#come get your tall dark and asshole

[gureumz]

liar, sweetheart

rating: explicit

member: sunghoon

premise: your best friend, benj, is a twin but he's the complete opposite of his brother. his brother, sunghoon, is all kinds of sleazy, or so you've heard. knowing about your big fat crush on your best friend, this sorry excuse of a twin brother agrees to put in a good word, in exchange for a good fuck, of course.

notes: fem!reader, dom!sunghoon, sort of rivals-to-lovers, unprotected sex, slight breeding, dacryphilia, dirty talk, degradation, praise, clothed sex, accidental voyeurism, sunghoon is two people here lmao, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: fifth entry for my 1k follower special! we're in the endgame now, people. one last after this and my 1k event is ending. how did that happen :') anyways, i really got back into my writing groove for this one so i hope you all enjoy!

"what do you think of sunghoon?"

your ears perk up as you turn your head to give your best friend a look.

oh, benj. sweet, sweet benjamin park.

awkward but in a cute, boyish sort of way, tall almost to the point of gangly, but handsome in the way supermodels were.

benj is a figure skater, a very good one at that. he's at the level where if he did well enough, he'd be international news tomorrow. you've seen him skate and to you, it was nothing short of mesmerizing.

oh, you. clueless, utterly clueless you.

honestly, it was all so predictable.

a situation right out of booktok's latest favorite friends-to-lovers novel by some up-and-coming author. the comfortable silence, the memorized starbucks orders, the pining, oh, the pining. booktok lives for the pining.

sitting here in benj's room as he casually games, fingers lazily moving over his ps5 controller, you realize just how utterly shortsighted you were.

of course you'd fall in love with your best friend. it's law. it's fate. a canon event, as the kids say.

but, you're getting out of topic here. right now, benj is asking you about his twin brother.

"what do you mean?" you ask, swiveling around in the office chair by benj's desk. benj is perched on his bed, leaned up against his headboard as he plays.

"like...what do you think of him...?" benj repeats, as if in an attempt to rephrase his question but ultimately failing.

your forehead creases even more.

"you have to be more specific than that," you chuckle.

benj pauses the game, setting the controller down. he shifts on his side so he can get a better look at you.

"do you like him?" benj deadpans, raising an eyebrow.

you nearly choke on your own saliva.

sunghoon. benj's twin brother.

the younger twin, as benj always reminded. your thoughts drift to the other park brother, complete in all his dark clothes and equally dark hair.

while benj afforded himself the preference of dying his hair an icy blonde, sunghoon kept his own hair jet black. benj wore sweaters and cardigans and loose-fitting shirts, but sunghoon wore button-ups, with the first three buttons popped open, paired with jeans ripped to the heavens.

benj is the shining star in this family, a star figure skater, an overachiever. sunghoon battles his way around ice hockey, dabbles in dance, keeps his triumphs to himself.

benj is the sun, while sunghoon is the moon. yin and yang.

you get the picture.

oh, and sunghoon is a complete asshole. benj is not.

"he's okay," you finally answer. benj looks at you like he's waiting for more.

"that's it?" benj asks after a second.

you roll your eyes. "i don't know what you want me to say. i barely talk to him since i spend most of my time with you."

benj cocks his head to the side, as if curious.

"weird," he says. "he asks about you all the time."

this piques your interest.

"he does?"

benj shrugs, returning his attention to the tv. he picks the forgotten controller back up, resuming his game.

"yeah. asks if and when you'll be coming over," benj explains. he shoots you a quick side glance.

"you're not hooking up behind my back, are you?"

you physically recoil at benj's words, the idea initially repulsive to you.

"absolutely not," you practically spit out. "he's not my type."

benj bursts out laughing, his eyes forming cute crescents as he does so.

"you basically just called me ugly with that," benj points out, eyes unmoving from the tv screen.

you stutter for a second. "that's not what i meant. it's just—well we're not close, at least not like how we are and—"

you sigh, cutting yourself off. you've embarrassed yourself enough, you think.

benj shakes his head, one side of his mouth turning up in a half-smile.

"okay, no need to explain, ______. i was just asking," benj says. "but the way you're so defensive about it is raising a few questions, not gonna lie."

you rub exasperatedly at your temples.

