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shy-writer-999 · 5 months ago

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Subby Ace + aphrodisiacs: your top turned bottom!

Summary: Poor Ace has gotten into something with sex pollen in it. He's a mess and you're the only person who can help him. There's something delightful about seeing your very dominant boyfriend reduced to begging, whining, and even crying for a crumb of your pleasure. CW: straight up SMUT. very very pathetic needy filthy whiny ace. afab reader w/gendered language ('princess'); sex, edging, masturbation, blow job, hand job, dacryphilia, overstimulation, you name it. countless orgasms from ace, use of 'good boy' and 'pretty boy.' minors do not interact - nsfw content!

Ace is so dramatic and sensitive in bed. It gets worse when he goes on an outing by himself, and just so happens to get exposed to some form of sex pollen. He staggers back to the ship and comes straight to you.

He just won’t stop cumming. He can’t stop cumming.

His face is twisted up in anguish and he’s frowning, genuinely so miserable you think he’s about to cry.

“Baby, please help me, I’m going crazy.”

His erection looks bigger than usual—you didn’t think that was possible, and for a split second you’re worried that it won’t fit at all. But of course it will. It has fit countless times before.

“I need you. I’m begging you, sweetheart, please.” He frowns and does puppy dog eyes at you. Your heart melts, but you have to set him straight.

“Ace,” you tut. “You don’t ever need to beg for me.”

“Can I, though?” He smiles back, and it looks like a bit of a grimace.

“I’ll allow it. But you have to do what I say, okay?”

Ace nods. “Of course.” He’s thrilled at the idea of you being in control.

You sit down on the bed next to him and rest a hand on his thigh. He flinches.

“Fuck.” You can see his cock jump through the fabric of his underwear.

A simple hand on his skin like this is enough to make him squirm? It’s going to be a fun night. He looks pathetic and miserable right now. His brows are bent at the middle and he’s doing the cutest, saddest little pout you’ve ever seen.

“Touch me more, beautiful,” he murmurs and closes his eyes, mouth hanging open in concentration. His mind is fixated how your cool skin feels against his, how soft your hand is, how close you are to his throbbing hard on.

Your fingers wander over his skin, conjuring goosebumps and shudders, eliciting whimpering sounds from Ace’s pretty lips. The whimpers quickly turn into muted sounds of pleasure.

Precum seeps through the fabric of his underwear and you pity him, reaching your fingers upwards to pull the waistband down. When his cock springs out, sure enough, it’s bigger than usual, a fact which is both troubling and tantalizing.

The tip of his long shaft is red, inflamed, and defined. It glistens in the light from the dim lamp in the corner of his cabin, highlighting the precum that smears his head and continues to seep out—it’s a ridiculous amount of precum. You’ve never seen this much before.

You take a moment to admire him. Your eyes wander from his erection to his defined abs and dark, thin happy trail. Your eyes meet his. His pupils are huge and there’s a visible sheen of sweat on his forehead that mats down the hair around his temples.

Ace is trying not to be impatient, but it’s hard because his body is screaming for attention.

“Please, princess. Use me. Do anything you want to me.” His voice comes out as a whisper, tinted in reverence, and bathed in lust.

When you hum in reply, you stand up, slipping off your underwear and bra. He scoots back onto the pillows and his thighs widen while you get on top of him. Your lower yourself down to sit on top of his erection. You don’t fuck him yet, though. You just lay his shaft flat on your core and stay there for a second.

Some teasing couldn’t hurt. So, you slowly start to roll your hips, rubbing yourself on Ace’s wet shaft. It’s starting to get you worked up, too, and before you know it, you’re soaking wet.

Gasp after gasp tumbles out of his mouth and no less than thirty seconds later, he starts to seize up below you, cumming on his lower abdomen. His breaths are shallow and ragged, and he’s lying there panting.

“Don’t stop,” he chokes out, again begging for something he knows he’ll get if he only waits patiently. “Please don’t stop.”

“Poor thing.” You lean down and kiss him. Even the mere feeling of your lips on his makes him let out the softest groan. He feels like his whole body is on fire, but it’s in a way he’s never felt before, different from the logia fire he’s so accustomed to.

His kisses quickly turn greedy and sloppy, and every drag of your aching core over his cock makes him let out repressed puffs of air in your mouth. Soon, he’s moaning straight into your mouth.

God, he’s so worked up it’s starting to be more fun than you imagined.

Lining up his sticky wet tip with your entrance, you finally start to sink down onto his cock, going deliberately slow so he doesn’t cum again (yet). But when he bottoms out, his hips buck up inadvertently, hitting your gooey hot spot inside.

“F-fuck, fuck,” Ace groans again. “Feels, ah, feels so good.”

He’s practically keening at this point, back almost arching off the bed, fingers digging into the skin of your hips.

You start to ride him slowly. Whatever way feels best. Sometimes you pull yourself up his shaft so only the tip is inside and plunge it back in, other times you keep him inside of you and grind your hips back and forth. One moment, you brace your hands on his chest for more leverage; the next moment, you lean in and kiss his neck, leaving love bites in a trail from his neck to his shoulder. The contact draws out a body-wracking moan from the dark-haired man beneath you—the sounds he’s making are delicious.

He cums aggressively again, hips jerking upwards. Each press of his cock up hits your g-spot and when he feels your body shift in response it drives him crazier.

Ace’s fingers are pulling you downwards, pushing himself deeper inside of you.

“Need more,” he chokes out.

When your legs start to burn, he does all the work for you. Muscly, rough hands come under your thighs, moving you effortlessly up and down until you’re the one cumming, writhing in ecstasy on top of him.

But Ace still doesn’t want to stop. “Keep going, please.”

He has the habit of saying please in bed. It’s endearing. When he asks so nicely, it’s hard to say no.

So, your hips move more. And more. And more. Until they’re numb and he’s fucking you stupid.

You’ve collapsed on top of him now, mewling in his neck from each thrust. “C’mon baby, give me another.” You murmur in his ear, voice seductive and honeyed. It’s all he needs to hear before he literally cums on command.

He’s usually an animal in bed. Buy boy, whatever sex pollen or aphrodisiac he ran into today is doing a number on him. You, very obviously, have no issue with it.

Feral sounds escape his lips while Ace pumps more of his hot seed inside. It’s seeping out of you, creeping down the sides of his body, and saturating the fabric of the bedspread below him. It’s going to leave a massive, milky-white stain. And he isn’t done yet.

“Keep going,” he looks absolutely pathetic. “Please, please, I—I’m going crazy.” He can barely get the words out, so pussydrunk and out of it that he’s on the verge of drooling.

You smile and kiss him on the cheek. “Missionary. But you’re going to go nice and slow, okay?”

Ace nods vigorously in return. He repositions. One of his warm hands is on your waist now, while the other gropes upwards to massage and caress your chest.

He takes his time, just like you told him. From this angle, you can see his face more—and it’s glistening, evidently he’s been crying. He’s been crying because of how good it feels. Something about the idea is wildly erotic. He wants pleasure so badly that he’s begging and crying over it, literal tears from those pretty brown eyes.

Every orgasm feels better than the last. He shoots more seed inside of you again, quickly, almost immediately upon entering you. But there’s a rebound period before his second orgasm where you decide to be a bit cruel.

“Slower, Ace.”

He complies, hips shaking, moving centimeters at a time. There’s so much cum inside of you that it’s almost sloshing out, squelching so loud you’re thankful no one is around to hear. His eyes are glued to where the cum seeps out of you, drinking up the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you with every pass.

Gravelly, obscene groans tumble out from him every second—it’s almost a constant stream.

“Wanna go faster,” he rasps, eyes snapping up to yours. You see more tears gathering on his lash line.

“Not yet, baby. Be a good boy and wait for it, okay?”

When he hears you call him that—good boy—a strangled sounding gasp erupts from his lips and his hips shudder. “Fuuuuhhhccckkk.”

Desperate, heaving breaths accompany his extreme efforts. He’s trying not to cum, trying not to buck and rut haphazardly and mindlessly into your cunt like some animal in heat.

A couple more moments of agonizing slowness pass. When you’ve decided he’s behaved, and when you’re similarly desperate enough, you give him the go ahead.

“Faster.”

His hips snap into action and he’s cumming again within a couple seconds. It’s amazing that he still has cum to give, that he’s not completely shooting blanks at this point, that he hasn’t drained his balls completely yet. But, surely, he’ll get there.

“Mmmpppphhhh,” he moans, deafeningly loud. “Ah, ah, fuck, f-feels so good, fuck.”

“Keep going, ‘m close,” you keen his name and his hips pick up the pace. Each time his cock pushes on your sweet spot it makes you see stars. You’re getting close and he’s getting overstimulated.

When you cum again the pleasure is white-hot and euphoric, buzzing every nerve in your body. Ace does the same—he’s too sensitive, can’t handle the feeling of your walls squeezing and milking him for long before he’s careening into his own wave of euphoria.

He slows down and starts to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. He’s sweaty and his body is hot. Looks like the sex pollen is making his devil fruit powers a bit harder to control.

“You want some more, handsome?” You ask, and he nods eagerly. When you move from underneath him, you ask him to lay on his back. Rifling through a bedside drawer, you bring out your vibrator. You usually keep it in his cabin because that’s where you get the most use out of it. But today, instead of using it on yourself, you’re going to try something new.

While you’re grabbing the toy, Ace reaches a hand down to start touching himself but you tell him to knock it off.

“You need to sit there and be good for me. Don’t touch yourself and don’t cum unless I say so, okay?”

When he hears your stern tone, Ace puts his hands behind his head, and peers down to see what happens next. It’s hard for him to stay still, but he tries his very best.

Situating yourself between his thick thighs, you turn the vibrator on and bring it to the head of Ace’s cock. He almost immediately starts to seize up. He’s going to cum again. But where would the fun be if you just let him?

You take the vibrator away and frown. “Do I need to tell you again? Don’t cum until I say so, sweetheart.”

He pouts and nods. You bring the vibrator back and put it on the lowest setting setting. He’s hardly holding on as is, but when you turn the vibrator’s speed up, he starts to writhe in pleasure.

“’m close,” he whines, biting his lip.

You take the vibrator off again, met with a strangled sounding cry of frustration from Ace. He takes a few minutes to cool back down until he’s ready for you to start again.

Twenty, no, thirty minutes pass like this until he’s on the verge of tears again. When you finally let him have it, he asks so nicely. It’s not like he hasn’t been asking nicely before, but this time his voice cracks and you can see the tears in his lash line.

“C-can I please, please cum?” He’s being so sweet and needy. It’s crazy to think this is the strong, courageous man who has protected you countless times. Reduced to a sniveling mess, asking for another orgasm.

You say yes. He’s being so polite, so why not?

After this orgasm, he’s almost ready to tap out. He can use his safe word, obviously but… he really doesn’t want to. It feels too good. He’ll keep going for as long as he physically can.

“You still have another couple to give me, right? Don’t you want to be good for me and keep going?” You say, looking up from between his thighs. The tip of his cock is inflamed from the relentless vibrating, and his abdomen is coated in a sheen of his own cum. He’s at the point where he doesn’t care about anything, fucked-out with his mind empty.

When he nods his head mindlessly, you take your turn. You sink down on his cock (again) and ride him for as long as it takes you to orgasm. For the record, it doesn’t take long, but Ace has lost track of time.

He’s being louder than usual. Every few seconds he lets out some form of a whine, a whimper, a “fuck,” a “please,” or a “’s too much.” His cheeks are bright red, accentuating those cute freckles, and his eyes are half-lidded. He’s so handsome it makes your stomach flip. He’s falling apart with minimal effort, and he’s all hands, too. He grabs handfuls of the plush skin of your hips and ass, kneading and getting himself more wound up.

Ace cums once while you’re working up to your own orgasm, then again when you’re cumming on his cock, and then a third time, when you pull yourself off his length and wrap a hand around his shaft. Every time he cums, you encourage and praise him. It drives him crazier.

“There’s a good boy,” you say. “Keep going for me. Don’t stop.”

You talk dirty to him while you give him one very long hand job. He eats it up, loves the idea of you speaking filth to nobody but him. Before you started seeing each other, he couldn’t imagine you had this sort of mouth on you—not in his wildest dreams. It’s his delight every time you’re in bed that you feel comfortable enough with him to talk like this.

“You’re just too sweet I can’t stop Ace,” your voice oozes in desire. “And you’re being so good for me.”

“’s good?” He slurs, holding your eye contact as much as he can manage.

“Mmmhm. Tell me what it feels like. Use your words, okay?”

His eyes flutter and his voice comes out as a whisper. “So good. F-feels so fucking good.”

You coo in his ear and bite his earlobe softly. “Don’t I always make you feel so good?” He nods in a silent reply, rocking his hips up to fuck himself with your fist.

As you milk more cum from him, he reaches a hand up—you initially think he’s going for your chest, but his hand falls on your cheek and he attempts to pull you into a kiss. He’s a bit weak in his current state, so you oblige him by leaning in.

It’s just gut-wrenchingly cute of him to be fucked dumb like this and still want to get kisses from you. He’s just thanking his lucky stars that you, of all people, is who he ended up with.

While you explore his mouth with your tongue, and cup his face with your free hand, his heart feels like it’s going to burst.

He cums again. The fact that he still has cum to give is preposterous in itself. You’ve lost track of time at this point, too.

You make him eat you out and he’s (understandingly) sloppy with it. His hot mouth feels just right on your core, and he pays just enough attention to your clit. Feeling you pull on his hair makes him feel more aroused than he thought possible.

So, he’s ready to fuck you again. He goes for another round in missionary, then puts you into a mating press. Afterwards, he gets tuckered out and you figure that he has one good one left in him, or, rather, he probably has more to give but he really should give it a rest after that. It would be way too cruel to make him keep going after this one, right? You’ll decide the answer to this question after he cums for you again.

“One more, Ace,” you pet his ruffled up hair and grace him with kisses. “You can do that for me, can’t you, pretty boy?”

He nods obediently.

“There you go,” you purr and start to trace your lips down his abdomen, licking up a small portion of the very large mess he’s made on himself.

His eyes widen as he realizes he’s about to get one of his very favorite things—a blowjob from none other than yourself.

He lifts his head up and watches in awe as you lick a long stripe up his shaft and then take him whole, hollowing your cheeks before you start to suck him off. You’re gentle at first, until he starts moaning louder, then you figure fuck it, he can cum. You let him off easy this time. He’s just been so good for you.

When you look up from your position between his legs, you make eye contact, nod, and then hum. It sends him over the edge. Ace’s fingers snake into your hair and he holds your head down as he cums down your throat.

“C-cumming, ‘m cumming, ah, fuck, fuhhhcckkk that feels good,” his groans are harsh and loud.

He’s so sweet afterwards that it’s heart melting. You know that he must be tired, but he doesn’t act the part. Not when you’ve been so good to him, when you’ve praised him, taken your time with him, coddled and kissed him. It almost makes you feel guilty how affectionate he is.

Pulling into you a long, tender kiss, he so sweetly says, “fuck, you’re perfect. I can’t believe someone like me gets to be with someone like you.”

You cup his cheeks and tell him to cut it out. Of course someone like him gets to be with someone like you. He’s perfect, after all. You cuddle him in bed for a while before he, again, very politely, asks if you’d help clean him up. He’s positively covered in cum and doesn’t want to stain anything else more than he already has. Seems like this is another pair of bedsheets that can be considered properly soiled. Not like that will stop you from doing the same thing in the future.

Now, where did he come across that sex pollen again?

this style of writing for me (when i just write straight up smut with no plot) is akin to a sort of slop. i am the lunch lady handing out scoops of questionable and most likely unsatisfying mush BUT sometimes on a good day it is delicious... i can only hope the slop today did not disappoint... >_> cant say this one is my absolute fave so apologies if it's trash T-T but i love the idea of him being so whiny like this..!!

check out my masterlist and also the best piece i've written on ace so far, if you liked this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune

taglist @eggrollforyou

#very proud of the ace collage i made #HUZZAH for calling ace a pretty boy #i would do sinful heinous filthy things to this man if i could #portgas d ace smut #portgas ace smut #one piece smut #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x y/n #op ace x reader #ace x you #ace x reader

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coffeetintedlipstick · 1 month ago

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ultraviolence - tommy miller

summary: you've been secretly sleeping with tommy (your stepfather's brother) for a while and he gets mad at you when you accidentally slip up in front of joel and risk him finding out about your secret

CONTAINS: SMUTTT, tommy is angry and lowkey mean, PinV, oral, fingering, clothed sex, manhandling, angry/rough sex, face slapping, age difference, size difference, crying/dacryphilia, verbal humiliation, degrading kink, praise kink, teasing, terms: "atta girl", "little girl"

full ver on ao3!! this is just the smut part <3

“It was just a slip up, Tommy, I-” You suddenly get cut off by his hand firmly grabbing your jaw, causing you to gasp as he turns your head up to look him in the eyes. You’ve never made Tommy mad like this before and it’s incredibly intimidating.

“If I get in trouble because of your fucking attitude, I swear to god,” He threatens, his voice degrading. His tone makes the gears in your head turn and you don’t know whether you should feel scared or turned on. You clench your thighs together, your bottom lip quivering.

“I’m gonna make sure you promise me you’re not gonna tell your daddy about this, alright?” He says. The sudden implications of his words make you nervous yet eager as you watch one of his hands reach down to undo his belt. Your mouth waters but you stay quiet, already unsure of how badly he’s going to rough you up and not wanting to increase your chances of him leaving marks you won’t be able to hide. You panic a little more when you remember you don’t have any condoms in your room, but your brain dismisses the thought when Tommy sits next to you on your bed. He pushes down his boxers, his already stiff cock springing free from his pants. You get on all fours next to him, dipping your head down as he grabs a fistful of your hair. You try to start slow and lick the tip of his cock experimentally before he clenches your hair in his fist just tight enough to hurt.

“Ah, ah,” He scolds you like he would scold a dog for misbehaving. “You don’t get to take your time with this today. I’m not going easy on you.”

You take a second to process it before giving him a shy nod. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and he pushes your head down mercilessly. You moan around his girth, tears stinging at your eyes as he lets you come back up. You try and take all of his length again, relaxing your throat now and bobbing your head up and down, eager to please him.

“Atta girl,” He praises, holding onto your hair and guiding your movements. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” He grins at you devilishly, taking pride in your desperate attempts to impress him. You can only let out muffled whimpers around his cock, a few small tears trickling down your face. He uses his free hand to reach under you, sliding his fingers under your shorts and teasing at your wet folds.

“You’re soaked already,” He says with a chuckle, slipping two fingers into you and pumping them in and out of you painfully slowly. “You’re so fucking small, y’know that? You feel tight even just around my fingers, sweetheart,” He pulls your hair back, yanking your mouth off of his dick abruptly. You try to catch your breath, panting softly and trying to recover from how roughly he had fucked your mouth. He stands up from the bed, grabbing you by your waist and pushing you down onto your back. His hands run over your shoulders and chest, groping at you through the shirt you took from him. He finds it endearing that you wear his clothes and wonders if it’s something you get off on.

“It’s been a while since I gave you a proper fuck, huh?” He says, grabbing your thighs and pulling you forward slightly so you’re pressed up against his hips, laying down displayed in front of him. “My poor little girl.” He teases with a soft laugh, bringing his hand down to your throat.

“Gonna give it to you rougher than you’ve ever had it,” He almost warns you, leaning down to make eye contact with you. “Think you can handle that?” You immediately nod, not entirely out of honesty. It’s rather just your very strong desire to please Tommy. What he says goes, no questions asked. Tommy puts two fingers in you again, curling them inside you and making you squirm. He’s torturing you by making you wait.

“Tommy, please…” You whimper.

“Please what?”

“I need it,”

“Use your words,” He clearly finds your agony entertaining because he starts moving his fingers more slowly and his grip around your throat tightens.

“Need your cock, Tommy,” You whine, gripping onto the sheets of your bed, wrinkling them under your grasp. Tommy decides that you’ve said enough and drags his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them up to his mouth and licking off the slick coating his digits. Your face grows even more red at the sight of it. He rubs the tip of his cock against your wet folds a few times before starting to slide himself into you, holding onto your hips tightly to keep you in place while he presses inch by agonizing inch into you. Even after taking it almost a dozen times, his girth still surprises you. He lets out a low, guttural groan as he manages to fit the whole thing inside of you, amused by how you clench around him in an attempt to cope with his almost intolerable size. Without any warning, he pulls out of you almost completely just to immediately slam back into you, his movements already harsh and aggressive. You let out a loud moan, causing his hand to tighten around your throat even more as he starts ruthlessly fucking you.

“Be fucking quiet,” he says in a low voice through heavy breaths. “You’re gonna get us caught.” You’re supposed to feel scared, but Tommy notices your walls tighten around him at his suggestion. He scoffs, letting go of your throat just for you to be met with a slap against the side of your face. You wince as you let out a surprised whimper, the stinging sensation lingering on your cheek. He’s never done that to you before but it’s making you start to see stars.

“Promise me you’re not gonna tell your daddy about this,” His tone is demanding, his movements getting even rougher. “Swear to me that you’re gonna keep your pretty little mouth shut.” You have to suppress a loud moan, giving him a desperate nod.

“I-I promise, Tommy,” You manage to say through small sobs. “I’ll be good, I swear.”

“And you’re gonna keep letting me fuck this pretty little cunt and not speak a word of it to anyone, right?” He growls. “Say: yes, Tommy.” He orders you.

“Y-yes, Tommy,” You whimper, your voice shaky as you pant harder. Tommy notices you getting louder and puts his palm over your mouth, holding it there insistently to cover your noises.

