks to stomach, and he pushed up to cover her plush, red lips with his, the taste of her pussy all over his face. Riding her to the hilt and exploding inside of her, Austin shouted “fuckkkk” in rhythm to the sounds of their flesh smacking, filling the empty hillside below his open bedroom window with vulgar noises. That was the day he told her he loved her, pussy drunk, blissed out, nuzzling together in the cosmic afterglow of energetic coitus, endorphins flooding their systems. Austin twisted her hair. 

“Hannah Hannah Bo Bana Banana nana … I think I love you.”

Turning, she kissed the side of his chest, her fingers trailing down his chest.

“I feel it too, Bruiser."

“You should move in.”

“Babe…”

“What? This is the first day we’ve spent together all week. You’re busy. I’m busy. So just move in already. Then at least we can do this everyday.”

But of course, they did not fuck everyday. They didn’t even see each other everyday. Some nights, Hannah would fall asleep on the cutting room floor working for a deadline. Austin had to go to Idaho to shoot a western, and he became close with his co-stars, Robert Downey Jr. and Kiefer Sutherland, returning to LA with a stronger proclivity for nose candy, taking the weeks in-between projects to join his newfound playmates on the club scene. He would call Hannah from the pay phone at whatever bar they went to, asking when she would be there. Telling her he found the perfect alley for their anniversary. Some nights she ventured out, Hannah had always enjoyed feeling music pound through her soul, but she found she didn’t just enjoy getting high every night and she needed the blow to stay up until 4 with them and get to work the next morning. And so, on many nights, Hannah would just collapse at home and wake as Austin came in.

She met his family, briefly, at Christmas 1988. Dinner was small, quiet, just Austin, his father and older sister Ashley in the large dining room of a large, stucco house in Anaheim. Hannah had foregone her usual thick eyeliner and studded black leather jacket, buying an outfit at JC Penneys and wearing her grandmother’s pearl necklace. She hated herself, as she looked in the mirror and asked her self, “Would Nancy Reagan approve?”

She burned the dress in July, as she packed her things and moved out of the Hollywood Hills house. The female voice on the other end of the phone line still reverberated through her head. Austin was shooting on location in Arizona, it was his second leading role.  At first Hannah had questioned whether the hotel operator had connected her to the right room when a women’s voice answered the phone. She paused, thinking carefully.

“Oh, hey, um… is Brian there?”

She could hear the shower running in the background, and then Austin’s distinct voice shout out.

“Don’t answer the phone!”

The mystery women giggled, then spoke into the receiver.

“Sorry, no Brian here, you must have the wrong number.”

“Oh, this isn’t room 335?”

“No, 334… Austin, don’t, you’re all wet!”

“I thought I said not to pick up the phone?”

There it was closer, deeper, in the midst of some sort of exertion, was he tickling her? Kissing her?

Hannah’s mind raced and her imagination ran wild as she listened to a commotion of fabric and limbs while the phone receiver dropped to the floor.

Muffled voices continued.

“It was for the room next door… why don’t you want me to pick up the phone?”

“Shut up, just promise me  -" more feminine giggling as he spoke … “you won’t, ok?”

Hannah hung up after that, adrenaline coursed through her veins, and a sharp, nervous ache ran up her tummy and settled at the top of her chest. Pacing through the living room, through the kitchen, and back again, she started shouting at herself.

“Fucking idiot, fucking actors, fucking Orange County, fucking Reagan, ugh, you fucking stupid cow… you can let this go.” She breathed. “You love him. You knew. This was bound to happen. If you were honest with yourself, you knew. You knew. You knew the minute he told you why he had moved out here. Any real relationship would be impossible. But no, you didn’t care, did you? It was fuuuuun. He was hooot. It felt goooood. Losers, gays and cheaters, Hannah. This is as good as it could ever be. You can push it down, smother it, kill your jealousy and take what he gives you.”

She slumped on the ground, banging her fists into the hard wood floor, seeking out it’s cold to temper the crazy, frenetic heat overtaking her body. Now, she was taking a shower, drinking a beer as the water pummeled down. Three beers later, cold, shivering in the empty bathtub, she had convinced herself to just pretend she didn’t know, act like nothing happened, you love him - that is all that matters. 

But then he called her later that night, whispering “Hey Hannah Banana,” into the phone as he always did, his gravelly confident voice exuding fidelity.  She wondered if this was even the first time, she couldn’t tell the difference. He had the same deep timbre, extolling honeyed devotion from Arizona as he told her about his day and laughed at her sarcastic jokes.

Hanging up, hate overtook her. She played with the idea of throwing his stupid record collection down the hill. Sitting in indecision for five days, she knew she had to make up her mind about what she would do. He was due to come home in a week. At night, she forced herself to picture him fucking someone else, an anonymous mystery woman didn’t seem real enough, so she pictured Sloan, sucking his dick, riding him on top, crying out his name as he devoured her pussy. Hannah was so anxious she could barely eat, subsisting on coffee and digestives for the next few days. Her whole body trembled through a meeting with the director Joel Schumacher,  and Mike, the supervising editor shifting to stare at her periodically and then cornering her to ask if she was ok.

So Hannah made up her mind and started to form a plan. She grieved, chain smoking on the bed, a bottle of vodka in her hand, listening to the mix she had made of The Cure, Depeche Mode, Joy Division, smiling as she stabbed out her cigarettes into the ground, ruining the hard wood floor, thinking of Austin loosing his security deposit. She continued playing stupid on the phone when Austin called, although more and more she let the message machine pick up, feigning a busy work schedule when they talked. She signed the lease on a a little studio in West LA, near Wilshire Boulevard, packed her shit and moved out. She cried as she burned all love notes, valentines, cards, mix tapes and photos of them together in the fireplace before she left. And the dress from Christmas, she would never try to be something she wasn’t for any man. Ever again.

It took Austin two days to notice she had moved out. He arrived home late on a Monday night, assuming Hannah was still at work, he passed out and slept until noon. The past month on location had been a blur. He had wanted Hannah to come with him, and was resentful at her and her career, because they only occasionally had breaks that overlapped. They’d been able to sneak away for a weekend in Cabo, a few days in Vancouver. But it would have been cool to have her keep him company on this shoot. He was busy filming, beginning almost every day at 6 a.m., but the cocaine helped, and he felt like a champion working through the day and going out at night with some of the other actors.  He convinced Bob Downey to come visit him when he had a weekend off,  they drove to the Grand Canyon together, and dropped acid, then missed their paid and scheduled guided tour and ended up laying on the hood of his Beamer gazing at the stars and pondering the meaning of life. 

On his first morning back in LA, Austin got dressed and drove out for meetings with his agent to discuss his the next project, calling home and Hannah’s work no avail trying to reach her. He ate dinner alone at the at Chateau Marmont bar on a whim, drinking a whiskey and talking with the bar tender for a while. He wasn’t famous, yet, not really, and he enjoyed the anonymity, although he nearly jumped out of his skin with joy when Demi Moore recognized him as she entered the restaurant with Bruce Willis. They’d met when she was dating Emilio Estevez, and Austin took the opportunity to gush to Willis about how much he loved Die Hard and how he always thought Willis had action star potential watching Moonlighting. Leaving the Chateau, Austin ended the night with a drive through Hollywood, listening to Genesis and U2 on his tape deck, before growing lonely at home and wondering where Hannah was. He called her work again with no luck, drank a half bottle of whiskey and passed out. It was the next morning, unpacking his suitcases from Arizona, that he noticed Hannah’s side of the closet was empty. Austin frantically walked through the house, opening dresser drawers, looking through the bathroom, checking to see if she had left a note on the fridge or any travel receipts at her desk. His first hope was that she’d gone on a spontaneous trip with friends. Or maybe out to visit her father for a few days. Austin’s heart sank when he saw the empty frames above the mantle, the specks of burnt cards and photos in the fireplace. He wasn’t sure how much she knew, or how she found out, but he punched the wall until his fists bleed, raging at himself for being so stupid, for getting carried away, for screwing around with one of the supporting actresses.

It hadn’t been the first time another actor had flirted with Austin. Indeed, flirting, pranks, late night philosophical discussions, it was all common practice between the crew and the talent, especially on location when the everyone lived at the same hotel. For a month. However, this had been the first time he had given into temptation. Kim was 20 years old, beautiful and carefree, with none of Hannah’s angst or deep insecurities, although he later realized there wasn’t much depth to her personality at all and he got bored. Quickly. In the beginning, it had been freeing and wonderful, even exciting, to explore and get to know a new female body, to end the loneliness he’d been enclosed in over the first week and a half in Arizona. Why did anyone live in the desert anyway? He asked himself as the dry heat hit his face every goddamn day. The way Kim had pursued him was also incredibly flattering. She waited for Austin by his trailer, caught his eye on set while she bite her lip, cornered him at the hotel bar, causing him to smile a mischievous knowing smile every time their eyes locked, to know she wanted him, to feel the power he held over her. It stroked his ego and poured gas onto the fire that would blow up his relationship with Hannah. The sex daze wore off after a week and he realized what a huge mistake he had made. They had nothing in common and it was increasingly annoying how she didn’t get any of his jokes, or slipped into a form of baby talk in bed that grated his nerves, especially when he was hung over. It was worse when Kim began holding his hand on set, probing him about the future, and looking at him impatiently as she talked about going to the premiere together. Like a man, Austin said nothing, and suffered through another ten days of mediocre sex and companionship with Kim before breaking things off the moment shooting concluded.

All of this flashed through Austin’s head as he drove to Hannah’s work, yelling at the receptionist who explained Hannah was not working on anything there, she’d finishing before deadline, and had no idea if Hannah was working somewhere else or coming back in the near future. Swearing under his breath, Austin walked back and forth in the parking lot, squeezing the bridge of his nose, palming his hand through his hair. He considered driving out to Malibu and shaking down Avi, but he couldn’t bare to look Hannah’s father in the eyes, afraid she had shared what had happened, or worse, hadn’t and he would have to explain why he had no idea where his girlfriend was. Racking his brain, he wasn’t sure what to do. He had met several of Hannah’s friends, but didn’t know their phone numbers. It was pure dumb luck that he happened be driving down Wilshire Boulevard in a daze and saw her small, blue Honda hatchback parked down one of the side streets. He immediately recognized the Dukakis 88 bumper sticker in exactly the same place he’d watched Hannah paste it as he teased her relentlessly with promises to cancel out her vote by pulling for Bush. Parking across the street, he sat waiting, unsure of his game plan, but unable to leave. He put the radio on and leaned back. Thrumming the steering wheel, he didn’t see her walk past his car from the apartment building behind him and frown as she recognized his profile. Movement on his periphery startled Austin, and he looked over his shoulder to see Hannah’s beautiful, heart shaped ass running slowly back up the block in low black heels. Springing into action, Austin ran after her, his Nikes and jeans giving him the advantage.

“Hannah! Hannah….” He caught up and blocked the sidewalk, panting deeply. “C’mon Hannah, I made a mistake… one mistake… haven’t you ever made a mistake while you were drunk?”

Crossing her arms, sighing, she resisted the urge slap him.

“Yes. Christmas Eve. 1987.”

Read Chapter Two Here

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added)

@woundmetender​

@powerofelvis​

@aconflagrationofmyown​

[noemitenshi]

Fluffbruary in December - Treasure

Prompt: Treasure (more or less fitting XD)

Fandom: Fear the Walking Dead

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Crazy Dog(Lee)/Troy Otto/Original female character

Summary: Bonus chapter to I can’t stop imagining hurting you which I wrote for kinktober (prompt: spanking). It is set after the third time of Lee spanking Troy. More context isn’t really needed.

Word count: 3088

Title: Treasure

---

Ri couldn’t deny that watching Lee and Troy interact in that way with one another affected her, too. More deeply than either one of them realized, probably. And it wasn’t like she begrudged them for not noticing. In fact, it felt like she had her own little secret and she enjoyed it, for the time being. Something just for her. Wasn’t like she was hiding it, either. They could see it in her rosy cheeks, her sparkling eyes. The wondrous smile that was still curving her lips upwards. The way she was all soft and loving, especially soft and loving the morning after.

Like now. Where she had her head all in the clouds while on the way to get her lovers some coffee. Maybe a little bite to eat, too. They’d still be all snuggled together when she left them with promises of both. Promised to be right back, too. Didn’t want them to have to leave this intimate atmosphere yet. Because they, well, they also were especially soft and loving after such a night. And there was already so much to worry about, so much to figure out, that she thought they should get as much respite as possible. And frankly, with the way Troy had been keyed up before last night, this was more than necessary if you asked her. She was glad he got to finally relax, even though the way he relaxed still had her a bit uneasy. Or maybe it was more that she wasn’t sure she could do for him what Lee did. Not that she had to, of course. But it still left her feeling… a bit strange. Even though she knew how much it meant to Troy. Even though she, herself, could feel how it deepened the connection between Troy and Lee – and her, too. Even though she loved watching them. Loved how she felt all floaty and in love afterwards. Towards both of them. Like she’d witnessed something special. Sacred almost. And they wanted her there, with them. Always. It made her secretive smile deepen and she felt like sighing from how much happiness she was feeling.

“Ri.” That voice, dark and tight pulled her brutally out of her happy place. Jake had his hand on her shoulder and when she turned she could see that his expression matched his tone.

“Jake,” she greeted, her own voice brittle. She couldn’t imagine that he had anything good to say. Not with the way he was looking at her. Good god, couldn’t they get a couple of hours for themselves without a crisis rearing its ugly head?

Jake was just looking at her, brows pulled together, eyes squinty. He almost looked like he didn’t want to say what was about to come out of his mouth next. Maybe he shouldn’t then, she thought darkly and looked at him impatiently. She wasn’t about to make that easier on him.

“Listen,” he finally said, voice softer now. Sweet. She furrowed her brows. This was new. He almost sounded apologetic. It had her actually worried now. What had happened?! It had to be something bad. Something personal. Her heart started to race uncomfortably.

“What is it?” she asked. She had tried, really tried to sound firm. Put-together. But her voice shook with the possibilities. Jake closed his eyes and she was fearing the worst.

“I heard.” Jake’s voice was gravely now. And she blinked. Heard? Heard wha—Oh, no! Her mind started to race while her cheeks heated. Oh god, how was she supposed to explain thi–Wait. Why the fuck did Jake feel the need to share this with her? Who did that!? She regretted her choice to leave Troy’s room immensely. They could’ve gone without coffee for another hour. Maybe two. Definitely two. Goddamn her and her need to coddle her lovers.

“Jake…” she started, not sure where she was going with this. But he didn’t let her finish anyway.

“I know…” he said slowly, “how my brother can be.” Oh god, they were really talking about this now.

“Uhm…” she said intelligently. Jake’s eyebrows drew even more together in a sympathetic gesture.

“This is difficult for you, I understand,” he said in a reassuring voice. Ri blinked and still couldn’t figure out why he wanted to talk about this. Or why he was looking at her like she was a frightened animal. “But if my brother is hurting you, you can tell me. He won’t get away with this, I promise.”

She couldn’t put into words the absolute fury she felt at his words. It took her breath away and shook her body.

How dare he.

“You don’t need to be afraid of him,” Jake continued, obviously misjudging her reaction.

“I’m not,” she pressed out, the only thing that came to her mind.  

“You don’t have to protect him.” Obviously she did.

“Jake,” she hissed, “you misunderstand…” Again, he cut her off.

“Don’t, don’t do that, Ri” How did he manage to look and sound so sympathetic and set her off so, so completely? “Don’t lie for him.”

She’d hit him, she would if he didn’t shut up – and she was so angry she didn’t even realize the irony of that.

“I’m not lying,” she said slowly, emphasizing every word.

“I know he can be scary. I’m sorry, Ri, I should have protected you from him.” He wasn’t listening to her. Not even a little. And the goddamn audacity of him! “I should have expected it. Our homelife… it wasn’t the easiest. It’s all he’s ever seen. Abuse is the only thing he knows. I should have realized he’d—”

“Jake.”

Ri felt like dying when she heard Troy’s quiet, quiet voice. Oh god, he sounded so pained. How much had he heard?! Why hadn’t she gotten Jake to shut up?! She turned to look at him, talk to him, soothe him, but Jake was faster, putting himself between Troy and her. Seriously?!

“Troy.” Jake’s own voice was sharp. Dangerous. And he walked towards Troy, slowly. “I won’t let you hurt her again, you hear? That’s not right, Troy. Not what you do when you love someone. It’s not what a man does.”

She saw something painful move over his expression, something shameful. She needed to go to him. Now. She tried to squeeze between Jake and the wall and he had the fucking gall to try and stop her, grasping her upper arms and she tried to duck away, turn away but he managed to grab her left arm anyway, turning her back and in that split second she swung her arm—

“What’s going on here?” Lee’s worried voice stopped her and she let her arm sink. It would probably help no one if she hit Jake. Well. She was sure it would make her feel better for a second. But still.

Lee was coming down the stairs, rushing almost, and took Troy’s hand into his when he reached his still, still form.

“You ok?” she heard him whisper. Relief rushed through her and this burning need to reach him abated slightly. Troy squeezed Lee’s hand but didn’t answer. Of course not. How could he be ok when his brother had just accused him of abuse. So matter-of-factly too, like it was a done deal. Like of course Troy was an abuser. She balled her fist again.

“Let go of my girlfriend, Jake.” Lee wasted no time trying to manage the situation. She was grateful and shrugged Jake’s hand off him when she felt him loosen his fingers. But how come he didn’t ignore Lee?! She pushed past him with more force than necessary and grasped Troy’s other hand tightly in hers. He squeezed back but it was lackluster.

“Now. What was that all about?” Lee asked. His voice had become quieter but by no means less firm. He was angry, Ri knew by the way his whole body was tense. The way a muscle jumped in his jaw. She put her other hand over Troy’s too, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb, small, soothing gestures. ‘Let’s just go’ part of her felt like saying, wanting to get Troy out of this situation as fast as possible. But another part of her wanted to watch Jake squirm and try to explain himself. Wanted Troy to have the satisfaction of seeing people stand up for him. No matter how uncomfortable it was in this moment.

“Lee,” Jake said placatingly, complete with hands slightly raised in a calming gesture.

“Jake,” Lee replied, through clenched teeth. He was demanding an answer.  

“You should really take better care of your girlfriend.”

“Excuse me!?” The sentence echoed in the hall and Ri took a moment to understand that Lee had said the same thing she had. But where her voice had been high, outraged, his had been dark. Angry.

“I meant,” Jake said, while closing his eyes, “I meant to say that I heard what was going on last night.”

She felt Troy wince and gripped his hand tighter.

“And what is it,” Lee said slowly, advancing towards Jake, “You think you’ve heard? Hmm?”

“I…”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t notice what you’re alluding to going on right under my nose?”

“Ehm…”

“Do you really think I’d just stand by?”

He was now standing right in front of Jake who looked spooked. Good, Ri thought in grim satisfaction. He should.

“Do you really think,” Lee’s voice was low now and slow. As if he was choosing every word with utmost care. “your brother capable of something like that?” The contempt, the utter disgust was palatable.

“I know what I heard.” Ri had to give him that, he wasn’t backing down.

“What you heard,” Lee repeated mockingly and managed to sound even more condescending than before, “Let’s ignore for a second that if it were true, what you’re insinuating, this is the worst. Possible. Way. to approach that topic.” He paused, giving Jake time to actually hear what he was saying. Then he leaned in and said, “I’ll let you in on a little secret – not that you’re giving me much choice here.”

Troy’s hand squeezed Ri’s so tightly that she just so managed to suppress a pained gasp. That would’ve been more than detrimental to the whole discussion. She rubbed her other hand up and down his arm, trying to stroke the tenseness out of his muscles.

“I do enjoy being spanked during sex. Is that clearing things up for you? Or do I need to have all my preferences approved by you?”

“I, uh, of course not! I mean, uh, I didn’t…”

“I suggest,” Lee interrupted him very deliberately, “you check yourself, in the future, before throwing accusations like that around…”  

Jake was still trying to stammer out an apology and Troy was finally starting to relax his iron grip on Ri. She sighed, relieved, impressed, with how Lee had handled that. And a tiny bit pissed still that Jake hadn’t listened to her when she had been trying to explain. But Jake was fleeing the scene, mumbling something about getting breakfast down at the communal area. No one reacted to that. They just slowly made their way to the kitchen. Once inside Troy finally seemed to get over his shock. He stopped Lee from passing him to get to the sink by grabbing his wrist and pulling him slightly towards himself.

“You… didn’t have to do this,” he said quietly. It was clear what he meant with ‘this’ – Lee didn’t have to have told Jake it was him that liked to be spanked. Lee’s face went soft and serious at once.

“Oh but I did,” he said, “I really, really did.” He stepped closer to him, cupping his face sweetly and looking at him closely. Lovingly.

“Don’t you know how much I treasure that part of you – all parts of you. But especially that?”

Troy opened his mouth slightly, as if trying to speak. But he didn’t, just drew his brows slightly together, questioningly. Lee smiled soothingly and told him,

“I do. I love how much you trust us. So much that you show us this. That you allow us to see you that vulnerable. That you want to be this vulnerable with us. Every time you let us in like that, it’s a gift. And no one gets to make you feel bad about it, or sully it in any way. Because it’s beautiful. And I’ll protect it— I’ll protect you with everything I have. You. Us.” He glanced towards Ri and she smiled back at him. She knew he would. It was the same for her.

“What we have, it’s the most precious thing to me. You’re precious.”

Troy looked utterly helpless and overwhelmed. Like he didn’t know how to answer that, how to react. It made her press close to him, having his hand still in hers, squeezing it while she snaked her other hand around him in a half-hug. At the same time Lee pulled him into a kiss that made Troy tremble. Her heart ached for him. The whole vile scene was probably still plaguing his mind. Those accusations. Ri knew he’d secretly harbored them, too. This belief that he’d end up like his father.

“You wouldn’t. Ever,” she heard herself say. But she wouldn’t want to take the words back either because she believed them with all her heart. Troy glanced at her, apprehensive. Another little tremor went through him.