"i am not sleeping with your brother."

---

"hey."

you nearly jump a foot back in surprise. looking up, you're met with the stern gaze of sunghoon, black hair falling over his eyes. he's wearing one of those compression shirts, ridiculously tight against his toned upper body.

you turn away before it gets weird.

"oh, sorry, is benj home?" you ask, peeking momentarily past sunghoon.

"he's at training," sunghoon informs. "didn't he tell you?"

you glance at your watch. "he said he'd be done by now."

sunghoon raises an eyebrow. "well, he's not."

your mouth falls open, your mind momentarily going blank. you shift your expression to one of stony resolve.

"you know what, i'll just come back. sorry to bother you," you say, already turning away.

"i didn't tell you to leave, did i?"

you turn back, giving sunghoon a look. you stare hard, noticing just how much he resembles benj. but some things differ, naturally.

an extra beauty mark. the slightly sharper upturn of his nose. the seemingly eternal frown on his face.

"you can come in," sunghoon says with a sigh, stepping aside. you duck your head as you cross the threshold.

"and don't be so uptight next time," he adds. you can practically hear the smirk as he says this.

you glare daggers at sunghoon and he's still smiling as he closes the door behind him. he crosses his arms and studies you.

he leans back against the door and you straighten yourself up as much as you could.

"what's your problem, sunghoon?" you ask, planting your hands on your hips.

"what's yours?" sunghoon replies. you feel a twinge of annoyance spark in your chest.

"nothing," you emphasize. "and that's exactly it. i don't have a problem but if you don't stop acting like that, i might just have one soon enough."

"acting like what?" sunghoon questions, tilting his head to the side.

you swallow. you rack your brain for something to say, and don't be mistaken, you have a lot, but it's like your train of thought has halted altogether.

"like...that," you say, gesticulating vaguely with your hands.

sunghoon laughs, a hand coming up to run through his hair. you watch him, observe as his muscles shift beneath that stupidly tight, stupidly attractive shirt.

...what?

"are you this jumpy with my brother?" sunghoon asks, shoving his hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants.

"i don't follow," you say, taking a step back. being close to sunghoon seems suffocating now, as if the air is stuffy with something you can't quite put your finger on.

"of course, you don't," sunghoon mutters under his breath.

it takes everything in you not to punch him square in the jaw.

"you like benj, don't you?" it's more of a statement rather than a question and it's so unexpected to you, you nearly stumble back in surprise.

"what?" is all you can say.

sunghoon snorts as if your confusion is oh-so-amusing.

"no need to deny it, _______," sunghoon reassures. "everyone with one working eye can see it."

you decide to stay silent. maybe if you don't react, sunghoon would drop the subject.

sunghoon seems satisfied with himself as he grins, nodding to himself, probably mentally patting himself on the back for his 'detective work'. he brushes past you and you get a whiff of his perfume and what you can assume is his body wash.

fresh. powdery. clean.

you wait a second before you hear his bedroom door close.

you let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding.

your phone vibrates with a notification and you're relieved to see it's a message from benj.

'are you at my place yet? i'll be home in a few. sunghoon will let you in. sorry, love u!'

you smile to yourself as you lock your phone.

---

you couldn't stop thinking about it.

were you really that obvious? or is it just some twin telepathy that's why sunghoon could tell? could benj tell?

you sit up, careful not to jostle anything in your immediate vicinity. you peer up at benj's sleeping figure from where you're situated on his spare mattress, positioned on the floor right next to his bed.

he seems to be deep in slumber, shoulders rising and falling steadily. you swallow, realizing how parched your throat has gotten. you get up on your feet, treading carefully around benj's room to get to the door.

you exit, walking down the hallway of the parks' penthouse apartment, trying to make as minimal sound as you can. you round the corner to where you know the kitchen is and you immediately stop in your tracks.

"shit—" you curse, startled by the figure standing by the kitchen island.

your eyes adjust to the dim lighting and you realize you've come face to face with sunghoon.