“I’m gonna cum in you and you’re gonna be a good little girl and keep your mouth sealed, okay?” His question is entirely rhetorical. It’s absolutely a demand rather than something he’s actually asking you. He slams his hips against you faster, his girth invading your small entrance every time he thrusts forward. You can feel him approaching his climax in the way he grips you and the noises emitting from him. His voice gets more primal, entirely motivated by pure lust and hunger.

“I’m so lucky,” Tommy pins you down to the mattress with a strong enough force to leave bruises. “Getting to fuck my brother’s cute little stepdaughter in his house while he’s in the other room, completely fuckin’ clueless.” He huffs out a small laugh. If his hand over your mouth wasn’t stopping you from making any noise, you’d probably be screaming in ecstasy. He lets out a few overstimulated gasps before he squeezes his eyes shut and you feel him finally shooting his load into you. You cum at the exact same time, and his hand slips off your mouth just in time for you to moan his name as you coat his dick with your cum. He presses into you deeply a few more times before collapsing onto your bed beside you, his arm wrapped around you.

“Fuck, Tommy…” You whisper under your breath, your voice raspy from how heavily you were breathing and how much you’re still sweating. He wearily pulls you closer, pressing you against his chest and pressing a few kisses to the crown of your head. He lets out a small hum, holding you tight.

“You’re so good for me,” He murmurs warmly, his exhaustion obvious in his voice. “Love you so much."

#the last of us #tlou #tommy miller #joel miller #tlou hbo #tlou2 #tommy miller smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut

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pieandflannel · 2 months ago

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₊˚⊹♡ body swap pt.2

part one | part three

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

summary: what’s the first thing you do when you wake up in dean’s body? the clear obvious

cw: 18+ smut.ᐟ slightly comical.ᐟ pwp.ᐟ exploration of the male body.ᐟ male masterbation.ᐟ you match dean’s perviness [jk you’re worse].ᐟ you jerk it while in his body.ᐟ cum tasting.ᐟ you catch dean playing with himself in your body.ᐟ

word count: 1295

julia yaps: i tried my best but i don’t have a pp so i’m sorry if this is bad, you guys were begging for part two so here it is.

────────── 👥 ──────────

you get woken up by a weird feeling while sleeping on your stomach, as if you were laying on something long and stiff. you let out a little groan as you lift your head up to check the time, seven thirty in the morning was way too early for you to be awake so you rolled your eyes. “what the hell” you murmured before reaching under yourself to check what it was that was poking you.

at first you thought you must have fallen asleep on your sex toy but as you tried pulling it out from underneath you, you were rudely awakened by pain. “ouu fuck what the hell” you hissed before sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

your eyes widened as you notice you weren’t in your bed, and that you were looking down at a bulge in not your hot dog pjs. at first you were so confused, wondering why on earth would you be dreaming about something like that, but as your brain started waking up and catching up with reality, it all hit you. the god damn witch. what a fucking bitch. you must have swapped bodies with dean after yesterdays failed hunt.

you couldn’t help your curiosity, you gently poked at the bulge before hooking your fingers under the waistband and slowly peaking inside, honestly the gasp you let out could’ve woken china up.

“oh. my. god..” you gasped, your lips parted and eyes widened. there was a dick, a big dick attached to your body. well, dean’s body. well actually.. he is the owner of this dick so like- okay okay focus. there is a big hard cock in your pj pants.

but lord did it look mouth watering, no wonder dean was popular with the ladies, i mean come on, not too big but definitely not small, girthy and with the perfect amount of veins, the tip blushing pink with pearly precum leaking out, it was practically begging to be touched.

you carefully looked around the room, god were you crazy to want to try and touch it? you let out a sigh as you laid back down on the bed. this was wrong wasn’t it? dean is your friend and he wouldn’t want you to be touchi- okay that’s probably a lie, but the point still stands. it was wrong. like hello, privacy.. right?

that’s why it felt even more tempting to try. but come on you won’t be walking around with a hard on for hours, before you and dean figure out a reverse spell for this it’ll take a day if not more, plus you’ve heard somewhere before that guys just jerk off to get rid of it and that’s all. no big deal right? you’re helping yourself help dean, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

you put the palm of your hand on the bulge through the clothing, gently palming yourself. it felt.. nice, but also weird. obviously much different from a coochie.

the little devil on your shoulder tempting you to slide down the pjs and just play with it, you bit your lip thinking it through, dean will probably play with your boobs when he wakes up so.. ehh fuck it, he doesn’t need to know.

you hooked your fingers onto the waistband again and slowly pulled the pjs down till the knees, the girthy cock springing free, you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the delicious view between your legs. you couldn’t lie, dean’s cock was gorgeous.

without wasting much more time, you wrapped your hand around the cock, thumb spreading the precum all over the tip like it was lube.

which reminded you, you probably need lube. you reached into dean’s night stand drawer, searching for any bottle of lube, because let’s be real here he definitely has a lot.

“aha!” you let out as you managed to find a nearly empty bottle. this man’s been busy huh? can’t blame him honestly.

you squirted some of it on your hand and went back to business. you circled your thumb over the tip, fuck that felt so good. so so good, but you were impatient, so it didn’t take you long before starting to slide your hand up and down the shaft, slowly. dean’s hand looked so pretty as it was wrapped around his cock.

you tried feeling out every inch and detail, you eyes roaming around and exploring the lower body, the small pudge of a belly dean has was honestly a turn on, the vein that decorated his left hip looked so kissable. “fuck..” you whimpered as you sped up, gently squeezing your hand around the tip.

your breath growing heavier as you jerked yourself off, i wonder if he’d let me do it once we are back in our bodies, you thought to yourself.

the pace of your hand quickening without much thought, it felt too fucking good, your mind was going foggy from the pleasure that invaded every nerve in your body. you felt pressure building in the lower abdomen region.

you let out another whimper, your chest rising and falling as you were so close to the edge. “fuck i’m about to cum..” you moaned out before strings of white started shooting all over your hand and abdomen.

you kept on pumping your hand, trying to ride out the climax to the fullest. your breath heavy as your body tensed up before relaxing. you let your head fall back on the pillow for a second before looking down at the mess you’ve left. the head of the cock throbbing.

all this pearly white droplets, it would be such a waste to just clean it all up with a tissue, you thought to yourself. you let go of the slowly softening cock and lifted your hand up to your mouth, contemplating for a second if it would be weird trying the cum on your hand.

you shrug it off though and don’t think much of it, sticking your tongue out and licking the semen off your hand. it tasted quite salty, but then again that’s a bit obvious considering what dean’s diet consists of.

after you got your breath back you cleaned yourself up with the tissues from the nightstand and pulled your silly little hot dog pjs back up and headed out the door, down the hallway in the direction of your room, hoping to find dean in your body.

as you stood in front of the door you heard faint moans and a vibrating sound, your eyes widened “oh my god..” you whispered to yourself, he’s not- is he? you stepped a bit closer to the door, your ear gently resting against the wood trying to pick up on more noise, the moans continued.

dean found your bunny vibrator, that’s for sure. a sudden idea lit up in your brain and a smirk grew on your face. you grabbed the door handle and without knocking you opened the door, making dean jump and pull the toy out. “whoa hey do you knock?!” he spoke in your voice, it was odd to hear your own voice like that.

“well this is my room dean” you smirked, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe. “and that is my toy you’re using”

you tilted your head slightly as you caught a glimpse of a completely different angle of your coochie. “wow my pussy looks so pretty from this angle” you couldn’t stop yourself from complementing.

you walked into the room and closed the door behind you, locking it and slowly stepping closer towards dean in your body, on your bed, your toy in his hand. “i see curiosity got the best of you… need some help with that?” you offered with a smirk.

thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated <3

tags: @jensino @emeraldcrs @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @missus-ackles @littlesoulshine @deanswifeyy @slut4jackles @h8aaz @bruisedfig @angelicjackles @losers-clvb @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @rositaslabyrinth @deanspookiebear @tinas111 @bejeweledinterludes @miss-marmalade @pinksatinpanties @multiversefanfics @cupidzbunny @sunnyteume @mrsanakinwinchesterpoldark @krabog

𑁥౿ check out my masterlist for other works!

♡ see this post to be added to the taglist!

#dean winchester #pieandflannel #supernatural #jensen ackles #spn #deanwinchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #supernatural smut

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simkoos · 11 months ago

Text

╰┈➤ hot singles in your area 💘💌

⇢ caiphus buchanan, 25 - sweet, mysterious, ideal date consists of smoking a bowl, watching old-school horror movies and ordering snacks from uber eats at 2am

⇢ alexis oliver, 21 - 90's fashion aficionado, was told she looks like aaliyah once and won't let anyone forget about it smh. will probably swipe right on any guy with frosted tips

⇢ benson hedrick, 26 - works a boring 9-5, recently moved into a townhome in san sequoia and adopted a puppy but still feels a bit lonely

⇢ claire roberts, 27 - nepo baby, nursing student, always gets what she wants except a date to the bi-weekly galas...

⇢ daniel nevarez, 23 - made an account because a friend dared him to, has already gotten a few messages (mostly from women in their 40's but he's not complaining!)

⇢ julianna lin, 24 - party girl, probably the toxic one in relationships, prefers men up to 3x her age

⇢ noah palamo, 31 - originally from selvadorada but has recently relocated to brindleton bay. single and hating it. wants his future partner to love the outdoors as much as he does and won't mind living off the grid by the lake

⇢ rebecca noble, 26 - nursing student, dog mom, claire's quirky best friend. they also constantly match with each other on dating apps....

⇢ rosaura mendez, 34 - bartender, knows how to have a good time (iykyk). recently went through a messy break up with her ex-boyfriend, now wants to explore her options

⇢ avyaan parekh, 28 - professional dj from san myshuno, recently came out to his parents (who suggested he'd hop on one those dating apps to find true love. wish him luck!!)

⇢ theo stone, 36 - gym coach, health nut, wants someone to show him there's more to life than repetition, routine and choosing the right pre-workout

⇢ kendra jameson, 22 - 1st grade teacher's aide from oasis springs, kinda shy, has a crush on her mentor but knows it'll never work out so she created an account instead

⇢ kira travis, 26 - small jewelry business owner from willow creek, loves to travel, moves way too fast in relationships. once married a guy while on vacation in windenburg and got a divorce a week later. let's hope that never happens again!!

⇢ fred "manfredi valentino" valentine, 63 - owns 2 casinos in tartosa, 3 maseratis and a luxury penthouse but is pretty lonely since his wife unfortunately passed away. spends his free time going to yacht parties, gambling and spoiling his 8 grandchildren

⇢ kole fuller, 27 - in a band (guitarist and main vocalist), knows a lot of sims but doesn't have many friends outside of his bandmates and neighbors, would probably be the sweetest golden retriever boyfriend

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 #i love that there's almost 500 sims in my save and i only see about 15 in world 😎#will i continue to make sims and fill my save anyway? well yes #but yea i'm really excited for cupid's corner and will be making accounts for all of them!!

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rafayelxsylusho · 2 months ago

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hiii can I request for a ❄️xreaderx🍎 pleaaase (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) I really badly need Zayne and Caleb at the same damn time

I hope you like it! Work was a bit(h today so I'm not sure the smut is smutting on this one.

I think I'm losing that horny spark 🥲🥲.

Enjoy!!

TW: Smut

A few days before the explosion

Zayne's tongue explores every inch of your most intimate area, his mouth covering your pussy completely as he licks and sucks with wild abandon. He grips your thighs tightly, holding your legs spread wide open, allowing him unrestricted access to your dripping sex.

"God, your taste... it's intoxicating," Zayne rasps, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. He takes another long, slow lick from your entrance up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue. "I could devour this sweet cunt forever... "

His eyes flick up to meet yours. In this moment, he looks almost feral, consumed by his desire for you. Without breaking eye contact, Zayne seals his lips around your clit and suckles greedily, his tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive nub.

Your mind reels, hardly believing this is happening, you, in grandma's Josephine house, sprawled on your childhood bed. You know she won't be back for hours, her errands a gift of privacy and Caleb, remains hundreds of miles away, not due to return until tomorrow.

Zayne plunges two fingers deep into your cunt, pumping them in and out as his tongue continues its assault on your clit. Your back arches off the bed, a moan tearing from your throat as pleasure courses through you.

"Fuck, you're always so sooooo tight" Zayne growls, his fingers curling inside you, stroking that spot that makes your toes curl. He then suckles hard on your clit, his lips and tongue working in tandem to drive you closer to the edge

Your hand fists in his hair, pushing his face harder against your pussy. His other hand leaves your thigh to slide up your torso, helping you push your shirt up and expose your breast to the cool air of the bedroom. Strong fingers find your nipple, pinching and rolling the hardened peak, sending sparks of pleasure shooting straight to your cunt.

"You are gripping my fingers so fucking tight," Zayne rasps, his voice muffled against your sex as he scissors his fingers inside you.

The old bed frame creaks and shakes, the springs protesting. The window is open, you can hear the distant sounds of the neighborhood, the occasional car passing by, a dog barking, but they all fade into the background of your racing heart and the blood pounding in your ears.

You turn in panic when you hear the familiar sound of your bedroom door, as the door creaks open and Caleb's eyes meet yours through a small crack, Zayne suckles hard on your clit, pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth and at the same time, he plunges his fingers as deep as they can go, curling them just right.

"FUCK!" you cry out, your body seizing as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clamp down hard on Zayne's fingers, pulsing and fluttering as ecstasy whites out your vision. Through it all, you remain locked in the intense moment with Caleb, his expression a mix of shock and arousal.

Zayne doesn't let up, drawing out your pleasure even as your mind reels at the thought of being caught so intimately with him. The forbidden nature of it all only heightens the intensity of your orgasm, your body shaking and trembling with the force of it.

Zayne's fingers slow their movements as your orgasm begins to subside, your body going limp beneath him. He releases your clit from his lips, giving it a final tender kiss before lifting his head to look at you. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your breast still exposed.

Just as you blink in confusion, trying to process the shock of being caught, the door clicks shut. Zayne glances towards it, a flicker of something crossing his features before his gaze returns to you, his expression softening with satisfaction at the sight of your pleasure.

He carefully withdraws his fingers from your sensitive sex, bringing them to his lips and making a show of licking your essence from them. "Delicious," he murmurs, his voice rough from his own arousal.

Suddenly you hear the sound of the front door opening, Zayne sits and helps you tug your skirt back down to cover you just as footsteps echo through the old house. Panic rises in your throat as you frantically try to compose yourself, smoothing your hair and shirt.

The footsteps grow closer, and your heart pounds in your chest. You both sit frozen, hardly daring to breathe, a knock sounds at your door, and you jump slightly.

Caleb opens the door and peeks in, a friendly smile on his face "Hey pipsqueak, I'm back a day early. Figured I'd surprise you"

🍎❄️🍎❄️🍎❄️🍎❄️🍎❄️🍎❄️🍎

You stand by the open door as you watch Zayne say his goodbyes. He shakes hands firmly with Caleb, the two exchanging a look that speaks of their long standing friendship. Zayne turns to Grandma, his expression softening into a warm smile as he thanks her for the delicious meal.

Grandma beams at him, patting his cheek affectionately. "You're always welcome here, dear. I'm so glad you could join us today," she says, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles up at him. Zayne's gaze flicks to you briefly, a flicker of something unreadable passing between you before he returns his attention to Grandma.

"I appreciate you having me, ma'am. The food was excellent, as always," Zayne says, his deep voice warm with sincerity. He glances at Caleb again, a grin spreading across his face. "Let's catch up this week, yeah? I'll give you a call."

Caleb nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he leans against the wall. "Sounds good, man. Talk to you soon," he agrees, his tone easy and casual.

With a final nod to you and a wave to Grandma and Caleb, Zayne steps out into the night, the door clicking shut behind him.

🍎❄️🍎❄️🍎❄️🍎❄️🍎❄️🍎❄️🍎

After the explosion

The explosion that tore through Grandma's home left you reeling, convinced that both Caleb and Grandma had been lost in the devastating blast. The days that followed were a blur of grief and despair.

Months pass and you discover that Caleb had somehow survived and in the aftermath, life slowly began to return to a new normal. Zayne, ever the rock, was there to support you through the ups and downs.

Now, you find yourself often at Zayne's spacious home, a sanctuary away from the ruins of your past. On his days off from work, Caleb joins you, the three of you falling into an easy, comfortable routine. Movie nights, takeout dinners, and long conversations fill the hours.

Caleb's presence here feels right, like he's always belonged. Your childhood friendship with Zayne blossomed into something more, a love that has only grown stronger. And now, with Caleb here, it's as if your family is complete once more.

Zayne's friendship with Caleb also grows stronger, the two men bonding over their desire to protect and support you.

On a weekend night you and Caleb sit on the couch of the living room, each nursing a cold beer as you laugh and joke about Zayne's notorious lack of tolerance for alcohol. It's a well known fact that Zayne can barely handle more than a couple of drinks before the room starts spinning and he's ready to pass out.

Zayne looks up from the paperwork he was reviewing, his eyes narrowing slightly as he catches you and Caleb in the middle of your laughter. Normally, he would just join in on the teasing, laughing at his own expense, but tonight there's a different energy about him.

He rises from his chair, setting the papers aside with a determined expression. As he approaches the couch, he extends a hand towards you, palm up. "Hand me a beer," he says, his voice serious.

You and Caleb exchange a shocked glance, both of you freezing with your bottles halfway to your lips. It's not like Zayne to suddenly want to join in on the drinking, especially after you've been teasing him about his low tolerance.

He waits, hand still outstretched, for one of you to hand over your beer.

Caleb, ever the easy going one, immediately opens the can of beer and hands it to Zayne without a second thought. He leans back on the couch, a curious smile playing on his lips as he watches his friend's unexpected actions.

Zayne takes the cold can, his fingers brushing against Caleb's for a brief moment. He brings it to his lips, tilting his head back as he takes a long, deep swig of the icy liquid. He swallows, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before focusing his gaze back on you.

At your questioning glance, he shrugs, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I'm off work tomorrow," he confirms, as if that explains everything. And in a way, it does Zayne is not one to do anything on a whim, especially when it comes to alcohol. If he's deciding to drink tonight, it's because he knows he has the time to recover properly.

He takes another sip of the beer, his eyes never leaving yours as he does. There's a new energy in the room, a crackling tension that wasn't there before. You can feel the weight of Caleb's curious gaze bouncing between the two of you, sensing that something has shifted.

He then settles himself between you and Caleb on the couch, the three of you falling into an easy, cheerful conversation as the beer flows.

As Zayne finishes his second beer, he sets the empty can down on the coffee table with a satisfied sigh. A mischievous glint enters his eye, and a slow grin spreads across his face. He looks from you to Caleb, then back to you again before speaking.

"Remember how we used to play Truth or Dare back in the day?" he asks. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, a flicker of memory sparking in your mind. You and Caleb used to play that game all the time when you were younger, often with Zayne joining in the fun. "Wanna play again?"

Before you can answer, Caleb chimes in, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I'm game if you two are!" he says enthusiastically, always the eager participant in any challenge or adventure you and Zayne propose. He leans forward, grabbing another beer from the six-pack on the table and tossing it to Zayne, who catches it deftly.

Zayne flashes Caleb a grateful smile before looking back at you, one eyebrow arched questioningly.

You shake your head, a note of concern in your voice as you reach out to try and take the third can of beer from Zayne's hand. "Come on, you two are acting like a couple of overgrown children," you say, trying to grab the can before Zayne can bring it to his lips. "And I think you've had enough beer for one night, don't you?"

Zayne's grip tightens on the can, his eyes locked with yours in a moment of silent challenge. He opens the can and takes a slow, deliberate sip of his drink before setting it down on the table. Then he reaches up and removes his glasses, folding them carefully and setting them aside.

Leaning in closer to you, Zayne's voice drops to a low, intimate tone as he states his dare. "Well, if you don't want to play, that's fine. But Caleb does," he says, turning his head towards him "And I dare you to kiss y/n. Really kiss her, like you've been wanting to for years now."

Your breath catches in your throat, a flush spreading across your cheeks. Caleb chuckles nervously, sensing the sudden shift in the room.

"Or am I wrong?"

Before Caleb answers to Zayne's bold dare, you suddenly stand up from the couch, startling both of them.

You grab Zayne's arm, trying to pull him up and away from the tense situation. As you do, you turn to Caleb and mumble an apology. "I'm so sorry. I think I should take Zayne to bed, he's already had too much to drink tonight," you say, your voice tight with a mix of embarrassment and a hint of something more.

Zayne resists your attempt to pull him away, instead using your momentum to tug you back down onto his lap and suddenly you find yourself straddling him, your knees on either side of his thighs, your face mere inches from his. His hands come up to grip your waist, holding you in place as he leans in, his breath hot and heavy against your lips.

"I'm not drunk at all," Zayne whispers, his voice low and intense, sending shivers down your spine. His eyes bore into yours, the pupils dilated with an emotion far more powerful than alcohol. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

Zayne turns to Caleb, his grip on your waist tightening possessively as he keeps you straddling his lap. There's a new fire in his eyes, a determination that makes it clear he has no intention of backing down from this challenge. He stares at Caleb, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

"Well, Caleb?" Zayne asks "Are you going to kiss her or not? After all these years of hiding your true feelings, are you still going to run away?" He pauses for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing. "Or are you finally going to man up and take what you truly want?"

You sit frozen on Zayne's lap, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you look from him to Caleb. Zayne's words echo in your mind, stirring up feelings you thought you had long buried. The fire you felt for Caleb in your teenage years, the longing and desire you had secretly harbored for so many years, begins to resurface with a vengeance.