“What Jake said is utter bullshit. You hear me? Utter. Bullshit.” She wished she could just make him belief her. Just say it with enough emphasis and he’d nod along. But he wasn’t nodding – just looking at her with large eyes.

“Just because you grew up in an abusive household doesn’t make you an abuser.” Oh, they’ve already talked about this, about Troy’s fears. But it needed saying again. And she’d say it until he believed it. And then some more for good measure. “You would never hurt me, Troy.” He was trembling now and it broke her heart.

“You can’t know that,” he whispered, “I don’t know that.”

“But I do,” she told him confidently, taking both his hands now into hers, “I know you. Inside and out. I see you. And you would never hurt me like Jake suggested.” She guided his hands to her lips while she spoke and kissed his knuckles, first left, then right, laying her lips on his skin sweetly and with insistence.

“I…”

“She’s right, baby,” Lee, who had tactfully stepped back was now speaking up again, “You wouldn’t ever.”

“You don’t…”

“Of course he does,” Ri interrupted Troy softly, “Same way I do. We know you. Because you let us in, sweetie.”

His breath hitched treacherously at the nickname. Her expression softened even further and she continued,

“You’re so full of love and sweetness. You don’t even know it yourself, do you?” And she kissed him, agonizingly soft, drawing said sweetness out of him in the way he responded. In the way his hands went so carefully around her, pressing her slowly close, as if afraid she’d break otherwise. On the way he leaned into her, just a little, as if his weight could crush her otherwise. She hummed, her fingers dancing to his neck, playing with his hair there while she licked teasingly into his mouth. He sighed while she pressed closer still and he automatically tightened his hands around her. It made her smile contently.

“See,” she whispered, “You’re the sweetest.” The fact that Lee kept quiet to that marked how fragile the whole thing still was. And Troy still looked apprehensive when she sneaked a glance at him, even though she could also see that he wanted to believe her now. Was half-way there, wasn’t he. Alright then, different strategy.

She looked at him, sweetly still but there was something challenging creeping into her gaze. It captivated Troy, made it impossible to look away even as she reached for his hands, caressing them softly while she guided them to her throat. They spasmed when she put them there, pressing her hands over his and he swallowed. She tilted her head in an unasked question – or no, not question, challenge – while she let her own hands sink. She was completely defenseless now.

Troy’s gaze finally did leave hers, sliding to his hands on her throat. He could feel her breathe, unhurried. Calm. Could feel how relaxed she was. There was no fear, not even a little, even if his hands could close easily around her small throat. If he started pressing there was nothing she could do. But his hands didn’t want to press. Instead they had started stroking her skin, softly, softly, and without conscious decision. He watched his thumb glide over her collarbone, sweetly back and forth before his fingers went up the side of her neck. She moved into his touch with a sigh and closed her eyes.

“See,” she whispered again, “I know you.”

He had to kiss her then, that clever mouth and his hands moved into her hair, burying there. He moaned helplessly. God she did, didn’t she.

“Know you. And treasure you.” Lee’s warm voice rumbled right by his ear, tickling him and then his soft lips were closing around his earlobe, a lingering kiss, before they moved to the spot behind his ear that had him groan involuntary.

Ri grinned when she heard that sound, felt how he was moving against her in a blind search for pleasure. She kissed his jaw – his head had tilted back with what Lee was doing to the side of his neck and she couldn’t quite reach his mouth. His hands, still on her, frantically moving in her hair, to her face, her throat and back, tightened. Just for a second. As if he was replying to the kiss in the only way he could. She had to kiss him again, then, sighing contently and then her quick fingers were at the waistband of his pants. She pulled them down in one fluid motion, sinking to her knees in front of him. He gasped and his gaze found hers, eyes large again. But this time, clouded with lust, too.

“J-jake could come back,” he whispered, even though he sounded like he didn’t want to say it. Everything about him shouted that he didn’t want this to stop. She smirked dangerously and Lee laughed breathlessly, getting her meaning before she’s said it.

“That’s the point. Let him see how loved you are.”

-the end-

@fluffbruary

[brett-is-afraid]

Heaven must Be Missing An Angel

Ship: Ted x Cooper

Rating: Explicit

Request: dom top ted and sub bottom cooper with size difference, choking and maybe pet play. or just like anything kinky with bottom cooper lol

Summary: That was the thing about Ted and Cooper's relationship, it was a constant cycle of breaking each other down and putting each other back together again.

Warnings: Top Ted, dom Ted, bottom Cooper, sub Cooper, anal fingering, anal sex, rough sex, barebacking, creampie, dirty talk, face slapping, size kink, consent play.

Words: 2,193

Cooper shivered as he laid on the slightly uncomfortable bed, stripped completely down and spread out while Ted watched him. It seemed like this had been going on for hours now. He couldn't tell quite when they started or how long they'd been doing this, but he imagined it had been a long time. Ted had been in a mood all day. They'd be dating long enough for Cooper to know the signs of Ted needing a night where he just took control over everything. He'd been irritable all day long and had taken the first chance he had to pull Cooper into his bedroom. Cooper never needed much urging before he was giving Ted whatever he needed; they always took care of one another, that was their thing. 

Ted had instructed him to strip, his voice soft and steady, but still controlling and dominant. It made Cooper want to break down to his knees and give Ted anything he wanted. He obeyed every command as soon as it was given, wanting to be good for Ted. Other times, he would be a brat and act out, but that wasn't what either of them needed or wanted right then. He'd pulled off his own clothes easily, taking his time and putting on a show as Ted watched him closely. He would never get over how Ted looked at him, he decided, the way he acted like Cooper was the only thing he could focus on. It made Cooper feel unbelievably loved with just a look and it was almost overwhelming sometimes. 

Never touching him, Ted told Cooper to get himself ready for him. And how could he deny him anything? Of course, he would've loved having Ted's hands on him, but he wanted to please him more than anything. And if it took his own fingers pressing inside himself, one after another while Ted told him when to push another in, then that's exactly what he would do. A part of him liked being watched anyway. Exhibitionism had never quite been his thing, but he liked it when Ted would pay this kind of attention to him. And Ted's eyes never left him, pupils tiny dots in his eyes and his gaze following every small movement of Cooper's body as he writhed against the bed. 

"You're an angel, Coop. A fucking angel," Ted had murmured out at some point and it made Cooper whine, wanting to be close to him so badly. "I know, sweetheart. Soon, okay? Just add another finger for me," Cooper nodded before the words were even out, pressing a third finger inside of himself and continued to stretch himself out. It seemed to take forever before Ted was finally beginning to take his own clothes off. Cooper's eyes followed him and he never stopped fingering himself because Ted hadn't told him to. Ted hesitated when he finally got to his underwear, seeming a bit insecure and Cooper wasn't surprised; Ted just got that way sometimes. But a brief second later, fingers pushed the fabric down and Ted's hard cock popped out, seeming to catch Cooper off guard no matter how many times he saw the other man undressed. 

"You look so hot, Teddy. You're so handsome for me," Cooper rambled as soon as his words found him again. He wanted, no, he needed Ted to know just how beautiful he was. No matter how long they'd been together, Cooper always found him so breathtaking. Ted gave him a small smile at the words and reached down to stroke himself. Ted's cock was proportional to the rest of him, long and thick in between his legs. His body hair was neatly groomed and he took pride in keeping himself tidy. In the beginning of their relationship, Cooper had been slightly intimidated by Ted's size and how experienced he seemed in everything that he did. It all just seemed to come naturally to him. 

“Just hold still for a second,” Ted murmured and readjusted himself to be over top of Cooper. The position emphasized their size difference, showing just how much bigger Ted was and Cooper had to keep himself from shivering at that. He’d always loved feeling small compared to Ted, loved being completely covered by his boyfriend’s body when they were like this. Large hands found his thighs, spreading them gently. Some days, Ted wouldn’t be like this. He’d be rough as he took hold of Cooper’s body, not caring about their size or strength difference. He would leave bruises and marks in his wake, ignoring Cooper’s whimpering and complaints about the roughness. But Cooper never truly minded. 

He especially couldn’t bring himself to care when Ted was stroking his own cock, lining the head up with Cooper’s hole. For a few moments, he just rubbed himself there. His head was leaking already, precum smearing across Cooper’s skin and making it shiny. Ted’s eyes were mostly focused on the sight there, but he looked back up when Cooper made a slightly unhappy sound and began squirming around a bit. 

“It’s not gonna fit,” Cooper said softly. He knew Ted like he knew the back of his hand, knowing everything the other liked in bed and what he didn’t. Ted’s free hand reached out to take hold of Cooper’s hip and Cooper was quickly grabbing onto his wrist. “Please, you’re too big. It won’t fit,” He repeated, faking desperation. Ted smirked softly and leaned in, kissing Cooper for a few long seconds before pulling away from his mouth. 

“Oh, angel. Don’t worry,” Ted whispered to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The hand on Cooper’s waist rubbed his skin in small circles, just letting him lay there for a moment. “I’ll make it fit,” He assured and his hips started pushing in before Cooper could react. A strangled gasp escaped Cooper’s throat and his hand held tightly onto Ted’s wrist. He hadn’t been lying when he said Ted was big, he was fucking massive. Even after Cooper prepared himself, the first push inside still burned and Ted had to readjust himself a couple times. “Fuck. You’re so tight,” He muttered as he struggled to force the head inside. 

“I told you it wasn’t gonna-” Cooper’s words were cut off by a sharp hand coming down across his cheek. His skin burned and tears welled up in his eyes, it hurt and it was humiliating. And it was everything he loved about moments like these. “I’m sorry,” He said quietly, wincing when Ted shoved himself forward. A sharp snap of his hips buried him completely inside and he paused as soon as he did, giving Cooper time to adjust and relax to the feeling. They stayed quiet for a couple minutes, the only sound between them was heavy breathing.

“I’ve got you, baby. Told you I’d fit,” Ted knew Cooper knew his safewords and signals, he’d use them if he needed to. Until then, he wasn’t going to ease up on him. He finally felt comfortable enough to start moving. Cooper let out an airy noise when he first started moving, his pace slow and steady. He’d pull out a few inches before pressing back inside deeply. It took everything in him to not just lose control and start fucking into him, but he managed it and kept his movements gentle to let Cooper get used to his size again. 

“You feel so good,” Cooper murmured and that was all that Ted needed, it was their signal for him to be rougher if he wanted to be. And God, he really wanted to. His hips began rocking quicker, taking a bit of time to build up a rougher pace with Cooper. Cooper moaned quietly at the feeling, the stretch still burning as Ted started using him however he wanted. Ted shifted upwards, getting a better grip on Cooper’s thighs to give himself a bit more leverage to fuck into him. The new angle forced him somehow deeper inside of him. 

“You feel my cock bulging out of you, baby boy?” Ted grinned down at him, grasping one of Cooper’s hands to bring it to his stomach. Cooper knew logically that he couldn’t actually feel Ted’s cock pressing through his skin, maybe if he lost a bit of weight, but they were both so caught up in the moment. He nodded as he pressed his fingers into his own skin. In actuality, he could feel Ted moving with each thrust and it was easy to let his mind run wild. “I’m practically breaking you apart, huh?” Cooper nodded again, smiling back up at Ted. 

“Feels like you’re in my stomach,” Cooper whined, tears still streaking his face and his cheek a bright red from where Ted had hit him. Ted thrust harder, adjusting his hips a bit to brush against Cooper’s prostate with every movement. “Fuck,” He breathed out shakily, fingers grasping at the blankets as Ted kept up his pace. He’d always been shocked by Ted’s stamina, the man never seeming to need to slow down. And in moments like these, it was almost overwhelming in the best ways possible. 

“It’s not my fault you’re so small,” Ted knew they both liked the size difference between them. And during times when Ted needed to relax a bit, he liked pointing it out even more. He liked feeling needed, liked feeling like he could take care of Cooper. He enjoyed how every inch of Cooper seemed to fit in his hands, easy to manhandle and overpower. Cooper had no choice but to let him do whatever he wanted in times like these. Even though Ted knew in the back of his mind that Cooper had a stranglehold over his heart. 

He’d never felt so deeply for someone before and he knew he’d do anything the second Cooper asked him to. In bed, Ted could take over and be the one who was listened to. It gave him the full control he lacked in other aspects of his life. And he was just thankful Cooper trusted him enough to give him full control, trusting Ted to make the right choices for him and to put him back together after breaking him.

“You make me feel even smaller,” Cooper told him and Ted cursed at those words. A shudder rolled through him, hips stuttering a bit as he tried to keep up his pace. Cooper had always known exactly what to say to drive him out of his mind. Ted wanted to make Cooper feel small and Cooper always knew how to make Ted feel like he was needed. Maybe both of them pulled each other apart and put one another back together again. 

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby. You’re making me feel so good,” Ted praised, putting his full effort into making himself come. Cooper’s noises got louder as Ted drilled into his prostate more frequently, not giving his body a moment of reprieve in between thrusts. “That’s right. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel,” Ted’s ego was getting the better of him, making him yearn for every sound he could pull from Cooper. 

“Feels good, Teddy. You feel so good,” Cooper rambled, words sounding strained as he struggled to get them out. He sounded so broken. Ted groaned and buried his face into Cooper’s shoulder, hips slamming into him in shorter thrusts. Cooper’s fingers tangled into Ted’s hair, knowing his boyfriend was about to tip over that edge. “Please come in me,” Cooper’s words were barely above a whisper, breathy and stuttered, and that was all it took. 

“Fuck,” Ted drew the word out as he fucked into Cooper wildly, body almost trembling from pleasure as he came. He pressed himself deep inside of his partner, wanting to be as close as he could get. “You feel so fucking good,” He murmured out, pressing a kiss against his skin. Cooper was breathing hard beneath him, acting as though he’d been the one doing all the work and Ted smiled at that a bit as he nuzzled into him. ‘I love you,” He told him easily, fingers stroking against whatever warm skin he could reach. 

“I love you too,” Cooper smiled and relaxed further into the bed, feeling comfortable being caught between the bed and Ted’s warm body on top of him. His fingers tangled into Ted’s hair to stroke through it gently, enjoying how close they were in the afterglow of it all. Things were always so peaceful after.  “Are you done being a grump now?” He asked with a soft laugh, his words teasing and Ted’s eyebrows furrowing up at the question. 

“Hey. I am not a grump,” Ted huffed out, burying his face deeper into Cooper’s shoulder. Cooper simply rolled his eyes at the protestation, the smile never leaving his face. “But if I were to be a grump then yes. I would be done,” He confirmed after a few seconds of silence, laughing a bit as he spoke. Cooper shook his head and laughed warmly, hugging Ted a little tighter. Yeah, he knew he’d never feel more whole than he did in that moment.

[sandorcentral]

Welcome Home (Sandor x Reader, NSFW)

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x F!Reader

Summary:  It was requested I write a fic in an AU where Sandor survives Season 8 and is married to Sansa's seamstress, in which Sandor is reunited with his wife and things get..spicey. 

Wordcount:  2435

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: canon divergence, swearing, explicit language, Sandor being mildly sexually aggressive, Sandor fucking BITES and I do not take criticism on this, me not writing dialogue for Sandor very well, size kink, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, unprotected sex. 

A/N:  I suck at writing for Sandor but this is only my first attempt.  Be kind, and comment if you feel so inclined. (:

Also I'll be reblogging this later with the AO3 link.

You'd tossed and turned all night.   Every night without Sandor by your side was fitful.  A generous quantity of wine before bed helped, just not enough. You had spent so many years comforted by your husband's warmth and sheer size that it just didn't feel right trying to find slumber without Sandor's arms wrapped around you, his warm breath and soft snores in your ear.  The burly mastiff that the Clegane house had provided as a wedding gift those years ago huffed and curled up behind your knees, attempting to provide you with the company you were so sorely lacking.  The pressure of the massive dog leaning into you was all that encouraged you to somnolence, as you imagined a much more substantial hound was providing you the warmth needed for rest.

***

The sharp clank of your door's lock shifting roused you instantly.  The mastiff sprang to its paws and a growl rose from deep in its chest, but a heavy gauntleted hand patted the creature's head and calmed it instantly.  "All right, you bloody mutt.  That's a good dog."  

It felt like a dream, hearing that deep rasp.  It had been a dream on so many occasions since Sandor left to accompany Queen Sansa on her visit to consult Bran in the Crownlands.  You'd slept so little the entire time he had been absent that it felt like a vision, suddenly seeing your husband's towering visage before you. 

After shoeing your mastiff into the hall, Sandor sat down heavily before you on the bed, and discarded his gauntlets upon the floor.  The moment you sat up he captured your face in large, calloused hands and kissed you with a ferocity that took your breath away.  His kisses could be harsh but his lips were soft, save for the fur around his mouth that tickled you.  For a lingering moment you wondered if this perfect moment was indeed just another dream.

With a low rumble under his breath Sandor pulled away, planting the softest kiss upon your forehead, before wrapping huge arms around you and folding you against his chest.  If there were seven heavens then this was indubitably one of them, surrounded by your husband's warmth, the light musk of his skin, and his fingers absent-mindedly stroking your bed-befuddled hair.  

  

"I was wondering if you were ever coming back," you jested quietly, turning your face up to meet Sandor's gaze.  Your chiding words were immediately punished by sharp teeth nipping at your lips, followed by a tender kiss where he'd now left a light red mark.  You clutched his thickly furred jaw in both hands, thumbs occasionally ghosting over his cheekbones, almost trying to convince yourself he was real.  

Sandor leaned back, suddenly looking lost.  He got like this sometimes, especially following any significant absence of you.  Originally you only saw this reaction out of him when you'd stroke or kiss the marred half of his face; you'd always loved pressing your lips to that downward-drooping brow.  It had bewildered Sandor for the longest, the fact that not only did you have no qualms about looking at him, you had no apprehensions about touching his melted skin.  An almost tranced expression overcame his face, his thumb stroking your cheek absent-mindedly as you moved closer to him.  

"I missed you," Sandor rumbled hoarsely, his wolfish gaze of his good eye dropping to your lips.  

"And I love you."

"Mm. Daft as always," Sandor grunted, with his tiny quirk of a smile, before kissing you once more with fervor.    

"I was going to offer you wine but you already taste like it," you chuckled against his mouth.  You had long since begun to associate the deep sugary flavor of red wine with Sandor's coarsely furred lips, and you were perfectly fine with that.  

"What the fuck else am I supposed to do on that ride back?  Besides.  The Broken King can afford Dornish red." 

"Don't call him that."  You gave Sandor the same puppy eyes you did when he casually insulted any of your acquaintances in the Stark family.  

Sandor snorted and suddenly you were being pushed back onto the bed.  "Quit your talking," he rasped.  "We've got lost time to make up for."   

You weren't about to argue with the huge man as his lips found your neck and he deftly undid the lacing of your dress until it loosened from your shoulders, revealing your chest and stomach to him.  Looking you up and down, Sandor absent-mindedly drew his lower lip between his teeth.  He looked hungry, not unlike the way he appeared when he was itching for a fight to start.  

More lacings came undone and more harsh kisses and bites ensued.  Sandor worked his way down your body, nipping at your collarbone then showing delicacy to your nipples - swirling his tongue around them until you shivered and tightened your fingers' grip in his hair.  You loved the fact that his hands were more than large enough to entirely encompass each of your breasts in his palms, and that his mouth was deft in his exploration of your body. 

It was not long before Sandor was wriggling your dress over your hips and discarding it upon the floor, before taking a moment to admire the form of his wife, drinking in your visage.  He had this way of smiling at you that didn't quite reach his mouth but the crinkles around his eyes betrayed that he was pleased.  He ran one large, rough hand down your side and over the sharp curve of your hip, before taking your knee and spreading you open before him.  

He kissed your inner thighs delicately, starting near your knees and moving closer and closer to your core.  His beard tickled you here and there but that was soon forgotten when his warm mouth reached your nub, his large tongue languidly lapping up and down your folds.  One calloused hand gripped the junction where your thigh met your hip, while the other tentatively stroked your entrance, gauging how ready you were.  

"Sandor, please," you breathed, and that was all he needed.  Two long, thick fingers slid into you, before curving upward in a come-hither motion, stroking the spot inside you that made your eyes roll back immediately.  His talented tongue swirling around your nub had you shuddering uncontrollably and tightening around his fingers, making Sandor sigh against you in satisfaction - a low noise that reverberated through your core and had your thighs quivering on either side of his head.  

Your fingers twisted in his hair, attempting to gather long locks away from his face the way he would for you when your mouth was full of his cock.  Gasps and mutters of his name fell from your lips as you felt shocks snaking up through your body.  His fingers quickened their pace, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, as he suckled at your nub like his life depended on it.  

For a moment you looked down at the tantalizing man between your legs, overcome with the fact that it was him you had managed to marry and that was pleasuring you, the Hound, that was exploring you so intimately.  Years of being together had never dulled this exhilaration; had never lessened the inherent excitement of being ravished by this notoriously huge, powerful man.  For a moment his "good" eye met your gaze; the other eye was too weighed down by his maimed, melted brow to see you at such an angle. 

"Sandor, I'm -"  Your voice cut off suddenly, unable to process the amount of sensation coursing through you. 

In response he slipped a third finger into you, at which point you were certain he was not simply enjoying playing with you, he was getting you ready.  "Go ahead."  His rasping voice rumbling against you, and the sudden crook of his fingers inside you against that special spot was all you needed.  You tightened your grip in Sandor's hair and cried out as stars burst behind your eyelids, your back arching up off the bed.  

A fewmioments and Sandor sat up as you lay quivering and spent, wiping your moisture from his lips and beard.  His eyes were dark with lust, and he was breathing nearly as hard as you were.  

As you slowly came down from the high that his ministrations provided, you had the pleasure of watching Sandor stand and shed his layers.  He was quite adept at undoing his own armor, the result of having never accepted a squire, swiftly leaving him in the loose small-clothes that were your honor to remove.  You sat up, still remarkably shaky in the legs, and took the hem of his tunic in your hands.  You laid a kiss upon each section of your husband's flesh that you revealed, savoring the soft tickle of the dark hair that covered the expanse of his broad chest and abdomen.  