"hi, _______," sunghoon greets. "fancy seeing you here."

you huff, approaching the refrigerator. "ha ha. you scared the shit out of me."

you hear sunghoon laugh quietly from behind you.

you take the ice-cold pitcher out of the fridge, setting it on the counter before walking over to the cupboards where the parks keep their glasses.

you can feel sunghoon watching you, aware of the burning attention. you can feel your neck prickle with it.

you pull the cupboard door open and it's only now that you realize you can barely see. afraid to just reach in and possibly knock over and break something, you pause, willing your vision to adjust even more to the low lighting.

"hey, can you turn on the—"

your words are cut off when you feel warmth press up against your back. you flinch, watching with wide eyes as sunghoon's arm braces itself against the countertop in front of you. he reaches over you, his breath tickling the top of your head.

you shiver involuntarily.

you turn to face him, pressing yourself fully against the granite behind you. sunghoon pulls a glass down from the cupboard, handing it to you. his arm is still planted firmly to your side, half caging you in.

"here," sunghoon says.

you can just make out his face in the low light, his scent invading your senses once more. you take the glass from him and he steps away, freeing you.

you wordlessly return to the center of the kitchen, pouring yourself the water you desperately need. and boy, do you need it.

you gulp down mouthfuls of it, unsure why your legs are suddenly weak, your knees threatening to give out.

"hey," sunghoon calls out. you pause, turning to where he's still standing by the cupboards.

he has the same easy stance he had earlier in the day. leaned back, arms crossed. even in the dark, you can feel him staring.

"what?" it comes out a little more harshly than you'd like and you wince.

"do you hate me or something?" sunghoon asks brusquely.

once again, you find yourself rendered speechless by sunghoon.

"no," you answer simply, setting your glass down.

"then why don't you hang out with me like you do with benj?" sunghoon asks, approaching you.

"because benj is my best friend, you're not," you respond. sunghoon stops right in front of you and you have to crane your neck to meet where you think his eyes are.

"your best friend that you're in love with," sunghoon says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"that's not true," you deny.

sunghoon snickers. "sure, keep lying to yourself, sweetheart."

you inhale at the term of endearment.

"you know, i never understood why you got closer to him but you stopped spending time with me altogether," sunghoon muses. "the three of us grew up together, remember?"

you do.

the afternoons spent in the local playground. you and benj sat on the swings while sunghoon pushed. you and sunghoon on the seesaw while benj attempted to balance in the middle (much to their mother's horror). the twins hiding while you played seeker.

a smile tugs at your lips at the memory. and then it falters just as quick.

"you were the one who stopped hanging out with us," you say, a little accusatory in the way you did. "you had newer ice hockey friends and when middle school rolled around, you decided those girls were worth your time more than us."

'more than me,' is what you wanted to say. but you swallow it down.

sunghoon stays silent at this. after what you estimate is a minute, he sighs.

"sorry," is all he says.

you shake your head. "it's okay, we all drift apart from our childhood friends at one point."

sunghoon steps even closer. you can feel him now. a strange crackle of electricity tickles your fingertips.

"that's not the case with you and benj," sunghoon observes.

it's your turn to say nothing.

"i can help you," sunghoon suggests. your head snaps up as you try to process sunghoon's words.

you can see him now, illuminated by the faint hallway lights behind you. sunghoon's looking at you, expression unreadable.

"help me?" you parrot back. sunghoon nods.

"i can help you get with benj, if that's what you want. plant the seeds, so to speak," sunghoon explains. "he is my twin brother, after all."

you consider this for a moment. there's no denying the giddy feeling you get in benj's presence. the comfort it gives you when you spend the whole day together. the butterflies in your stomach when he beams at you, all bright and shining.

this should be an offer you can't refuse.

"i just have one thing to ask of you," sunghoon cuts through your thoughts.

"what?" you ask.

sunghoon pauses, turning away as if gathering his own words.

"do you ever feel that there's this weird...thing between us?" sunghoon asks.

your whole body seems to stiffen. your hands turn cold, clammy.

"like tension," sunghoon elaborates. "something you can't really explain."

"no," you answer a little too quickly.

sunghoon chuckles. "there you go again, lying."

you avoid sunghoon's gaze, staring hard at a spot behind him where his shadow dances against the cabinets.