You had always assumed that Caleb saw you as nothing more than his best friend, a friend to protect and look out for, but never someone he could truly desire. You had pushed down your teenage crush so deeply, telling yourself it was just a product of your hormones and youthful imagination.

Caleb move and leans in closer, the distance between your lips shrinking with each passing second. Your heart races as you feel his breath mingling with your own, the anticipation building to an almost unbearable level. Just as your lips are about to touch, Caleb pauses, stopping a hair's breadth away from your own, his voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks.

"I will kiss her," his lips brushing against your own as he speaks, "but only if she is ok with this. I won't do this unless she wants me to."

You can feel Zayne's intense gaze on you, his fingers digging into your hips as he watches to see how you will react.

As Caleb's tongue darts out to wet his lips, the action proves to be your undoing. Unable to resist any longer, you close the remaining distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that is immediately hot, messy, and brimming with the pent up desire of years.

Zayne's eyes darken with satisfaction and a primal, possessive hunger as he takes in the sight of you and Caleb losing yourselves in the passionate kiss.

Your fingers tangle in Caleb's hair, pulling him closer as your mouth moves urgently against his. Years of longing and unspoken feelings pour out of you, the force of the kiss speaking to the depth of your desire. Caleb's hands come up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones as he angles your head to deepen the kiss further.

As you and Caleb lose yourselves in the heat of the moment, you can't help but feel the prominent bulge growing beneath you. Zayne is rock hard, his arousal evident as it presses insistently against your core. The knowledge that he is just as affected, just as turned on by this only serves to heighten your own desire.

Zayne's hands slide up from your hips, his fingers splaying across your ribcage before brushing the underside of your breasts. Your nipples are already hard and straining against the fabric of your shirt, aching for his touch. As if reading your mind, Zayne cups the soft mounds, his thumbs and forefingers pinching and rolling the sensitive peaks through the thin material.

Caleb swallows your moan, his own breathing growing more ragged as he continues to plunder your mouth with strokes of his tongue. His hand slides down from your face to your neck, his fingers curling around the delicate skin as he pulls you impossibly closer.

Zayne's hand boldly slips underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. With a flick of his wrist, he unhooks it, freeing your breasts from your bra. His large, warm hand cups the soft swell of your breast, his thumb and forefinger finding your hardened nipple and rolling it between them.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips, your back arching instinctively as pleasure courses through your body. Zayne's touch ignites a fire within you, his boldness and confidence in his actions making your head spin and your core throb with need.

Caleb takes advantage of your parted lips, his tongue delving deeper, stroking along the length of yours and exploring every inch of your mouth.

Zayne abruptly pulls you away from Caleb's passionate kiss, breaking the heated moment. Before you can react, he grips the hem of your shirt and swiftly pulls it up and over your head, leaving you bare from the waist up. Your bra shortly follows, discarded carelessly onto the floor.

Dazed and breathless, you find yourself suddenly laid down on the sofa, Zayne looming over you with a hungry expression. His gaze rakes over your exposed skin, taking in every curve and dip.

He places his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he applies pressure, silently commanding you to lift up. "Lift your hips," he demands. You hesitate, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face as you glance over at Caleb still sitting nearby, a witness to this unexpected turn of events.

A blush stains your cheeks as you realize the implications of going through with this, knowing Caleb will see every intimate detail. Slowly, hesitantly at first, you lift your hips off the sofa, allowing Zayne to peel your pants and panties down your legs in one smooth, swift motion.

Zayne's eyes never leave your body as he bares you completely, drinking in every inch of your skin. He tosses your clothes carelessly aside, leaving you laid out before him like a feast for the taking.

Zayne steps back and takes a seat across from you and Caleb, he turns to look at Caleb with a glint in his eye and he leans forward slightly.

"I have another dare for you, Caleb," Zayne says "I want you to eat her pussy until she cums, and I want to watch, just like you did that day months ago."

Zayne's words hang heavy in the air, a blatant reference to a moment you remember all too well. You can see the recollection flashing across Caleb's face, the memory of that charged encounter when you came undone under his lustful gaze.

Zayne turns to face you directly, his eyes blazing with intensity and a hint of mischief. A small, smug smile plays on his lips as he confirms your suspicions. "Yes, love, I saw him watching you that day, saw the way you came apart for him," he murmurs "That's why I worked you fast, to make you cum on my mouth, knowing he was there to witness it all."

His gaze drops briefly to your thighs before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "And now, I want to watch you come undone for him again, to see your beautiful face as you come all over his mouth" he says "But only if you want it, Y/N"

You turn to look at Caleb, your heart pounding as your eyes meet his. The intensity in his gaze makes your breath catch in your throat. Seeing the desire and anticipation etched on his face, you feel a thrill of excitement and a flutter of nervousness. Your lips part slightly as you whisper the words Zayne is waiting to hear:

"I want to..."

You watch as Caleb's gaze darts to Zayne, catching the subtle nod of silent approval. And then Caleb's hands are on your knees, his fingers curling around them. His eyes lock with yours as he applies gentle but firm pressure. "Open them for me," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

You slowly allow your knees to fall open, exposing your glistening soft folds to Caleb's hungry eyes. Zayne leans back, watching intently as the scene unfolds, his eyes dark with anticipation.

Caleb's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of your dripping cunt, now bare and vulnerable before him. A deep, approving groan escapes his lips. "Fuck," he breathes out "It's the most perfect pussy I've ever seen... and I can't wait to taste it."

Without giving you a moment to process the intensity of his words, Caleb removes his shirt, tossing it carelessly aside. Then, with a hunger that can't be sated, he leans down and presses his mouth to your bare sex.

You barely have time to gasp before you feel his strong hands gripping your thighs, pulling your legs up and over his broad shoulders. Your back arches off the couch as his tongue delves between your folds, stroking along your slit with confident intensity.

At the first swipe of Caleb's tongue along your folds, an appreciative moan rumbles from deep within his chest. The vibrations send delicious shivers through your core, making you gasp and clutch at his hair.

Zayne chuckles from his position across from you, his eyes glinting with amusement. He leans forward slightly, his gaze locked on Caleb's face, now buried between your thighs. "Fuck, Caleb, that pussy is the sweetest you'll ever taste," Zayne confirms, his voice filled with a hint of envy and admiration. "Enjoy every fucking second of it."

Caleb is too focused on the task at hand to respond to Zayne's comment, his hunger for you consuming his every thought. His mouth remains latched onto your sex, his tongue swirling and circling your sensitive clit with skilled, purposeful strokes.

As the pleasure mounts, you find yourself instinctively moving your hips, grinding against Caleb's eager mouth. Soft, breathy moans spill from your lips as he devours you, his tongue delving deeper, stroking along your slit and plunging into your entrance.

"She likes a finger or two in that tight little cunt, Caleb," he says, "Don't be shy, give her what she needs."

As if on cue, you feel Caleb slip two long, thick fingers into you. He pumps them slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to the sudden intrusion. But soon, he picks up the pace, fucking you with his fingers in tandem with the strokes of his tongue.

As your orgasm begins to crest, your body tensing and trembling with the impending release, you sense a presence kneeling beside you on the couch. You turn your head to the side, finding Zayne's intense gaze locked onto your face, his eyes blazing with a feral hunger.

Zayne's fingers grip your chin, tilting your head towards him as he leans in close. His eyes bore into yours, filled with possessive desire. "Open up," he commands and when you part your lips, Zayne's head dips down, and he spits a stream of saliva into your open mouth, the warm, slick fluid coating your tongue. At the same time, Caleb sucks your clit hard, his fingers pumping faster and deeper into your clenching walls.

The sensations are too much, and with a sharp cry you come undone. Your body convulses, back arching off the couch as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. You swallow Zayne's spit as your sex clenches and spasms around Caleb's fingers, your juices gushing out to coat his chin and hand.

As the final shocks of your orgasm subside, you feel Caleb's strong arms wrap around your trembling body. He lifts you effortlessly, cradling you against his broad chest as he sits back on the couch. Your naked, sated form is now nestled in his lap, your head resting against his shoulder.

Zayne adjusts his position beside you both, his large frame taking up the space next to Caleb, His hand is on your bare thigh, fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as he watches you catch your breath.

"That was incredible... you're breathtaking when you cum." Zayne leans in to whisper in your ear.

You turn your head towards Zayne, unable to resist, you capture his lips with your own, your mouth moving eagerly against his. Zayne responds with a hunger that steals your breath, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilts your head to deepen the kiss.

As his tongue dominates your mouth, claiming every inch of you, you feel his fingers inching higher up your thigh. They brush over your sensitive, slick folds, teasing your entrance as you tremble in Caleb's lap.

Zayne breaks the kiss, his lips trailing away from yours as he takes your hand, guiding it down to the rigid length of Caleb's cock straining against his jeans. "Can you feel how hard he is?" Zayne says "It's all for you, love. That's how fucking crazy you make him."

Caleb's breathing grows heavier with each passing second as your soft hands work to free his aching cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers. The moment your fingers wrap around his thick cock, his head falls back, a groan tearing from his throat.

Zayne takes in the sight of Caleb's length, now rock hard and pulsing in your gentle grip. He leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he murmurs, "Stroke him... yeah...just like that. Feel how hard he is, how much he wants you"

Suddenly Zayne grips your hips tightly, positioning you above Caleb's throbbing, hard cock. As your folds brush against the sensitive head, Caleb's eyes snap open, his gaze locking with yours. But it's too late to stop the inevitable.

"Wait," Caleb gasps, but his words are lost in a groan as he feels your wet pussy enveloping the tip of his cock. His hands fly to your waist, gripping tightly "Fuck, Y/N, wait..." he grits out, his jaw clenched and his eyes blazing with lust and a hint of panic.

Zayne ignores Caleb's plea, instead choosing to push your hips down. The head of Caleb's cock, already nestled between your folds, is driven deep inside your tight, clenching heat. A string of curses and a loud moan erupt from Caleb's throat "Shit! Fuck! Shit! Oh god y/n..." Caleb groans, his head falling back against the couch again as his hips twitch.

"She's fucking tight, isn't she? You'd better control yourself, or this is going to be over before it even starts. And trust me, I'm looking forward to watching you fuck her properly."

Zayne's words spark something inside you and you start to move, bouncing on top of Caleb's cock. Your hips rise up until just the tip remains inside you, before dropping back down, taking him as deep as you can. Caleb meets your downward bounces with his own upward thrusts.

Zayne watches as Caleb's cock disappears inch by inch into your dripping pussy, stretching you around his thick girth. He smirks, enjoying the show, his own arousal straining against his pants as he takes in the erotic sight.

" Fuck, Pipsqueak," Caleb grunts, his voice strained with pleasure as he hilts inside you, his pelvis flush against yours. His hands grip your hips hard enough to hold you in place, not wanting this moment to end. "You take my cock so fucking well, like you were made for it," he pants out, his hot breath mingling with yours as his mouth hovers inches from your own.

As Caleb's words wash over you, you hear a low moan coming from beside you. Turning your head, you find Zayne with his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself to the sight of you fucking his best friend.

Zayne's eyes are hooded, his gaze intense as he watches your hips rise and fall. He licks his lips, his breathing growing heavier as he pleasures himself, not taking his eyes off the scene unfolding before him.

Zayne's fingers grip your chin, holding your face in place as his piercing eyes look into yours. "Look at me, Y/N," he commands "I want to see your face, want to watch your expression when you cum on my best friend's cock. Keep your eyes on me, love."

Just as Zayne demands your focus, Caleb's teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of your nipple, the sharp sting mingles with the intense pleasure radiating from where you're joined, proving too much.

Your back arches, pressing your breast further into Caleb's eager mouth as your orgasm crashes over you. A scream tears from your throat, your walls clenching and fluttering wildly around Caleb's length. Zayne's fingers dig into your chin as he watches your face contort in bliss, your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open.

The way your walls clench and ripple around Caleb's throbbing cock is too much for him to endure. With a roar of your name, he hilts inside you, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he finds his release. "Y/N! Fuck, I'm cumming!" Caleb shouts, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

Zayne's hand pumps furiously over his straining erection, his eyes hazy with lust, remain locked in your face, taking in every detail of your pleasure and with a loud moan of your name, he reaches his own release, his hand pumping quickly as hot ropes of cum erupt from his cock.

Pearly ropes of cum land on your face and chest, his grip on your chin tightening momentarily before he releases you, his chest heaving with the force of his orgasm.

Caleb's hips continue to make shallow thrusts, working his softening cock deeper into your fluttering walls, as if trying to push his seed further into your core.

As the initial haze of lust and pleasure starts to fade, the gravity of what just transpired hits you like a ton of bricks. Panic rises in your throat, your heart racing as the realization of your actions sinks in. You try to pull away but Caleb's arms tighten around you, holding you close.

"It's okay," Caleb murmurs, his voice soothing as he feels your panic rising. "We've got you. You're okay." He strokes your hair, his hand cupping the back of your head and tilting it gently to rest against his shoulder. "Stay with us, princess. Don't run away, not now."

After a few minutes Zayne scoops you up effortlessly from Caleb's embrace, cradling you against his broad chest. He carries you towards the bathroom, his long strides eating up the distance. As he walks, he presses a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering on your skin.

"Let's clean you up while Caleb makes you something to eat," He pushes open the bathroom door, stepping inside the spacious, modern room. Turning on the shower, he adjusts the temperature of the water before setting you down on your feet, keeping a supportive hand on your waist.

He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "You don't have to be scared. We're here for you, now and always. Let us take care of you."

431 notes · View notes

mikkomacko · 3 months ago

Text

Him and I - 12

Darling You

Nico Hischier x reader, Mob Boss!Nico

Warnings: Snippy reader, panic attack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

____________________________________________

It may have been years since Nico’s made the trip to Switzerland, but it’s a hangover he’ll never forget. Body sore from being on a plane for six hours, hungry for real, nutritious food but sick from eating airline food, head aching from the roar of jet engines and the altitude changes. It’s just fucking exhausting.

He remembers the first time he made the trip with Timo, Jesper, and Jonas. They’d all spent a few days in the new apartment sleeping it off. And even when they finally got to work on getting the Devils up and running, they were dead on their feet for a while.

He thinks of that as he helps you out of the car, the garage door clanging and grinding as it shuts. Timo, like him, doesn’t look too bad as he moves to gather the carry-ons from the boot of the car. The other luggage can wait until tomorrow.

“I can stay here, yeah?”

Nico gives him an exasperated look, almost tipping over when you fall out of the car into his arms. You’ve got your feet under you, but your knees are lazily bent and from the way you’re worming into his ribs, Nico’s certain you’re not even carrying half your weight.

“Course you can.” You mumble to Timo, blinking blearily from under Nico’s arm. He laughs under his breath, moving you out of the way so he can close the car door and then he’s dragging you towards the house.

Fighting with the bags, Timo shoves his way into the house. It doesn’t take long for Nico to hear them thump to the floor, Timo obviously giving up on doing anything productive with them.

“Step baby,” Nico instructs you, and you begrudgingly wake yourself up enough to follow him up the couple stairs and into the door. He lets you slump against the wall while he closes and locks up the garage, the sounds of the other boys coming in the front door floating into the laundry room.

Hands under your arms, Nico walks you into the kitchen, dodging the abandoned luggage. “I’m so tired,” you say through a yawn, “why won’t my legs work?”

Timo snorts a laugh at you, leaning heavily on the counter with a bottle of water in his hands. It’s too early in the morning for Johnny to be up, but it only takes a few seconds for pattering paws to come down the staircase.

Suddenly revitalized, you spring to life in Nico’s arms, already shaking him off as you scramble for the bottom of the stairs.

“My baby!” You cry as Moose barrels down the steps, paws sliding on the tile floor and you wrap him up in your arms before he can fall forward. Huddled on your knees, you bury your face in the dog’s neck and pet at his ears, mumbling sweet words. “Oh I missed you so much, Moose.”

He licks at your face, tail wagging in a frenzy behind him and Nico’s heart stings with guilt. He should’ve let you take the stupid dog to Switzerland. They wouldn’t have needed to ask the boys to house-sit and you would’ve been far more comfortable with Moose there. Hell, the dog would’ve done what he was trained to do and saved you from fucking Lena.

Giving you another second to say hi, Nico finally makes his way to stand behind you. He lays a hand on Moose’s head, digging his fingers into the thick fur there and pulling just slightly.

He whistles and Moose shoots up straight like an arrow, looking up at Nico with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. You climb to your feet, petting his ears again and mumbling a quiet “good boy,” when Moose remains still, waiting for Nico to say something to him. Then you wonder off to the fridge, dragging your feet and Moose watching you with big puppy eyes and he shifts impatiently. Wanting to get to you but unable to without Nico’s command.

Taking pity in how overwhelmed the poor dog is, Nico crouches down in front of him. “Musli,” he says guiltily, petting at the side of the dog’s face and Moose leaps into Nico, tackling him to the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry we left you,” Nico apologizes through a laugh, Moose sniffing and licking at his face and neck. The dog is heavy on his chest, nails digging into Nico’s stomach uncomfortably but Nico simply wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly. “I know, I’ll never do it again.”

Like he’s speaking to him, Moose barks and yelps at Nico, his whole body vibrating with excitement to the point that Nico can’t even hold him still. He curls into himself on the cold tile, shielding his face and laughing as Moose darts between barking in his ear and nipping at his hair.

Moose doesn’t let up until the younger boys mosey into the kitchen, giving Nico a break as he runs over to smell their hands and feet with suspicion.

Panting, Nico groans as he climbs back to his feet. You help straighten out his shirt once he’s upright, dusting off his shoulders and chest before curling into his side, arms wrapped lazily around his waist.

“I’m going to bed,” Jack announces after he’s done petting Moose, stretching his arms over his head. He moves to the stairs, pausing at the bottom one and looking to Nico.

“Work tomorrow?”

For a moment Nico thinks about telling him to be in by 8 as usual, just to see what he’d say or do. But the kid did good work in Switzerland, was on guard 24 hours of the day and didn’t whine once so he gives him a break.

“Nah catch up on your sleep tomorrow,” Nico waves him off, then gestures to the other boys too. “All of you. Come back in when you feel up to shape, yeah?”

It’s like watching them run down the stairs on Christmas morning, Jack whipping around with wide eyes to stare at Luke, Mercer, and Holtz. They all exchange similar looks of excitement, acting like Nico is come cruel and usual boss, and Nico rolls his eyes.

They all take off up the stairs, a renewed energy in them now that they know they can sleep in tomorrow and Nico has a feeling they’re all already planning on squishing into Alex’s room to stay up and play video games.

“Don’t know what room Johnny is in,” you mumble, wincing. “I hope they don’t wake him.”

Nico shrugs, pressing his fingers into the small of your back. “If the dog didn’t wake him I doubt they will.”

Moose trots over to rub against your legs, pushing his butt up when you start scratching by his tail.

“Some house sitter you got there.” Timo snorts, rubbing at his eyes. “Do I get the dog or are you hoarding him now?”

Peering up at Nico for an answer, you bat your eyelashes at him, pleadingly. You’re cute, pressed into his chest with your puppy dog eyes, sleep still evident in every corner of your features. Any other night and he’d relent, even if it meant him sleeping terribly because Moose loves to lay on his feet.

But he’s exhausted and you’re exhausted, and he’s got ideas that don’t involve the dog sitting at the bottom of the bed.

“Aww,” Nico pouts, running his fingers through your hair and your lips begin to perk up, thinking he’s going to agree. “No, he sleeps with Timo.”

“What? Nico!”

Smirking, he pecks a placating kiss to your lips while Timo laughs, giddily. Moose, recognizing Timo’s excitement gallops over to his uncle T, circling his legs a few times.

“You and me bud,” Timo tells him, scratching at the top of his head. Nico did send Moose with him because he wants alone time with you, but now watching his friend fawn over having a cuddling buddy, he thinks it’s probably for the best for Timo too. The guy is good at being chill and happy, easy-go-lucky Timo but Nico knows he’s upset. That underneath the sleep ridden eyes and lazy smile, he’s thinking of Amelia and how yet again he’s had to make the trip back to Jersey without her.

“Go say goodnight,” Nico tells you, nudging you towards Timo. You sigh through your nose, dragging your feet over and he watches with amusement as you dramatically crouch down and wrap your arms around Moose. He can’t hear what you mumble into the dog’s ear but Timo can if the short laugh he lets out is anything to go by. You then wrap yourself around Timo, muttering a goodnight and “please snuggle my baby for me” with sad eyes pointed at Nico.

“I will, I promise.” Timo assures, sharing an amused look with Nico. Then he’s kissing the top of your head and sending you back to Nico, cutting across the kitchen to head for the downstairs bedroom. Moose pads after him happily, tail wagging ever so slightly as they go.

Petulant, you accept Nico’s outstretched hand, letting him tug you into his chest. He wraps you up tightly, squeezing his biceps around your shoulders until you make a choking noise of complaint.

“Hey,” he murmurs, squeezing your side. “Don’t make Timo sleep alone tonight. He just had to say goodbye to Amelia…again.”

“He could come sleep with us too.”

Nico scoffs. “No, I had my years of sharing a bed with Timo.”

You sigh, dramatic as ever. “Ok.”

Taking that as an agreement, Nico walks you towards the living room, wanting to double check that the boys locked the front door and to set the alarm. You follow him easily, sleep catching up to you again and all he has to do is keep you from running into walls as you navigate the dark house.

He turns the deadbolt at the front door, punches in the code for the alarm system and now just has to get you upstairs, out of your traveling clothes and preferably into nothing else.

You get to the base of stairs, shoes hitting the bottom step with a low thump, and then you’re looking up at him, eyes half closed.