Tunic removed, you graduated down to the buttons of his trousers, teasingly avoiding the swelling you encountered.  Your husband's arousal was no small thing to avoid - to your original intrigue and dismay, you had discovered Sandor was exactly as well-endowed as one would assume a man of his stature might be. You kissed the deep brown fur from his collarbone to his navel, while your hands worked on freeing him from the confines of his trousers.  

Cloth slipped over his hips and Sandor sighed in relief, his stiffened length no longer uncomfortably restrained.  You began laying adoring kisses on your husband's stomach, following the thick trail of brown curls from his navel to his root.  A low rumble worked its way out of the huge man as you placed more kisses on either side of his cock, his warm shaft just barely grazing your cheek.  

"Enough," Sandor growled, taking a handful of your hair, and once again you found yourself being gripped by the shoulder and pushed back onto the bed, though with more fervor this time.  He crawled onto the bed after you, a hungry, predatory gleam in his eyes as he moved atop you.  

Sandor clutched your face in both large hands, resting his forehead against yours.  His breath was hot on your face and his  warm member slid back and forth over your entrance, his leaking length heavy and rubbing against your nub.  You squirmed a little in anticipation beneath Sandor as his tip sought your entrance.

Sandor's lips found yours again before he leaned into you, the weight of his body driving his cock home.  You gasped sharply, all of you tensing as he filled you suddenly and nearly to the hilt, your fingers tangling frantically in your husband's llong hair. You couldn't blame him - he was desperate, he needed to be one with his wife after all this time, but that didn't change the fact that in his urgency Sandor was forgetting you might need some extra time to adjust to him after all these moons of his absence.  

Sandor drew back, his lips exploring from your jaw to your ear. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you yelped as he bottomed out in you with the next thrust; he still wasn't even buried to the hilt.  With a few insistent strokes the burn of him stretching you began to fade, or it became easier to ignore when Sandor filling you to the brim was sending shocks resonating through your core.  

If you really needed convincing to ignore the short-lived pain of his entrance, Sandor sank his teeth into the side of your neck, distracting you with a sensation he knew you responded well to.  The bite was sharp but sent a delicious, dull ache resonating through you as he held on, like a dog mounting its bitch.  You were fully aware that this would be a blue or purple bruise tomorrow, the way his teeth were baring into you, but you didn't care.  In fact the prospect excited you particularly.  Few things satisfied you as much as visible reminders that you belonged to the Hound - it was your honor to wear the marks of the Clegane dog claiming you, branded in your own misplaced blood.  Perhaps one day that honor would be worn as a swollen belly full of Sandor's pups.  

You wrapped your legs snugly around his midsection, allowing a less overwhelming angle as his pace began to pick up rapidly.  What had been relatively methodical strokes were now frantic and restless, eliciting gasps and shrill moans from you every time Sandor's cock came up against that wall deep inside you, sending tendrils of sharp pleasure up through you.  Your eyes rolled back in your head and the rest of the world began to drop away, nothing existing in that moment but your union with Sandor; the musk of his skin surrounding you, the tickle of his dark helical strands falling around your face, the breath-taking sensation of him filling you relentlessly.  He was absolutely intoxicating.  

The force of his rutting eventually sent you over the edge again, and you cried out frantically enough that you stuffed your own fist into your mouth with celerity.  Sandor immediately grasped your wrist, holding your hand captive above your head.  "No," he snarled, gripping the hair of the back of your head, "let them hear what I'm doing to you."  Undoubtedly referring to adjacent rooms in the castle.  You whimpered against Sandor's furred lips, unable to control your body tightening around him convulsively, drawing from him his own climax.  Sandor took your throat between his teeth with a low snarl as he suddenly spilled into you, his warm seed filling you to the point of overflowing.  

You kept your legs tightened around your husband's waist as he loosened his teeth on your flesh and rested his damp forehead against the swoop of your shoulder. You were unwilling to experience the absence of him within your body just yet.  Sandor's cock still pulsed and twitched, his breath ragged on your neck, as your insides milked the last few drops out of him. 

A small whine escaped you as Sandor withdrew slowly, settling beside you on the bed and collecting you to his chest.  You nuzzled against the soft curls of his collarbone and gently entwined your legs with his.  "I love you," Sandor rumbled sleepily, resting his chin atop your head.  

"Welcome home, love."  You laid a languid series of tender kisses beneath his jaw, though Sandor was already snoring softly, arms still clasped solidly around you.  You smiled against his chest, and it wasn't long until you fell into the only peaceful sleep you'd found in fortnights.  

[brandyllyn]

Make dreams truths

Dark Ezra (Prospect) x f!reader

Summary: Ezra had been a killer. Was known to be a rogue. Occasionally even a degenerate... Words: 4300. [Read it on AO3]

My Masterlist

Rating: Explicit Warnings: somnophilia. dubcon / noncon. smut. hella smut. oral (f&m). PiV. fingering. cumplay. knife. dead dove: do not eat.

A/N: I think this is actually not entirely out of character for what we know of pre-movie Ezra but it’s definitely not a good side of him. Heed the warnings.

The tent was quiet but Ezra was wide awake, hands stacked behind his head while he stared at the canvas roof. A scant few inches away you slept, the soft sounds of your breathing filling the tent and air around him. Close enough that he could reach out and touch you.

It hadn’t been intentional, this sharing of living quarters. When this rotation had started you had your own tent, as did the remainder of the team, each in their own little abodes of solitude ringing a common area. But a storm had put an end to that, taking with it a third of the structures. And so here you were, in a pile of blankets tucked between his cot and the tent wall.

There had been other options, of course. Other men who had jumped at the chance, hungry eyes roving over you when their offers had been made. Ezra’s hands clenched into fists and he took a deep calming breath as he remembered. Of six men, four had been able to offer you a place to lay your pillow - and he’d been pleasantly surprised when you took his. He hadn’t missed the assessing looks from the others each night when he held the tent flap back for you, the way their greed and jealousy tainted the toxic air of the planet even further.

You were a dove among snakes, and well you knew it. Your delicate fingers useful in the harvesting well beyond even his own clumsy attempts. The mining itself required muscle, heft and weight and work to find the dig sites. But the extraction, the small movements and fragile tenderness to obtain the gems…

That called for a woman’s tender touch.

You were safe - as safe as anyone could be on the Green. Safe with these men who circled you like writhing asps, waiting for you to fall into their embrace. Their greed outweighed their lust for the moment, and every sure touch of your hands on a gem was another thousand credits for each of them. But it didn’t follow that just because you were useful that it didn’t mean they didn’t want you, or that they might not turn their fangs on you given half the chance….

You had not, as yet, given them the chance. But with your tent gone you had needed to venture into a snake’s den. To curl up with a serpent of your choosing.

And you had chosen him.

He had thought, nay hoped, that you might join him in his bunk that first night. He thought he had been clear that you were welcome, turning back the corner of the scratchy blankets and letting it sit invitingly while he used a bathing wipe to remove the day’s grime. But when he’d turned around you were on the floor, tucking your legs beneath your own blanket and thanking him again for his hospitality.

The bunk was small, admittedly, and your pallet did look quite spacious - if not actually more comfortable. But as the spins drug on you had not invited him to your bed either.

You made a soft sound, the blankets rustling when you reseated yourself. Sleep had never come easy to him and tonight was no different. His mind raced to and fro, picking up scattered thoughts and discarding them just as easily. It had always been like that for him, focus attained through necessity rather than desire.

Desire, that was not a word for lonely nights like this. Not with your soft body within his reach. He knew it better than anyone on this blasted moon. Knew the curves and lines, the dips and valleys. No one but him got to see you outside of your suit, see the sweep of your back or the length of your leg when you scrubbed yourself off in the evening. Even the light hairs dusting your arms had been a revelation, soft beneath his fingers one night when he had laid his bare hand on you to gain your attention.

Skin, even the frailest touch, was a rarity on the Green. And so much of it was within his reach.

If he held his hand out, a little to the side, he’d be able to feel the heat rising from your body. You were practically in bed with him, just a foot lower than his own perch. It was easy to close his mind and imagine, to drown himself in what it would be like to have you truly with him. Your skin and his…

You hid your assets from the others, a cap covering your hair during meals, careful application of some dark makeup to make you look haggard and wane. Not that it mattered that much, a woman’s body was all that was required to strike a man’s lust in the reaches. But Ezra knew what you looked like without it. Knew the arch of your cheek and the fullness of your lips. Knew exactly how attractive you would be even compared with the finest women in the galaxy.

All of that beauty, a fingertip away.

He could feel himself getting hard and sighed, reaching down and roughly palming his cock. Was it worth it? He had nothing nearby to gather his emissions and the thought of trying to sleep in sticky wet briefs was as unappealing as the idea of getting up to fetch something.

You moved again and his mind wandered. He could come in you. That would solve his dilemma. In your mouth or cunt… or hell, this was his own dark reverie, he could come in that pretty ass of yours. On your knees, your back tilted just right while he fucked himself inside you. Would you let him? The you that lived in the recesses of his mind would. She let him do any number of degenerate things to her body, things he had only before paid people do. But you, the you the flounced nude through his imaginings, begged him for those same actions.

He groaned, annoyed with himself. He was hard now, his aching cock a reminder of the lasciviousness of his thoughts. He resigned himself to the rough scratch of the blanket as a vessel when he heard a sound from you. Something he’d never heard before.

A moan.

It was soft, deep. Curling through the tent and settling into the space behind his jaw. He froze, fingers just barely edging under the band of his briefs, his own heartbeat nearly drowning out his thoughts. Waited to see if you might do it again - provide an aural accompaniment to his depraved actions of the evening.

The next noise was a needy whimper.

He captured it, reeling it onto the spool of his fantasies and allowing it to settle in its own alcove of his mind. It was the noise you would make while he flicked at your clit. The sound of you while he sucked on your pert nipples. The shattered note that would break from you just before you begged him to fuck you.

His fingers were wrapped around his cock now, squeezing slightly and tugging himself in short strokes. He remained silent, ears straining. While his actions might be a distant second to his desires, it was more than he was expecting when he turned the lights off this evening.

"Ezra…"

Pleasure shot through him and he squeezed the base of his cock hard, stopping himself from coming right then. He hadn’t imagined it. He hadn’t. Even his own addled consciousness couldn’t have imagined that breathy plea. Whatever somnolent world you found yourself in, he was the star. Just as you were the luminary of his own. He turned to his side, careful to be quiet, careful not to break you free from the shackles of sleep that held you.

You were right there. One arm thrown over your head, blankets pushed to your waist, the other hand resting on your stomach. He watched you in the dim filtered light, watched the slight movement as your thighs rubbed together and you moaned again.

The little dove was dreaming of him - and a fine dream it seemed to be.

He turned all the way to his stomach, pulling one arm beneath him and resting his chin on his fist, the other reaching down to hover over your body. Did he dare? Did he dare defile you with his touch? You took the decision away, you back arching on the next breathy gasp and his fingers brushed over your hardened nipples.

Your groans wove together, a symphony of need and desire. His hand followed you down, circling through your tank top, flicking gently back and forth and then softly rolling the puckered flesh between his fingers. He should wake you, break you from your dream and offer you the reality of his body.

But he didn’t.

Laying next to you, above you, he watched his fingers trace upwards until they meet soft bare flesh. Running the tips of them under the edge of your top. Your lips parted, face turning towards him, and he wondered if you were really awake. Offering yourself to his hands and his touch. He trailed his fingers up, over the tendons of your throat, caressing your jaw, and finally stopping to rest them on the plush curve of your lips. He tugged and your mouth opened slightly, enough for him to slip his forefinger inside, feel the hot, wet warmth of you encase him. Venturing further, he touched your tongue and his vision went blurry when your lips closed around the digit and you sucked briefly on it.

His own breathing sounded harsh to his ears, unbearably loud in the near silence of the tent. His finger fell from your mouth and he cupped your chin lightly, tilting your face towards his and whispering your name - searching for any sign of wakefulness. But you continued to sleep, not so much as a flutter of your eyelashes in response.

He removed his touch from you gently, carefully. Now that he had committed to his course of action he was loath to see it come to an untimely end. He shifted in his bunk, sliding downwards slightly, adjusting himself so he could roll his cock into the hard bar at the edge. It wasn’t optimal, it wasn’t you, but it would do for the moment.

Your chosen serpent, uncoiling. Watching. Hunting.

Ezra studied your body with an almost dispassionate gaze. To an outside observer he could be considering an aurelac dig, or a piece of machinery. But his eyes were bright, his breath coming in unsteady shudders. You were a puzzle at the moment, one he needed to twist and pry at to find his way towards completion.

He wanted to see your breasts, but tugging at your top was likely to wake you. Your blankets were draped over your waist - easy to move - but the influx of cool air might stir you from your slumber. The other things he wanted… well those would definitely rouse you.

In the end, you made his decision for him, turning away with a soft mumble. Your back to him and kicking your feet out. Now the soft swell of your ass was exposed to the cool night air, the plain white cotton of your underwear visible to where it disappeared between your thighs. His lips parted as he reached out, cupping you gently in his palm, feeling the warmth even through the cloth covering you.

It was easy from there to let his fingers dip further, to burrow into the cleft and drag downwards until he was nudging at the soft flesh of your thighs. He stroked softly, repeatedly, small little pets over your cunt - resisting the urge to twist the fabric away and plunge his fingers inside of you. You would be wet, he could already feel the slight dampness soaking through your underwear. Whatever you were dreaming about - and Kevva he hoped it was still him - it was making your body weep with want.

He caressed your thigh, urging you to move, to change positions again, and he held his breath when you did so. Rolling towards him and fully on to your back with one leg bent, knee resting in line with your hip, blankets abandoned. Fuck he couldn’t stop himself, slipping from the bunk and carefully placing one knee between your spread legs, the other on the outside of your thigh. He felt guilt, for a moment, when he pulled his pocket knife from the belt hanging off the edge of the bed. When he carefully slipped it beneath the fabric of your underwear and sliced through it with minimal effort. He knew for a fact you had limited pairs with you.

But now he could touch you directly, feel your slick on the tips of his fingers as he played with your cunt and any regrets he might have had quickly vanished. He leaned forward onto his free hand, settling it next to your head, careful to keep his body from touching yours. You writhed in your sleep, a breathy moan falling from your lips, and then what he wanted to hear.

"Ezra…"

He couldn’t have kept himself from you for all the stars in the sky. Gently, smoothly, he slid his middle finger inside of you. Felt your heat and slick surround him. Felt your body squeeze him and pull him in deeper. Fuck you felt good, so tight on the relatively small girth of his finger. He could already imagine how you would feel on his cock. How you would have to stretch to accommodate him.

His jaw worked while he watched you, watched your brow furrow and your lips part as he worked you open. Carefully, oh so carefully, he lowered his mouth until it hovered just over yours. Held his breath and tasted the pants of air that fell from you. His body strained with the effort, every muscle urging him to press down, press you down into the blankets, let his body cover yours.

But he restrained. He wasn’t ready for you to be awake yet. There was still a chance you might tell him no.

Instead he regretfully pulled his fingers from your warmth, smiling to himself when your hips rolled upwards to chase them. The disappointed mumble that fell from your lips. "Shh," he whispered to himself, shifting his weight down your body, "soon little dove. Just let me…"

It was difficult, you were not settled in a way to make room for his body and he didn’t want to risk transposing you into something more convenient. Instead he laid his body next to yours, propping one hand between your spread legs and arching himself over your thighs.

You tasted sweet.

Maybe it had been too long since he had the taste of another on his tongue. Maybe it was the clandestine nature of the evening. Maybe it was just actually you… whatever it was he drew his tongue through your folds and couldn’t help the low moan that vibrated from him.

His eyes never left you as he licked at your center, staring over the rise of your stomach, your breasts, watching your face. This wasn’t about pleasure, not really. If he was going to bring you to pleasure this way it would wake you for sure. No, this was about learning your body. About having the taste and feel and smell of you filling his senses.

This was about seeing how delicately he could balance you on a razor’s edge before he was inevitably wounded by the task.

He learned every dip, every crevasse. Pressed the tip of his tongue to your aching hole and felt your hips arch beneath him. Swirled it around your clit for a moment and heard your soft whimper. Rubbed his lips along yours in the most secret of kisses, conscious of how the stubble dotting his jaw rasped against your skin.

It wasn’t enough.

It had been several minutes since you last called out his name. Several minutes of your breathy whimpers but not the dulcet tenor of your tongue wrapping around the syllables that hung his identity on him like a chain.

He ached for it.

Slowly, he drug himself away from your heat. With one hand he reached over his shoulder, fisting the fabric and pulling, tossing his shirt to the side once he was free of it. His pants followed quickly and he knelt next to you, hand seeking the knife he had tossed to the side earlier. With two fingers he carefully lifted the hem of your shirt, sliding the sharp blade beneath and watching the fabric part over its deadly sheen.

Oh Kevva, you were gorgeous. Bare below him, the tatters of your clothing perfectly framing your body. He hesitated with the blade near your shoulders, turning it slightly and lightly touching it to your neck. To the vein he knew pulsed life through you. So vulnerable beneath him. So trusting to sleep so soundly.

He could do anything to you.

With a grimace he closed the knife. He was not a good man, but he was not that one either.

Carefully he positioned himself over your body, his knees resting on each side of your stomach. He reached down with one hand, pressing his cock until the head just touched the skin of your chest. A slight shift and even in the low light he could see the trail of his own cum glisten on your skin, trailing from his cock, easing and preparing your body for when he moved back up. He was hypnotized, unable to tear his eyes away from the way his hardness contrasted to your softness. His cock almost grotesque against your tender delicacy.

Another shift in position and he could rest some of his weight on one hand, the other continuing to hold just the tip of himself to you. Painting your ribs with his precum. Drawing designs into the swell of your breasts. Nudging against your nipple and retreating until a thin line was stretched between the two points.

It was entrancing.

A slight shift further and he was leaning over you, pressing his cock to your lower lip, sighing to himself when your mouth opened ever so slightly and he could push forward until he met the hard edge of your teeth.

"Open for me, little dove," he groaned, pressing his thumb to your jaw. "I seek only paradise."

Your chin followed the pressure of his fingers and he slipped inside. The soft flesh of your tongue met his cock, the give of the muscle cradling him. The sight was almost too much for him. That beautiful, warm, perfect fucking mouth wrapped around his cock. His shaft twitched, his balls drawing up slightly. Only his quick reflexes kept him from coming on the spot, one hand reaching down to squeeze the base of his cock painfully as he pulled himself away from you.

You licked your lips and he squeezed harder, closing his eyes to block out the sight of you spread beneath him. Cautiously, with just one finger, he traced along the soft bow of your lips, wetting the digit before trailing it down the column of your throat.

Your heartbeat was fast, erratic.

He grinned, shifting his weight downwards, gently urging your thighs further apart with one hand while he held his body away from yours with the other. He settled there, his cock just barely nudging at your cunt, his mouth lowering to hiss into your ear.

"How long have you been awake, dove?"

Your hands lifted and clenched on his back, pulling him down to you and he allowed you your wish, sliding his cock inside you in the same movement. You gasped and your nails dug into his skin, urging him further. Ezra felt his lips pull back, his teeth sinking into your neck.

The dove was well and truly caught now.

He didn’t hold himself back, fucking up into your wet warmth hard, feeling himself touch the very heart of you. Your gasp into his ear was music and he repeated the motion just to hear the notes turn into a melody of whimpers and cries.

"You didn’t answer my question," he sucked your earlobe into his mouth while he murmured his words. Worrying the soft flesh between his teeth. "How long have you been enjoying my ministrations? Allowing me to debauch you?" He bit down hard on the word and you rewarded him with a sigh of his name.

"Your… your mouth," you manage to gasp out and he groaned, pressing his face to your neck. You had let him hold a knife to you. Use your body as a canvas for his weeping cock. Opened your mouth and allowed him to…

He jerked his body away and gripped your hips tight, unwrapping your legs from his waist and lifting you. Shoving you. Throwing you across the edge of his cot and pressing a hand to your spine to bend you over.

"What a pretty sight you are." His hand trailed down, pulling at the remains of your shirt and tossing it to the side. Your knees slid apart without his prompting and he stroked your thigh while he muttered his praise into your skin. "Good girl."

There was no mistaking the low moan at his words and he filed the information away for later. Nor could he fail to notice the clench of your muscles when he slid inside you again. He let his head fall back, closing his eyes and digging small indentations on your hips with the touch of his fingers.

"Laying here beside me, moaning my name, letting me touch you…" The sound of his hips snapping into yours was filling the tent. The wet suck of your cunt around his cock. He jerked on your shoulder, pulling you upright and wrapping both of his arms around you. Enclosing you in the coils of his body. His hand was wide enough to fully enclose your throat. Your own rose to grip it, wrapping your fingers around his forearm and pulling.

He tutted in your ear, gripping you harder. "This is exactly what you wanted and you are going to take it."

He could look down your body from this position, see your breasts bouncing as he fucked his cock into you, one of his hands pulling sharply on your nipple. The pretty spread of your thighs, even his own flesh when he pulled himself out of you just before ramming home again.  He let out a soft hum and pressed his cheek to yours. "Are you sure you don’t want to put those fingers to better use?"

One hand stayed on his arm but the other… he watched as the other dropped between your thighs. Fingers dipping downwards and then settling over your clit in sharp, jerky motions. You clenched down on him and he rewarded you with an open-mouth kiss on your cheek.

"Tell me pretty dove, what manner of serpent makes you sing?"

You made a strangled sound and he released you just slightly, allowing you to pull in a gasp of air. At the same time he delved his other hand between your parted thighs, knocking your hand out of the way. Circling where his cock is still pumping inside of you before rising higher. He captured your clit between two fingers, rubbing back and forth in time with the thrust of his hips.

"Ezra," the sound of his name is wrenched from you. A benediction, an offering, a prayer tossed carelessly into the darkness. He was no god, but he could certainly see the appeal of veneration. Of your veneration.