"if you agree to...try this thing with me just this once, i'll help you get together with benj," sunghoon concludes, bending lower so he's in your line of sight.

unable to avoid him any longer, you look into sunghoon's eyes. he's much clearer now, your eyes well-adjusted to the dark. he's looking at you, expression soft, unlike the other times you've come face-to-face with him.

"so, you're offering to be my wingman, but only if i let you fuck me?" you string your words out carefully. "is that it?"

sunghoon sighs, shrugging. "basically, yeah. sounds fucking weird but you can always say no."

"it is weird," you confirm. you cross your arms as you narrow your eyes at sunghoon.

"can't we just skip the part where we fuck and go straight to the part where you help me?"

sunghoon grins down at you, dipping even lower so you're eye level with him.

"it's as if you don't know me at all, _______," sunghoon says lowly. "that hardly seems fair, sweetheart."

you grit your teeth.

"besides, do you want to skip the part where we fuck?" sunghoon presses on the last word, holding your gaze as he said it. you feel a warmth spread all over your body.

you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. your mind is at war with itself, warning you that this is a bad idea. if you get together with benj after, what then? take the secret that you fucked his brother to your grave?

"just this once, and when we're done, you'll help me, correct?" you say, raising a brow at sunghoon.

sunghoon nods. "exactly."

you pause. you want it. what 'it' is, you're not so sure.

you reach your hand out.

"deal."

sunghoon grasps your hand in his, squeezing firmly. his fingers envelop yours easily, your palm almost cartoonishly smaller than his.

and he's warm. so warm.

your eyes meet his and it's like something snaps.

you feel sunghoon grasp at your waist and your own arms come flying up to wrap around sunghoon's neck. he kisses you fervently, harshly, desperately. you respond with the same enthusiasm, pulling him closer to you.

sunghoon pushes you against the fridge, the contents rattling within. you gasp as the cold metal presses through your thin pajamas, but sunghoon drinks in any noise from you with his mouth.

"fuck," sunghoon mutters softly.

"god, ______," sunghoon continues, hands splayed against your back, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck.

"sunghoon," you whisper, clutching onto his wide frame. you mewl softly when you feel him suckle on a spot just above your collarbone.

you pull sunghoon away from your neck, guiding his face back to level with yours. you kiss him some more, a strange feeling bubbling within you.

it's making you want more of sunghoon, as if your whole being craved him.

you hear a soft click of a door opening somewhere down the hall and your eyes fly open, your hands forcing sunghoon off you. he jumps back as well, a panicked look on his face.

footsteps echo in the hallway and a voice immediately follows after.

"_______?"

benj. it's benj. his voice is thick with sleep and you look over at sunghoon, eyes wide with alarm.

"i-i'm in the kitchen," you call out. "just needed a drink."

you rush out of the kitchen and into the hall, running right into benj's firm chest. he catches you before you stumble and he holds you at arm's length, looking at you through half-closed eyes.

"there you are," benj says with a laugh.

you let out a nervous giggle of your own, gently pushing benj back towards his room.

"i'm right here," you assure him. benj rambles on about hearing noises from his room and you quickly dismiss it as you just messing around in their kitchen.

just as you herd benj back into his room, you look back down the hall and see sunghoon sauntering casually towards his own door. he catches your eye and winks, stepping quietly into his room.

---

"i know what you were doing last night."

you stop dead in your tracks, hand frozen in midair just as you're unwrapping your hair from your towel.

you had just stepped out of the bathroom adjacent to benj's room, dressed in his shirt and your shorts from yesterday. it's the morning after your little tryst with sunghoon and you were nearly a hundred percent sure you had successfully lied your way out of an explanation to benj.

it turns out, you haven't.

"you were hooking up with sunghoon, weren't you?" benj says, looking at you expectantly.

you put on your best attempt at an appalled expression, eyes wide an lips turning down into a frown.

"no, i wasn't," you muster up with as much disgust as you can.

benj just laughs. "i've lived here for nearly half my life, ____. i know the sounds of this house better than you."

"well, you thought wrong," you argue, busying yourself with brushing through your hair. you keep your eyes trained on the full body mirror in front of you, setting your sight on your own face.

benj comes up behind you, looking at you as if he could see right through you.

you think maybe he can.