“Carry me?”

“I think you can make it,” he says, just to make you even more whiny.

“You gave away my dog. The least you could do is carry me.”

Shaking his head in laughter, Nico scoops you up into his arms, wincing when your foot bangs into the wall. You don’t seem to care though, smiling contently and curling into him with a little sigh.

Nico’s tired and his muscles complain the whole way up, but all he can think about is how he’ll get to do this for the rest of his life with you.

~~~~

Nico wonders how long it’s physically possible for two people to stay in bed.

He remembers practically living under the sheets with you after Philly. It was like you were always hiding from something, shielding yourself behind him and the oversized duvet on his bed. It wasn’t hard for you either, to stay there. You didn’t get stir crazy, didn’t have to force yourself to stay tucked into his side in the mornings.

You craved it almost.

It’s almost funny how similar the past couple days have been to that time. Different circumstances of course. You and him aren’t hiding from anything, you’re preserving it. The bubble you didn’t get to enjoy in Switzerland. Between his father and Lena, there was never no chance to bask in the engagement like he’d originally planned. Even after he officially asked you, there was always something. A house full of boys demanding your attention and time, his siblings trying to repair bonds that had been broken before Nico even hit puberty, and pushing Timo into chasing love.

Now though, the house has gone empty. The boys returned to the loft, Johnny went back to work, and after a full nights rest you came to your senses about Timo’s aching heart and let him take Moose for as many days as he needs.

And Moose gets his own little vacation across town, gets to live it up at the bachelor pad with Timo. A treat for him to make up for the trip you and Nico went on without him.

“I love our home,” you whisper so as to not disturb the mid-morning stillness. Nico can’t see your face but he can imaging the peaceful look on it, the sun filtering in through the currents bathing you in glowing light.

He pecks a kiss to your bare shoulder, flexing the arm he has thrown over your waist. “Me too,” he agrees, but the longer he thinks about it, the more he realizes this morning feels the same as the mornings in Switzerland.

Home was never the house, it’s you.

“I love my ring,” you say, the hint of a smile in your words as you fiddle with the silver band. Nico hasn’t seen you take it off since you got it, and even though it’s probably not smart to sleep with it on, he can’t bring himself to tell you.

He shifts forward, pressing another kiss to the curve where your shoulder meets your neck. “Me too,” he agrees, yet again, wondering where you’re going next with this. How long the two of you can lay here and name the things you love.

You hum at the feeling of his mouth, arching back into a beautiful stretch that elongates your neck and curves your hips towards him. All warm and soft and inviting.

“And I love you,” you preen, left hand slipping under the blankets to grab at his bare thigh. Almost encouragingly you pull at his leg, hiking it over your hip.

“I love you darling.” He says into the base of your jaw, goosebumps rising on his skin as your fingers play with the hair on his leg. Kissing at the corner of your mouth, Nico pushes himself up, your body falling back in the warm alcove he’d previously been occupying. “So much,” he says, settling between your parted thighs.

“Darling,” you hum, looking so beautiful with your hair fanned out across his pillow, the sun dancing on your bare skin, glinting off the necklace lying between your naked breasts. “I like that one.”

Nico leans in, kissing down the column of your throat, following the line of the gold chain. You cup the back of his neck, thumb mindlessly stroking back and forth. “Yeah?” he asks, kissing chastely at the underside of each breast, where you’re the fullest and your skin the hottest.

“Like all the names you give me,” you continue, fingers sliding across his skin to cup his face, drawing him back up to your face.

Your cheeks are flush and full of life, your eyes more content and happy than he’s seen them in weeks. He nudges your nose with his. “Giving you the most important one.”

A girlish giggle bubbles out of you, warm against his lips and his heart throbs in his chest. He never in a million years thought this is where New Jersey would get him. He ran away from his family, from his home, from everything he’d ever known. He expected to just be here, just him and his work, practicing isolationism probably.

Instead he found the one person in the world to ever love him, unconditionally and unselfishly.

“Kuss?” You request, tilting your head to give him a better angle and Nico happy obliges. His lips find yours for a slow and sweet kiss, your legs coming up to wrap around his hips.

Your hands tangle in his hair, threading through his knotted bed head. Nico, half-hard since you pulled that move of stretching back into him, shifts more of his weight on to you.

“Are we ever going to get out of bed?” You ask after tugging on his hair, him groaning delightedly at the way it sends tingles through his scalp.

He kisses you again. “No,” his smile touches your lips, sweet and tender. “S’our honeymoon. We get to do what we want.”

Your eyes light up with laughter, big and shiny and beautiful as you look up at him. Afraid his heart is going to beat right out of his chest if he keeps looking at you, Nico ducks down to mouth at your neck.

“I think you’re jumping the gun there,” you say with mirth, and Nico nips at you in retaliation, subtly grinding his cock against the soft pudge of your stomach.

“Engagement honeymoon,” he reasons, breath hitching when you press up into him, encouragingly, “And I want to celebrate by fucking in the bed we’ll be fucking in for the rest of our lives.”

You laugh, your body curling into him until you’re wrapped around him like a vice. “Oh how romantic Neeky,” you say dreamily, and he smiles at the nickname.

Tugging him back up to your lips for a chaste kiss, you cup his jaw. Unknowingly he bites at his bottom lip and you pull at it with your thumb until he lets up, releasing the full force of his boyish smile. “I don’t think we’re supposed to have the same mattresses for that long.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, “and how long will that be?”

You purse your lips, humming as you contemplate. “100 years.”

Your thumb traces his bottom lip, fingertip soft and tender, and he moves to press a kiss to the pad of it. “Not long enough,” he whispers, and then because there’s not much else to say, you draw him in for another kiss.

Nico lets you have control of it, holding his face and teasingly licking into his mouth. Tracing his hand down the curve of your side, skin so soft and warm, he takes ahold of his now fully hard cock. Tilting his hips, Nico lines himself up at your entrance, humming in satisfaction when he feels how wet you already are.

“Can I have you, baby?” He mumbles into the kiss, and you nip at his bottom lip in agreement.

“You already do.” It’s just a breath against his face, warm and sticky, and it leaves him aching for more. He captures your lips with his again, guiding his cock through your folds and pressing in when the head catches on your hole.

Your lips part from his, just enough to whimper beautifully against the plushness of his mouth. Nico holds the side of your thigh, hitching it higher up his hip and you go with, pliantly accommodating the extra space he’s demanding between your thighs.

You do so effortlessly, like it’s nothing to make room for him, to accept him. Like after all this time he’s an extension of you.

Nico fucks you slow and filthy, bodies sweat-slicked and hot from being pressed so close together. He kisses you messily, like your lips are his last meal on death row, unrelenting even when you’re panting for air against his desperate kisses. You cling to him, left hand finding his and locking your fingers together above your head, so tightly his knuckles grow white and ache.

The whole time, the band of your ring, now warm against his skin, reminding him that he does in fact already have you, and you have him.

~~~~

Nico’s barely slid into the backseat of the car, slamming the door shut against the biting wind outside before he’s letting out an affronted scoff. In the two seconds it took him to peek at you through the crack between the front seat and door, he knows you’re not even remotely dressed warm enough.

Leaning his elbow onto the center console, he looks you up and down with judgmental eyes.

“Where the fuck is your coat?”

Timo chuckles, shifting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb without even waiting for Nico to buckle up. Mockingly, you turn to him with your jaw dropped.

“Where the fuck is your seatbelt?”

Unamused, he huffs and settles into the backseat. Ignoring your giggling, he buckles but not even two seconds later he’s kicking the back of your seat.

“It’s -1 outside and slushy, where is your coat?”

Immediately he knows he’s messed up, catching the teasing look on your face as you glance the dash where it’s glaringly obvious displaying that it’s 30 degrees right now.

“Wrong side of the pond there, Neeky.” You say, in that tone you always use to annoy him and push at his buttons. It’s never in a truly mean way but a part of him wonders if you’re sharp tongue is back because today was his first day back at work since you’ve returned.

You were just as taunting with him after he returned to work post Philly incident. Sure he’d been attached your hip for a much longer time period than the trip to Switzerland so he expected some bite from you, but this is feeling just as bratty.

Nico decides he’s not even going to try to entertain you, too upset with the fact that it’s freezing temperatures outside and the light rain from earlier is slowly turning to snow. Meanwhile you’re dressed in a white sweater from his side of the closet and a skirt.

“I’m not asking you again.” He gruffs, arms crossed over his chest and you sigh. Then, as if it’s the most perfect excuse in the world, you run your hands over the sheer black fabric on your thighs.

“I wore fleece lined tights.”

Nico huffs in disbelief, knowing there’s no way in hell you actually thought that’d be warm enough except that you do. He can already hear the excuses in his head, the same one you give him every time you want it to snow.

If you dress like it’s not going to be a blizzard, it will in fact be a blizzard. It’s your own form of washing the car just to make it rain the next day. Somehow it always works too.

He doesn’t say anything, settling back into his seat and staring out the windshield as Timo navigates through Newark. Nico has no idea where this new restaurant you were dying to try out is, and he’s about to ask Timo how far away it is but you’re slipping your left hand over the console, wiggling your fingers at him.

The diamond ring on your finger twinkles prettily, reaching for him and he rests his hand on his knee, lacing his fingers through yours and all thoughts of lunch leave his mind. Soothingly, he traces the band of your ring with his thumb, admiring how perfectly your hand looks in his, feels in his.

“Wait where are we going?” You ask and Nico looks up, not sure what direction Timo is supposed to be going in.

“I gotta stop at the loft real quick.” He explains and you pout, slumping in your seat a bit. Stroking his thumb over the back of your hand, Nico and you sit silently the rest of the ride, Timo humming along to his playlist until he’s pulled up to the curb.

“Why wouldn’t you park in the garage?” You ask, a bit snotty and he has to bite back a laugh. Timo should’ve known this unannounced detour would make you crabby, no doubt annoyed at having to wait longer for food you’ve been craving.

“Because we’re just running in real quick.” Timo sasses back, staring at you challengingly as he takes the keys out of the ignition.

“We?” You scoff, “I don’t have a jacket. I’m not getting out.”

As if proving your point, you take your hand back from Nico and cross your arms over your chest, staring out the front windshield like you’ve got all the time and patience in the world.

“Bro,” Timo sighs, looking to Nico with pleading eyes. He doesn’t particularly want to take his friend’s side over yours but it’s looking like this whole thing will go a lot quicker if you just get out of the car. And the quicker this is, the sooner they can get some food in you.

Nico huffs, unbuckling and sliding forward until he can peer around the seat at you. Encouragingly, he wraps his fingers around your bicep and squeezes. “Come on baby, it’ll be quick and I’ll give you my coat.”

Petulantly, you undo your seatbelt and climb out of the car, shutting the door on both of them. Nico sighs, shooting Timo a glare as he reaches for his door handle. “Gee thanks for pissing her off, T.”

“Me?” He squeaks, “you did this! She’s been a monster all day because she misses you.”

Nico can’t help but smile, endeared by the fact that you ache for him so much when he’s gone you turn into a little demon. Maybe he shouldn’t be basking in joy that you’ve been making Timo’s day hell, but it’s sweet how much you want to be around Nico all the time. He’s missed you today too.

Slipping out of the car and knocking it shut with his hip, Nico peels off his warm wool coat, and finds you shivering on the sidewalk, arms hugging your body. You’re still glaring at Timo, but when Nico steps up beside you and wraps his coat over your shoulders, you blink up at him with that pretty Bambi look in your eyes.

Putting your arms into the sleeves, he button the top loop for you, huddling you under his arm. And then just because he missed you and because he can, Nico kisses the top of your snow spackled hair, not caring how cold it is against his lips.

“Hurry up you big babies!” Timo grumbles over his shoulder, rushing towards the front door of the building. He begins impatiently hitting the button for the top loft apartment, insistent buzzing filling the air.

Following after him, you and Nico step up to the door and you wait until you’re in earshot of Timo to mock his words in a high-pitch mumble. Luckily the door clicks open before Timo can say anything else, and Nico yanks it open to usher you inside.

The ride up to the top floor is tension filled. Timo pointedly ignoring you, eyes practically stuck on the ceiling of the elevator as you watch his every move through a squinted glare. And yet Nico is painfully biting at the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too much, throughly entertained and surprised by how petty and childish you can be when hungry and upset.

He’d forgotten that despite your achingly sweet personality, you can get even meaner than Nico under the right circumstance.

The elevator opens and Nico guides you down the hall with a hand on your neck, nudging Timo with his elbow when his friend falls in by his side. He' trying to tell him to lighten up, that you're literally just hungry and while regressing to a five year old when you haven't eaten isn't the most attractive characteristic of yours, it's not that big a deal.

Except Timo is just as touchy as you right now, probably still dealing with the heartache of his long distance girlfriend and Moose was no longer at Timo's for sleepovers. The guy is just a little lonely, Nico thinks.

It's a tough situation for him to be in the middle of.

"After you," Timo sighs with faux politeness, motioning to the front door of the loft. Crossing your arms, you look Timo up and down, popping your hip out patiently and again Nico is fighting back laughter. It's not often he sees you and Timo like this, but it is hilarious.

"It's your errand, you go first."

If this were one of those old cartoons with the cat and mouse, steam would be rolling out of Timo's ears. As much Nico wants this to go on, wants to see if you and Timo will go as far as swatting each other, it's better if this just rolls on so he can get some food in you.

"Alright, relax," he says, ducking around you to open the door. He's barely turned the knob, walking in backwards and dragging you with him by the hand when Timo sticks his foot out to make you stumble. Nico's steady hand keeps you from falling but it does nothing to stop you from shaking the sleeve of Nico's coat over your free hand, whipping the sewed edge of it at Timo's arm and chest.

"Ow!" Timo complains, swatting at your hand "Nico your wife is being a child!"

Harshly, you shove him into the edging of the door. "Nico your best friend is being a little bitch." You mock, sticking your tongue out at him.

Finally, he breaks, cackling in amusement as Timo bullies his way into the loft and kicks the door shut behind him. He stands over you, eyes narrowed in irritation, but you simply glare back up at him, sleeves hanging over your hands, and even drowning in his coat you seem more menacing than Timo.

"For the love of god there has to be snacks here," Nico mumbles, taking ahold of your elbow and dragging you down the entryway. Huffing, you pliantly follow after him, Timo's heavy footfall trailing behind you.

Nico's just rounded the entryway into the the living room/kitchen when he notices the large white and gold balloons framing the walk way. Before he can ask though, you're all coming face to face with every Devs member, girlfriends and wives included.

"Surprise!" They shout, Jack's screech louder than everyone else and Nico thinks no one should be able to sound that shrill when wearing a button up and tie.

The place is decorated to T. White and classy, elegant tablecloths on what looks like catered Italian food filled tables. The furniture has been swiped out for tall, round tables, all centered with white flower arrangements and candles in the center. Hanging from the ceiling above the balcony doors is a banner, beautiful calligraphy writing out Nico and Y/n Forever in black with gold detailing.

He smiles, looking over to find that the fight has drained out of you, instead replaced with a look of awe. You're eyes are wide and glossy, that most perfect smile of your stretched across your cheeks and you laugh emotionally.

"Yeah surprise," Timo says dully, peeking over your shoulder before ducking around to join the party. You roll your eyes, shoving him as he goes but you're still smiling so Nico doesn't worry too much.

"Are you gonna hug us or what?” Jack demands, barreling forward and wrapping his long arms around you. You squeeze him back, giggling and thanking him.

“I just let you guys use my place,” he says, then looks to Nico with an innocent gleam in his eyes, arms spread wide.

“My place, technically.” Nico corrects, but he accepts the hug from the elder Hughes boy. He’s quickly followed by Luke who you happily wrap up in a hug.

“Yeah well anyway,” Jack continues, “Nicole and Nola pretty much did it all. With permission of Jesp and Jonas of course but yeah the girls are better planners.”

Caught entirely off guard, you look to Nico with wide eyes. Like the idea of the girls doing something nice for you is so foreign, so unknown to you. Maybe you’re expecting to hear that Nico had a part in it, but he didn’t.

The surprise was as much his as yours, though probably not as personally as it seems to be touching you.

You go oddly quiet after that, letting Luke take the coat from your shoulders to put in Alex’s room, looking Nico over in disapproval. “No coat? Come on man, it’s snowing out there.”

Nico doesn’t even bother defending himself. The two of you bounce around the room greeting everyone and thanking them, letting them look at your ring for nothing longer than a moment and it’s cute, how protective you are over it. Cute until Nico thinks that maybe you’re guarding it, hiding your hand in the crook of his elbow so that they can’t take it, or even imply it shouldn’t be on your hand.

Like you’re worried someone here will say you don’t deserve it.

He can’t help it after that, watching you far too closely. His hello’s and thank you’s come off as dismissive, his attention on you and how you slowly keep shrinking even further into his side.

Even when Jesper and Jonas approach, the girls flanking them, you don’t melt into your usually bubbly personality, don’t offer big hugs like you did Alex and Luke and the younger boys. An awkward side hug with the girls and a wave to the boys, lips in a tight smile as you thank them. It sounds genuine, even if you appear as if you’d rather be anywhere but here right now.

Nico doesn’t even know what to do, what went so wrong that as greetings went on you felt more and more unwelcome.

“How was Switzerland?” Jonas asks you, eagerly “Did you like it?”

Heart dropping in his chest, Nico runs a hand his face. Unbelievable, of all things to ask at a time where you look like you’re walking on eggshells.

“It was beautiful,” you respond, a genuine smiling pulling at your lips, a bit strained but it’s something. You don’t say anything else about it, gaze shifting from Jonas to the table food behind him and Nico thinks that maybe you’re just hungry still.

“I’m starving,” Nico complains, patting at his stomach for dramatic effect. Then, as warning to drop the subject of Switzerland and to give you an out he adds, “And I’ll lose my appetite if I have to talk about my family again so we’re gonna go get plates.”

“Yeah of course!” Nola jumps in, waving you towards the food with a friendly smile. “John was on catering duty, said only the best pasta for his amanti.”

You snort at the nickname, clearing your throat to hide the little snicker. “Thank you guys again. This is all really sweet.”

Offering another little smile, you look up at Nico expectantly and he doesn’t waste a second before leading you towards the catering, your arm wrapped tightly around his.

Luke, with an already dirty plate in hand, is plopping more spoonfuls of Alfredo onto his plate, sandwiching it between two pieces of garlic bread. He looks up when you approach, pointing the serving spoon down towards the dish.

“This shit is so good,” he practically moans, setting the spoon down and placing his other piece of bread on top until a towering pasta sandwich takes up the plate.

You gape at him, blinking a few times in awe before shaking your head. “You might be a genius Lukey,” you breath and then your wiggling out Nico’s hold to get you and him a plate, not sparing him a second glance as you shove his plate into his hands and go about serving.

Luke follows you dutifully, leaning over your shoulder and offering mumbled pointers as you serve your own arrangement of pasta and bread. Deciding that you’re comfortable enough for the moment, Nico starts serving his own pesto, realizing that John has picked your favorite Italian restaurant. You don’t eat there very often, at least not inside, but you always order delivery or takeout. It was a place you used to eat at with your parents when you were a child, but ever since falling out with them, you don’t go inside.

Nico’s not sure if you’re more afraid of seeing them in there or not seeing them in there. Of realizing that they’ve got a whole different life now, one that doesn’t include the place you all shared.

“Thank god she’s eating,” Timo suddenly says, appearing by Nico’s side and picking up his own plate. In tandem, the two of them switch off serving from the numerous different platters.

“Yeah she’s not in the best mood,” Nico agrees, quietly. “She’s not a big of surprises either though so you might’ve pissed her off even more.”

Timo’s mouth falls open. “What? Are you serious? She’s more mad?”

Nico shrugs. You’re not mad exactly, more annoyed maybe but even that doesn’t describe it entirely. You just look…uncomfortable and defensive.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” he finally explains, glancing down the table to where you and Luke are digging through the garlic bread for the biggest piece. “I’m hoping she’ll talk to me after she eats.”

“Weird,” Timo hums, thoughtfully. They sit in brief moment of silence before Timo looks around as if realizing something.

“Do you think it’s everybody?” He asks, hushed. “I mean she’s close with the stooges that live here and Johnny but everyone else…”

“Not so much,” Nico adds, a lightbulb going off in his head. Technically they’re his friends, at least in your eye they are. You’re putting up walls because you feel like the odd one out, surrounded by people that have been in Nico’s life for years but barely scratched the surface in yours.

You’ve always had a hard time letting people in for real, letting them see more than just the surface. You’d been taught from a young age how to present yourself, what others should see and Nico has seen first hand what that upbringing has done to hurt you.

Sighing softly, Nico shares a knowing look with Timo before they follow you down the line of the table, grabbing their last few items before crowding around the round table you followed Luke too.

Nico takes the seat next to you, left hand finding your thigh in what he hopes in a comforting presence. You glance at him, smiling softly in thanks before turning to Timo on the other side of the table.

“A quick errand huh?” You tease, “you’re lucky I didn’t hit you harder for this.”

Timo scoffs, a smile playing at his lips. “I should’ve hit you harder for calling me a bitch.”

Pleased with yourself, you giggle, all beautiful and bubbly, twirling your fork in your pasta. Jack, lazily picking at the label of a beer bottle, snorts.

"The whole place heard that, by the way-" he must kick Timo under the table because he flinches, glaring over at Jack "you little bitch."

Suddenly offended, you scoff and jostle Nico's hand as you kick Jack in this shin even harder than he kicked Timo. "Hey, only I get to call him that!"