"You are exquisite," he groaned, feeling his balls draw up. "Can you fly for me? Toss yourself into the pit with me, my soiled dove?" He pinched your clit between his fingers and rolled it in quick circles and you convulsed. You would have screamed but his hand on your throat cut the noise off, his eyelids fluttering closed as he enjoyed the feeling of taking you apart with his cock and his fingers.

"Come here," he pulled at your shoulder, leaning back on his heels, "show me how you worship."

Your body was still shaking from your own pleasure but you took him into your mouth without hesitation. His cock sliding over your lips and tongue. His hands helped you when you faltered, digging into your neck and pulling you down until he slid all the way into your throat.

"Oh dearest dove I-"

Your muscles spasmed around his cock and he came. White flashing at the corner of his vision and his fingers clenching tight to your skin, cutting off your airways while he spilled into your mouth.

Le petit mort, they called it.

The little death.

Ezra had traded in death more than once in his ventures. Had seen the light go out of another’s eyes at his hand. He did not enjoy it, but would indulge when necessity dictated his actions. But this…

Holding your life in his hands while he was reborn.

This he enjoyed. This he had every intention of indulging himself in whenever the opportunity presented itself. Engorging himself even.

Your eyes met his and he stroked his thumb over the corner of your mouth, loosening his hold on your throat and catching a drop of his cum and pushing it back between your lips. Eyelashes lowering as you didn’t hesitate to take him, sucking on him and holding his gaze.

Yes, you had chosen your serpent. His venom still glistened on your lips.

He would have to see that you did not regret it.

.

.

Ezra Taglist:

@beautyagegoodnesssize , @iwantadecentblogname , @pintsizemama , @codenamewife , @michaelperry , @qwtyy , @thisgirl-knm ,​

@pascals-cat, @hotspacepilots , @rosiefridayrogersunday 

Permanent Taglist:

(y’all just remember you asked to be on this list)

[whimsicallywayward15]

Kinktober 2021, Day - 14: Reward.

A/n: Hello, hello! My sleepy ass wrote this in literally less than two hours. I'm gonna go and proceed to die now.

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Pairing: Leviathan x MC (Ariadne Kondos)

Rating: Explicit (18+ Audiences)

Content Tags: Demon Form Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Transformations, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Possessive Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut

Summary: Leviathan gets a reward from MC (Ariadne Kondos) for studying hard.

Prompt: Transformations | Breeding | Pillow Humping

Word Count: 1,271

Note: Find the prompt list I am following here.

AO3 Link

“Finally! I was beginning to think that the midterms would probably go on forever!” Asmodeus exclaimed as he walked alongside his brother Satan and their human housemate. “Hey? How about we got to The Fall this evening? The strawberry blonde suggested. However, the human shook her head.

“I would have. But, I have something to do this evening. Do have fun though!” She exclaimed with a grin. 

“Something? Or… someone?” The question has the woman flustering, her cheeks and the tip of her ears hot. Of course the Avatar of Lust would notice. The human’s reaction had both the demons chuckling. “Oooooooh~ Seems like I hit the nail on its head! How interesting.” The strawberry blonde remarked with a snicker. “I need to know aaaaaaall the details when we go shopping tomorrow, darling~”

Ariadne shook her head. “Uh huh, Asmo~ Loose lips sink ships.” She told him before walking ahead of the two demons. Once at a considerable distance, she stopped and turned back to look at them. “Come on, slowpokes!” She teased as they increased their pace to catch up to her.

That evening, the blonde stood in front of the full length mirror that occupied a corner of her room. On the bed, there lay an array of different lingerie sets as she tried them all, trying to decide on the one she wanted to wear for a certain indigo-haired demon. Leviathan had been extremely stressed the entire duration of the midterms, working his ass off to study and score satisfactorily to escape Lucifer’s wrath.

Having left the examinations behind them for now, Ariadne wanted to help the demon in relaxing. And not the way he usually did. And therefore, she had gone ahead to buy some lovely lingerie sets to wear for him. 

Finally, she settled on a lace and sheer lingerie set with matching garters, which barely hid anything. Once she had worn it, she opened the camera on her DDD and proceeded to click a selfie of hers in the most tantalising pose before sending it to the aforementioned demon, a sly smirk playing at the corner of her rosebud mouth as she texted him that she was on her way. She then dressed up in knee-length shorts and a tank top before making her way to Leviathan’s room. It was really a good thing that all the other occupants of the House of Lamentation were out except the Third-born otaku and her.

The moment she reached the entrance to the otaku’s room, she knocked gently before slipping inside quietly. The Avatar of Envy sat on the beanbag, staring at his DDD, his eyes wide. He didn’t notice her, at least not until she had gotten closer. On the screen of the device, the woman could see the picture she had sent minutes prior.

“Ahem.” She cleared her throat to get his attention, almost giggling at how flushed he was already looking when he looked up at her. “Are… are you trying to kill me?!” He asked her just as she took her rightful place in his lap, kissing him. Almost instantly, the demon felt his weeks-long stress evaporating.

As the kiss deepened, the Third-born managed to tear open her shirt, his breath getting caught in his throat. “Oh fuck…” He cursed as his lips moved to her jaw before trailing down her neck, making her gasp in surprise. It was clear that her teasing pictures had done more than what she had expected. Ariadne ground her clothed pussy against his crotch as his hand reached up to squeeze one of the soft mounds on her chest. It was evident that the demon was already rock hard underneath her.

While she continued her teasing, Leviathan tore off her shorts with his demonic strength, revealing the entire ensemble for his eyes to feast on. The fact that she was wearing his colours made him growl as he suddenly transformed into his demon form. “I hope no one has seen you in this yet.” He growled once more, backing his hips into her teasing ones and making her moan, his claws digging into the soft skin of her thighs.

“N-no! This is… this is only for you. Your reward for working so hard.” She replied wantonly, her brain short-circuiting as always at the sight of his demon form and at the feeling of his claws on her plush thighs. “Good.” He replied, sucking at her pulse point and leaving a lovely bruise in the wake of his plundering lips. “Oh Levi…” She gasped out.

His fingers trailed up and down her sides as he looked at her, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “How attached are you to this?” He asked bluntly. “N-not much. I… I bought it for you.” She answered quickly, a guttural groan emanating from her sinful lips when he systematically shredded every piece of the orange lingerie set. Immediately, his lips found a nipple, his hand moving to tease the other one. He played with the perky buds for a long time before his mouth and hand switched places, putting her through similar torture once more as her walls clenched around nothing, begging to be filled up.

“Levi please…” She breathed out, the teasing becoming too much for her. He moved to push his sweatpants down his ass, enough for his dick to be freed from its confines, standing up proudly. Ariadne drooled at the sight, looking at him with pleading eyes as he grasped his dick, sliding it along her dripping folds and making her moan at the delicious friction. However, it wasn’t enough for her. 

“You’re mine.” Leviathan growled into her ear. “Tell me you’re mine, Ariadne.”

“Shit. I’m yours, Levi.” She moaned back as the head of his cock nudged her throbbing clit. “I’m fucking yours. Just fuck me, Levi.” The moment those words left her mouth, he slipped inside her waiting pussy, groaning at the feeling of her walls hugging him. Meanwhile, Ariadne pulled him closer, her nails digging into his back just as she felt something nudge at her back entrance while he began rocking in and out of her. It was his tail. The appendage moved downward towards her leaking cunt, covering itself in the copious amounts of her essence that was starting to flow down her thigh before moving back to her asshole, teasing it. Before long, however, it pushed past the tight ring of muscles, leaving them both a mess. 

“S-so tight… so perfect around me… don’t wanna leave this pussy…” He babbled as he fucked her pussy, his tail pumping in and out of her asshole. “S-so good, Levi... “ Ariadne moaned, clenching down on him when he hit her sweet spot. He then angled his hips a certain way before picking up his pace, now hitting that spot with every thrust, making her lose every bit of articulation. All she could do was call out his name every time he buried himself upto the hilt.

“I’m close-” The Avatar of Envy informed her, his pace becoming absolutely brutal. “M-me t-too-!” She stuttered out, the pace just too much for her human body. Without a warning, her orgasm hit her like a freight train, leaving her mind completely blank. A few thrusts later, he joined her, biting her shoulder. 

Once they had come down from their respective highs, Leviathan smashed their lips together while holding her close. “Are you ok?” He asked softly. “Yeah. And you?”

“More than ok. If that’s gonna be my reward every time, I might just take these examinations even more seriously though.” He replied, earning him a smack on the forehead.

DM me or comment if you want to be tagged in future posts!

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni)

Warnings: dramatics, gaslighting, pining pining pining, drinking, attempted drugging, blacking out, vomiting, Nile and Hitch hook up, did I mention pining, one Greek word (thank you again, @cynnyc .)

It’s nearly ten PM as you climb the steps to the PKA house. The brisk October air makes you pull your jacket tighter around yourself and move toward the door faster. You probably should’ve texted your target first, checked to see if he’s even here, but you’re not about to stand outside and wait for a reply, not when you can just knock and ask a living soul.

 It’s Reiner who answers, looking extremely tired with dark circles under his eyes. You idly wonder if he and the other new kids are being kept awake as another stupid fucking hazing ritual, but you don’t really have the time for small talk. 

 “Erwin here?”

 The blond nods and steps out of the way. “His room. Might already be asleep.”

 Shrugging, you walk inside, mumbling, “Just gonna have to wake his ass up then.”

 Which you do, climbing up to the third story after Reiner tells you which room he’s in now. You knock on the door a couple times and almost feel bad when Erwin answers, clearly rumpled in pajama pants and bedhead. 

 He squints at you, and you snort. “Sleep before ten? You some kinda nerd or somethin’?”

 “What do you want?” He gruffs, voice a little scratchy. 

 You can see part of the room behind him, looks pretty similar to the one from last year. That had been the only time you’d really gotten a close look into his space, and it had not ended well. You hope this time will be different. 

 “I needed to talk to you about something.”

 Erwin scrubs a hand down his face then rests his head against his doorframe. “I’ll take a wild guess and say this is about Mike.”

 You push your lips out in a pout and respond, “Maybe.”

 He lets you into his room, catches you off guard when he asks, “Door open or closed?” 

 “Depends. You gonna come onto me again?”

 He chuckles and shakes his head. “I learned my lesson last time.”

 “You can shut it then.”

 Taking up the chair at his desk, you watch as Erwin just crawls back under his covers and fixes cerulean eyes on you. 

 “Why haven’t you been talking to him?”

 Something in your stomach flips, eyes growing as you splutter, “I haven’t been talking to him? He hasn’t been talking to me!” 

 Erwin frowns. “What? He’s been bitching to me incessantly.”

 “And, I’ve been bitching to Hitch incessantly.”

 Groaning into his pillow, Erwin holds out his hand, and you hear a muffled command, “Give me your phone.”

 You do without hesitation, rattle off the passcode then sit and wait as Erwin scrolls through what you assume to be your settings or contacts. The thought that you should be a little scared crosses your mind—you do have some compromising photos in an unlocked folder—but judging by Erwin’s current mood, he doesn’t seem interested in anything except sleeping. 

 “That motherfucker,” he grunts.

 “What?”

 “You blocked his number.”

 “What?” This time is much louder and panicked. “No, I didn’t! I swear I didn’t.”

 He tosses you the device back and gestures in a ‘see for yourself’ manner. “Someone did.”

 Your blood begins to boil as you stare down at your short list of blocked contacts, Mike’s name right on top.

 “Are you fucking kidding me?” You quickly tap to remedy the problem, hands beginning to shake. “I don’t even know how—”

 “My money’s on the shitty boyfriend,” Erwin mumbles.

 You want to text Mike, but you have no idea what to say. Sorry we haven’t talked in over a month. Zeke figured out my phone password and blocked your number haha. You doubt that would fly.

 If you had just come to Erwin sooner, most of this could have been avoided. You don’t know if you’re more upset at Zeke or at yourself.

 Zeke. Definitely Zeke. That is some wildly possessive behavior. That’s isolation. The idea makes you nauseous. This is just another instance of him showing what you believe to be his true self. Between all the fighting and grudges, you’re at your wit’s end. Just the other day, the two of you had gotten into yet another argument when you happened to get a glance at the Tinder icon in his app list. 

 “Why do you still have that?” You’d asked with a frown. You really hadn’t planned on it turning into an ordeal. 

 “Have what?”

 “Tinder.”

 “What are you talking about?”

 Then, right in front of your eyes, he had deleted the app. You saw it, but that didn’t stop Zeke from looking at you with a straight face and telling you, “I think you’re just confused, babe.”

 That’s when it turned into an ordeal. That’s when you got defensive and incredulous. That’s when he just kept telling you that you were wrong, that you were just seeing things, and after a good thirty minutes once you were nice and high strung, he actually had you halfway convinced. 

 Because he always sounds so sure of himself, always makes it so that his word is law. You had doubted yourself—you’re still doubting yourself. 

 “Jesus, I can’t believe this,” you breathe, leaning back in the rolling chair and staring up at the ceiling. You can believe it, actually, you just hadn’t expected him to sink that low. “What do I even say to Mike?”

 Erwin finally pushes himself into a sitting position and stretches. Seems like he’s just resigning himself to being awake. “Whatever it is, you should probably talk it out in person.”

 “Probably.”

 “Might be a little difficult now, though.”

 Heaving a sigh, you mutter, “Yeah, I assume he's pretty pissed at me.”

 Erwin hums, but his voice comes out a little unsure when he says, “Well, that, but also…”

 You're suddenly sitting straight up. “Also what?”

 Making a face, the man across from you enlightens you to the fact that, “Mike is kind of seeing someone. I think.”

 You blink at him, trying to process what he’s telling you. Mike is… With someone? You feel sick.

 But, you shouldn’t because he’s allowed to branch out. You surely did, and you hurt him in the process. 

 “It, uh… It gets worse.”

 Swallowing, you try to hide the lump in your throat when you rasp, “How?”

 Don’t cry. Do not cry. You have no right to cry. 

 “I’m about ninety-nine percent positive it’s Zeke’s ex.”

 Every muscle in your face suddenly relaxes, but it isn’t in a good way. Instead of frowning, your brow softens into its normal position. You release the tension in your jaw, the teeth that were just clenched falling away from each other as your lips part. Erwin moves in and out of focus as your gaze becomes blurry, hot tears gathering at your waterline, and now you don’t even try to stop them from falling. 

 Fucking Rhi. She had been nothing more than an annoyance before, a peppy little annoyance trying to grab your boyfriend’s attention. But, now… Now, you’re ready to fight. Parking lot brawl, throwing fists and pulling hair, and screeching—you want to destroy her. 

 “Oh.” You sniffle then wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “That’s good. I mean—” a quiet cough, “—that’s good for him. I’m glad.”

 Erwin snorts. “No, you’re not,” his volume rises a bit. “So, don’t pretend like you are. God, why are you guys so bad at this?”

 You let out a humorless laugh and shrug. “‘Cause I have shitty timing, I guess.” You bite your lip and look back to the ceiling, trying not to weep too openly, but your lungs are burning, preventing you from breathing, and your heart is bruising your ribcage, and you think your bones just might shatter inside of your chest. 

 There’s a rustling on the bed, and when you look back at Erwin, you find him laying down again but holding the blankets up in front of him. 

 “Come on.”

 “W-what? Erwin, that is literally the last thing we—”

 “I’m not trying to fuck,” he says, eyes heavy as he stares at you. “You need to relax, and I need to sleep, so just come on."

 You consider for a while, looking from Erwin to the mattress. You’re really not that close, would barely even call him your friend, but you did come to him tonight. You had chosen to confide in him. He makes some pretty questionable decisions sometimes, but you still believe that ultimately he’s a good person. 

 “Fine, but put a shirt on.”

 “Then, grab one. Second drawer. Make sure it’s soft.”

 You roll your eyes but do as you're told, running your hands over a few t-shirts until you find one that he should be pleased enough with. He tugs it on then collapses back on the bed, and you kick your shoes off then slip out of your jacket and under the covers.

 You’re facing him, trying to keep a few inches between yourself and his chest, but as you think about the position you’re in—why you’re in it, the tears start flowing freely again, and you’re holding back little whimpers, shoulders shaking at the effort. Erwin breathes in deeply then uses the arm he isn’t laying on to pull you to him, shushing you as he rubs the space between your shoulder blades with a warm hand. 

 “We’ll get it sorted out,” he promises, voice quiet as he starts to doze. 

 It’s not how you expected to end the night, but you suppose there are worse ways.

*

 Mike learns a lot of information in a very short amount of time. Nile meets him outside of the fitness center to give him the scoop, trying to look casual as he walks, but Mike can tell he's nervous. 

 He starts by asking if Mike has talked to you at all recently, and no, he has not. So, Nile tells him that you broke things off with Zeke and apparently it got messy. 

 "Something about him being a manipulative bastard," Nile waves a hand. 

 "Doesn’t surprise me. Took her long enough."

 You've been hanging around the Pike house again, sometimes by yourself and sometimes with Hitch—"Who's really fucking cute, by the way." Obviously Nile and Marie are in the 'off' portion of their relationship cycle. "And, you would know all this if you would just start coming around again. It's stupid to pay dues and not actually engage with the frat, dude."

 "I've just been busy with school," Mike tells him. It's only a half lie. His senior courses are kind of kicking his ass, but he's also been busying himself with Rhi who is… tolerable. 

 "Whatever. Halloween party is in, like, a week. If you don't show up, I'm gonna be real pissed."

 "I'll be there, Nile."

 "Okay, then lemme prepare you for one more thing."

 Mike stops walking and looks at the smaller man who inhales deeply then blows air out through his teeth. 

 "So, uh, she's hanging around again, right? And, you're not there, so it seems like she's sort of, uh, latched onto…" He makes a face, and Mike leans back. 

 "Don't fucking tell me."

 Nile cringes. "Yeah. I don't think they're fucking or anything. I haven't heard them in his room like I used to hear the two of you."

 "She goes into his room?" Mike has to flex his hand by his side, but the brick wall of the library they've stopped in front of is looking mighty nice. Break a few bones, bleed a little, it'll feel good. 

 "Yeah, but, like, they're nowhere near as close as you and her."

 "How close we used to be. It's been so fucking long since we've even talked, dude. And, any time I try to catch her on campus, the dickbag is with her—"

 "Well, at least you don't have to worry about that anymore."

 "Yeah, now I just have to worry about her fucking my best friend. Fuck, she just—" Mike growls in his throat, contemplates turning to go back to the gym because he needs to get this energy out somehow. "She drives me fucking crazy."

 "Yeah, I know, man. I just didn't want you to be surprised at the party when you see 'em all buddy-buddy."

 "I'm gonna punch him," Mike states. "Just lay him out in front of everyone."

 "Please don't," Nile sounds genuinely worried. "Maybe use the party as a way to, I don't know, talk to your girl? Like an adult?" 

 "Obviously not my girl, and I've been screwing around with Rhi anyway. Maybe it's just time we went our separate ways or whatever." 

 It physically hurts to even suggest, but he's trying to put on a brave face for his friend—act annoyed rather than fucking crushed, but god, he is aching. His stomach has opened up into nothing, his chest feels void of everything that was once inside, and he knows he's being dramatic, but fuck fuck fuck, first Zeke and now Erwin? What is it that Mike doesn't have? What can't he provide you with that they can? Just tell him, and he'll fucking fix it. 

 "Yeah, I think we both know that's not gonna happen. Plus, you do realize Rhi is probably just using you to make Zeke jealous."

 "I'm not fucking stupid, Nile, of course I know that." But, Mike is really tired of his love life revolving around that asshole, like he has to wait for Zeke to call all the shots. "I'm using her as much as she's using me, so—"

 "As a distraction?" 

 Mike lets his head loll to the side, peering down at Nile from the corner of his eyes. "What do you think?" 

 The other man gives him a light punch to the shoulder and once again suggests, "Talk things out. Just pull her aside at the party." 

 It's easier said than done. When Halloween rolls around, it's a little insane. It's too big and too loud with a flashing strobe that hurts Mike’s eyes. There are all sorts of costumes, making it hard to recognize anyone. The jungle juice is a mystery, one Mike doesn't plan on touching but that many people will. He has a feeling that more than a few party-goers are gonna end up sick, probably passing out in various locations of the house. 

 Mike has opted for an easy costume, the tacky tourist complete with his pink Hawaiian shirt, a straw hat, sunglasses, and a fanny pack. It's so awful, it actually made him laugh, but Rhi, clad in a spandex tiger suit, is not nearly as amused. She probably wanted him to go the sexy cop route or something equally as cringey, but Mike just doesn't have it in him tonight. 

 Nile is a shirtless cowboy, Hitch is a Catholic schoolgirl, Gelgar is Freddy Krueger with a pompadour, Reiner is a werewolf, the list goes on and on. Sexy, bloody nurses, superheroes, Harry Potter, and so on. 

 When his eyes land on you for the first time that night, Mike comes close to drooling his drink. Lola Bunny in her skimpy basketball uniform and a rabbit ear headband. Your face is painted, and you're carrying around one of those foam balls kids use to dunk into Fisher Price hoops, and he has no doubt the prop will be lost by the end of the party. 

 Mike thinks back to Spring Break, to you wincing at his movie choice then trying to sleep through it. You had woken up to him flipping through the photo album, then chose to finally open up to him. 

 So, why this costume? Why "torture" yourself like this? 

 And, speaking of torture, you're sticking to Erwin just like Nile said you would. The blond is in a tailored suit, his face painted like a skull. It's both classy and creepy, and Mike hates him for it. In fact, it calls for another drink. 

 Rhi finds him in the kitchen after making her rounds, taking up her former place on Mike's arm as he uses the counter to pop the lid off a fresh bottle. They watch the game of beer pong playing out in front of them, but Rhi doesn't seem content to just sit. 

 She has to stand on her tip-toes and shout into his ear, "Wanna walk around some?" 

 No. He really doesn't, but he can placate her, especially if it means getting laid later tonight. 