The meal seems to ease you. You've still got a little bite to your attitude, snarky comments directed at almost all the boys and then you slink back into Nico's arm, batting your eyelashes at him when the boys whine. He knows the game, knows exactly what you're doing. Lucky for you, Nico has always been down to play your games, knows that he'll always end up on the receiving end if he aids you, so he keeps quite and broody, silencing the boys with a look when they start to bitch at him.

What can Nico say except happy wife, happy life, right?

And you are happy, at least you look like you’re trying to be happy but eventually the food is cleared away and Jack is setting up his switch for everyone to take turns playing Just Dance and Nico can see the moment you look around and panic.

No one has volunteered to go first yet, no one fighting over spots but he’s certain Nola and Jonas are about to spin around and pin first game to you and Nico. You must know it too because you’re slow to move from the table, cautious eyes watching everyone else get up and for a second, it’s like you’ve forgotten Nico is even there. Sly, like you’re going to follow behind Timo to the dance area, you get up from the table and Nico follows suite, prepared to follow whatever path you feel like taking today.

Except you pause, hanging back behind everyone and then you’re moving for the hallway to the bedrooms, quick like you’re trying to make a getaway. You only get a couple steps before freezing, turning around with wide and glossy eyes to meet his confused gaze.

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

Wordlessly, you hold your hand out to him and he takes it, letting you lead him down the hall and into Alex's room. You drop his hand and he locks the door, turning to you at the choked sound of your breathing.

It's been awhile but he knows that sound. Remembers listening for it every time the sound of glass clinking or shattering filled the air. Remembers waking up to it in the middle of the night, listening to you gasp and wheezy against his neck while he held you, begging you to focus on him, to follow his lead.

"Baby," he calls, carefully and softly. He should've known this would happen, should've known that it was adrenaline keeping you going in Switzerland, that as soon as you were home with no distraction it would all hit. You were hurt, badly, twice by his family and he should've done something. He should've been told about this party, given a warning so that he could tell Timo no, that you're not ready to be in this environment.

But he was too caught up in everything, blinded by the rose tinted glasses, by the engagement honeymoon with you.

"M'fine," you say, but you're holding a hand over your heart, choking in shallow breathes, and he's knows you're not fine.

Nico does what he knows best. He gathers you up in his arms, a hand on the back of your neck and you bury your nose in his shoulder, rigid and trembling as he squeezes you as tightly as he can.

“I’m ok, really.” You mumble into his shirt, and he nods. You’re ok, here with him. He knows you’re ok, because you’re always ok with him. Even when you’re panicking like this, when your fear of something has clawed its way into your lungs and is suffocating, he knows you’ll be ok.

But he likes to hold you through it, to hold you steady, to be there to fight for you if you need him to.

He waits until your breathing has leveled, the muscles of your back and neck relaxing under his hands.

“Please talk to me baby,” he begs, resting his chin on top of your head. “What happened? I mean, you haven’t had a panic attack since-“

“Switzerland,” you cut him off, meekly. “I had one in Switzerland.”

Nico hesitates. You had one in Switzerland? He hadn't been told, hadn't been there for that. It couldn't have been when he was sleeping, because he always wakes up when you do, has ever since Philly. So when was it? Why did you hide it from him?

"When?" He asks, and then he suddenly has the devasting thought that maybe it was that night he left you in the hospital by yourself, hoping you'd simply sleep through all the bad things.

"At the party," you whisper, "when I said I went out for fresh air it."

You were lying, in a way. Maybe you were going for fresh air, hoping it would curb the attack, or maybe you were running from the party to fight through it alone. Either way, it happened right under his nose and not only did he miss that, it lead to Lena getting her hands on you.

This is even worse than him originally thinking it happened in the hospital. At least then he was doing something productive, not just distracted by poker and beer, and at least in the hospital you would've had doctors and nurses and Nina.

Nico hides his face in your hair, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to find off the wave of guilt making his head spin.

"What happened?" He begs, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was too hard," you respond, not much of an answer but he doesn't have to prod anymore, because here, in his arms, you let the words pour out of your mouth freely. Things you've been holding in for weeks. Things that he missed.

"I couldn't make friends with those girls Nico, even when I tried. I didn't get their jokes and I don't get Swiss German and I was nobody to them. I just-freaked out I guess. All of sudden everything was too much.

"I was being watched and didn't know by who, and I was so mad at you but I couldn't say it and you were mad at me too, and I just didn't know anything."

Stupid, Nico thinks, he's so fucking stupid. For this whole thing, this whole trip. He should've just mailed the ring to the states and proposed to you here, somewhere safe. Instead he tried to play the whole boy-next-door bit, taking you to his childhood home to meet his family and his friends, to try and be the carefree and social teenager he used to be. Stupidly, he thought maybe you'd see that his life at least had some love in it, that he's capable of loving you forever.

He should've known that after everything he did, he can't be his old self in his old home ever again. All he did was let you get hurt.

"I tried to look at you, to look for you but then I couldn't breathe and I was just running. It wasn't until I was outside that I realized what I did but then-"

"I know," Nico interjects, not wanting to here this again. He'd heard it one too many times already, saw the footage one too many times already.

The room goes still. You wrap your arms around his waist, step further into his chest until your clinging to him like a lifeline. He holds you like he's trying to hold every little piece together.

"Why is it so hard?" You whisper after a moment, sounding so small. "Making friends? Why can't I just talk to them? Even Nola and Nicole, I don't-"

You don't finish the sentence. You don't have too. Nico already understands. All this time it's been you and him, you and Timo. He cushioned you after your friends and family rejected you, surrounded you with him and Timo and the boys he knew loved you because he never wanted you to feel out of place again. But he also made it harder for you to step away, to let more people into your life. There was no room, no need for anyone else because he was trying to be everything for you.

He can't speak. His throat has gotten choked up with every stupid little mistake he made that got you to this point. It like a huge snowball, building up and up until it turned into an avalanche pouring down on you. And at the center of it all is him being the one that took you away from your family, that divided you and your friends.

"You're my best friend Nico," you say, certain and proud, tone stronger than before. "You have been for a long time."

He can feel your smile against his neck, the way you squeeze him just a little tighter and it rattles something lose in his throat, gives him enough space to speak. "You're my best friend too."

It's different than with Timo and the boys. Obviously Timo is his best friend too, has been since they were kids and Timo moved into his neighborhood. And he'd still say Timo is his best friend, just as you consider him.

But his friendship is different with you. He doesn't even know how to explain it. You know him so deeply, inside and out, and have always loved everything about him. He doesn't really believe in soulmates, never saw any evidence in the world of two people belonging so wholly to each other, but you might be his. How else would the universe explain how he feels about you?

Because best friends doesn't feel like enough even if it's true. And girlfriend doesn't either, so he made you his fiancée, yet that's not enough either, so he'll make you his wife. Somehow he knows that won't encompass everything the way it should either.

Your his soulmate.

"Maybe I was just meant to have you," you say thoughtfully, "like the world used up all my friendships in you."

It's a somewhat sad thought, even if it's sweet.

"I think what we have is something else entirely," Nico tells you, "And I think sometimes it's just hard to find real friends, especially with the life we have."

"What if it's just me? What if I'm unlikeable?"

Nico almost laughs at the ridiculousness of it all. You and unlikeable shouldn't even be in the same sentence. He's never seen anyone dislike you. Even your shitty college friends. They liked you so much they hated him. It's always been obvious that they weren't exactly concerned for your safety running around with him and the mob. Even if that was the excuse. No, they were upset because he was sending private drivers and cars to pick you up whenever you asked, reserving you VIP spots at clubs and bars in Jersey, letting you bring them along even if his boys never showed an interest in any of them

The problem was never you.

"It's not you baby," he swears, "Everyone loves you, especially the boys. Look at how they tripped over themselves to get to you first today. How they dropped everything and went to Switzerland for you, no questions asked."

You make an unconvinced noise. “They’re loyal to me because you told them to be.”

He shakes his head, wondering how you can be so smart but so oblivious at the same time. “Mercer is for sure on your side. He bit my head off in Switzerland for letting you get hurt.”

“He only went with me to get rid of Rino because you told him to pick me." You insist, "And yeah Timo is my friend but he was really yours first.”

Nico doesn't even know what else to say. It's like he's holding a bright neon sign in front of your fac but you won't open your eyes. Baby…”

“Remember when Jack said I only have friends you pay to hang around me?" You ask and Nico scowls. Yes, he does remember that. And he remembers giving Jack the worst shifts and jobs for a whole week after that, because even if it was a joke made during a stupid TikTok, it was too far. "Maybe he was right and that’s fine because it hurts less to have to have to pay for my friends than have them just never choose me.”

You say it so casually, so innocently. Like it's the only right answer, the only thing you fully believe. You've actually accepted this crazy idea that you don't deserve friends. Nico wishes he could track down every painfully moment that led you to thinking that and wipe it from existence.

Instead, he focuses on what he knows he can prove to you, on the things happening right in front of you.

"The girls are choosing you," he says, gently because the last thing he wants to do is scare you away, to make you shut down by insisting you're wrong. "They threw his whole party for you-"

"For us."

"For us," he amends, "but it's still for you too. They're trying to be your friend. I think they just don’t know how.”

You hum, unimpressed. "What do you mean?"

"It's different for you in the Devs, they know that. They know you have to be more careful, have to not be so trusting and I think they don't really know how to get around that."

He's caught your attention with that one, can tell by the way you start to mindlessly fiddle with the hem of his sweater behind his back, thinking. “I don’t know how to either Nico. The only person I’ve ever won over is you.”

Oh, you're so sweet and beautiful and dumb sometimes, Nico thinks lovingly. You didn't win him over because there was never any competition. From the very second he saw you at the Rock, when that perfect smile of yours caught his eye, that was it. He couldn't even put up a fight.

He moves to peer down at you, warmth alighting his chest when you rest your chin on him, look up at him with curious and vulnerable eyes.

“You somehow got Katja to be a mother so you’re a lot more impressionable than you think.” He assures. You get that flustered look on your face, cheeks tinging red and he can't help but trace the little splotches with his thumb.

"I know people sold you short your whole life baby, but you shouldn't. We all love you here, all want you here. It's just hard for everyone to know how to get you to open up. After everything with Philly and then me basically hiding you away, they're just afraid of doing something wrong."

"Probably more scared of you then me." You mutter, a teasing glint in your eye. Nico eases up, muscles relaxing at your playfulness.

"Maybe," he agrees, tucking your hair behind your ear so he can peck a kiss to your cheekbone. "You going to be ok?"

You nod.

"Are we still giving Timo a hard time?"

You hum, thinking and he laughs. "No I guess not, but I'm not saying sorry either."

"You don't have to." He assures, "you weren't mean, just teasing."

Knowing he's lying you giggle, rising to your toes and catching his lips in a kiss. Nico lets you have a few minutes of just kisses and giggles, easing you as much as possible before going back out to the party.

You rejoin the party and if anyone notices your absence, they don't comment on it. He thinks maybe Timo covered for you, because he catches his friends eye across the room, nodding when Timo simply raises an eyebrow.

Just Dance has turned into some kind of Nintendo Sports Golf tournament, most of the boys and kids entertained by the video game on the giant TV. But the girls are still lingering around the tables, chatting idly and sipping flutes of champagne. Nico catches you watching them, sees the nervous rise and fall of your chest.

You can do this, he says internally, sends the good thought your way because he knows you've always had a way of reading his mind. Squeezing his hand, you look to him with pleading eyes. Nico just barely has to smile, tilting his head as if to say go ahead, I've got you baby.

You let out a calming breath, lips curling just the slightest bit and then you're letting go of his fingers, making your way over to the table with Nicole and Nola and some of the others. They greet you eagerly, making room for you around the table and Kristen pours you a flute of champagne.

Nico watches you for a moment, notices the still nervous shake of your hands and the way your smile has gone shy, but you make no move to run. In fact, your letting them tug on your left hand to see your ring, leaning in to talk excitedly with Nola and then he lets himself wonder over to Timo and Jonas.

"Can't believe you gave my best friend away," Timo teases him, holding out a beer for Nico to take. Jonas laughs too, looking over towards the girl and then giving Nico an impressed look.

"Thought it'd take a few more tries to get her to leave your side."

Timo snorts. "More like get him to leave her side."

Nico thinks of maybe defending himself but he can't because he does feel oddly lacking without you. Even if you're just across the room, it's weird to not have you looking at him from time to time, or running over to tell him something, or just to give him a kiss. Not detrimentally so, but enough the he feels a bit awkward, doesn't know what to do the hand that's usually thrown over you shoulder or resting on your lower back.

It's a welcome ache though, worth the slight discomfort, because that night when it's just the two of you again, you tell him all about Nicole going to the rival high school, how she didn't grow up too far from you actually, and Nola wants to try yoga but won't go alone and hates going with Jonas so she's gonna try it with you and Timo.

And he practically kisses you silly when you curl into side under the covers, peeking up at him with wet eyes and a watery smile when you whisper, "I made friends Nico."

~~~~

An overwhelming amount of papers lay across his desk, the cute little knickknacks and framed photo of you and him at a concert last summer wiped away and stacked off to the side to make room for everything.

Nico doesn’t know how you’ll react, if you’ll even want to read through all this stuff but he laid it out for you anyway. You like reading, like analyzing numbers and information like this. He remembers how well you did it with what you so fondly called the Steel Deal. The acquisition of Johnny from the Penguins.

The memory of you, proud and confident when you presented him with that deal -more like surprised him with it actually- because he hadn’t even thought about trying to bring Johnny to Jersey. And he hadn’t thought you’d want to be doing deals for the Devs after Philly. He thought you’d want to keep a low profile.

Instead, after the initial recovery, you jumped head first into training with Timo, into learning anything and everything they were willing to teach you, into tagging along with Nico on routine check ups around the city.

He thinks of that girl, by his side for everything, so certain in her place. It took work but you seemed to find your spot, to find the things you genuinely liked doing for the Devs. He could see the way it eased you, you smiled easier, went through the day happy, knowing you found somewhere you belonged.

And he thinks of the girl he saw at the engagement party a few days ago, how unsure she was, how defensive. He hasn’t seen you like that since those few months stretching between him breaking up with you and coming home from Philly.

You weren’t happy then, weren’t yourself. It was like a shell of the person he knows and loves. You looked small, felt small, and Nico swore then and there he’d never let you feel like that again. He’d always show you that you’re worth a lot more than you think.

But he coddled you too much, and while it’s kept you pretty safe so far, it’s also hurt you. He wrapped you in a safety net and tied it tight, didn’t leave room for you to grow under his protection. Nico didn’t encourage you the way he should’ve.

He’ll spend the rest of his life being your biggest fan.

Starting here. In this mess of papers and contracts and legal documents.

His biggest deal. His smartest decision. This is what he’ll be remembered for. At least he hopes.

Nico doesn’t know where in the house you are, he just knows that you and Timo got back a little bit ago with hoards of grocery bags on your arms. Staring there, he lightly closes the door to his office and makes his way to the kitchen.

He pauses outside the living room, finding you on the couch in a surprisingly darker environment than he thought it’d be. Maybe it wasn’t just a little bit ago that he saw Timo because it’s well past five judging by the darkness outside the windows and his friend is no where to be seen.

You’re laying in the corner of the couch, nestled in the cushions that have gotten overly soft from you and him always favoring that spot. A fluffy white blanket is thrown over your lap, bunched up against your torso but not enough to hide that fact that you’ve got one of his crewnecks on, a soft grey one that has St. Moritz stitched into it with a little embroidered Swiss flag underneath.

Nico’s had that thing for years. Luca had bought it for him when he was about 13 during a birthday trip for Nico. It was on sale because all that was left in size was a 2XL in US sizes but the fabric was soft and Nico kept rubbing his fingers on the sleeve when he walked by it.

Luckily he grew into it and a decade later the thing is still hanging on, even if Nico doesn’t wear it anymore. You wear it plenty though, especially around the holidays and he wonders what about it makes you pull it out every November.

Moose, curled up at your feet on couch lifts his head when Nico moves into the living room. You pull your gaze from the television, looking to Nico and he smiles at the way your eyes go starry.

“Done with work?” You ask, biting at your bottom lip and he feels a little bad for not paying attention to the time, for working late when he didn’t mean to. It’s obvious by your expression that you’ve been patiently waiting for him, not wanting to interrupt him working.

He leans over you, hands sinking into the couch cushions and presses a kiss to your lips. “Need you to come look at something real quick,” he says, then kisses you again.

“Then you’ll be done?”

You’re so sweet, trying to be subtle about wanting his attention. It’s funny that in moments like this, when it’s pertained to work, you’ll be polite, but any other time you get demanding and whiny.

Or mean, he laughs to himself, thinking of you with Timo earlier this week.

“Then I’ll be all yours.” He confirms.

A slow smile takes over your face. Taking that as an agreement, Nico tugs the blanket off of you, tossing it over Moose. The dog doesn’t budge, remaining curled up in the warmth.

Taking your hand, Nico leads you down the hall and to his office. You pause in the doorway, taken aback as you look over the state of his office.

“Did you work from home all day?”

Nico hums, ushering you in with a hand on your hip. “Started the morning at Sötis,” he explains, leaning back against the doorway as you trail further into the room.

“And then came home to do some light reading?” You tease, rounding his desk. Just as he expected, you trail your fingers over the top papers, glancing at all the information laid out.

Briefly, you look up at him through your eyelashes, innocently awaiting his reaction. He wouldn’t ever stop you from knowing important information about the Devils, wouldn’t deny you the knowledge of the business.

Especially not a business that is half yours.

“Go ahead,” he encourages. Not needing to be told twice, you drag his chair over and curl up in it, shifting through the stacks. He’s patient, watching you greedily read every word laid out before you.

He’s not sure which stack you’re currently on but he knows exactly which one is going to make you jump from that chair. The one littered with your name, signed and authorized by him and made legal by his lawyers.

Nico wasn’t exactly keeping it from you. If you ever asked, ever sifted through his desk just for the hell of it, he would’ve been fine with you knowing. It’s taken him months to get it all written up, properly laid out.

But it wasn’t until the engagement party that he officially signed the last bit of his plans. The papers dividing the Devils organization into two halves.

“Nico,” you mumble, a hint of disbelief in your tone. A sly smile curls at his lips, seeing the pinch between your eyebrows and the confusion in your gaze. Under it all though, is a hint of awe.

“What is this?”

He pushes off the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and he plays the fool. “I don’t know. What does it say?”

You blink, look back down at the papers and then up at him. “It says I own Hischier enterprises.”

Trying not to laugh, Nico hums and looks over your shoulder, ignoring the way your craning your neck to look up at him, to find answers in his features.

“Would you look at that,” he says, running his hand through your hair, settling it on your neck. “It sure does.”

He does laugh when you roll your eyes, pushing yourself up from his chair and placing the contacts back on his desk. Taking a hold of his shoulders, he lets you steer him into the chair, kneeing his legs apart so you can settle in his lap.

You collect the papers again, holding them in front of him. “Explain. Now.”

So he does. Yeah he could wait and make you read through it all on your own, realize what he’s been working on for the past few months, but it’ll mean more from him.

Reading it makes it seem like business, like he’s forcing this change upon you. Hearing it from him though, is how it should be. He can explain that it’s not just because, that it’s not just a deal. You’ve earned this, you deserve this.

After everything you gone through with him, this is yours. And come what may, it’ll always be yours.

Nico has officially turned the Devils into a legal entity under the name Hischier Enterprises. The official parent company of the Rock, Sötis, Red Rose Flower Boutique, and more. Every business the Devils have stock in, have partner ownership of, is now under Hischier Enterprises.

Starting January 1st, the newly appointed CEO is none other than Y/n Hischier.

He can see the moment it hits you. When your eyes go all moony and look to him like he might be crazy, like he maybe made the worst decision ever but you still love him for it.

“That’s crazy,” you say, as if your face wasn’t already telling him that. “I can’t run the devils, I mean where are you? Your name isn’t on any of this anymore Nico.”

He pries your left hand off the contract, bringing it up to his lips to press a calming kiss to the back of it. You let out a slow breath at the action, sinking into the arm he’s got wrapped around you.

“No my name isn’t on it. I’m in charge of the other half now.”

Before you can so much as take another breath, he continues, all the while soothingly trailing his thumb up your ring finger until it meets the cool metal of your ring, and then down to your freshly manicured nail.

Your name is on everything because he’s just made the Devils legal through Hischier Enterprises, and he’s done it under the name of someone with a squeaky clean record, someone who has no trace back to organized crime. You.

As for him and the boys, the Devils will remain operational just as they had before. Instead of him juggling both the welfare of their protected companies and the Devs activities off the books, he’ll simply do the latter. You’re now in charge of managing books, expanding investments, and protection. The legal face of the Devils.

Nico and his boys will keep up their under the table deals, their Jersey contracts, the buy offs and bribes. Everything illegal will be kept away from you. In fact the only time Hischier Enterprises will ever technically be doing business with the Devs, will be when Nico feeds money through the businesses to make it clean.

“You’re giving me all of this?” You ask in disbelief. “What about the others? I mean Jesper and Jonas have been around this whole time. Even Timo, he should be doing this-“

“He will be,” Nico interjects “if you want him too. You’ll need a team to join you, and all of the boys know they’re available to you. So whoever you choose will be working under you now.

“I’ve got some recommendations of course. Keep Timo obviously. You two work together better than him and I ever have. I’d like to offer up Mercer too though, give him a bigger role. I think we both know after Switzerland that he’s ready for it.”

Nico gives you a moment to think, to take it all in. It’s a lot, he knows that. You do looked a little more shocked than he thought you would, like you never imagined you’d be this important to the Devils. It almost makes him laugh, how you still don’t get it.

Maybe he’ll be spending the rest of his life still trying to convince you that you’re the heart of the Devils.

Finally, a look of acceptance washes over you. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you sit up straight, taking on an air of leadership.

There she is, Nico thinks. This is the girl that he’s put in charge, the one that knows herself, is sure of herself. The smart girl that took his breath away from the moment she opened her mouth.

“I’ll take Mercer,” you agree, eyes looking at him with so much warmth he already knows he’s going to agree to whatever comes out of your mouth next. “If you keep Jack.”

“Okay,” Nico agrees easily, but you’re not done. Holding up a finger to stop him.

“As your second hand.”

He already knows where this is going. You’re going to take Luke, train him under you, and Nico will keep Jack. They’ve been at each other’s sides since the moment Luke got here, and then he got lost in the mess of cleaning you up after Philly.

Luke’s abilities have taken a back seat, tucked away by his brother acting as boss for the first few months of his time in Jersey. He hasn’t been able to grow and Jack has been held back making up for it.

Separate them and they’ll have room to grow.

Most importantly though, you trust Jack to have Nico’s back. If you and him are going to be running things separately now, if you’re going to be taking some of his men, you’re going to leave the one you know would protect him the way you would. And Jack is that guy.

Just to be sure, he asks, “Jack? You believe in him enough to do that?”

There’s no hesitation in your response. “Yeah I do.”

He nods and that’s that. Come the new year and Jack will begin training to back up Nico.

Pleased, you smile and tuck the papers back into a pile, sitting back into his hold. He presses his thumb into the dimple on your back, tucking you under his chin and giving you time to let it all hit.

He can’t bombard you with the rest, not until you’re ready.

“I can’t believe you did this Nico,” you say after a while, a hint of giddiness in your tone. Chuckling, he flexes his leg to jolt you. Your hand grabs at his stomach, using him to steady yourself.

“You didn’t think all that training with Timo and me was for nothing, did ya?”

It’s out there now. This was always the plan. For years it’s been the plan. The universe threw the smartest, most determined woman in the world in his lap and he didn’t take it for granted.

You were always meant for this.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just trusted you and Timo. Knew it would all work out.”

Nico presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Smart girl,” he compliments, then pats at your hip to get you to sit up. “Something else here for ya, baby.”

He presses his chest to you back, leaning over the desk with you and he points out which files are for which businesses, which stack holds all the information on the boys in case you want to study up on their numbers before choosing. Just as you’d done so beautifully with Johnny. He shows you the folder with potential future investments, the ethical studies and profit profiles on them. All things he knows you and Timo are capable of doing. Will happily do.

Eventually, he gets to the last folder. Slides it across the desk until it sits in front of you, begging to be opened.

Assets.

Nico squeezes your side encouragingly, and your nimble fingers flip it open. Inside lays every document listing every one of his personal assets. The vehicles in the garage, the Suite at MetLife, the jet, the penthouse apartment he lived in when he met you, the house you’re currently sat in, and the one you stayed at all the way in Switzerland.

At the top of every single one is your name.

Signing that last one over was a trick, because he needed another Hischier witness to sign alongside him. But Luca was more than happy, even if he did grill Nico a bit about sighing all his property and worth over to you.

Add it all up and it’s still not worth her, Nico had said in explanation. It went unspoken but they both knew his intention.

You get it all and Nico gets you.

“You didn’t,” you gasp, slamming the folder shut. Like it won’t be true if you can’t see it. “Nico you did not take your name off of everything.”

You shove the file back across the desk, tucking your hands between your thighs and he laughs. He didn’t really know what he was expecting reaction wise but wigging out like this wouldn’t have been high on the list.

“Sure I did,” he says, casually. “As soon as we get married it’ll be half mine again anyway.”

Shaking your head, you lean back into his arm to get a better look at him. Nico smiles, ignoring the judgmental gleam in your eye.

“Why did you do this?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why did you do this? We’re getting married and like you said, it would have been half mine then. So why sign it over now?”

You’re not angry, not upset him but there’s something there he can’t quite place. Almost like you’re waiting for a bomb to drop, for him to admit there was some ulterior motive here.

In a way, there is, though it’s not in the way you so obviously think it is.

“Everything but the house in Switzerland was under your name since the moment we bought this one.” He admits, meeting your unwavering gaze. You’re waiting to see if he’s lying, if he’ll give away something else. There’s nothing to give away though, and you tilt your head with curiosity when you realize he’s not hiding.

“After Philly, I wanted you to be safe. I told you that I’d always take care of you, and I did.”

You blink, unrelenting and he smiles a bit. He wasn’t lying when he said you’re the smartest person he knows but once again, you won’t look at what’s right in front of you.

If there’s one thing he’s learned to do since meeting you, it’s how to speak his thoughts. It doesn’t always come easy, but when you’re looking at him with those Bambi eyes, it’s simple.

He explains that the little work he did in the months after Philly was signing his assets over to you. He knew it would all be yours one day anyway so why not now? It was what’s best.

Because him putting your name on those papers provided you with everything you’d ever need. In the event that something ever happened to him, that he wasn’t fit to be boss anymore, that he somehow didn’t make it home to you, you’d never have to worry. You’d have the homes, the card, the money, and most importantly the Devils.

In the event of Nico doing something stupid like dying, you’re the new head of the family.

“You’ve been thinking about that?” You ask incredulously, “Since then?”

Nico nods, like it’s no big deal. Because it isn’t. This whole time, the endgame was you. Everything he is, everything he has, it’s always been yours.

“I told you when I got you back that I was making sure I was ready for you, prepared for you.” He says, fingers finding the chain on your neck. Pulling it out of his hoodie on your frame, Nico fiddles with the pendant and ring. “I don’t live the safest life, I know that. So if something ever happened to me, I had to make sure you’d be taken care of.”

You’re silent and Nico looks up to see your reaction, pauses when he realizes you just watching him with glossy eyes, bottom lip bitten between your teeth

Finally you blink, shaking your head softly. “You’re stupid if you think you could just up and I die and I wouldn’t have any say in it.”

It’s impossible, not that either of you say that. Actually if Nico thinks about it, you might just have a say in it. You’re so stubborn, so capable, maybe you could drag him back from the afterlife.

He leans in to touch his lips to yours, smiling against them when you run your fingers through his hair, cradle his face so gently. “No need to worry then.”

“Can’t help it,” you murmur, the words hot on his mouth “I worry about you all the time.”

Nico pulls back at the heaviness of your tone, searching your face to see what happened to the sweet girl that was holding him just a moment ago. Instead you look concerned, lips drooped in a frown and eyes rounded with sadness.

When he doesn’t say anything, you press on. “I don’t want any of this stuff if I don’t have you Nico. It’s not-“

He kisses you, locking his fingers around your throat in that way he knows makes you go boneless. This conversation wasn’t meant to make you teary, to make you upset at the thought of him not being here with you. But he can’t not have a plan in place.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, knowing he left you unprepared. Vulnerable.

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere then,” he says into your lips, your fingers pressing in tighter on his scalp, hanging onto his every word.

Nothing could ever take him away from you, not without a fight.

Hours later, with the documents on his desk forgotten and the office door locked tight, you bring it up again.

It’s too early to be watching a Christmas movie but you’ve got a Charlie Brown Christmas playing on the tv, the only light in the living room coming from the flickering flames of the fireplace and the flashes on the screen.

Moose is sprawled out on the carpet, too close to the fire for how thick is fur is and that’s evident in the way he occasionally pants and squirms to a new cool space on the floor.

Laying against his chest in that corner of the couch you two love, you tilt your chin to look up at him. Nico thinks about making a joke, teasing that he can see up your nose or that you’re gonna get a crick in your neck.

The serious look in your eye stops him.

“What about the boys?” You ask, quiet and Nico strokes his hand up and down your arm.

“What boys?”

“The Devs boys,” you explain “The ones that have been with you since the beginning. You wouldn’t give it all to them instead?”

Nico had the talk with them, wanted to give them all a chance to plead their case. Jesper didn’t have one, just wanted to make sure Sötis was still his. Jonas only wanted to keep his job and his home with Nola.

As for Timo, he asked for nothing. His friend that had every right to demand it all, didn’t demand anything. He just smiled at Nico with that knowing look, like he knew this whole time that Nico would give the Devs to you.

“They agreed,” he says carefully. The last thing he needs is you panicking again, realizing that all these people have your back and freaking out on him. He’s still working on easing you into being real friends with them.

“They just agreed?” You ask, shifting to look straight at him instead of upside down. He already knows what you’re thinking. The boys know the business better, helped him build it. Why shouldn’t they run it?

“They all know and agreed that you’re in charge after me. Even if you didn’t know what you were doing at first, they all agreed they’d follow you.”

Timo’s condition to Nico signing everything over to you. It wasn’t so much a condition as it was a promise, but him and Nico one by one made sure all the boys were okay with the plan.

They’d teach you everything, and Timo would make sure you stayed safe and protected.

You don’t say anything. Just settle back into his chest, tugging his arm so that it rests heavy over your chest, your arms hugging his bicep. He’s not sure how much of the movie you actually watch, that thoughtful wrinkle between your eyebrows the whole time but when he takes you up to bed, you sleep soundly.

Knowing you’re protected and safe. Always.

~~~~

“Nico,” you whine, annoyed and begging. Your tone, on the edge of alarming, has him setting his phone down and looking up to you in concern.

Across the island, you stand with both hands held out in front of you, a kitchen knife hanging limply in your fingers. At first he thinks you’ve cut yourself, especially when he gets a good look at your face and sees tears trailing down your cheeks, eyes angry and red.

“Baby,” he gasps, jumping up from the tall chair and rushing around the counter. You drop the knife, let it clatter to the cutting board where a half chopped pile of onions lay.

“What?” He asks in confusion, because there’s not a drop of blood anywhere. Getting a better look at you, noticing his sunglasses haphazardly pushed onto the top of your head, he realizes what’s going on.

“I can’t cut the onion,” you pout, another tear rolling down your cheek. Your fingers reach up to swipe at it and he yelps to stop you.

“I got it,” he says, shooing your hands away and wiping at your cheeks with his own fingers. “Close ‘em,” he instructs, then carefully swipes at your wet eyelashes to dry any remaining tears.

Bleary, you blink your eyes open and he nudges you towards the sink. He waits for the sound of the water running before taking up your spot at the counter, fingers diligently swiping the knife through the remaining chunks of onion.

“You’ve got eyes of steel or something,” you grumble, fingers tangled in a dish towel as you come over to watch him. His sunglasses slip down your forehead, catching crookedly on your nose and he snorts in amusement.

“S’mental game,” he says gruffly, standing up taller and flexing his arms and chest. The move makes you giggle, tossing the towel at the side of his head and he ducks, letting it fly straight over him and onto the far counter.

You roll your eyes, his sunglasses now tucked in your hand. “You just have to be good at everything, don’t you?”

Turning your back to him, you return his glasses to their spot on the counter by the garage door, right under all the car keys. He laughs at your dramatizing, scooping up the diced onion and dropping it into the pan you’ve got warming on the stove.

“Not dinner,” he says, swiping away any remains of the vegetable and going to wash his hands. “So you can take over again.”

Not needing to be told twice, you go back to the cutting board, wrinkling your nose at the lingering burning scent of the onions.

“Will you start making a list of groceries for Thanksgiving?” You ask him sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him when he slumps back into his chair with a huff.

The holidays have always been a big deal to you. You plan them for weeks, every little detail from seating cards to the layout of the table. He never really cared for them too much, at least not Thanksgiving since he doesn’t really understand the politics of the holiday and whether or not he should be celebrating it. But you’re American and you enjoy it so he goes along with it.

It’s about family, you always told him. Traditions and being together is what makes you all a family. Nico didn’t have a lot of that until you came around so if making lists and cooking for hours and hanging leafs and placing cornucopias and eating chocolate turkeys is about family, then sign him up.

He’ll still grumble and huff about it though, mostly just to get to you.

“Don’t be like that,” you beg him, laying slivers of chicken into the sizzling pan with the onions. “You love Thanksgiving!”

“I love all the food,” he corrects, which is true. Between him and Luke, there’s never many leftovers for you guys to choke down the whole week after Thanksgiving. And while you’ve never had a problem with how much Nico eats, this is one of those holidays that he doesn’t have to feel too bad about consuming twice as much food as everyone around him. It’s the spirit of the holiday.

“Which is why you’re in charge of writing it all down,” you chirp, hand on your hip as you peer down at the stove with a pair of tongs in hand.

He always teases you for being weird about cooking chicken, but you have some phobia of getting salmonella and insist on watching the meat cook thoroughly with your own two eyes.

“You’re better at planning, ya know?” He says, but he’s already making a new shared note on his phone, listing the basics; turkey, stuffing, potatoes, etc.

“Ok, Mr. I-Already-Have-My-Will-Written-Out,” you mock, shooting him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Besides, you better get used to it because I am not planning our wedding by myself.”

The words just slip out. “I already started that.”

The kitchen goes silent for a moment, only the sizzling of the stove breaking the silence. Nico blushes, looking up from his phone and to his horror you’ve abandoned your watchtower overlooking the chicken.

“What?” You ask, lips curling into a shocked smile.

He shrugs, playing it cool. “Just small stuff. Some color ideas and like flowers. Maybe the time of year, that stuff.”

“When did you start doing that?”

Nico doesn’t want to admit that he’s had his mind on this for months, worries that maybe you’ll admit you hadn’t thought about it. That you’ll think it’s weird for him to have thought so much about it.

Dropping his gaze, he rushes out an explanation. “I uh saw something on Pinterest that made me think of you so I saved it and then all of sudden I just kept adding stuff.”

He hears the stove click, looks up from his phone again to find you crossing the kitchen towards him. You’ve got that moony look in your eyes again, cheeks just a little pink and warmth blooms in his chest, shy and sweet.

“What colors?” You ask carefully, stepping behind him. He’s about to complain, about to pull you into his lap but then your hands are rubbing over his shoulders, slipping down the front of his chest and you lean heavily into his back.

It’s a nice feeling, shielded. Almost how you hold him that night in Switzerland, after his brain warped his old childhood nightmare into something worse. Warped him into his father.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, tilting his head into yours when you press an encouraging kiss to his temple. “I thought maybe light blue and white? I know white like a wedding basic but the blue looks nice with it.”

He can feel you smile. “Yeah it does,” you agree, “baby blue? Like the hydrangea flower?”

Nico doesn’t know what flower that is. It is a baby blue though, more inspired by one of the pretty summer dresses you have. You wore it to brunch with him once, brand new and so perfect it looked like the designer had you in mind specifically when they made it. And you just looked so good he couldn’t help it, picturing you holding a baby blue bouquet in a white dress.

Then Pinterest read his mind because two days later he had baby blue wedding themes on his dashboard. He saved it, took it as a sign.

“Yeah I guess,” he says, enclosing his hand around yours, pressing them into his chest. “Is that-do you like that color?”

You kiss right beside his eye, a fluttering touch of your lips that makes his skin tickle. “Yeah I do,” you agree, “you look good in those soft colors too.”

Heat crawls up his neck, blooms in his face and he chuckles, flattered. “Thought you liked me in black?”

“I do,” you hum, “s’not my fault you look in good in everything. And nothing.”

Nico snickers, turning to press his nose into your cheek. “Nude wedding out of the question?”

“With all the boys there?” You say with mirth, “are you sure?”

Nico makes a face. Maybe just you and him then. An elopement, something small and intimate.

No that doesn’t sound right. The people you love should be there, the people that love you too. You deserve to walk down the aisle with every eye on you, knowing that today, it’s all about you.

“Fine,” he mumbles, “you can just flash me real quick before you walk down the aisle.”

A happy laugh bubbles out of you, girlish and giddy, so contagious it makes him laugh too. You bury your giggles in his shoulder, hair tickling his face and he strokes over your hand until you look at him again.

“Deal,” you nod, gaze shifting over his face like you’re trying to memorize everything about him, like you’re seeing something new there. Something better. Suddenly, something serious settles over your features.

“Nico,” you whisper, timidly “What if I have no one to invite? My side of the church will be empty.”

A church? Nico didn’t think you’d care for getting married in a church. He certainly doesn’t. He could use that to change the subject, to deflect away the dampened mood brought on by this question.

But this isn’t something he can ignore. You don’t talk about your family very much either, not that he ever wants to hear about them. To him, they’re scum, lower than scum. They’re the worst of the worst for the way they treated you and they don’t even deserve to be on your mind let alone spoken.

He’s wants you to be open though, to be accepting of love from people other than him. He can only do that by sorting through this. Through the much.

“Are you kidding?” Nico replies, keeping his words light. “No way the boys are picking my side over yours. Let’s see how many of them ask to be in your bridal party.”

You’re not deterred.

“Who will walk me down the aisle?”

Quick questions, quick answers. He doesn’t even have to think about it. It’ll always come down to whatever you want.

“Whoever you want to baby. If you want it to be me, I’ll do it. If you want it to be one of the boys, they’ll do it, if you don’t even want the fucking aisle I’ll get rid of it. Whatever you want to do.”

He can see the beginnings of a smile curling at your lips, amused at the idea of him removing an aisle from the wedding. You could do it too. Just come from around the crowd with him, meet in the middle in front of everyone. Just you and him.

“And my family?”

“We’re right here with you baby,” he promises, knowing that’s not exactly the family you’re asking about. He just needs you to know that no matter what, the Devils are family. “But if you want to invite them we can do that too.”

You make a face, like you don’t really want to but maybe you’ll think about it. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, he’d imagine. Not letting your parents know their only child is marrying. Even if they don’t show up, you can still invite them. That way they at least know.

“Really?” You whisper and he nods, squeezing your hand.

“Whoever is supposed to be there for you, will be there. I’m sure of it, baby.” He’ll make sure of it.

You lean in, place a grateful kiss to his lips. “I love you Schao.”

“I love you darling.”

Nico’s tilting his head to kiss you again when his phone buzzes on the countertop, the sound synching up with the chime of your phone in your pocket. Confused, you both pull back to check his screen.

It’s a text from Jack, sent in a group message with both you and Nico, as well as Luke. They never text just him when it’s out of work hours, knowing he’ll likely not check his phone. Unless it’s a phone call to his work phone, he doesn’t need to talk anyone but you.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, and Nico gets a good look at the text, echoing your words.

Quinn invited us to Vancouver after the holidays! And you guys too because Luke said he won’t go without Nico :)

#him and I #mob boss nico hischier #him and i chats #devils mafia au #nico hischier x reader #Nico hischier AU #nico hischier fanfic #new jersey devils #nico hischier

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taylormarieee · 2 years ago

Text

Tie's and Trends Miguel O'Hara

Summary: You saw a trend and wanted to try it on Miguel...

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY, Smut, edging, porn with plot, PiV sex, Miguel begging, Switch reader, Switch Miguel, Cream-pie

A/N: This was kind of requested but heres the original post where it all started...

"Miguel! Can I do this to you please!" You ask on your knees begging to do this TikTok trend with him.

He stares at your phone again and you can see the way his mind is racing. Moving like Clockwork.

"I don't know Bebita." He runs. his fingers through his hair. Little did he know you were making those cute puppy dog eyes you know he couldn't resist.

He finally looks down to you still on the floor and see's your face. He mentally curses himself and out loud.

"Mierda, You little-" Before he could finish his sentence your smiling, getting up and sprinting to go find a ribbon.

You. already knew what the answer was because of his reaction. When you finally come back with the ribbon he is staring at you with a look you've seen time and time again, but did you care? Nope!

"This is so stupid." He says as you tie the ribbon around his arms. His arms were a lot larger than others so you needed a slightly longer ribbon.

Once you finish tying it, you step back and observe your man. He looks so cute, yet extremely hot with those bulging veins in his arms.

You observe his hands and ten move down to the sweatpants he's wearing. He always wore sweatpants to tease you.

He knew you couldn't stop looking. Every 5 minutes you tried to at least get one glance of down there before he caught you.

But now? He was dead staring at you with his beautiful brown eyes. That red tint sparkling in the light.

"Miguel..." You whimper. It was supposed to come out nice and clear but more thoughts entered your head.

Miguel sits down and spreads his legs as if he alrfead knows what your about to ask.

"C'mere princess." He whispers motioning to his thigh. You walk over and sit on his thigh. He jolts his leg slightly to tease you.

"Miggy?" You whine out. He raises and eyebrow and smirks. "Yes mama?" He asks.

"Can ride you p-please." You squeak out. You fiddle with your fingers and look down trying to hide from his intense gaze.

"Go on baby..." He replies. When you look up at him a surge of confidence bolts down your spine and you feel the urge to become dominant.

"Your keeping the tie on. And No touching. I mean it." You sday pulling down your pants. He pulls his down halfway, without breaking the ribbon.

You pull them down to his ankles and remove his boxers. His semi-hard cock springs out and soon stiffens at the cool air.

You rub your hand up and down on his cock making precum leak out from the tip.

You quickly lined yourself up with his dick and slid down on him. You moaned out as you felt his huge cock stretch you out. He throws his head back in pleasure dying to touch you.

He knows he could break out of this ribbon but for you and your wishes, he has decided to keep it on until you say otherwise.

"Yea? You like that Miguel?" You ask as you roll your hips in that way that has Miguel cumming in seconds.

"y-yes, oh fuck... Meirda my love!" He says tightening his fists in the sheets.

"You gonna cum for me Miggy? Huh baby?" You taunt bouncing on his deliciously huge cock. You feel him all in your stomach.

You move your hand close to his throat as you roll your hips, lifting your hips and sinking slowly back down on him.

"Please mama, let m-me cum. Please? I-I've been good." Miguel whimpers out. His eyes wide and glossy.