 They trek back to the main room, observing the debauchery taking place. People are grinding and stripping to Monster Mash. Several couples are spread out in the chairs or up against the wall getting pretty close to full on exhibitionism. 

 They stop to talk to "Officer" Marie for a while then move on to Nile and Hitch to whom Rhi spills everything she just heard from the busty redhead. They joke with Gelgar and his catch of the day, some of the pledges—Jean, Reiner, and Eren—who are just trying to survive, and then at last… you and Erwin. 

 Mike sees the way your chest rises with a deep breath, how your fingers tighten around the little basketball. Your eyes flit from Rhi to Mike, flashing when Rhi greets you. 

 Oh, you don't like her. 

 "Love the costume," she tells you. "Who are you supposed to be again?" 

 Mike chokes on his drink, and you suck your teeth before replying, "Lola Bunny. The Loony Toon."

 "Oh, is that, like, Bugs Bunny's girlfriend?"

 "Kind of?" You try. 

 Rhi looks to Erwin who visibly cringes when she asks, "Why aren't you dressed as Bugs then?" 

 Mike wants to turn around, to put as much distance between all of you as possible. 

 Erwin clears his throat. "Because that would be a couple's costume, and we're not…"

 Mike knows his expression is skeptical, cold even, and when he settles it on you, you give him a little shake of your head that he doesn't really believe. 

 "Oh, alright," Rhi concedes only to chime, "'Cause I heard—"

 "Wrong," Erwin cuts her off. "You heard wrong, Rhi." A hard, blue stare lands on Mike, unforgiving when he tells him, "I think it's time you two talked."

 "I don't think that's really—"

 "Oh, fuck," your swear gets everyone's attention, and Mike takes in the shock written all over your face then follows your line of sight to the entry way where Zeke god damn Jaeger is making his way through the crowd. 

 "What the hell is he doing here?" Erwin spits. 

 "You and Nile decided this should be an open party, dumbass," Mike reminds him with a roll of his eyes. 

 "Oh, so we're name-calling now? Jesus Mike, grow up. You're just assuming shit!" As he rants, Erwin takes hold of one of your arms and pulls you behind him, snatching the furry headband from you so the ears don't stick out. 

 For a split second, Mike thinks he's trying to protect you from him, but then he nods to bring Mike's attention to the approaching figure behind him, and Mike understands. 

 He turns his body to face Zeke who's walking over, fragmented by the strobe, his icy eyes piercing straight through his glasses. Mike, despite his anger toward you, feels the primal urge to protect you. 

 "The fuck do you want, Jaeger?" 

 "Woah, calm down, bud. Just looking for a brat—about yea high, spreads her legs for any athlete she comes in contact with. You guys seen her?" 

 Mike steps toward him, but he's stopped by a hand that fists in the back of his shirt. 

 "Ah, there she is," Zeke smirks, and Mike looks over his shoulder to see you now in front of Erwin with your fingers clutching the pink material across his back. 

 "He's not worth it, Mike."

 Mike thinks he is, though. He feels like he keeps getting whiplash, going back and forth between who he wants to hit at any given moment because it seems to change by the second.

 He's just been so incredibly frustrated for the past few months. Lacrosse doesn't help, and  the gym doesn't help, and fucking Rhi doesn't help. Mike has just been stewing, letting everything fester during the radio silence between the two of you. He's mad at so many people including himself, and all he wants to do is shove his way out of this stupid fucking party and take off his stupid fucking fanny pack and be alone in his apartment under his dumb fairy lights. 

 He shrugs out of your grip, figures the best thing he can do right now is get away from all of you. Zeke stumbles when Mike shoulders into him forcefully. He's not even a little surprised when Rhi doesn't follow him, choosing to vie for Zeke's attention instead. 

 It doesn't matter. All that matters is that Mike gets another drink in him. 

 He tries not to watch the way the heated conversation turns out, the way you bow up to Zeke and Erwin has to once again put himself in between you and the other blond. He tries not to smile at the fire in your eyes, that blaze he's seen so many times (usually when you're annoyed at him), and yes, there's that pain again, barely overshadowing Mike's anger. 

 You yell something at Zeke. He yells back. Erwin feels the need to add his own opinion, but the music is too loud for Mike to be able to make any of it out. Whatever is shouted makes Zeke huff and walk away. Rhi prances after him, and Mike resigns himself to the fact that he probably will not be fucking her after this shit show. He could always find someone else, but that takes effort (not much, but still), and then they usually get clingy afterward, and he just can't be bothered with all that right now. Mike can't be bothered with anything right now. 

 So he drinks. 

 He keeps an eye on Zeke who doesn't actually leave the party, and he drinks. He stares at you from across the room, bunny ears back in place, and he drinks. Somewhere between Boom and Beer Pong, he loses the fanny pack, looks down at some point and finds that it's just no longer there. All he had in there was a lighter and a couple condoms, so he isn't too broken up about it, but he does wonder—

 Mike isn't sure what makes him look over at the counter where all the different drinks are set out, but he does, and it's just in time to see Eren hunching over the bowl of jungle juice like some shady motherfucker, and when Mike makes his way over, world spinning just a little bit, he sees the younger Jaeger brother emptying a little plastic bag of green pills into the punch. 

 "What the fu—" Mike has him by the collar before he can even finish his own question, tosses the kid away from the counter so that he actually falls to the floor. It causes a few people to hop out of the way, their drinks sloshing and spilling on the tile. "What the fuck are you doing?" 

 Eren looks up at Mike with wide, panicked eyes, like he's scared and waiting for someone to save him. 

 "I—I don't know what you think you saw, man—"

 "I know exactly what I saw, you little creep!" 

 Everyone in the kitchen is looking at the two of them as more people trickle in. 

 "What even was that? You trying to roofie the whole fucking party or something?" 

 "No!" 

 "Just one person, then? That one special girl," Mike hisses.

 He walks back to the counter and grabs the large bowl of juice, carrying it over to Eren who's still on the ground. The kid covers his face just in time for Mike to empty the contents over his head, drenching him so that red drips from his hair and trickles down his arms. 

 "Drink up, bitch," Mike snarls before throwing the bowl so that it bounces off Eren's head. 

 Naturally, a bigger crowd has gathered, and Nile shoves his way through, shouting over the music, "What is happening?" 

 Mike leans over to yell in his ear, "Saw him pouring pills into the punch."

 "Are you serious?" 

 Mike nods but steps away when Eren pushes himself off the wet floor and nearly throws himself at Nile. 

 "I didn't do it! I don't know what the fuck he's talking about!" 

 Nile arm-bars Mike when he tries to move toward the little twerp, lips pulling back from his teeth because it has been a shitty night. A shitty week. Shitty month. And, now his fury has shifted yet again. 

 "Did anyone else see it, Mike?" Nile asks. 

 "Probably not since everyone is fucked up—"

 "Including you."

 Mike looks over at his friend in genuine surprise because it's starting to sound like Nile doesn't believe him. 

 "Why the fuck would I lie about something like this?" 

 "Maybe because he's Zeke's brother," Nile suggests. 

 Mike is heated. He can feel the blood underneath his skin cooking his god damn insides, frying his brain so that all he can think about is throwing a punch or two (or twenty). 

 Jaw sliding, Mike shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath to steady himself, to stop his hands from shaking as he tries to figure out when his friends started looking at him as some unhinged freak. 

 "What are you doing—the fu—dude, stop!"

 Opening his eyes again, Mike sees that Gelgar has inserted himself into the situation and has Eren pinned against the counter as he shoves his hands in every one of his pockets. He's growling something at the younger man, keeps shoving his face down against the linoleum any time Eren squirms, and after about a minute of people watching and gasping and making crude remarks about the position the two are in, Gelgar straightens up with a plastic bag identical to the one Mike saw Eren emptying into the jungle juice. 

 "It's just Adderall, I swear!"

 Gelgar scoffs. "This is definitely not Adderall. Believe me, I'd know." He tosses the pills to Nile who takes a long look at them before glaring at Eren. 

 "Get the fuck out before I call the cops."

 He should call them anyway, Mike thinks, but he understands Nile's hesitance. There's a lot going on at the party—underage drinking, party drugs in various rooms, etc. Eren wouldn't be the only one taken into custody if the police showed up. 

 Another voice rings out, asking the same question everyone else has, "What the hell is going on?" and Mike comes close to hurling the closest bottle at Zeke as he makes his way to his brother. "Why are you…" He gestures nebulously as his eyebrows pull together. Rhi is close behind him, and further still, you and Erwin are peeking into the kitchen. 

 "They think I drugged the jungle juice!" Eren looks at Zeke with puppy eyes that probably worked when he was a kid, might still work judging by the way the blond whirls around to face Mike and Nile. 

 "Have any proof, or are you just trying to—"

 "Pipe down, Jaeger," Nile cuts him off, holding up the bag and explaining, "Mike saw him dropping these in the punch."

 Zeke is silent for a few solid seconds before rounding on his brother again and grabbing him by the shirt right where Mike had previously held him, and everyone watches in rapt attention as he steers Eren through the crowd, shouting at him the entire time. 

 Having both of them leave is a relief, but Mike is a little disappointed that he didn't get to fight either of them. It would have been nice to feel a nose break under his fist, but he supposed it's better this way. 

 "Hey, thanks for catching that, dude," Nile says, slapping Mike's back. 

 It doesn't make him feel good. If anything, it pisses him off. Mike would understand if his friend had been skeptical of one of the pledges or second years making the accusation he had, but Nile is one of his best friends. They were inducted at the same time, were hazed side by side. Mike never would have thought Nile had such a low opinion of him, that he’d believe Mike’s little broken heart would cloud his judgement to the point of slandering someone without cause. 

 "Whatever," he shrugs before grabbing another drink. 

 He should just go back home. He isn't having a good time. He's angry at just about everyone he looks at. When Rhi decides he's worth her time again, Mike actually tells her to fuck off. He's lost the accessories to his costume, and he's about to lose his mind. 

 It's getting late. Mike isn't sure how late because as the night progresses, he gets steadily inebriated. He tries to avoid anyone and everyone in his fraternity, hanging out with people he knows from lacrosse or his classes instead. They play a few drinking games, take body shots off some sorority girls (or maybe it's the same one, he can't tell anymore). The music becomes bearable, and the strobe light stops hurting his head, and eventually, Mike just… forgets. 

 He forgets about Nile's lack of faith. He forgets about the fuckhead Jaeger brothers. He forgets about you and Erwin walking around and laughing together oh, ha ha we're so close now. He is finally spared from all of his negative thoughts. 

 Mostly because somewhere between shot number seven and beer number who knows what, Mike pukes into a plant (maybe?) and blacks out.

 *

 "God dammit. Erwin," you tug on his jacket sleeve and point to the corner that is home to a fake ficus that Mike is currently throwing up in. 

 Erwin groans, "Oh, Jesus Christ," and starts making his way over with you hot on his heels. 

 A few people are making faces as they glance at Mike, moving away as he coughs, straightens, then bends over again. 

 "Mike, come on, buddy," Erwin pats his back, waiting for Mike to pause in his retching so that he can duck under his arm and support him. "Gotta get you to a bathroom."

 "No bath," Mike snorts. "No green there, no…"

 You take a place on his other side, not that you can help much in getting him down the hall and in one of the downstairs restrooms, but you at least support his other arm and steer him in the right direction. 

 "Why is he talking about green?" Erwin grumbles as you both lower Mike to the tiled floor in front of the toilet where he promptly pukes again. 

 "The leaves maybe? I don't know, dude. Just…" You cringe as you notice the way Mike's shaggy hair hangs down into the toilet bowl, subject to all kinds of splash back. "Do you have a hair tie on you?" 

 "Literally why in the fuck would I have a hair tie on me?" Erwin asks incredulously, and you laugh because a couple weeks ago, he never would have used that word in this context since it's wrong, but the more you spend time with him, the more he picks up on your vernacular, and that really doesn't matter right now because—

 "Water," Mike croaks, voice echoing off the ceramic. 

 "I don't think you'll be able to drink any right this second, man," Erwin tells him, squatting beside him. 

 Mike shakes his head. "Wanna feel—feel water. Cold."

 "He sounds like a fucking caveman," you snicker. 

 You're really just trying to stay calm, masking the sick feeling in your stomach with amusement, but you've been watching Mike all night as he downed beer after beer, mixing various liquors as he took shots and licked salt off some chick's stomach. You figured he would get sick, but there wasn't really much you could do about it. He had made it pretty clear he isn’t interested in speaking to you. Still, you had purposely remained mostly sober just in case something like this happened (also because you make bad decisions when you get fucked up at frat parties).

 "Yeah, he definitely won't remember any of this."

 "Waterrr," Mike tries again, and you look at the way his arm is dangling over the side of the tub, the faucet on the opposite side, and glance at Erwin at a loss. 

 He shrugs, eyes darting around until he sees the plastic cup upside down on the shower rack. He grabs it, turns the water on and fills the cup, then dumps it over Mike's hand. 

 Mike groans, slowly wriggles his fingers under the stream, and drawls, "Thaaaank."

 You shake your head and motion for the cup, talk loud enough to be heard over the faucet, "I can handle this. You go back outside."

 "What? No."

 "There's no reason both of us have to be in here. He's just gonna puke his guts out for a few hours and then pass out." 

 Erwin doesn't seem sold on the idea. 

 "Come on. You've gotta go back. You're vice president or whatever."

 "So?" 

 "Erwin."

 He stares at you for a while then deflates. "Fine. Do you have your phone on you?" 

 "Always." You gesture to the elastic waistband of your shorts, phone pressed to your hip as it hangs on the inside of the material.

 "Text me if you need help, alright?" 

 "You got it, boss."

 He leaves just in time for Mike to violently retch into the toilet, one hand clutching the bowl as his spine curves. You fill the cup back up, pour it over his hand once again, and repeat the action over… and over… and over.

 His face and hair are gonna be a mess, probably his shirt too which is actually a blessing because you'll finally have a legitimate reason to burn it. Pepto Bismol pink and sketched palm trees stare at you as you sit on the edge of the tub, and all you can think of is the first time you saw Mike wearing the terrible shirt, how that had ended up, how you left with it the following morning. 

 How had the two of you gone from that to this? Sure, you weren't super fond of him at the beginning of it all, but he grew on you. A lot. He's your best fucking friend. Through the last couple months, through this weird fight you're having, he is your best friend. It's why you're here right now taking care of his drunk ass. 

 It'll pass. This phase will pass, and you'll make up, and you'll get your chance to be honest with him, to tell him how you feel about him. It may have taken you a little too long to arrive at your destination, so to speak, but better late than never. Soon, you'll both be able to look back on this and laugh. 

 People knock on the door here and there, and you scream at them to go away, eventually getting tired of it and just clicking the lock into place. 

 Any time you stop pouring water over his hand, Mike whines and attempts to say something, choppy words that don't make a ton of sense. You wonder if you need to call an ambulance, look for the signs of alcohol poisoning, but he doesn't feel cold, his breathing is even between bouts of vomiting, and his arms aren't curling in that tell-tale way. 

 More than likely, he just made himself sick. He knows better, too. He's been partying for a long enough time to be well aware of the mixing rules. Beer before liquor and all that shit. He may have just not cared tonight, though. From what Erwin has told you, Mike has just been in a generally bad mood for a while now (and Erwin has not tried to be subtle about why). He's barely around the Pike house anymore, he keeps getting called for personal fouls in lacrosse, and he's sleeping with Rhi which is nobody's business but is also strange considering her history—some kind of mutualistic symbiotic relationship that nobody is a real fan of. 

 Not my circus, not my monkeys, you think to yourself, emptying another cup from your place on the floor now. The ceramic was starting to hurt your ass, and you know your arm will probably be a little sore tomorrow, or later today since it's nearing three. 

 Fatigue is beginning to set in, and you know Mike is exhausted because he keeps dozing off on the toilet seat so that you have to nudge him back awake. Until he can speak in mostly coherent sentences, he's not allowed to sleep. 

 Sitting in the bathroom gives you ample amount of time to think. You go over some mental flashcards for a while, notes you took with the help of Mike's magic textbook. Then you think about going to your mom's for Thanksgiving and how much you aren't looking forward to it. Then you think about Zeke showing up only to have to escort his shady brother from the house. God, you had not been happy to see him. You'd been a little afraid, if you're being honest. 

 After figuring out that he had, in fact, blocked Mike's number on your phone, you had stomped into his apartment and initiated a screaming match. You got loud, he got louder, called you a stupid bitch and punched a hole in the drywall. You had decided that was a pretty good time to leave, both the apartment and the relationship. He's been lurking on campus around your most frequented spots—the science building, the library, but you've been doing a good job of camouflaging yourself in groups of other students. Even if he can see you, he can't do much about it. 

 You've thought about reporting him to campus police, but you know nothing will come of it. The golden boy can do no wrong. It's why you've been spending so much time at the PKA house again. You know most of them have your back, and you are absolutely not above asking any of them to walk somewhere with you to fend off your angry ex. 

 You can't wrap your head around what his fucking deal is. Surely he didn't treat Rhi like this after they split. There's no way she would still be so infatuated with him if he had. Is it just because you're the one who dumped him? He had to have seen it coming once you started putting the pieces together, the way he constantly tried to make you feel guilty, isolating you from your friends, invading the privacy of your phone to not only block Mike but also to turn your fucking location on so he could track you (you had found that out after that first trip back to the frat house to talk with Erwin. It had not been pretty).

 It's hard to believe you put up with it for as long as you did. It was only five months, but that's still five months too long. 

 Mike is quiet for several minutes, and you sigh when you see that his eyes are closed once again. He makes a noise of displeasure when you use your foot to gently shake him, grumbling, "Sto-o-op."

 "Nope. Gotta stay awake, Miche. Can't have you fallin' into a coma or something'."

 "Nooo. No Miche."

 "Yes, Miche," you laugh. 

 He scrunches his face up, shakes his head, but the motion seems to make him sick again. 

 When he finishes gagging into the toilet, he lets out a deep, "Gu-uuh," then sniffs. "No Miche. Jus' she—she—...Jus' her."

 You can figure out the rest, but you can't decide if you want to smile or cry. Only you can call him that. Well, you and his mom. You miss her. And his dad. And Scout. You hope to see them again. 

 "Okay. Just Mike then."

 He hums in confirmation then shakes his hand in the tub so that you'll douse it once again. 

 "You're a needy drunk, you know that?" 

 Mike doesn't respond to that, just takes a few deep breaths as his eyes close yet again. 

 "Sleep now," he mumbles. 

 "No, no sleep now."

 "Sleep now."

 "Oh my fucking god."

 His mouth drops open a little, and the first thing you think to do is splash him in the face with the cup of water. 

 He spits and splutters but doesn't shift much, still wrapped around the toilet. You try not to look inside when you stand and reach to flush what's already gathered, trying to shield some of Mike's face from any flying droplets. Then you wash your hands and sit back down. You figure you'll be here for at least another couple of hours. The sun will be coming up soon. Thank god it's a Saturday. 

 Both Erwin and Nile knock on the door for an update, and you yell that you're okay. Mike isn't throwing up as often, and when he does, nothing is coming up anymore. He's gonna be in a world of pain when he returns to his normal self. 

 So fucking stupid. He's so fucking stupid. 

 He mutters nonsense on and off. Sometimes you can translate what he's trying to say, but other times not so much. 

 "President… dumb boyyy."

 "Hy-poc-risy an' jealous… Hypocrite… I…"

 "Hand… wanna hold…" but when you grab it, he just gurgles, "Waterrr." 

 There's really no pleasing him. 

 "Why-y-y… dick… Erwin."

 "Volcano books… n' space jam… come an' sam… an'... to the jam."

 You laugh too loudly, and Mike cringes at the noise, but the corner of his mouth still lifts. You don't think he knows what he's doing or saying yet—isn't downloading any new memories—it doesn't matter because you will remember this for the both of you. 

 "You're fucking ridiculous."

 Mike pushes himself back from the toilet to sit against the wall, hissing and clumsily rubbing his chest. His shirt is wet and disgusting, and he must know on some level because he says, "Shower," and starts pulling himself over the tub. 

 "Jesus Christ, Mike."

 He's too tall, dangling an arm and a leg over the side and sinking lower. 

 "Water, pleeeease."

 He apparently isn't aware of the faucet that is still on. Whoever has to pay these bills… You feel sorry for them. 

 "No, dude. I am not letting you drown."

 Mike fucking giggles, "Lifeguard," then tries to take his shirt off. He doesn't have the motor skills to handle buttons and looks to be confused by them anyway, so his next solution is to just rip the material down the middle. 

 "Yeah, okay, I guess that works."

 The showerhead is turned on, and you sit on the edge of the tub again, shivering when the cool spray blows toward you while keeping an eye on Mike. Reaching over, you turn the temperature up a little, knowing that the alcohol has dropped his body temperature some. You're almost tempted to slide under the water with him, but there's no room, and you're not about to just make yourself comfortable on top of him.

 So, you just sit and stare and think about how tired you are. Physically and mentally and spiritually tired. You just need some time to not exist—just a few days. It feels like this semester has been nothing but drama so far, and it is exhausting. Maybe that's why Mike did this to himself. Maybe he just needed to not exist. 

 He starts to sit up a little in the tub, but his hand falters and sends him sliding back down. "Fuck."

 Not caring about getting wet at this point, you simply stand up between his spread legs, the shower drenching you immediately, and grab his hands to tug him upright. 

 "ευχαριστώ."

 "Come again?"

 "Means thanks," he mumbles, slumping forward. 

 You think of his family again, how he and his mother had just fallen into Greek as soon as you'd stepped into the house, leaving you surprised and impressed and warm in several different ways. 

 Squatting, you tilt your head to catch his half-lidded gaze. 

 "You back with me yet?" It's been nearly four hours—Fuck, why is there music playing still—but he might need more time. 

 "Dunno."

 "Can you tell who I am?" 

 Mike does his best to roll his eyes. "'m drunk, not a amnes—amnesic—"

 "Amnesiac," you supply with a smirk. Smartass.

 "That," he nods, pointing at you with a finger gun. 