You nod your head and he suddenly rips out of the ribbon dying to hold you while he shoots his delicious load inside you.

He flips you over a fucks into you to keep his load in. Something animalistic emerges from him as he roughly thrusts into you.

You cry out before you orgasm comes rushing through you. You scratch at Miguels back leaving red fresh marks.

"OH Fuck Miguel! Yes, give it to me please!" You cry out. He gives you what you want. He helps you ride out your high before pulling out.

He watches as his cum drips from your abused pussy and admires you in your fucked out state.

"I hated that." Miguel speaks out into the silence. You look up at him and prop yourself up on your elbows.

"Too bad, we're so doing that again." You say with a teasing smirk on your face.

He whines and whimpers at the fact that you want to do it again but you can see him trying so hard not to smile at the idea.

You loved your good little boy Miguel O'Hara...

Strictly written for ( @luvrxbunny , @queerponcho and @sunve1ns)

Taglist: @obviouslynini @itzdarling @grixonsdoll @aerangi @

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x you #sub miguel o'hara

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jaebeomsbitch · 1 year ago

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My First Kiss (E.M.)

PT: II coming soon

Summary: Eddie finds out you’ve never kissed anyone before and offers to teach you.

Warnings: Minors DNI!!! Kissing, some light touching, cursing.

A/N: this was supposed to be a short one haha. Not edited!

“It was traumatic! She left saliva all over my face, maybe she was part dog” Eddie dramatizes, hands swinging wildly, the tv playing low in the background. You can’t help but laugh along as if you understand. All you can really do is imagine.

You cant help the look of disgust on your face before smiling.

“Oh yeah your battle scars run deep” you giggle pushing his thigh with your foot.

“I feel like it’s worse for girls, isn’t it?” He asks.

You quickly look down, cheeks blooming red like a spring flower in the morning.

“I- u-uh uhm— I” you stutter.

Eddie’s eyes furrow, it’s incredibly uncharacteristic for you to be this flustered especially after knowing you so long.

“I- I wouldn’t know” you mumble, shaking your hair out and curtaining yourself away from your best friend.

“You want me to teach you?” He asks, his tone a lot raspier than you remember two seconds ago.

“W-what? N-no that’d be weird” you stammer as your gaze snaps up towards Eddie.

“C’mon it’s just a kiss, it doesn’t have to mean anything or change anything” he says, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. Something so normal for the two of you that now feels weirdly charged. You stare at him like a fish out of water, mouth open, eyes wide as you contemplate.

“You can trust me, sweetheart” he says softly. Your eyelashes flutter, you hate that your stomach flips when he cups your cheek.

“I know, I know— jus’” you swallow hard looking up at him.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I’ll always take care of you” he says softly.

“It’s not gonna change anything? You’ll still be you and I’ll still be me?” You ask, heart thumping hard against your ribcage.

“Yeah, just me and you. Always” he murmurs.

“Okay,” you whisper after a beat.

His fingers weave through your hair, his touch gentle, as he cradles the back of your head. You twist your bodies, the angle awkward but not as awkward as you feel.

"Okay," He echoes, his tone soft. His gaze holds yours, his attention intense, as he commits himself to making this experience good for you. With a tender smile, he tilts his head, his lips inches from yours, as he prepares to take your first kiss. Your breath hitches, hands fisting his shirt.

His mouth hovers above yours, his warm breath dancing across your skin, as he senses your nervousness. He pauses, his lips barely grazing yours, as he allows you to anchor yourself. His fingers tighten in your hair, his grip reassuring, as he remains motionless, waiting for your cue.

Your breath shakes as you your lips approach his, eyes clamming shut, gasping when your lips press against his. You end up tugging at his shirt, Eddie grunts as his arm slips pressing his body into yours.

“Easy, sweetheart” he says pulling away from your mouth when he realizes you’re shaking.

“You’re safe with me,” he runs his fingers through your hair, trying to calm your frazzled nerves.

“I’m okay- I’m okay. Just wasn’t expecting this” you say.

“Shit” he looks down, moving off of you.

“Sorry” he straightens out his shirt. You don’t miss the light dusting of pink on the tips of his ears.

You smile softly when you realize despite his usual suave manner he’s also nervous.

“S’kay” you hum, letting yourself fall back onto the couch. You can feel his gaze burning through you. As the silence rings loud in Eddie’s trailer the awkwardness starts to grow. This sense of dread starts pressing into your chest, it’s almost suffocating. You sit up abruptly, startling Eddie in the process.

“Jesus Christ!” He says clutching his chest.

“Sorry” you laugh, feeling the tension lighten instantly.

“Why were you sitting up like you’re fucking…Pazuzu?” He asks, struggling to cross his legs on the small couch. You shift back to give him more room.

“Nothing, just wanted to try again”you try to say nonchalantly, totally not like your heart beat is in your throat and you want to vomit with anxiety.

“Oh, yeah?” He says, that smile back on his lips. The one you’ve accustomed to seeing whenever he proves you wrong or beats you at skeeball.

You roll your eyes, “yeah but only if you don’t crush me in the process again.”

“I’m a growing boy!” He protests, moving to sit against the couch cushions again.

“You’re twenty five,” you deadpan.

“And yet you still want you kiss me” he grins, grabbing your elbow and pulling you towards him gently.

“Technically you asked to kiss me so I think you want to kiss me more” you tease, crawling over to him.

“Maybe I do” he smiles grabbing your hip and bringing your leg over his until you’re straddling him.

“Yeah right” you chuckle, brushing his hair back. You feel the way his hands slide down your hips to wrap around the backs of your thighs, your heart beat racing so fast you think you might have a heart attack.

“I’m serious,” he says, looking up at you with those big brown eyes.

“No you’re not” you laugh, not believing your player of a best friend for a second.

“Yes, I am” he says. Your eyebrows furrow as you look down at him.

“No you’re not” you shake your head. His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head forcing you to look at him. Your lips brush ever so slightly causing you to lose your breath.

“Yes I do” he whispers

“Eds…” your voice shakes, your hands finding his shoulders for some stability as everything you know starts to fall apart.

“I wanna kiss you sweets… please” he sounds so pathetic in the best of ways. You can’t help but squeeze his shoulders.

“I- I-“ you struggle with your desires and your logic.

“Just feel baby” he whispers, hand squeezing your thigh softly.

You swallow hard before pressing your lips to his, hands tangled in his knotted hair. You’re incredibly clumsy but Eddie doesn’t mind, not when he can feel his lips tingle with sparks.

Your fingers dig harder into his shoulders as you start to find your rhythm. Just when you start to get comfortable he squeezes your ass pressing your chest into his, not wanting to leave any space between you two. You moan as your hips press into his. You can feel the thick bulge through the stupidly short shorts he wears.

“Eddie” you pant as he starts pressing kisses down your neck.

“Mhm” he hums against your skin, sucking on it and leaving purple bruises.

“Fuck— m-maybe we’re going too fast?” You struggle to keep your thoughts together. He pulls back “You ‘kay?” He asks, his hand holding your jaw.

You nod, noticing how disheveled he looks. His hair mussed and tangled, lips puffy and dark pink, the collar of his shirt slightly stretched.

“M’okay” you lick your lips self consciously.

“What’s going through that beautiful head of yours?” He asks, his thumb rubbing your cheek back and forth.

“That we’re about to fuck everything up” you whisper.

“We’re not gonna fuck it up” Eddie responds immediately.

“I like you, I’ve liked you, I’ll continue to follow you around like a little lost puppy dog even if you don’t wanna kiss me again but we’re not gonna fuck us up” he says holding your face making sure you understand him clearly. Your mind reels as Eddie drops the thin vein, the one thing that kept the reality of what’s going on between you to unspoken.

“Eds…” you whisper.

“N-no it’s fine” he says, lowering his hands from your face as the embarrassment of being rejected sets in. Eddie is used you rejection but he actually likes you, it’s not some one night stand with a stranger.

“No, no hold on. I’m not saying no” you rush.

“I like you but— but you’re you and I’m… me” you say squeezing his shoulders

“What the fuck does that even mean?” He asks, his tone a little harsher than he means to be.

You flinch at this new side of your best friend.

“Nothing, it doesn’t mean nothing” you sigh, he won’t get.

“Tell me” he says grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. You swallow hard as you’re met with those big brown pleading eyes of his.

“You’re hot and I’m—“ you trail off.

“You’re what?” He pushes you again.

“A hideous monster that no one would ever look at” you murmur. You don’t have time to react before his lips are on yours, they’re not soft and patient like before. It’s angry and you find it hard to keep up but it feels like Eddie is swallowing you whole.

“Shut the fuck up, if I ever hear you talk ‘bout yourself that way again I’ll make sure you forget about all those stupid little thoughts, yeah?” He says, eyes wide. He looks pissed, more angry than you’ve seen him when he’s just off of work and customer was being an asshole.

“I- uhm okay” you stammer

“S’what I thought. Good girl” he breathes out a sigh, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You hate that your mind does blank as soon as the praise slips out of his pink lips, your body still as he falls back on the couch. His hands haven’t left the backs of your thighs, no. Instead he’s started tracing patterns onto the sensitive skin.

Every piece of your best friend is tantalizing whether he realizes it or not. It’s so easy to fall for his charm, especially when it includes those big brown eyes of his. You’d fallen for Eddie far too long ago, before the leather jackets and metal music. Back when scraped knees and soft kisses to your marred skin were innocent.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson / reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson/you #eddie Munson/ female reader

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plutotheplum · 2 months ago

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chapter four | the chariot

caleb x fem!reader

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “You’re not leaving.” Caleb stalks towards you, his fingers sliding under your chin, tilting your head up. “You’re not leaving until you’re fucked full of my cum.” He dips his head, the tip of his nose grazing yours. “Understand, sweetheart?”

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, modern au, smut, fluff, kissing, oral sex, p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, biting, bondage, vaginal fingering, handjob, dog tags, inappropriate photos, confessions

wc: 6.9k

a/n: this turned out to have a little more romance than i was expecting to write but i hope you enjoy! caleb is just soooo 🫦

also on ao3!

series masterlist | next up: the emperor

“Why are you wearing a scarf?”

You clear your throat, fingers tapping against the side of your glass of juice agitatedly.

“It’s quite cold, isn’t it?” you supply lamely, fingers itching to reach up and tug the scarf tighter around your neck, desperately hoping that Caleb hadn’t taken notice of the marks that were now in full bloom.

“Cold?” he echoes, raising his brows. “We’re in the middle of spring. Are you feeling sick?”

You hardly hear his question because you’re too busy trying to tilt your head in a way that doesn’t look too suspicious. The stupid fabric was beginning to itch, and it was driving you crazy.

Xavier had offered to help when he’d found you in his kitchen in the morning, desperately twirling a whisk against your neck. It had hardly helped. You would’ve opted for a turtleneck, but there was a certain lack of them in your closet. Instead, you’d rummaged around, managing to fish out an oddly-patterned scarf from the depths.

“C’mon, are you sick?” Caleb prods, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, the couch dipping under both your weights as you shift.

“No,” you mumble, silently wishing that this wasn’t happening right now. All you can manage is a pitiful excuse. “I just happen to really like scarves, Caleb.”

“Well, it looks ridiculous,” he says drily, nuzzling into your cheek. “You gonna take it off anytime soon?”

“It’s chic,” you correct, trying to squirm away from him. “And no, I’m still cold.”

Caleb huffs out a laugh, his lips pressing against your cheek fondly. You bite your lip when he picks you up, situating you on his lap, his chest warm against your back. Normally, it’d feel nice if you weren’t currently overheating and overwhelmed.

You stiffen when Caleb rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you closer. His lips drag across your jaw in a fleeting kiss and you can feel your eyes sliding shut, lulled into a state of comfort by his thumbs gently rubbing circles into your stomach through your dress.

Out of everyone, Caleb was the one you’d known the longest. You’d grown up together, until he’d moved away for a couple of years before coming back, his demeanor a little more intense than you’d remembered. You still weren’t sure of the reason, but Caleb had gotten sterner over the years, less willing to let you go.

He’d been your first kiss back then, your lips clumsy and inexperienced when he’d kissed you and shy, fleeting glances exchanged between you when he’d walked you home, his hand grasping yours firmly.

You’d never quite gotten the chance to explore the possibility of something more… serious with him, not when Caleb was joining the military soon after. You’d hardly even seen him around until the past few months, his schedule freeing up while he awaited deployment.

“I missed you,” Caleb murmurs, his nose nudging against the side of your head.

“I missed you too,” you mumble, playing with his fingers, your palm pressing against his a few moments later, hands locking together.

He smiles, and you hum when he squeezes your hand, wiggling on his lap happily. Caleb lets out a low noise, one his hands curling over your hip to stop you.

“Don’t do that,” he whispers, his eyes fluttering shut.

“You’re no fun.”

Caleb huffs out a breath, his face pressing into your neck with the intention of mouthing across your skin. He lets out an irritated noise when he’s met with a faceful of your woolly scarf, letting out an exasperated breath.

“Please take the damn thing off.”

“Can’t,” you reply, feigning innocence, “it’s too cold.”

Caleb narrows his eyes. “I can warm you up.”

You shake your head, jerking out of his grasp when he tries to tug your scarf free from around your neck. You’re at your wits end, squeaking when Caleb tries to lunge for you again.

“I want to have sex with the scarf on, Caleb!”

“Is that a new kink?” he laughs, his eyes lighting up, “c’mon baby, you gotta take it off.”

You squeal when he manages to catch you, your little dance around his coffee table coming to an end when he pulls you into his chest, his arms firm and unrelenting, preventing your escape.

“S- stop!” you yelp, trying to squirm out of his arms, shrieking when he hooks his fingers into the gap between your scarf and neck, pulling it free. “Caleb!”

Caleb catches your hand when you try to cover up your neck, his expression dropping when he sees the extent of damage Xavier had laid to your skin. You stare up at him, swallowing nervously, fingers itching at your side, desperately wanting to snatch the scarf back from him.

“What,” he sucks in a shaky breath, “what the fuck is that?”

“N- nothing!” you protest, trying to turn your back to him. “It’s- it’s probably just an allergic reaction to my scarf!” You manage to twist yourself, hand shooting out to grab your scarf, pretending to give the little tag a once-over. “Mhm, yep, definitely an allergic reaction. I- I am, in fact, allergic to wool.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Caleb scoffs, “I know you aren’t allergic to anything.”

“It happens with age,” you lie through your teeth, “ever heard of dermatitis?”

Caleb stares at you blankly, shaking his head incredulously after a moment. “You’ve been spending too much time with Zayne,” he mutters. You watch uneasily as he balls his hands up into fists before he unclenches them, his fingers spreading out in a strained gesture. “Who did it?”

“Xavier,” you mumble, playing with your fingers.

“I’m going to missile strike his apartment.”

You’d laugh if you weren’t so on edge. “You can’t do that,” you reply exasperatedly, “I live in the same apartment complex, remember? Besides, wouldn’t that be like a crime?”

“That is a crime,” Caleb snaps, pointing at your neck accusingly, “I mean what the fuck did you do with him? He’s practically tried to devour you whole.”

You flush when you remember what you had done with Xavier. The teasing, the feeling of his mouth on your tits, you’d enjoyed it.

Caleb glares at you when he sees the faraway look in your eyes, his arms crossing over his chest. “You don’t have to look so satisfied.”

“Well, he did satisfy me,” you mutter under your breath, shifting on your feet awkwardly.

Caleb scrubs a hand over his face before running his fingers through his hair. His jaw clenches as he stares down at you, gaze fixated on the discolored splotches that cover your neck. There’s an uncomfortable tension in the air and you wring your hands together, averting your gaze from his.

“I can leave,” you offer quietly, “if that’s what you w-”

“What?” you ask breathlessly, somehow pinned in place by his darkened gaze and stern expression, holding none of the playful humor that you were accustomed to.

“You’re not leaving my apartment until I fuck you full of my cum,” Caleb repeats, tightening his grip on you. “Do you understand?”

“Well, I-” you sputter, cheeks hot, struggling to comprehend his words.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, spinning you around, his palm warm against your stomach. You bite back a whimper when he caresses your stomach, his hand pressing down firmly when you turn your head, eyes fluttering shut.

Caleb keeps his hand there, fingers splaying out, trying to encompass every inch of you that he can. His nose nudges against the side of your head, his breath hot against your skin. “Cat got your tongue, hm? You can go and sleep with those two pieces of shit but you can’t answer a simple question, huh?”

“Xavier’s not a piece of shit,” you shoot back agitatedly, eyes opening to send him an irritated look. “And neither is Rafayel. Grow up, Caleb.”

“I was right here,” he hisses, glaring down at you. “I was right fucking here and you decided you wanted to fuck four other men to have a fucking baby.”

“Yes, I did,” you retort sharply, turning in his arms, your finger pressing into his chest harshly. “If you can’t handle that, then maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this.”

Caleb’s eyes flash with anger, his grip on you loosening when you take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I agreed first,” he snaps, “or did you forget about that little detail?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” you say exasperatedly, throwing your arms up. “I’m here, in your fucking apartment, Caleb! And yes,” you snap harshly, blinded by your irritation, not quite paying attention to the words slipping out of your mouth, “I want to be fucked full of your cum!”

Caleb’s expression falters when he hears the latter part of your outburst, his eyes widening. Your chest heaves, a frustrated sound leaving you when you realize what you’ve said. You may as well have grabbed a shovel and started looking for a plot of land to bury yourself in.

Instead, you send him a glare that you hope is venomous enough, shoving past him to save face, storming into his bedroom.

“Hey, what are you-” Caleb begins, trailing after you awkwardly, his movements unsure.

Still fuming, you unzip your dress, flinging the fabric at his stupidly handsome face, irritated by his bewildered expression. Caleb’s face disappears for a moment while he sputters, managing to ball your dress up before you throw your bra and panties in his face too. His cheeks flush at the sight of your panties, his fingers clenching around the lace.

“I’m ready,” you announce, well aware of the marks Xavier had left on your breasts and a few more that were hidden between your thighs. You gesture towards yourself. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Fuck me.”

“Uh-” Caleb clears his throat, taken aback by your sudden burst of determination, “maybe you should… calm down first?”

“You think I should calm down?” you retort sharply, “you’re the one that was throwing a temper tantrum!”

“For good reason!” he protests, setting your clothes down on top of his dresser before stepping towards you. “All someone needs to do is take one look at your neck and they’d understand where I’m coming from.”

“You started it with Xavier,” you hiss, finger prodding into his chest once again, “if you hadn’t riled him up, then maybe he wouldn’t have done this.” You gesture towards your neck agitatedly.

“Clearly it’s not just your neck, is it?” Caleb murmurs, his hand sliding up over your waist, his warm, calloused hand cupping your breast, squeezing gently. “All over your tits too.” He frowns at the sight, leaning back to watch your nipples harden at his ministrations, his eyes narrowing when he sees the splotchy marks left by Xavier. “You call that fair, sweetheart?”

All you can manage is a stubborn pout, averting your gaze. He sighs, and you shuffle forward, pressing your face into his chest. “He apologized,” you say, remembering the way Xavier had been on his knees. You let out a heavy breath. “Turns out he’s really good at apologizing.”

“I bet he is,” Caleb grumbles bitterly, his fingers pinching at your nipple absentmindedly.

You whimper, silently cursing yourself for being so weak. Caleb’s other hand comes up to cup your other breast, weighing it in his hand. The breath he lets out sounds a little too strained to be considered normal, your head tilting upwards to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” he says finally, his thumbs stroking over your nipples, his expression turning slightly serious.

Caleb lowers his head, his nose brushing against yours. He doesn’t go any further, simply staring into your eyes. It’s a little unnerving until you realize what he wants from you. Fingers curling into his shirt, you bring him a little closer to you, eyes slipping shut as your lips meet his in a chaste kiss.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper against his lips, “for not being understanding of your um-” you pause, trying to think of the right word, “preferences?”

He hums, his hand sliding up over the side of your neck to cup your cheek. “Yeah,” Caleb murmurs, “I still don’t think you understand what you mean to me.”

You blink up at him, brows furrowing in confusion. Caleb’s eyes bore down into yours, his expression conflicted. You stare into his eyes searchingly when you think you spot a hint of wistfulness breaking through. “Caleb?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he whispers, both of his hands cupping your cheeks now. “I like you, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you say, the tension bleeding out from you. “I like you too, Caleb,” you chirp, a smile on your face, “you didn’t have to scare me like that.”

“What?”

“What?” you parrot back, confusion marring your expression yet again.

“No,” Caleb huffs out an irritated breath, “no, I like you.”

You give him a blank look. “...I know. You just said that.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath, “I like you as in romantically. As in I’ve spent the last fifteen years of my fucking life pining after you.”

What? Your mouth opens before you close it, stunned into silence. You always knew Caleb had a little thing for you, but fifteen years?

“And you didn’t say anything earlier?” you manage out, “and you chose to confess now?” You gesture towards your bare body, cheeks flushing.

“The timing was never right,” he replies stubbornly, his eyes narrowing, “and yes.”

“I don’t think the timing is right now!” you protest, shaking your head.

“You don’t feel the same way.”

You shoot him an indignant look. “I didn’t say that, Caleb. It’s just… it’s complicated. You know it is.”

“Always is with you, isn’t it?” he murmurs, his jaw clenching.

“Are you serious?” you begin, feeling cornered, “if you had just said some-”

You’re cut off when Caleb dips his head, pressing a bruising kiss against your lips, one that steals the air from your lungs, leaving your vision blurry when he pulls back.