 He can actually understand you now, so that's good, don't have to worry about him dying anymore since he's making progress. 

 Opening his mouth, Mike catches some water in it, swishes and spits. You expect him to tell you that you can leave. He can take care of himself, doesn't want to see you, all manner of hurtful things he has every reason to feel. 

 Instead, he blinks at you, extends his arms, and makes grabby hands. 

 "Can I help you?" 

 He doesn't say anything, just keeps reaching for you. He could grab you without issue. His fingers are already brushing your knees, but he either doesn't notice or wants to wait for you. 

 "Mike, I can't get any closer," you laugh. 

 Switching tactics, he pats his chest. 

 "Oh, no. I am but about to put myself in the line of vom just 'cause you wanna cuddle or some shit."

 Truthfully, you would also like to cuddle, to feel Mike's body against yours again, trace your fingers over his skin and listen to his heartbeat, but…

 Not like this. 

 "Please. No more vom. Promise."

 "I don't think you're in a state to make promises like that."

 He says your name followed by one more, "Please," and you give in, letting out a long breath and grunting as you find a way to lay between his legs with your head on the lower part of his sternum. You're curled a little awkwardly, one foot up against the ceramic while the other is curled beneath you. It is not by any means a comfortable position, but it's what Mike wants. 

 A few months ago, laying like this would inevitably lead to other things. Talking and joking would lead to giggling, maybe some well aimed prods to your ribs. You would bite in retaliation, his shoulder or, if the angle was right, his nipple, until he pulled you up further to sit in his lap, hot mouth finding yours, and so on and so forth. 

 This is different on every possible level. Neither of you are speaking. Your hands are unmoving on each other's bodies. There's no heat save for the water that's pouring down on both of you, plastering your silky costume to your skin. 

 Still, it's enough to lull you into a drowsy state, the ache in your eyes urging you to close them, but as soon as you do, Mike speaks. 

 "'m mad at you."

 Your stomach drops. His words don't come as a surprise, but they still sting. 

 "I know," you sigh. "I'm mad at me too."

 Your head moves with his chest, a gentle up and down that could—and has—put you to sleep. 

 "Still love you."

 You bite your lip, fingers lightly digging into Mike's warm skin as you remind yourself that he's drunk, and he hates you, and he probably won't remember any of this when he wakes up anyway. There's no reason to get emotional over it. No reason. 

 "I love you too, Miche."

 Silence closes in around you once more. You drift in and out for about half an hour until a loud knock jolts you awake. 

 You scramble off of Mike and hop to the door, leaving puddles and drops behind you. Both Nile and Erwin look panicked in the hallway, the shorter man nearly shouting, "Is he fucking dead in there?" 

 "Not deeeead," Mike calls from the tub. 

 Erwin peers over your shoulder at him, then at you, then takes on a disappointed expression. "You didn't. Come on, he's so drunk."

 "What do you—" You frown as you piece together his implication, then squawk and shove Erwin with two wet hands. "I didn't fuck him, you perv! What is wrong with you?" 

 He chuckles and bats away your hands. "I never know with you two! You can't blame me!" 

 "You're disgusting."

 "Look who's talking. Have you seen yourself in the mirror?" Erwin raises his eyebrows. "Less bunny and more… I don't know, ghoul?"

 God, you had completely forgotten about the face paint. 

 "Shut up, yours isn't much better." His black and white paint is smeared in several places like someone ran their fingers through it. The collar of his shirt is stained, and his hair is tousled. You can't tell if it's the result of getting frisky or falling asleep. 

 "Stop flirting in front of meeee," Mike whines loudly, sitting up and pushing the shower knob a little too hard to shut the water off. 

 "We're not—" You and Erwin start at the same time.

 Nile interrupts with a drawn out, unconvinced little note and informs both of you, "You guys get a little flirty sometimes. Sorry to break it to you."

 You frown at the blond and he frowns back, then you both frown at Nile who shrugs. "I'm just saying. There's a reason people are thinking things."

 It's not important, and you'd rather not dwell on it because you know the truth, and Erwin knows the truth, and Mike will if he'll just fucking listen, but he's fucked up right now, so that's a problem for another day. 

 "Whatever, we'll work on it, but for now…" You watch as Mike tries and fails to pull himself out of the tub. 

 "He looks like the girl from The Ring," Erwin snorts. 

 "Yeah, if she was giant. And, a guy," you add. 

 Wet hair is hanging over Mike's eyes, still sopping wet and dripping. He's all awkward angles as he hoists himself up, kicking a leg over and swearing. 

 "We should probably help him," Nile says, fighting his own smile. 

 "Probably."

 Between the three of you, you manage to transport Mike from the bathroom to Erwin's room on the third fucking floor which is no easy feat. Nile waits for his friend to be dumped onto the mattress, then announces that Hitch is waiting for him to come back to bed. You don't know how long that will last, but your friend falling into the same frat boy trap you did is mildly hilarious. 

 It leaves you and Erwin to make Mike comfortable. You wrap his head in a towel you found poking out of the hamper, murmur, "Hope this doesn't have anything gross on it," to which Erwin responds with an unamused look. 

 You peel the ruined, tacky shirt from Mike’s shoulders and toss it into a corner but you let Erwin take care of the rest. You've seen everything Mike has to offer, but that doesn't stop you from feeling weird about seeing his dick when he can't really stop you. So, like Mike did last year when he spilled water on your shirt, you turn your back to allow him some privacy. 

 There's some rustling and grunting, but when Erwin tells you it's safe, you look to find Mike in a pair of gym shorts, hair still wrapped, looking more disgruntled than you've ever seen him. 

 "'m still wet."

 "You sure are, big guy," Erwin agrees, slowly guiding him to lay down on his side and explaining, "You need to sleep like this, alright? Otherwise you might choke and die."

 "Erwin!" You throw your hands up in the air. "Why would you even—?"

 "Know how it works, dumb… butt."

 "Oh, dumb butt. That's a good one," Erwin grins. "Very creative."

 "Don't panotrize me!" 

 You have to cover your mouth to keep from cackling, and Erwin shakes his head, corrects, "Patronize, Mike. Patronize."

 "That's what I said!" 

 It takes a while to get him relaxed again. Apparently, Mike's favorite thing to do while drunk is run his mouth to Erwin, so while he's busy dealing with that, you raid Erwin's closet for a shirt and then his dresser for boxers. Once you are mostly dry, you snatch the towel from Mike's hair to wipe your face and toss it away, then step up onto the bed near the pillows, urging Mike to shift so that you can sit against the headboard. 

 He immediately rests his stubbled cheek on one of your thighs, then wraps both arms around the other, his fingers melting into the fat just below your ass as he grunts, "Mine."

 "All yours, buddy," Erwin assures with a grin before glancing at you. "I'm gonna pass out in the chair—" he gestures to the one in the corner of the room, "—if you need me for anything, just wake me up, okay?" 

 "Yeah, thanks." Then, "Hey, Erwin?" He hums in response. "Don't tell him about tonight, like, me staying with him."

 "Why?" 

 "I don't want him to stress out about what he may have said or done. 'Cause I know he will."

 "Whatever you say," Erwin shrugs, collapsing in the chair without even changing or washing his face. All three of you are gonna look like characters from a horror movie whenever you wake up, and the thought makes you smirk as you card your fingers through Mike's damp hair. 

 It's getting longer. He could probably put it up if he wanted to. He's been letting his beard grow a little too. You aren't sure if it's laziness or just trying a slightly different look, but whatever the case, it's hot. 

 He keeps your leg clutched tightly to him like some kind of stuffed animal until he drifts off to sleep. It's nearing five, and you know you probably won't get any quality rest while you're here, so you figure you'll just doze for a while until you can safely extract yourself from Mike's grip. He probably won't appreciate waking up like this anyway. No matter what he's said to you and Erwin—declarations and staked claims—it'll all be worthless in just a few hours. 

 A symphony of snores plays through the room, Erwin splayed out in his chair like he's passed out in a cheap Vegas hotel while Mike drools on your thigh, and if it was anyone else, you'd be disgusted and shove him away, but since it’s Mike, it’s weirdly endearing. He can slobber on you all he wants, it won’t bother you in the slightest. 

 Eventually, the sun shining through the window becomes too bright for you to even fall into a light sleep, so just as you planned, you gently untangle yourself from Mike, pausing when he grunts and frowns, but when he doesn’t stir any more than that, you manage to slip out of the bed. 

 Grabbing your phone and costume, still a little wet and cold because of it, you leave as quietly as you can. Your shoes are still in the downstairs bathroom along with Mike’s shirt, and you have a legitimate mental debate over whether you really should just toss it, but as much as you hate it, you decide against it. 

 You have to step over several bodies to get to the front door, more than usual which is concerning since the punch Eren spiked was thrown out (or really, thrown all over him), but you’re able to make it out without tripping.

 The drive to your dorm feels too long, sun beaming right into your itchy eyes the entire way. You nearly cry in relief when you finally fall onto your mattress, already well aware that most, if not all, of your day will be spent under the covers. You’re more than fine with it, allowing yourself to just not exist for several hours exactly how you wanted to.

[kimnjss]

more than ready | myg

⤑ series: be my baby

⤑ pairing: rapper!yoongi x mom!reader

⤑ genre: smut!! nd fluff.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 5.6K

⤑ warnings: here we goo... cursing, dirty talk, neck kissing, hickeys, slight biting, oral sex (f. receiving), oh my god spitting, squirting, yoongi has an impreg kink, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cum inside, unintentional cock warming (he’s gotta get it in there), multiple orgasms.

⤑ A/N: so hi! this was only supposed to be just that first scene... but then i got sad that it was ending so i added more :( - so yeah ,. it took longer than i expected .  but i hope you guys really like this!! i can’t believe it’s over omg :( i’m gonna miss them sm .

⤑ impreg dialogue credit goes to @taetaewonderland​​, go check out her work, she’s soo talented!

JUNE 5TH, 2020 | 16:09 – TWO WEEKS LATER.

It had been a long day, spent lifting boxes and reorganizing your things into Yoongi's house. Not sure who was more excited about the move, Hyunki or Yoongi but both of them couldn't stop going on about how much fun they'll have now that they'd be together all the time. You were happy too, of course, felt right to be redecorating the room that you'd now be sharing with Yoongi.

Yoongi. Your man, your boyfriend. Yours. It only made sense that way. Being with him, happy with him. The two of you were made for each other and now you could finally be together. As a family.

And you didn't want it any other way.

He's laid sprawled out on his bed, watching with hooded eyes and a large smile as you arrange your clothes in his closet. All while organizing the messy clutter that came with the way he tended to carelessly toss his clothes in once they were washed. Happiness settling in his chest, paired with the domestic feeling from watching you.

Not done up like how you usually liked to walk around. Fitting sweats hanging off your round hips, one of his plain shirts swallowing your figure. Hair effortlessly framing your bare face. He felt almost privileged to get to see you like this, knowing that not many people have.

“How many of these shirts do you need?” You're asking with a slight laugh, lifting the plain white FG shirt for him to see. The shirt identical to the one that you're wearing now and the other four you had just put away.

Yoongi only shrugs, lips twitching into a smile. “They're comfortable,”

A simple roll of your eyes is your answer, folding the garment before reaching for the black one. Tiny feet pad into the room, Hyunki silently climbing onto the bed with a pout on his face. Sitting up slightly, Yoongi prepares to ask what's the matter – but Hyunki is beating him to it.

“Daddy! The batteries keep falling out.” 

Even if you hadn't been watching them, you could perfectly picture the large smile that took over Yoongi's features at hearing his son call out to him. The same smile that broke onto his face each time Hyunki was referring to him as 'Daddy' as if he was hearing it for the first time each time.

“Here, let Daddy take a look.” He speaks softly, pulling the toy from his son's hands. It's an easy fix, the back of the toy needing to be tightly secured. But Hyunki is looking at him as if he had just figured out world peace. Thanking him loudly before taking his toy back into his room.

The triumphant grin doesn't leave his lips, the entire time he's watching you walk around the room. “Did you see that?” He's asking you and you're only now realizing that he had been waiting for you to comment. 

“See what?” Playing dumb while leaned over his body on the bed, attempting to fill the bedside table with your undergarments. 

An arm swiftly wraps around your waist, tugging you down a bit so you're directly over him. “'Daddy, the batteries keep falling out',” He mimics his son's voice, smile shifting into a large one that shows off his gums. “I think I'm his hero,” He's concluding and you can't help the laugh that slips past your lips.

“You might be,”

His eyes shine at your agreement, head tilting to crash his lips onto yours. The kiss sweet, slow, all of his love and adoration being poured into every movement of his lips. He's holding you close, hands resting lightly on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin.

It's not until his lips are slipping from yours, finding your neck does the mood shift. Teeth and tongue marking up your skin, soft giggles falling from your lips, and filling your bedroom. He's pulling away only to tug down the collar of your shirt, revealing more of your neck to his greedy lips.

Fingers knitted in his hair, you're tugging at the strands slightly – eyes rolling at the soft scrape of teeth against your skin. His fingers have crept underneath the fabric of your shirt, sneaking their up toward the wire of your bra.

“Daddy! It happened again,” The screech breaks through the haze of desire that started to fog up the room. Yoongi's mouth pulling from your neck with a pop. Hyunki's call ringing from his room. “Daddy, come look!” 

There's not even a moment of hesitance before Yoongi is pressing his lips to yours quickly before lifting his body and exiting the room. A huffed, “Daddy's coming, buddy.” Falling from his lips as he exits. 

Had wanted to stay in there with you, continue to the obvious place his wandering kisses were going – but duty as a father calls. And he was more than ready to answer the call. The sound of them playing together fills your ears, a wide smile spreading across your lips as you stand from the bed.

Going back, you listen to them together – happiness filling your heart from the sound of their laughter. And you're sure nothing would ever sound as good as them.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi's voice rings from behind you. Stood in the kitchen, after putting away your clothes in his room. His arms snake around your waist, head finding your shoulder, watching as you slice out bite-size pieces.

His lips have started to suck soft kisses into the back of your neck, fingers toying with the band of your leggings. “Making a snack,” You answer, nonchalant. Trying to act like his simple touches weren't driving you insane.

“You're a snack,” He replies lamely, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. And you're convinced you're in love with this man because there's no other explanation for how a phrase like that could turn you on that much.

But of course, his ego didn't need to know that. “Aren't you supposed to be entertaining your son,” It's hard to mask the breathy tone of your voice, body reacting to the feeling of his lips on your skin, his hips pressed into the curve of your ass.

“Animal Planet came on. And after the third time he shushed me, he told me to come see what you were doing,” The snort of laughter that comes from your nose is automatic, amazed how alike the two of them were. Couldn't help but wonder if he noticed it too.

Although, his mind is somewhere else. Tongue now rolling hotly against the shell of your ear, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth while his fingers tease their way down past the elastic band. “Think I can eat my snack in the room?” Words murmured into your ear, sending a pang of arousal throughout our veins.

Your giggle is obnoxious, but you can't help it with how giddy this man makes you feel. Head tilting slightly so you could see him, catch glimpse of those lust-filled eyes. Not a lot of time granted to admire them before he's covering your lips with his in a hungry kiss. Twisting your body easily, so your back is now pressed against the counter.

“Yoongi,” He's meeting your panted moan with a grunted curse of his own. Cock stiffening in his pants just from the sound of you saying his name. He loved to hear you say his name.

There's no need for you to say much else, his hands grasped around your thighs to easily lift your body onto his. If this had been four years ago, he'd be fucking you on the counter without an ounce of hesitation. But he takes the moment to walk you toward your room, lips never detaching from your neck.

Hard cock grazing over your crotch with each step. Lowering both of your bodies onto the soft mattress, after gently kicking the door closed. With your legs wrapped around his waist, you can feel every ridge and curve of his dick through the thin fabric.

“Take those off,” He pants, leaning back just enough where he's able to remove his shirt from his torso.

Only allowed to a moment to admire the dips of his collarbones, the browned pink of his nipples, each indent that nicely outlined his abs, a trail of hair traveling from below his belly button and disappearing underneath the waistband of his boxers.

He's stealing the image from you, ducking down to tug at your joggers. Hastily, he's pulling them down your legs, cutely grumbling to himself about your endless staring. But, could he blame you? When he looked that good over you like that?

Hooded eyes follow his hands, grin growing as more and more of your smooth skin is revealed to him. You're sighing at the delicate way he lifts your foot, tugging the fabric from around your ankle, before placing a soft kiss to the bone. Tongue just barely grazing over your flesh, painting blotches of saliva all the way to your knee.

Squirming underneath him, needy to feel him where you wanted him most. Each swipe of his lips has a fresh gush of arousal heating up your core and he was ignoring the way your sweet scent tickled his nose.

Breathing picks up at the feeling of his mouth marking up your inner thigh, teeth determined to create a bruise and you're so concentrated on the movement of lips that you don't notice the hand that has crept its way between your legs. Not until the tips of his fingers are brushing against your covered clit and your body is jolting.

“So sensitive,” He murmurs and you can feel the stretch of his grin against your skin. Head lifting to watch your fingers move between your legs, loving the sound of the soft moans he's able to pull soft whimpers from the back of your throat. “So wet too, baby. Bet you taste so sweet.”

Even through your panties, a clear string of slick connects his fingers to your mound as he pulls his arm back. He watches with fascination, taking his time to break the connection before he's pushing his those same fingers into his mouth, wantonly sucking your juices from his fingers.

You'd guess he was just putting on a show for you, wanting to make you as delirious as possible while watching the way his tongue caresses his fingers. But you'd be wrong, especially with the way his cock twitches underneath his shorts. He was enjoying this just as much as you.

“I want to feel your tongue, Yoongi.” Knowing him well enough to know that he wasn't going to give in until you were asking for it, sometimes holding out until you were full-on begging for a bit of relief.

It's like a switch was flicked inside of him, the smirk that takes over his features as his hand drops. Wet fingers latch onto the thin string of your thong, pulling it down until he's able to discard the wet bundle elsewhere. He doesn't waste a moment with diving in.

The first initial swipe of his tongue has your hips lifting, a hummed moan leaving your lips, your fingers tangle into the roots of his hair. So long since you've felt his mouth on you, you're way more sensitive than usual. Yoongi isn't complaining about that in the slightest bit.

His tongue parts your folds, the sweet drops of your arousal quickly coating his tastebuds. Lips quickly wrapping around your clit as a moan slips past his lips from the taste of you, the sound sending a vibration throughout your core. “Shit, Yoongi.” Voice hushed, vaguely remembering to keep quiet.

Yoongi's eyes are darting up to catch the expression on your features, how fucked out you look already and he's just getting started. Just barely, you feel the curve of his smirk against you, the suction behind his lips getting harder. Hips push down against his mouth, offering more of your dripping cunt to his tongue.

“Fuck, I don't remember you being this sweet.” He groans into your heat, tongue traveling down to lick into your entrance. A large hand lifted to set on your mound, thumb finding your clit. “I love this pussy,”

Whether it's the desire that coats his voice or the words he's saying to you, your walls are clenching around nothing. Throbbing for release already, a drawn-out moan falling from your lips as his mouth latches back onto you. His tongue moves much quicker into you, breath trapped in your throat while your fingers tighten in his hair – keeping his face pinned between your legs.

He can't take his eyes off you. Your head lulled back, your hips desperately grind against his face. Chasing the orgasm that you know is close, speeding to the end that he's more than ready to bring you to. “I-it... feels so good,” 

Yoongi's humming into you, arms looping underneath your thighs to pull your body closer to his face. Stilling them in their frantic rolls, he shifts into pressing wet kisses onto your clit. “You like that, baby?” Tongue flicking against your sensitive nub quickly. “Want me to make you cum?”

“Please, please! I need-” He's cutting your begging short, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking down harshly. With little to no warning, his fingers are slipping past your folds, curved so he's instantly meeting that rough patch of skin buried inside of you. Walls clench in response around his fingers, protesting as he draws his fingers back.

A gasped moan breaks through your lips as he's pushing back in, pressing deep inside of you before pulling back again. He's fingers are quickly falling into a steady pace, head lifting and his eyes lock with yours. “You gonna cum?” He only holds your gaze only for a moment before his attention is flickering back between your legs.

Watching in fascination as his fingers disappear inside of you. He's still waiting for your answer, eyebrow raising when it doesn't come. Breathless moans the only thing that falls from your lips. “Hm?” He prompts.

Pink tongue pokes out between his lips, coated with his spit. You watch as he lets it roll off the tip, landing directly on your clit and he's lifting his thumb to rub it in. “You close, baby?” A strangled cry emits from the back of your throat, nodding frantically as you begin to shake underneath him.

“Yes, yes! P-please make me cum,” Words fighting their way out of your mouth when you feel his fingers start to slow. He's grinning at the sound of you begging for him, lowering his body back between your legs. Fingers slowly sliding out of you to be replaced with his open mouth, wet digits easily finding your clit. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me,”

It's as if your body was waiting for his command, pulsating, and arching in pleasure. Hips pinned to the bed and you have to muffle your scream as your orgasm leaves your body in waves. Splashing his lips and your thighs, soaking the sheets underneath you. Your eyes squeezed shut, the wetness clumping your lashes. 

Yoongi's groans are muffled by your pussy, lapping up your juices like a man starved. His eyes are on you the entire time, watching as you ride out your high until your body is falling limp on the mattress heavy breaths lifting your chest.

All at once, he's lifting his body to hover over you, nose nudging against yours slightly and on instinct, your mouth is falling open. There's a hint of a smirk on his lips before he's opening up his mouth, a mixture of his spit and your cum trickling down his wet muscle and landing onto yours.

You're swallowing it down with no hesitance, dark eyes never leaving you, and only growing darker when you're parting your lips to show him your empty mouth. His lips are attached to yours in an instant and you're welcoming his tongue and the warm wetness that comes with it. Swallowing that too.

“You're so fucking perfect,” He groans, fingers tracing over the softness of your stomach. “Take everything I give to you,” His eyes flicker down to watch the movement of his fingers and you follow his gaze. Not missing the painful-looking strain at the front of his shorts, one odd move and he'd be bursting through the fabric.