“It’s okay,” Caleb says, his arms sliding under your thighs to pick you up before he dumps you on his bed unceremoniously. “The baby’s going to be mine, and when it is, I’m going to put a pretty fucking ring on this finger.”

“Marriage?” you squeak out, your complaints muffled by his mouth when he crawls over you, his mouth working against yours hungrily.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, pecking your lips gentler this time, “‘m gonna marry you, sweetheart.”

You were fairly certain the constant high altitudes he was flying at had gotten to his brain. Zayne could help, you think belatedly, until that thought is brushed away when he kisses your cheek, his lips returning to yours soon after, his tongue licking into your mouth,

“What if the baby’s not yours?” you ask him breathlessly, thighs spreading wider when he settles his hips between them.

Caleb frowns at you, his grip adjusting on your hip. “It’ll be mine,” he says self-assuredly, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You can’t be sure-”

“I’ll cum twice,” Caleb retorts.

“That’s- that’s against the rules!” you try to protest, a needy sigh slipping out of you when he mouths at your neck, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin as though trying to erase the marks laid there. “You- you all agreed to cum once ah- to- to make it fair!”

“Nothing fair about this whole thing, honey.”

Your toes curl when he calls you honey, an unbidden giggle slipping out of you. Caleb leans back to stare at your expression, a smile pulling at his lips when he sees you trying to hide away in the pillows, his nose nuzzling into your cheek, pressing soft kisses all over.

“You like that,” he laughs, his hand finding its way between your thighs.

“So- so what?” you ask breathlessly, moaning against his mouth when he slides his fingers between your puffy folds, your lips meeting his for a brief kiss, hips bucking when Caleb rubs your clit.

“So stop pretending like you don’t.”

You paw at his broad shoulders, fingers latching onto his biceps greedily. Caleb groans softly at your groping, his eyes going half-lidded, a pretty pink tinging his cheeks when you run your hands over his chest, squeezing his firm pecs.

“Take your shirt off,” you whisper, hands sliding under the hem of his shirt to feel his bare skin.

Caleb complies, sitting back on his knees. You watch as he pulls his shirt off in one smooth motion, the silver chain around his neck grabbing your attention, the metal of his dog tags clinking together.

“You still wear these?” you muse as you sit up, your fingers coming up to fiddle with his dog tags, flipping one of them over to read his name stamped into the metal. “Even when you’re not deployed?”

“All the time,” he murmurs, his fingers encircling your wrist, lips brushing over your knuckles.

You shiver at the fleeting kiss, leaning forward, your hands pushing at his chest to get him to lie down. Swinging a leg over his hip, you settle down on his lap, watching the way his dog tags settle between his pecs.

“I suppose you are a big shot, Caleb,” you sigh, biting your lip, fingers skimming down his chest teasingly.

“Colonel,” he corrects, watching hazily as you squirm down to settle on his thighs, fingers hooking into the waistband of his sweats and boxers to pull them down.

Caleb’s cock slaps against his abdomen, hard and thick and somewhat imposing. You stare down at his arousal, cheeks flushing at the sight, watching as his cock twitches, pre-cum smearing across his skin.

“‘s nice,” you offer, hand wrapping around his cock, cunt throbbing when you feel the weight of him in your hand. “And- and big.”

“Bigger than theirs?�� he asks, raising his brows, watching you closely as you begin to stroke his cock lazily.

Sylus’ was comparable, but you decide against telling him that, lest he throw another fit. Instead you nod, fighting the urge to roll your eyes when Caleb’s chest puffs out, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

His hand slides between your thighs and you shift, settling on top of it, grinding your hips across his calloused palm, wetness coating his skin. Caleb lets out a heavy breath and you whine, mouth opening and tongue lolling out to let spit drip from your mouth onto his cock.

“Fuck,” he rasps, throwing an arm over his face to hide his flushed expression, “baby, you’re fucking insane.”

“You wanted to missile strike another man’s apartment,” you shoot back, trying to pry his arm away from his face, eager to see his expressions. “Wanna see, Caleb.”

“I never said the idea was off the table,” he grouses, tilting his head to the side to let you mouth at his neck, his hips bucking up into your touch, trying to fuck his cock into the confines of your hand. “He could be a security threat,” Caleb mutters, his hands groping at your ass, squeezing and kneading. “Remind me to do a background check.”

“You’re such a baby,” you sigh, peering down to watch his cock move through your hand, tightening your grip.

A glob of pre-cum pools from the tip of his cock and you squirm, trying and failing to shuffle down and take his cock into your mouth, glaring at him when he keeps you anchored against him, on his lap.

“Always hungry for cock, hm?” Caleb coos, drawing out a loud moan from you when he curls his fingers, sinking them into your clenching pussy. “My cock-hungry little slut.”

You stifle a whimper, hips rising and falling as you fuck yourself on his fingers. His cock throbs in your hand and you squeeze, watching as more globs of thick pre-cum bead at the tip, smearing across when you spit down on his cock again, your lustful gaze meeting his.

“What?” you mumble, pecking his lips gently, eyes fluttering shut.

“Nothing,” he breathes out against your lips, his fingers crooking further, your head tipping back when his fingers hit the sensitive spot inside of you, the feeling enough to have you crying out. “You’re just… pretty.”

You blink up at him, lower lip jutting out in a pout, heart lurching uncomfortably in your chest. You press your face into the crook of his neck, your wrist twisting at a faster pace, jerking him off more desperately.

“Ah-” Caleb moans, his hand on your hip tightening when you rock your hips faster, his eyes squeezing shut when he feels the clench of your pussy around his fingers. “Slow down, honey.”

“I wanna watch you cum,” you say, teeth scraping along his shoulder, thumb brushing over the head of his cock, smiling when you feel Caleb jolt and grunt.

“No-” he shakes his head, “no, shit- I can’t cum now, baby.”

You ignore him, hand stroking faster, your other hand drifting to cup his balls, massaging them gently. Caleb curses and you squeal when he slaps your ass, the view of his room changing suddenly when he grabs you by your hips and pins you down into the bed.

You open your mouth to protest, to tell him that you weren’t done stroking his cock, but you’re only met with the creak of Caleb’s bed as he gets off of it, disappearing through the door. Your brows furrow, the bed dipping as you crawl to the edge of the bed. “Caleb?” you call out, “are- are you coming back?”

Your confusion only grows when he returns with your scarf in hand. “I- I wasn’t serious,” you begin, feeling disoriented when he moves towards you, “I don’t actually want to have sex with the scarf on.”

Caleb smiles, his eyes glittering with mirth. “I thought it might help you keep your hands to yourself,” he murmurs, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, making your face scrunch up.

You stare up at him, head tilting in question. Caleb huffs out a laugh at your expression, nose nudging against yours to land a kiss to your lips this time. His hands slide under you, picking you up before placing you closer to the headboard of his bed. You squirm under him, watching as he straddles you.

While he’s too busy pinning your wrists together, you lean forward, mouth enveloping his cock. Caleb jerks at the sudden sensation, cursing loudly, his body hunching over as you lap at the head of the cock.

“Can you listen for once?” he asks exasperatedly, his eyes narrowing down to look at you as you try to crane your neck forward, trying to take him deeper into your mouth.

Caleb rolls his eyes when you don’t listen, his fingers sliding over your wrists, winding your woolly scarf around and around, effectively binding them together. You whine when his cock slips out of your mouth with a soft pop, trying to sit up only to find your movement restricted. Your head tilts back, a huff of air leaving you when you realize he’s tied your wrists to the railing of the headboard of his bed.

“I didn’t know you were into bondage, Caleb.”

“It’s not-” Caleb sputters for a moment, before he stares at you suspiciously, “how do you know what bondage is?”

You smile up at him sweetly. “I like to read.”

He decides against chastising you, instead making a mental note to pry into whatever it was that you were reading. Your eyes flutter shut when he strokes his hand over your hair, his lips slotting over yours. “Is this okay?” he asks, fingers trailing down your sides to grip your hips, “being tied up?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, pecking his lips gently, “it’s okay.”

You bite your lip as you watch him slink down your body, his lips leaving kisses as he moves. A soft sigh escapes you when he swirls his tongue around your nipple, his teeth biting down gently before he kisses your nipple, smiling against your skin when you twitch.

Caleb’s fingers slide over your stomach, his teeth scraping across your skin. You whimper when he settles between your thighs finally, trying to reach down to run your fingers through your hair only to be reminded of the fact that you’ve been tied up.

“Hands to yourself, honey,” he reminds you, his eyes twinkling with amusement when you pout.

“Jerk,” you murmur, head tipping back when his breath ghosts over your puffy folds, his fingers spreading you open.

“Think you like that about me,” Caleb mumbles, swallowing at the sight of your wet pussy, letting out a strained breath, “‘s pretty, baby. Really fucking pretty.”

You flush, pussy clenching when he licks over your clit, thighs twitching. Caleb’s fingers wrap around your thighs, placing them over his broad shoulders, his mouth opening wider. Tongue sliding through your folds, he laps at your cunt obscenely, your eyes squeezing shut at the sensation.

He thinks he could die a happy man when you squeeze your thighs around his head, his mouth wrapping around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against the swollen bud.

Caleb’s name spills out of your mouth repeatedly in a pleading chant, tears pricking at your eyes when he digs his fingers into your thighs roughly. It all feels so good, his mouth on you, the tight grip he has on as though you might just disappear out from under you if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

You blink down at him when Caleb pulls away to lick his lips, his mouth and chin glistening with your slick and his spit, his gaze heady. A whimper leaves you when he bites your inner thigh, over the marks Xavier left, his teeth imprinted into your skin as you surrender yourself to him.

Caleb decides it’s not enough, pressing a kiss to your clit before he’s moving you to flip onto your back, your scarf twisting with you.

“Get on your knees, baby,” he rasps, tapping your hips.

You do your best, face shoved into the pillows as you squirm up onto your knees, feeling slightly mortified when Caleb spreads you apart, his hands kneading at your asscheeks.

“Don’t- don’t do that,” you whine, body jerking forward when Caleb runs his tongue through your folds unexpectedly.

“You’re shy now?” he laughs softly, biting into the fat of your ass playfully.

You ignore him, too busy moaning into the pillows when Caleb rubs your clit, his face pressing between your thighs, nose pressing up against your pussy. A sharp gasp leaves you, hips rocking back, trying to grind against the bridge of his nose while his tongue joins his fingers, lapping over your swollen clit.

“Caleb,” you mewl, hands gripping onto the railing of his headboard, the wool of your scarf rubbing against your wrists, “nghhh- ah- you’re so-”

“Charming?” he offers.

You let out a strangled laugh, squeaking when his hand comes down on your ass. He spanks you again, and you make a noise in protest, trying to crawl away, except you have nowhere to go, the scarf fastened enough to prevent you. It’s all too much when his tongue presses into your aching cunt, a cry escaping you as Caleb fucks his tongue in and out of you.

He squeezes your thigh harshly and your movements grow more desperate, trying to sway your hips back when his mouth latches onto you clit again, the press of his nose too much to handle.

“Gonna cum?” Caleb asks, his voice a low growl, “huh, baby? Gonna cum on my fucking tongue?”

“Y- yes!” you squeal, your knees giving out under you when he shoves his tongue back into your cunt, fucking it in and out of you. “Oh fuck, Caleb- oh fuck!”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he growls, his fingers rubbing at your clit fast and with just enough pressure that you give a trembling cry of his name, slumping down against the sheets as your thighs twitch uncontrollably, panting raggedly to try and catch your breath, toes curling in delirium.

Caleb loosens the scarf binding your wrists when he sees you struggling to move, his cock smearing pre-cum across your thighs and stomach as he turns you over, lips slotting over yours in a desperate kiss.

He’s picking you up soon after, chasing after your lips when you pull away to catch your breath, capturing them again, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Caleb’s kisses are messy, spit leaking out from the sides of your mouth as he settles you onto his lap, his hands running up and down your sides soothingly.

“Can’t- can’t breathe,” you complain, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Caleb grumbles his displeasure under his breath before his eyes catch sight of your reddened wrists. Letting out a sigh, he grabs one of them, fingers running over your wrist gently, lifting it up to his lips to press soft kisses.

“You okay?” he murmurs, reaching for your other wrist, repeating his ministrations. “Was it too much?”

“No,” you say quietly, kissing his jaw, “it was good. I- I um- enjoyed it.”

Caleb smiles when you meet his eyes, his lips pressing up against the pads of your fingers. You smile back, feeling a little shy despite everything. He tucks your messy hair behind your ear, his touch skimming down your throat fleetingly.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he confesses, letting out a heavy breath, his head tipping back to rest against the headboard.

“I’m here,” you whisper, feeling unsure about what else to say, your fingers playing with his dog tags, bringing them up towards you to kiss the small, metal plates.

Caleb’s expression softens as he watches you, his heart thudding in his chest.

“I’m yours, Caleb,” you continue, kissing him sweetly. “See?”

You reach out, fingers sliding under his silver chain to lift it up over his head before you place it around his neck. The metal chimes softly, his dog tags settling between your breasts.

Caleb nearly cums at the sight. You know exactly how to rile him up, know exactly what to do to make him feel like a lovesick fool. He stares down at you, his adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows, fingers flexing against your hips.

You look so sweet, so soft, perched atop his lap delicately. He doesn’t know what to say when you peer up at him, feeling short of breath when you lean forward to kiss his cheek gently. Caleb’s fingers reach out to graze his dog tags, the cool metal grounding him at least for a moment.

“I hate how you make me feel,” he murmurs finally, hands smoothing over your sides, dragging you closer, groaning softly when your breasts squish up against his chest.

“Sorry?” you offer meekly, biting your lip when he squeezes the fat of your ass.

“Don’t be,” Caleb sighs, his forehead pressing against yours.

He kisses you gently, lips smacking against yours in the quiet of his bedroom. You rock your hips, pussy sliding over the length of his cock. Caleb grunts into your mouth, lifting you up, his hands grasping you under your thighs while you mewl, hand grasping his cock to line him up against your entrance.

“Caleb,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut when he sinks you down slowly onto his cock, nails scratching his pecs at the feeling of him stretching you out, his cock thick enough to have you feeling like you’re being split open.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he whispers, “doing so good for me. Taking my cock so well, yeah?”

You nod, still scrabbling at his chest, whining when he sinks you down onto the entire length of his cock, your pussy trying to accommodate his size. Caleb smiles against your cheek, kneading at your hips, muttering soft words of encouragement.

Your eyes meet his, hands sliding over his shoulders to let your arms wrap around his neck. Caleb leans back, resting against the headboard as you shuffle on his lap to get more comfortable, beginning to roll your hips.

“Good girl,” Caleb says hoarsely, “just like that, baby. Take your time.”

Spreading your legs to set a wider base, you rise up before dropping your hips back down, making Caleb groan when he feels you beginning to bounce on his cock, his eyes fluttering shut. You bite your lip at the sight, arms tightening around his neck, fucking yourself on his cock, gasping when you feel his cock twitch.

You think you might feel him in your stomach, his cock so fat and thick that it has your cunt clenching in quick succession in an attempt to readjust with every rise and fall of your hips. Caleb’s dog tags jingle with every bounce of you on his lap, his head dropping forward to rest against your shoulder, his teeth scraping across your shoulder.

“Wanna feel you fuck me full,” you mumble, nuzzling against his jaw, “please?”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, “you wanna be bred, sweetheart? Wanna have my baby?”

“Mhm,” you nod eagerly, sending him a drunken smile when he stares down at you.

Caleb’s fingers hook into the chain around your neck, tugging you closer until you’re moaning against his mouth, his darkened eyes watch the bounce and sway of your tits as you fuck yourself on his cock.

“Good fucking girl,” Caleb grunts, “ride my cock, sweetheart. Gonna fill you to the fucking brim.”

His words are obscene, his teeth biting at your lower lip, fingers pinching at your nipples until you’re writhing on his lap. You squeak when he wraps his hands around your waist, letting out a sharp gasp when he picks you up as though you weigh nothing and slams you down onto the length of his cock.

“C- Caleb! ‘s too much!” you wail, nails scratching down his back, unable to meet his eyes properly, not when he’s using you, taking you like you’re nothing but a ragdoll.

“No,” Caleb snaps, “it’s not too much; fucking take it.”

You squeal when he bites your breast, hands flailing for purchase, trying to grab out for something, anything, but it’s hard when he’s fucking you onto his cock like this, your hands landing on his shoulders briefly. The clank of his dog tags is drowned out by the sounds of his balls slapping against you, the lewd noises of his cock thrusting in and out of your clenching pussy.

“Do you like me?”

“Wh- what?” you manage out, lashes fluttering rapidly as you try to blink clearly.

“Do you like me?” Caleb asks, his voice hoarse and raspy, enough to have you clenching around his cock. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond. “Say yes,” he breathes out, pressing his chest more firmly against yours, as though trying to meld your bodies together.

You feel lightheaded and short of breath when his fingers shift, pressing into your lower stomach. His voice turns into something softer, something more pleading. “Say yes, sweetheart.”

“Y- yes,” you hiccup, heart fluttering in your chest, “I- I like you Caleb.”

“Again,” he demands, nose brushing against yours, his lips hovering above yours.

“I like you,” you say breathlessly, kissing his jaw, “like you so much, Caleb. Wanna be bred, please- please cum inside.” You don’t exactly why you utter the next words, but you figure Caleb ought to be into that sort of thing, the power trip it gives him when he’s clinging to control. “Please, Colonel?”

“Oh my- fuck!” Caleb swears sharply, and you can feel his hips jerk, his grip on you faltering when you call him by his title. “You little minx- fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Sorry,” you whine, smiling against his mouth, pawing at his thick pecs, tongue licking over his lips. “‘m sorry, Colonel. Just- just wanna have your baby.”

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” Caleb groans loudly, fingers dimpling the flesh of your hips, “‘m gonna fill this pretty pussy up, sweetheart.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, feeling beyond fucked out, your head a swirl of Caleb, and Caleb only, unable to register anything other than the feeling of his cock snug inside your cunt, the cool metal of his dog tags against your skin, his mouth on yours.

“Ah-” Caleb whines, high and broken, the sound enough to make your back arch, nails digging into his chest.

He manages to fuck you on his cock a few more times, his hands pushing at your hips until your pussy hugs the entirety of his cock, your ass snug against his balls. Caleb moans into your ear, panting and whining as he cums, his cock twitching inside of you as hot spurts of cum spill out, filling you up.

You twitch atop him, the walls of your cunt fluttering around him, eyes squeezing shut as you feel your own orgasm wash over you.

Caleb clicks his tongue when you try to squirm off of him, rubbing his hands over your thighs when you complain about the ache settling in your muscles.

“Stay,” he whispers, kissing your temple, “gotta make sure it takes.”

A few minutes later, you curl up into his side when he lays you down gently, his hand rubbing over your side soothingly. Only the sounds of your breathing fill his room, Caleb’s fingers stroking across you gently. Your lips meet his when he lowers his head, sighing when he squeezes your thighs, massaging them gently.

“We don’t have to do it twice,” he whispers, “I was just- it was the heat of the moment.”

You stare at him, taking in the softness in his eyes, your head tilting to nuzzle into his palm when he strokes his thumb across your cheek. It’s against the rules, you remind yourself, and yet fifteen years… the number is enough to make your stomach flip.

“Did you mean it?” you ask quietly, your fingers tracing across his chest, over the ridges and dips of his muscles.

Caleb lets out a low sigh, his eyes fluttering shut. “Every word, sweetheart.”

There’s a long stretch of silence and Caleb presses his nose into your hair, his eyes opening when he hears the clink of metal. You give him a shy smile, leg swinging over his hip as you straddle him.

The man under you groans softly when you roll your hips, his eyes raptly watching the gentle sway of his dog tags between your breasts. The soft, sweet sentence that you utter next has Caleb closing his eyes in a silent prayer. You truly were going to drive him to madness.

“Better make up for lost time, Colonel.”

Caleb has never seen you more disarmed than when you’re asleep.

He supposes it’s a bit creepy to stare at you while you’re sleeping, but he can’t help it, having been stirred awake by a cramp in his leg. His fingers ghost across the curve of your cheek, careful not to wake you, an uncomfortable ache piercing through his heart.

If only he could keep you here with him.

But Caleb knows how stubborn you are, and he knows the rules of this little scheme that he agreed to, even if they are stupid and he’s already broken one of them. He stiffens when you stir, a smile pulling at his lips when drool slips out the side of your mouth, your body squirming as you roll over onto your back.

When he catches a glimpse of your marked neck, his irritation flares again, lips thinning. Caleb supposes he is driven by jealousy, there’s no point in denying it, not when the ugly head of envy rears his head and he finds his vision tinted with a hue of green that makes it difficult to think clearly.

His fingers are curling over your thigh gently, prying your legs apart carefully, his breath catching in his throat when he sees his cum smeared between your thighs and all over your pussy. Messy, he thinks, lowering his head to kiss your hip affectionately.

The flash of his phone camera isn’t bright enough to wake you up. Caleb stifles a groan at the picture, trying to will away the throb in his cock, his gaze entranced by the image of your messy pussy, covered and filled up with two loads of his cum.

Just like how it should be, he thinks belatedly. Caleb would make it his lockscreen if it wasn’t so intimate.

His fingers tap across his screen, finding Xavier’s number. There’s no need for unnecessary texts. The image is sent, Caleb’s lips pulling up into a sneer at the thought of the silver-haired man.

Caleb tosses his phone onto his bedside table, wrapping his arms around, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead, humming softly as you curl up into his arms, snuggling closer as you seek out his warmth. The soft sounds of his clinking dog tags catch his attention.

Caleb decides he’ll need to get an extra one stamped.

One with your name.

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