He's reaching lower, spreading your legs apart so he's able to fit his body in between them. Groaning at the unintentional friction over his cock. Slowly, his fingers walk their way back to your stomach, brushing over your skin delicately. “Should I put another baby in you?” His cock twitches against you at the mere mention of it, but he pays it no mind – keeping his glued to yours.

“Please,” Something changes in his eyes with your agreement, turning dark as your legs lift. Toes hooking into the waistband of his shorts, pushing them the best you can with your angle. “Want you to fill me up,” You whine and the growl that leaves his throat can only be described as primal.

His hands are quickly wrapping around your ankles, tugging your body into his before pushing his shorts down the rest of the way. Cock bouncing against your folds the moment his clothes are out of the way. “You want me to?” Lowering himself onto you again, his hips roll; coating his shaft with your arousal.

“Give you a little girl this time?” He's more turned on then you've ever seen him. And it only deepens as he continues speaking. Egging himself on. “Can't wait 'til you're all big and swollen with my baby. Want that?”

Head bobbing in a nod, a breathy 'yes' leaving your lips followed by a string of like sounding ones. A single hand wraps around his shaft, squeezing out a dribble of precum before he's lining himself up with your entrance. Teeth cutting into his lower lip, eyes fluttering as he slides into you inch by inch.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He huffs once he's bottomed out, your walls clenched tight around him. “Always so fucking tight,” Yoongi whimpers, like actually whines as he pulls his hips back. In one swift movement, he's pushing forward, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

Head bowed, he watches his cock drag in and out of you. Your moans filling the room as the strength of his thrusts grow. His hands set on your hips, fingers bruising into your skin as he fucks you into the mattress. He's groaning out your name, lips close to your ear, and you whimper when he's catching it between his teeth.

“Gonna get you nice and pregnant. Fuck my baby deep inside you,” Yoongi's gasping out against your skin as you clench around him. Cock twitching against your walls. He's close, already. And you have a feeling it has everything to do with the thought of filling you up.

His hand fingers are quick to find you clit, rubbing frantic circles against it as his grip tightens around your waist. “God, I can feel you trying to milk me... you gonna cum again?” Nodding, breathless moans fall from your lips. Hips lifting to meet each one of is powerful thrusts.

“Yoongi, fuck-” Words breaking on a sob, clit being pinched between his knuckles. Your lashes flutter, hips lifting off the mattress as your walls squeeze tight around him. He's urging you on, mumbling dirty things into your ear that only prolongs your orgasm.

And the moment your body stops shaking, Yoongi is fucking into you with a newfound strength. Face buried in the crook of your neck. The power of his thrusts makes your tits bounce, pebbled nipples brushing against the fabric of your t-shirt. 

He's delirious, it seems. Incoherent mumbles about how pretty you'll look with his baby. How he's ready to fuck you over and over again until you're full of him. And you moan in response, wanting everything he's offering. Yoongi's teeth sink into the curve of your shoulder, hips stiffening before he's spilling his speed into your womb. Strong hands keeping your body in place and whines fall from your lips at the feeling of his warmth coating your walls.

The tiniest of orgasms wash through your body, walls clenching around him, attempting to milk him of every last drop. And he doesn't move until he's empty, pulling out slowly despite the protest your pussy puts up. His cum dribbles out of you, toes curling at the familiar feeling.

Yoongi's quick to push it back in, using the tip of his cock as a shovel. Dazed eyes glued to your core and you're sure he's barely thinking when he's sliding back inside of you. Arms wrapped around your shoulder as his face nuzzles the crook of your neck. “Gotta get you nice and pregnant,” He's mumbling before his body falls slack.

It doesn't take you long to realize that he's fallen asleep, the intensity of his orgasm getting to him. A giggle falling from your lips, fingers running through his slightly sweaty hair. “Really hope you do,” Voice barely above a whisper, you press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Holding him as he falls deeper into dreamland, his soft breath tickling the side of your neck. And you let your mind wander, thinking about how different things are now... how they're the same. How they'll change three years from now. 

More than ready to grow your family with him.

JUNE 8TH, 2020 | 11:27

“I just can't have anyone working for me that my girl doesn't trust. That I don't trust.” Yoongi sits at his studio desk, a nervous looking Jiso stood in front of him. Sort of knew what the ordeal was when he was calling her into his studio in the serious tone he almost never uses.

Of course, you weren't keeping it to yourself just how you were finding out about Yoongi's addiction. And while it worked out in the end, having someone who was so willing to share his business on his team... just couldn't happen.

Despite the apologies, her promises to never do something like that again – he couldn't budge. Not someone that could be trusted, not to mention the sly attitude she had toward you. No way would he keep someone like that around, working so close underneath him.

“Mr. Agust, it was just a mistake. Do you really think I'd intentionally wrong you?” Long eyelashes batted at him, pouted lips pouted in his direction. He uses to consider her pout cute, especially when she first started out and was constantly making tiny mistakes.

Never something he acted on. Jiso was his assistant and that was it. But the guy wasn't blind. A good looking girl and that had a lot to do with why he kept her around, ignoring his bosses when they told him to hire someone better. All she did was make mistakes.

“I know you weren't trying to hurt me. You were trying to hurt my girl and that doesn't sit well with me.” It's automatic, how her eyes roll at the mention of you. A soft scoff falling from her lips.

But the hard stare that Yoongi gives her, daring her to say one thing wrong about you keeps her mouth shut. Realizing that her cute pout won't get her anywhere in this situation, Jiso allows her shoulders to slump. “Okay,” She sighs, “Thank you for the opportunity.” He almost feels bad for the girl, because it's his fault.

Entertained her crush for a bit too long. Never made advances, but he never corrected her flirting. Acted as if it was okay, never set her straight. And now here they were. Jiso turns with a sigh, heavy steps taken out of the studio and into the hallway.

Not paying attention she almost tumbles over Hyunki, who's running full speed down the hall. You're a few steps behind him. He stops short before his face is smacking against her knee, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Sorry, Miss Jiso!” She's quick to tell him it's alright, gaze lifting to find you had caught up to them.

Her stare turns cold. “Hope you're happy, I just got fired.” Arms crossed over her chest, the weight shifting onto one leg, popping her hip out. Was she serious? You don't even bother to mask the laugh that falls from your lips at her ridiculousness.

“You're a shit employee,” Gentle fingers run through Hyunki's soft hair. “Baby. Go tell your father it's time to go,” With a quick nod, Hyunki is back to running at full speed. On his tiptoes he taps in the code he's seen you both punch in a ton of times. The door clicks open and he's rushing in.

Jiso only offers an annoyed scoff, before she's brushing past you. Heels clicking as she leaves the corridor, mumbling angrily to herself.

“Daddy! It's time to go!” In the middle of rerecording the spoken bit of his song, Hyunki's voice overlaps. He's stopping the track, just as he steps further into the room. Hitting play, the sound of his son calling for him echos throughout the room.

Hyunki gasps. “That's me!” A hand clamped over his mouth as his eyes go wide. Yoongi lets out a laugh, turning in his chair so he can fully face him. “I think we should keep it, what do you think buddy?”

Something of an intro as the beat starts. “Yup!” Not needing any details before he's agreeing. Small hands tug on Yoongi's large one, attempting to pull him from his seat. “Mommy said she was very hungry.” He allows himself to be pulled to his feet, arms reaching down to lift Hyunki onto his side.

“Ooh, we better hurry. Mommy's grumpy when she's hungry.” Hyunki's head is nodding quickly, eyes widening slightly as he tilts his head to look at his dad. “And she talks too much too,” Despite the laugh that breaks through Yoongi's lips, he's quick to remind Hyunki not to talk about his mom like that.

A tiny huff leaves his lips, hand lifting to rest on his cheek. “You said first,” He says, but mostly lets it go. No doubt saving it to get him in trouble later on. Sometimes it shocked him how alike they were.

JUNE 13TH, 2020 | 20:39

Yoongi enters the room, damp shirt sticking to his stomach. A bright smile brightening his features, his eyes landing on your body curled up under his sheets. His heart pounds, the way it always does when he sees you. Basically skipping over to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Nearly stuttering when he sees the smile that pushes onto your lips.

“See? Bedtime is not that hard.”

Pretty eyes roll at his words, fingers dropping to graze over the wet fabric of his shirt. Peaking down to admire the bit of skin you can see through the material. “Yeah? Your shirt's all wet. He splashed you, didn't he?” Eyes finding his, soft strands of hair bouncing as he shakes his head slightly.

Yoongi steps back, putting a bit of distance between the two of you so he's able to pull his wet shirt from his body. You watch him shamelessly, in silent awe as he carelessly reveals more of his skin to you. Acting as if you hadn't seen him like this a million times before.

“I don't know who he thinks he is,” He strips down until he's in his boxers, ruffling his hands through his hair before sliding into bed beside you. Body turning at once, he doesn't hesitate to tuck you underneath his arm. 

Lips finding the soft skin just below his jaw as you settle into his side. “He's literally you,” Your laugh vibrates against his neck and now it's his turn to roll his eyes. Mockingly, he repeats your words. Playfulness coating his tone

His head shifts, body twists until he's able to crash his lips down onto yours. A satisfied hum leaving his lips as his mouth moves over yours. Slowly, lovingly. Taking his time with the way he kissed you as if you had all the time in the world. Because you had all the time in the world.

Gentle teeth tug at your lower lip, easily pulling your lips apart enough so his tongue can slide past them. And you accept him without a moment of hesitance, fingers curling into his hair as your wet muscles roll and push against each other. He's holding you close to him, hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt. Pleased to find the only thing keeping him from the warmth of your skin is the lace of your panties.

Seemed to be your uniform in his bed. His shirt, preferably one that smelled most like him, and a pair of panties. It was his favorite thing to see you in. Right next to nothing at all. Slowly, Yoongi's letting his lips part from yours. Kissing away the clear line of saliva that keeps your lips connected.

“Can we have another one?” His fingers toy with the lace of your panties, no doubt poking holes into the already holey material. Still on your birth control the night he had been so determined to put a baby in you, so deep in the moment that it had slipped your mind.

But the next day you were making the appointment to get it removed and now you were physically ready to grow your family. As well as mentally. “Yes,” His grin groans, nose nudging your head to the side so he's able to press his lips to your neck.

“Right now?” His words are muffled by your skin, flesh sucked between his teeth. His hands are sliding underneath your panties, gripping the flesh of your ass in his palms. Kneading and molding the flesh as if he could shape it.

You're laughing loudly at the giddiness hidden with his tone, hands reaching back to bat his hands away from your butt. “No, not right now.” You're turning in his arms easily, back pressed into his chest. He doesn't lift his hands from your body, instead allows his fingers to dance over your soft belly.

The tips of his fingers brushing against the slightly raised scar on your lower belly. Face nuzzled in the crook of your neck as his index finger runs over the long line leading from one hip to the other. His fingers repeat the motion, gentle kisses planted on your neck.

You don't notice the way your body has gone tense against him. Not use to the feeling of someone touching your scar. Always politely ignored. Yoongi's picking up on your rigidness instantly, fingers stilling.

“It hurts?”

Hand coming down to meet his, your fingers intertwine with his. Urging yourself to relax. Just Yoongi. There was nothing to worry about. He had already proved to you time and time again that things like this didn't mean anything to him.

“No, just... no one has touched it before. Feels weird,” He's nodding in understanding, lips planting one last gentle kiss to your neck before he's lifting his head to set his chin on your shoulder. “I like it,” Yoongi is deciding after a momentary silence.

The feeling that washes over you can only be described as happiness. “Really?”

“Of course. It's what got our son here. I think it's pretty... I think you're pretty.” Body leaning back into him, your head finds his shoulder. His fingers continue to rub against the scar, feather-like kisses placed over the side of your face; slowly making their descent lower on your body.

Along with his hands.

“Your hands seem to be going a bit low there, Mister.”

The laugh that leaves his lips shakes your back and warms your heart. Subconsciously spreading your legs for him, hips pushing back into his. “Are they? I didn't notice...” The tips of his fingers dip underneath the band of your panties, crawling their way further between your legs.

You open up your mouth to speak, words caught in your throat as the sound of your bedroom door slamming open fills the room. “I'll sleep here!” Hyunki shouts, and Yoongi is quick to pull his hands away from him.

He runs at full speed into the room, slowing only to climb onto the bed. He stands on the edge for a moment, a mischievous look in his eyes as he grins. Two bends of his legs and he's SuperMan jumping directly onto Yoongi's chest. “I'll sleep here!” He screams through a laugh as Yoongi's arms wrap around him.

You're turning onto your side so you can face them, smiling at the way he's spread himself on his dad's stomach, using him as his own makeshift mattress. Elbow propped up on the bed, you rest your cheek on your palm. “Do you not like your big boy bed?”

“Sometimes no.” Hyunki shrugs. His arm wrapped around Yoongi's torso, cheek smushed against his chest. “Daddy makes me sleep,” And if the sleepiness in his tone wasn't proof enough, you had no idea what would be.

Yoongi is grinning proudly at his words, arm reaching out for you. He's easily tucking you into his side. “Let Daddy make you sleep too.” The happiness in his words has your heartwarming, an arm wrapping around both of them you settle into his side.

You're falling asleep instantly in his arms. Feeling as happy as he sounds. Positive that you've never felt this content. This at peace with anyone. Yoongi. Hyunki. Your family. You loved them. Not realizing you had spoken out loud until Yoongi's smiling lips are finding your forehead. 

“I love you too.”

— when the love of his life suddenly vanishes, he drives himself mad looking for her. seemingly erased from the world, he’s forced to pick up the pieces of his life and move on… fast forward three years and someone who looks a lot like the woman he lost is being spotted, holding a kid with an oddly familiar gummy smile…

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

[bluewhale52]

Little Black Book: The One You Had a Crush On

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart. Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Kim Taehyung, the one you had a crush on.

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader

Rating: EXPLICIT. No minors allowed.

Genre: nonidol!au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefit

WC: 6.4k

Warning: big dick Tae, oral (m & f), fingering, protected sex, ass slapping, hair pulling, a bit of exhibitionist kink, OC is greedy for Tae’s third leg, 69, facial, talk about threesome but no threesome act, a bit of begging, Grammy 2020 Tae for reference.

A/N: Cameo from the Wooga squad, though only Seojoon has speaking line in this one, we see Yoongi again briefly, mystery boyfriend finally makes an appearance (though we all know who he is by now). I can’t believe I wrote so much smut for Tae in this one. Hope you enjoy this chapter! And always, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated! 💜

Series Masterlist:  Little Black Book

You should be embarrassed at how loud your stomach growled but you were too exhausted to care.  You murmured a ‘thank you’ as your order of Katsu Kimchi Nabe was placed on your table. You immediately dug in, closing your eyes in satisfaction at the first bite.

With your stomach in a better condition, you looked around. The small cramped space was half full, it was way past lunch time anyway. The little katsu place was a hole in the wall, but the food was homely and delicious. And its location, just a block away from your office, hidden in an alley, was perfect. It was a good getaway place when things got a bit too much.

Your eyes caught a couple of men sitting just next to your table. You noticed the EMS uniform first, and when your eyes travelled up to their faces, you had to look away. You had encountered handsome men- Seokjin for one, Hoseok another- but these two took your breath away.

Perhaps feeling your eyes on them, the one with the curly hair turned to you and smiled. “Came here often?” He asked.

His partner burst out laughing. “That is such a cheesy line. I apologise for him.”

Curly hair pouted playfully. “I’m just making conversations, hyung. And we all should come here often because the food is so good!”

You laughed and gestured to your meal. “It is good. Can never go wrong with this. Are you both paramedics?”

The two men smiled. “Yes,” curly haired answered, “we’re on our lunch break. And yourself? What do you do? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

You shook your head. “Not at all. I’m an attorney. My office is just around the block.” You took out your business card and handed it to Curly Hair. “In case you need legal advice.”

Curly Hair took your card. “Miss ______, very nice to meet you. I’m Kim Taehyung, and this is Park Seojoon.” Curly Hair- Taehyung-  looked playfully at you. “You know, you can just ask me for my number and I’ll gladly give it to you.”

You scoffed at his remark, and his partner chided him in mock annoyance. “You’re such a shameless flirt.”

Taehyung winked at you. “I’ll give you my card in return. Hang on.” He reached into his pocket and took out a scrap of paper. He scribbled on it and gave it to you.

“Wooga Band. Wednesday 7pm.” You raised an eyebrow at the name of the club and the address he had written underneath. It was a little bar near your university. You wondered if Taehyung was a fellow alumnus.

“That’s us. And a couple more of my hyungs. Come see us play.” Taehyung invited. “We play till 9, then maybe I can take you to my favorite katsu place.”

You snickered at his flirting. The older paramedic piped in, “We’re not that bad, seriously. Come check us out.”

You folded the piece of paper and slid it into a slot on your phone cover.  “Well, let’s hope work won’t hold me back from seeing you guys play.” You had checked your built-in calendar in your brain, you were free on Wednesday. But there was no need for them to know that.

The two men finished their meals and were preparing to leave. You looked questioningly at Taehyung. ��“You’re not going to give me your number?”

He grinned. “Nope. Come see us on Wednesday and I’ll give it to you.”

~~~

You actually enjoyed Wooga Band’s performance. You were pleasantly surprised at Taehyung’s husky voice, and how well it fit the jazz melody. You also did not expect the effect his voice had on you. When you turned down his invitation for supper, he frowned a little. But he quickly brightened up when you offered a better alternative- his or your place.

“Let’s go to yours.” He chose. “I’m still off tomorrow but you have to work. I can just take a taxi home.”

You felt warm at his consideration. Even warmer when he stole kisses in the cab ride to your place. And more so when he cornered you in the elevator, his lips all over your jawline and his hands roaming across your middle. Arriving at your floor, you pulled him towards your apartment, and once inside, you slammed him against your door.

He moaned as you attacked his lips with yours, and pressing your body close to his, you felt his erection on your belly. Your hands went down to cup him, and he groaned into your mouth,

“So impatient, darling.” He tilted your head to gain access to your neck. You gasped when his tongue slid along your skin, but he was right, you were impatient. You knelt before him, your hands working to undo his pants, pulling them down, followed by his boxers.

You gulped when his cock sprung free. He was big and long, and your sex began throbbing at the sight. You tried wrapping your fingers around his shaft. Oh boy, you swallowed hard, you hoped you could wake up the next day.

You started with kisses on the head and along his length, then you gave shallow sucks, slowly but surely taking him in centimetre by centimetre. Your hand stroked the length that your mouth could not reach, with your saliva acting as a lubricant. You shifted on your knees, finding a more comfortable position, knowing you would need to take your time to take all of him in.

His fingers were in your hair, tugging and pulling it in sync with the groans escaping his mouth. You looked up at him as his cocked entered deeper and deeper, until it hit the back of your throat. You controlled your gag reflex, then prepared to pull out but his hand was holding your head in place.

“Can I fuck your mouth, darling?”

You nodded as much as you could. He moved lazily at first, but soon he got greedy. The grip in your hair was tighter, and you had to close your eyes when his hips picked up the pace. Your mouth ached, you were drooling all over the cock pistoning your mouth, but you felt delirious having given control to the man before you. Your pussy was leaking too, eager to be stretched.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Taehyung fucked your throat faster. “Open your eyes, darling.”

You mewled around his cock as you forced yourself to look up at him. He cursed again, and slammed his hips forward one last time and made your mouth cockwarm him. You gargled around him, fighting the intrusion.

“Relax, darling. You can take it, can’t you?” You pressed your tongue up against his shaft. “Good girl.”

He let go of your hair, and his fingers gently caressed your cheeks. “Such a good girl for my cock.” You whined desperately.

Chuckling, he pulled himself out, and you panted for air. He helped you up, but as soon as you were on your feet, he turned you around so it was your back against the door. He hiked your skirt up and licked his lips at the sight of your thigh-high stockings.

“I want to eat you out, but I think I’ll explode if I don’t fuck you now.”

“Then fuck me.”

He chuckled. “You want me to fuck you here? Where your passing neighbors can hear?” He tugged your panties down, tutting at the arousal that had already pooled there. He brought the fabric to his mouth and sucked greedily. You keened at the sight.

He tossed your soiled underwear over his shoulder. “You taste so fucking good. And so fucking wet.” His fingers were prodding your pussy lips. Watching you, he inserted a finger in, and then another. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“Want your cock, Taehyung.”

“Gotta stretch you, darling.” He smiled as the pout on your face changed when he added a third finger.

You writhed your hips, wanting more. “Please, fuck me.”

He spread his fingers in you, wincing at how tight you were. He fingered you a bit more, then he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty.

“Tae…”

“Finger yourself, darling.” He instructed as he dug around the pocket of his pants for a condom. “Get yourself ready for me.” You did as he asked. Your two fingers felt like nothing compared to his thick long digits, and you made your complaint clear to him. He chuckled again as he rolled the rubber over himself. Then he grabbed your hand and brought your fingers to his mouth. Your breath hitched as he sucked them clean. 

“I’m going to eat you out before I leave.” He promised.

He turned you around, so you faced the door. When one of his large hands held your hip, you held your breath. You felt the head of his cock entering you, and it felt so tight already. You moaned out as the head was finally in, and you yelped when he thrusted himself into you without warning.

He rubbed your hips and your back, soothing you, giving you time to adjust. But goddamn- how could you adjust? You felt too full, you did not think you had ever been stretched this much before. You controlled your breathing, relaxing yourself and the pain quickly turned to pleasure. Your walls were not fighting the intrusion anymore, they were clenching almost rhythmically now around his cock. So you wiggled your hips, encouraging him to move.

He obliged immediately. He pulled himself out slowly, before ramming back into you hard. Your moans got louder  and your body was jerked forward with every thrust that soon your cheek was pressed against the door as Taehyung continued to fuck you hard.

“Come on, darling, you want your neighbours to hear, don’t you?” he egged you on, his hand travelled to the back of your neck. He fucked you harder now, holding your neck so you did not hit your face on the door. You mewled stupidly, and at a particular rough thrust, you screamed his name.

“That’s it. Let your neighbours know who’s fucking you.”

“Oh God, yes, Tae! Oh!” Your vocabulary was reduced to four words. He was going even faster and more roughly now, encouraging you to be louder too. Your thighs were starting to shake, and you tried to hold on to the door, your fingernails clawing at the laminated wood.

“Close, close…” you whimpered.

“I know darling, I can feel you tightening on me.” The fingers on your neck moved upwards to your hair. He yanked your head back, and his other hand smacked your ass again and again. You finally reached your peak. Screaming out his name, your body shook and you swore you saw white stars behind your closed lids.

Your pussy walls pulsated erratically around Taehyung’s cock, and he growled as he got nearer to his orgasm too. Once you had recovered from yours, you moved your hips backwards, meeting his halfway, and soon he came undone.You felt his cock twitch inside you, as he shot his seeds into the rubber. A few more sloppy thrusts followed, then he let go of your hair.

“Fuck, that was so hot.” He gasped. He pulled out gently, then took the condom off and tied it. He discarded it carelessly on the floor.

“God, I feel like such a groupie.” You felt like jelly splattered on the door.

He laughed as he helped you straighten up, massaging your hips and back gently. “Nah, you’re the first fan I fucked. You’re okay? I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He hugged you from behind.

You shook your head. “I’m OK. It was… hot. And really? You never hooked up with any of your fans?”

“Nope.” He rubbed your shoulders. “Just you. I like your vibe right from the beginning.”

“Wow, I’m so honoured. Though it is likely I’d have to move out after tonight.” You rested your head on his chest.

“Well, this place is a dump anyway.” You laughed at his comment, then squealed when he moved to carry you fireman style. “Where’s your bedroom? I promised to eat you out and I’d rather do it lying down.”

You did not think it possible, but your battered pussy instantly became wet again. He figured out anyway where your room was, and hurriedly took you there, leaving his and your clothes piled up by your apartment’s door.

~~~

You were entering dangerous territory. You did not like how you immediately smiled whenever you got a message from Taehyung, and how your smile widened when it was silly selcas he sent. You did not like how your heart beat faster when he said he wanted to meet up and how you took extra time choosing what to wear. The man was drop dead gorgeous and you were definitely flattered by the attention, but you were starting to feel this could very well become a one sided crush.

He never asked you out on a date. It was either ‘hey I just finished my shift, wanna hang out?’ or ‘Didn’t see you at the club tonight, are you free now?’. There were times you wished his questions were less of the Netflix-and-chill type. You supposed you could ask him out yourself, but you feared that possibility of rejection so much that you would rather settle for whatever it was you had with him. You could deal with it- it was simply controlling your emotions, and you could do that, you were trained to do that. You were safe as long as you did not let yourself lose control.

It was hard however, especially when he was cuddling you, with his lower half practically over your lap. It was one of the times when he wanted to just hangout, but you both knew where that would end up.

“You’re a clingy one, aren’t you?” You massaged Taehyung’s calves.

“Is it bad?” He settled himself further on your shoulder.

“No, just wondering how many other people you’re doing this with.”

He hummed. “I told you, it’s just you. I don’t do this with anyone else. I like spending time with you.”

“You mean you like having sex with me.”

“Well, the sex is great, but this is nice too.” He gestured at the TV and the snacks on the table.

“Because it always leads to sex.”

“Mind blowing sex.” He corrected.

There was no point torturing yourself, it was just sex. It was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Ms Workaholic Climbing up the Ladder had no time for relationships. That was your number one rule with your men, that was the very first thing you declared to them to avoid any misunderstanding. So, stick with it, you scolded yourself.

Taehyung frowned at your silence. “What’s wrong, darling?” He tilted your chin so you would face him.

You shook your head gently. “Nothing.” You whispered.

He nuzzled your neck. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.” You could not help yourself but shudder when his breath fanned against your sensitive spots.

“What do you want, darling?” He prodded.

I want a lot of things from you, you wanted to say, but instead, you simply answered, “I want you.”

“How do you want me?” His hand moved to cup your breast, thumb rubbing over your clothes until your nipple stiffened from his touch. You bit your lower lip to hold back your moan. “How does my darling girl like it?”

“Oh.” you gasped when his mouth tugged your earlobe, at the same time he pinched your nipple. He chuckled, the low voice sent shivers down your spine and straight to your pussy.

He pinched your nipple again as he peppered your jawline with little kisses. “You like this?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out. Your body had gone numb. His legs were still across your lap, pinning you down on your sofa, as his large hand pressed against your breast, holding your body under his control.

“Taehyung…” you called out to him, your legs squirming, your pussy desperate for some friction.

He lifted his head to look at you. “Fuck, you look so desperate.” He smiled. “You want more?”

You nodded. “Yes, Tae, please.” You mewled shamelessly.

He leaned towards your ear, kissing and licking your earlobe, making you writhe further. “I’m going to fuck you on this couch, darling. I’m going to fuck you so good you’re gonna beg to cum. Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes…” You were starting to blatantly grind your hips under his legs. He chuckled.

“You’re gonna take my cock good, darling?” He tugged your nipple.

“Yes,” you whimpered, “I want it, Tae. Please.”

He moved slightly away from you and you nearly protested, until he pulled your top off. He stared at your lace- clad breasts hungrily. Licking his lips, he cupped them both.

“Tae, please. I want you to fuck me.” You arched your back to push your tits against his hands.

“I will, darling. You gonna take everything I give you?”

His voice had gone down several octaves, the baritone went straight to your center. You spread your legs unconsciously, you were getting more and more desperate for him.

“Yes, I’ll take it, Tae. I’ll take it all.”

And you meant every single word.

~~~

You had thought a few times to invite Yoongi to see Taehyung and his band perform. You had little musical knowledge- you had been listening to the same bands for the last five years- but you figured it was no harm to get the Wooga Band some exposure. You were hoping the music producer would find them good enough; you wanted to give that little hope to Taehyung and his friends.

The only reason you had not invited Yoongi so far was because you didn’t know what to do with two fuck buddies in one place at the same time. You knew if you showed up at the jazz club, Taehyung would want to go back to your place. You and Yoongi both knew where you stood, so you did not need to worry about any jealousy from his side if you went with Taehyung. But it still would be weird, you would be introducing one to the other and you had no idea what to expect.

You actually took extra care in your appearance that night. You wore your courtroom suit to work (which prompted everyone in the office to wish you luck for your court case when actually you had none), your heels (which you regretted slightly because your feet were aching), and most importantly, thigh high stockings and lacy bra and panties set (which Taehyung LOVED). You sighed. You kept telling yourself you did not wear this for anyone, it was for you, the combination made you feel confident and sexy. But who were you kidding?

Yoongi ended up cancelling on you, to your relief. You could barely focus on anything else but Taehyung. Taehyung, who took the stage in a loose black and white print shirt with matching bandana, paired with tight black pants. Taehyung, who smiled and winked at you as he sang about two ships passing in the night. Taehyung, who rushed to you once his band was done, as if he had not seen you in ages. You breathed in as he hugged you, the smell of lavender combined with his musky natural scent invaded you.

And Taehyung continued to fill all your senses that night, as you were riding him vigorously while sucking on his fingers sloppily. His hips rose up to meet you on every thrust, sending his cock deeper and deeper into you.

“Fuck, darling.” He smiled teasingly. “Look how good you are sucking my fingers.”

You answered by moaning against his digits and clenching your cunt around him.

“Ah, that’s right, keep sucking, darling.”

You grabbed his wrist to keep his hand in place. You kept taking his long fingers in, bobbing your head back and forth, eager to have your mouth filled. Your saliva dripped to his hand and down your chin. He hissed at the sight of you drooling.

Your hips were starting to lose your rhythm. Your thighs were getting tired, but you were getting closer to orgasm too. Your free hand snaked down to rub your clit, but Taehyung pushed it away.

“You’re gonna cum on my mouth.” He declared, yanking his fingers out which made you moan wantonly at the sudden emptiness in your mouth.

“God, you really love being filled, don’t you?” He rose up to kiss you, thrusting his hips up, impaling you as deep as he could. You grabbed onto his shoulders as your pussy walls clenched wildly around his cock.

“Tae,” you panted, “fuck, you feel so good in me.”

“I love stretching you, darling.” He whispered, his hands wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him. “69 with me?”

You whined.

“Hmm? You don’t want to suck my cock, darling?”

“I do, but then I’ll feel so empty.”

“So whiny and so needy.” He slapped your ass. “I’ll put four fingers in you, don’t worry.”

He pulled out and discarded his condom, chuckling as you continued to pout, then positioned himself in the middle of your bed. You moved to hover over his face, and his large hands gripped your hips to pull you down to his mouth. You moaned loudly as you felt his tongue swept over your puffy lips. He growled as he continued to lick you, collecting your arousal with every swipe.

You leaned down to take his cock in. Despite having a regular hook up with him, you still had to really work to get his cock in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his girth, your tongue pressing and flicking at the skin.

You felt the tip of his tongue poked into your hole then, stabbing into it, juicing you further. You moaned against his shaft, your saliva rolled down the length that you could not fit in your mouth (yet). Wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, you squeezed lightly and started to stroke him. With more lubrication, and your mouth relaxing, you slowly took more in, until the head hit the back of your throat.

He rewarded you by pushing two fingers in. You moaned, and clenched when he added another finger. “You’re still so tight, what the fuck.” He mumbled against your cunt.

He pumped his fingers slowly, while his mouth focused on your clit. Everything in you tensed up as your sensitive nub was stimulated, but you forced your throat to stay relaxed. You knew if you could get more of him in your mouth, he would give you that fourth finger. You closed your eyes and inhaled sharply through your nose as you pushed yourself. You felt the head slid slightly further in, and you immediately controlled your gag reflex.

“Oh darling, you’re so good to me.” Taehyung’s mouth left your clit to praise you. “You’re so good.”

You tightened your lips around his shaft then slowly pulled out, your saliva leaving a glistening trail. His mouth was back to tease your clit as he inserted a fourth finger. You were so stretched at both ends, and it felt so, so delicious. His tongue was flicking your button furiously, encouraged by the shaking of your legs and your moans around his cock.

He growled when your fingers instinctively dug into the flesh of his thighs. “You’re clenching so tight baby.” He said between flicks. “Gonna cum on my fingers? While you suck my cock?”

You garbled a yes, which only sent more drool down to coat his testicles. It made him piston his fingers faster and more roughly and his tongue pressed harder against your clit. You could feel your juices flow more and more into his waiting mouth, the slurping sounds pushed you closer towards your bliss.

The string in your body finally snapped. You came, and you came hard, your pussy seized his fingers in a deadly grip, your eyes squeezed shut as your screams were muffled by his cock. He continued fucking you through your orgasm, and when he felt your body starting to relax, he pulled his fingers our of your cunt and his cock out of your mouth, then flipped you over to lie your back.

“Taehyung, what- ” you sounded your objection, but he quickly cut you off by inserting the same four fingers back into your sensitive hole. You arched your back, your hands moving down to weakly swat away his, but at the same time, you spread your legs wider to accommodate him.

“One more, darling, please.” He asked sweetly. “Wanna see your face when you cum.”

His body was hovering above yours, his eyes wild with lust. He pumped his fingers almost desperately, his palm rubbing over your hooded clit. Oversensitivity quickly gave way to pleasure again, and he leaned down, supported by his free hand, his curly hair swinging around his handsome face.

“Look at me, darling, open your eyes. That’s it.”

You forced yourself to keep your eyes on Taehyung’s, even when it was getting so fucking difficult to. The more he moved his palm and his fingers, the more your eyes lost their focus, and before you knew it, your whole body became taut, and this time, with no intrusion in your mouth, you screamed his name over and over as you felt your body exploding. Your hands reached out and gripped his hair as you came, and he hissed at the stinging pain on his roots. But his fingers did not stop, they kept going, until you loosened your hold on his locks and you opened your eyes.

“So fucking sexy, darling.” He praised you. “You look so damn sexy cumming for me.”

“Taehyung.” You weakly caressed his face. He turned his face so he could kiss your palm.

He then removed his fingers and brought it towards you to look. “So wet.” He spread his fingers lightly to show you the sticky sheen he had collected. He shuffled to get his knees on either side of your waist, his soaked digits wrapping around his still hard cock. You whimpered as you watched him stroke himself.

“Cum on my face, Tae.”

“Fuck, you sure?”

You looked him in the eyes and nodded. “Paint my face white.”

He growled again in that baritone voice of his, and jerked himself intensely. You eagerly waited for his seed spraying onto your face, your eyes flicking between his eyes and the head of his cock. Your pussy was still throbbing from your last orgasm, and you snaked your hand down to rub on your battered clit.

Taehyung saw your hand move to the spot between your legs. “Gonna cum again, darling?”

You could only nod, as your mind went hazy one more time. You felt your thighs and your lower abdomen tensing up, and you rubbed your clit in tight circles, urging yourself to come for the third time that night. You ignored the oversensitivity, you knew it would soon go away. And you were right, before long, your body started shaking again. Keeping your eyes on him, you welcomed another orgasm, albeit weaker than before. You heard him curse, then you felt a splatter of warm liquid hitting your cheek. You quickly opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, hungry for a taste of him. You kept your finger pressed on your clit as he decorated your face with his cum.

You closed your mouth, swallowing the cum that had made it there, and you licked around your lips for more. He squeezed the last drop of cum out of his cock, then collapsing next to you. You lay side by side, recovering from your intense session.

After a few minutes, he got up from the bed, murmuring that he needed to clean you up. You grunted your response inelegantly, and he chuckled. Coming back with a wet towel, he started to gently wipe your face, then your sex, taking extra care knowing how sore you were. Then he plopped back down next to you.

You liked this best, when he turned to you to lay his head on your chest, his long arm and leg sprawled over your body. He was such a cuddler. You absentmindedly played with his hair, while his thumb rubbed circles on your ribs. You took a deep breath. You savoured moments like this with him, the intimacy allowed you to stupidly hope even though you knew it was useless. But you’d take it. This was good enough.

“That wasn’t too dirty, was it?” He asked.

You frowned at his question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I think it was the wildest sex we’ve had, but, I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

You cooed at his attention. “Tae, I enjoyed every second of it.”

He looked up at you, eyes twinkling. “You were so hot, you know. And loud.”

You laughed. “You have that effect on me.” He smiled, then put his head back on your chest.

“Can I ask you something?” Taehyung moved to lie on his side, facing you. You turned to look at him. “When, uh, when you rode me and sucked my fingers, did you like it?”

You giggled nervously. “Um…” you felt your cheeks blush, “yeah, it was a big turn on? I just like how you made me feel full. At both ends.”

He hummed. “And when we 69? Like when I fingered you and you were sucking me.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it was fucking hot.”

He nodded at your answer. He looked away then back at you. He opened his mouth to ask the next question, only to quickly shut it before he could get a word out.

“Is everything okay?” You prodded.

He cleared his throat. “Well,” he started, “I really don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it then.”

“Don’t get mad at me, okay?” He swallowed when you looked at him curiously. “Uh… would you be interested in a threesome? Maybe?”

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“You don’t have to answer!” He said hurriedly. “It just came across my mind, and I was just curious, and if you feel uncomfortable answering, you don’t have to say anything. God, just forget I ask!” He rolled onto his back and covered his face with his arm.

You stared at him. He wanted to have a threesome with you? Did you want to have a threesome with him? “Tae, have you ever had a threesome before?”

“Uh, yeah, once in university.” He was still covering his face.

“With a girl and another guy or with two girls?”

“A girl and another guy. The girl was someone I knew who wanted to try it. The guy was my best friend in university, well he’s still my best friend now.”

“Okay, so that threesome you asked,” You couldn’t believe you were having this conversation with your crush. “if I said yes, who would it be with?”

“Uh, I’d ask my best friend.” He answered sheepishly. “I mean, I trust him, you know? With my life. I know he would be discreet and respectful, he would treat your right, and he would never ever breathe a word about it to anyone ever, and-“

“Why do you want to have a threesome with me?” you interrupted him.

“Because,” he took a deep breath, “the way you looked and sounded just now, fuck, it was just so insanely sexy! And I- for some reason- kept seeing you with another cock rather than my fingers. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You thought about what he said. Riding Taehyung while having another cock in your mouth. Sucking Taehyung while another cock pounded your pussy. Your body felt hot, you could not even tell if it was from embarrassment or arousal, until you pressed your legs together. Yup, it was arousal.

“Taehyung,” you pulled his arms away. He glanced at you. “I want to. Let’s do it.”

He sat up, shocked. “Fuck, really? You don’t think I’m a pervert?”

You laughed as you sat up too. “Yes, really. And no, I don’t.  Like I said, I like feeling full. From both ends.” You were sure your cheeks were red as a beet as you convinced him. You were sure, 100% sure. You wanted to experience this with Taehyung. Fuck, you had made a sex tape with Yoongi, you definitely could do a threesome with Taehyung. Yes, you wanted this.

“Wow. I hated myself for asking you, but now I’m super… excited.” You glanced down at his member. Oh he was excited, all right.

You scooted closer to him, maybe you both could have one more go before he had to leave. “So, who is this best friend?” You asked, rubbing his pecs.

“Actually, you may know him. He’s an attorney too.” He pulled you onto his lap. “His name is Park Jimin.”

You felt blood draining from your body. 

FUCK.

~~~

Today

The band finishes their last song, and as last applause dies down, you turn to your friend. “So, what do you think? They’re good, right?”

“Hmm. They’re not bad.”

“You like them!” You clap. “I’m a pretty good talent scout, aren’t I?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Don’t give up your day job.”

You scrunch your face at him then grab his hand. “Come, I’ll introduce you to them.”

You pull Yoongi closer to the stage, then wave energetically at Taehyung, who is helping out his hyungs clearing their instruments. His eyes widen when he sees you, mouth breaking into that boxy smile you’re so fond of.

“Hey! Long time no see!” He hops off the stage and rushes to hug you. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. Oh it’s so good to see you.” You give him one last squeeze before letting him go. “Tae, this is Min Yoongi, a music producer.”

Taehyung’s jaw drops. “Oh my god. Min Yoongi. THE music producer.”

Yoongi rubs his neck uneasily.

“He’s shy.” You wink at Taehyung as his band mates join him. You make the introduction all over again, and laugh cheekily at Yoongi’s increasing discomfort as the band members fanboy over him. Seojoon, the oldest member of the band, shepherds the whole group to a table, where he promptly orders drinks for everyone.

Soon, Yoongi and the band get into a deep conversation about music, and you sit back, watching them while you nurse your beer. You love watching Yoongi in his element, his passion shines through, just like your boyfriend does when he talks about poetry and arts. You are about to text him, to update him on Yoongi’s positive reaction to the Wooga Band, when Taehyung slides to sit next to you.

“I can’t believe Min Yoongi is here. And he actually likes our stuff.” He whispers excitedly, as if saying it any louder would make Yoongi disappear into thin air.

You giggle. “Of course he likes your stuff. You guys are seriously good.”

Taehyung rubs his face. “Best day ever.” He exhales slowly, then turns to look at you, to really look at you. “How have you been?”

“I’m good.”

“Good.” He clears his throat. “I haven’t seen you much since…. well since that night, so I was worried…”

“I told you I was busy.”

“Yeah I know, I know.” He sighs wistfully. “Still, I was worried.”

“Taehyung, that night,” you lower your voice, “is one of the best nights of my life.”

He smiles smugly as he leans in. “It is pretty mind blowing for me too.”

“Honestly, I was extremely nervous about it, but once we started, oh my god, Tae, it was so fucking hot. I still think about it a lot.”

Taehyung smirks. “Don’t you have a boyfriend now? Should you not be this obvious about that night?” He teases.

You take a swig off your beer. “Well, he doesn’t need to know everything I did in the past, does he?”

You both giggle giddily. God, you really miss him.

“So, we’re good?” He asks.

“Of course, we always are.” You clink your beer with his cola, your crush long forgotten but your friendship remains intact. “Wooga Band is getting more fans, I see.” You look around to see a considerably larger crowd than when you first saw them play many months ago.

“Yeah, it’s great. The club keeps asking us to play more nights, you know.“

“Wow, that is amazing! Once you record a song with Yoongi, you’ll be a household name!”

Taehyung waves your comment away shyly. “Ah, we’ll see. It’s nice to think that, but… we’ll see.”

You hum. “Are you still working as a paramedic?”

He nods. “Yeah, but this month would be my last.” He chuckles at your shocked expression. “I’m going back to get my Master’s. I want to be a counselor.”

“Taehyung, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy to hear that.” You truly are happy for him. He has mentioned before that he wanted to do more to help people. You hug him. “You will make such amazing difference in people’s lives.”

He hugs you back then lets you go. “You’ve always been my biggest cheerleader. Thank you.”

You look at him fondly, then hug him again. “I’ll always support you, Tae.”

Your boyfriend joins you later that night, work having kept him longer than usual. You introduce him to Taehyung and the band (he has met Yoongi before), and you wonder at Taehyung’s tone towards your boyfriend when the former says, “Good to know she’s in good hands.”

You don’t spend too much time pondering that, however, as your boyfriend pulls you to the side, a little away from the group so he can kiss you properly. You smile at him lovingly, content to be in his embrace.

“Yoongi seems to like Taehyung and his band a lot.” He comments.

You nod as you snuggle him. “I bet he already has a song in mind for them.”

Another band is on the stage, playing something sensual. The alcohol you have consumed, combined with your conversation with Taehyung about THAT night, is stirring something inside you. You wrap your arms tighter around your boyfriend’s middle, resting your head on his chest. You swear his pecs get bigger after every trip to the gym.

“You’re clingy tonight.” He teases. You look up at him and pout. He smiles before leaning down to kiss you.

“Daddy,” you call him sweetly.

“See, clingy.” He kisses the tip of your nose.

“Daddy,” you whisper, “would you ever want to do a threesome?”

A/N : Tada! I hope you enjoy reading this, and have I teased you enough about the Jimin chapter?? :D

Published on 06052021