"you're such a bad liar," benj accuses.

"i would never hook up with your brother," you protest, raking through your hair aggressively. you're getting antsy and you pray that benj would just drop the subject.

"why not?" benj questions.

you look at his reflection, scowling. "i don't like him like that, benj."

"hooking up with him would feel like hooking up with you," you add. 'a red herring, yes,' you think. 'distract him, make him feel weird for even asking.'

benj gives you a look. "what's so bad about that?"

you stare open-mouthed at benj. a million thoughts are flying through your head and something pinches at your chest.

"you're my best friend, benj," you try to reason. "that's weird."

"and hooking up with my brother isn't?"

you groan, letting your head fall into your hands.

"i didn't hook up with sunghoon!"

benj nods, pouting as if not fully convinced. "okay, whatever you say."

he steps out through the door, leaving you in his eerily quiet room.

you sigh, turning back to your reflection.

"not yet," you whisper to yourself.

---

"aren't you leaving yet?"

you look up from your phone and you're met with sunghoon peeking through benj's door. his hair is damp and you can smell his aftershave from where you're sprawled out on benj's bed.

"nope," you reply curtly, turning back to your phone.

"you've been here two days," sunghoon points out, stepping into the room. you ignore the jolt of excitement in your gut.

"i'll leave once benj comes back from training," you say.

"oh sure, then the two of you will get caught up again in whatever nerd things you do, and then it's the evening and you'll stay another night, walking around in your skimpy pajamas," sunghoon rambles sarcastically.

you narrow your eyes him as you sit up. "what's wrong with my pajamas?"

"they make me impossibly hard, _______. that's what's wrong," sunghoon admits, expression unchanging.

your eyebrows shoot up in mild surprise. "that down bad, huh?"

"nah," sunghoon replies nonchalantly.

"whatever you say, sweetheart," you say, throwing the pet name back at sunghoon.

sunghoon lets his eyes travel over your body, expression darkening, and you feel every hair on your skin stand up under his unrelenting gaze. you shift around, unsure of what to do with sunghoon's undivided attention.

you watch as sunghoon approaches, his jaw set as he pauses right before benj's bed. he meets your eyes and before you know it, sunghoon is crawling over you, stopping once he has you caged in between his arms.

"you're seriously not thinking of fucking me on your twin brother's bed, are you?" you whisper. you're nearly nose to nose with sunghoon now.

"i am," sunghoon answers simply before kissing you, effectively driving you back against the plush mattress.

the same bubbling feeling reappears and you grab at any part of sunghoon that you can, hooking your legs around his waist. he grunts against your mouth and you feel him harden against your core.

"this is my shirt by the way," sunghoon grins against your lips. "benj stole it from me a while back."

you moan at the thought of it. you feel sunghoon reach under your—his—shirt, chuckling when he feels the absence of a bra. he cups one of your breasts in his hand, kneading as he continues his assault on your lips.

"lose this," sunghoon commands, his other hand tugging your shorts down harshly. you oblige, reaching down to discard the piece of clothing along with your underwear.

"but keep this on," sunghoon adds as he kisses along your jaw, referring to the large shirt swallowing your frame.

you kick off your shorts and underwear the same time sunghoon pulls back to undo his own joggers. he throws them off to the side unceremoniously before hovering back over you, his eyes scanning every feature of your face.

"if you're so in love with benj, why are you about to sleep with me on his bed?" sunghoon asks, his fingers trailing down delicately from your chest down to your stomach. you flinch, fighting the urge to curl into yourself at the ticklish feeling.

sunghoon continues down towards the space between your legs, wasting no time swiping through your folds. you gasp, back arching as sunghoon rubs up and down, finger circling teasingly around your entrance.

"you talk too much," you counter, voice shaking. "are you gonna fuck my brains out or what?"

sunghoon sneers, shoving two fingers in without warning. you yelp, turning to bury your face in benj's pillow. it smells like him, but you barely register that, seeing as his twin's fingers are knuckles deep in you.

"go on, run your mouth like you always do, slut," sunghoon taunts. you involuntarily clench down at his use of such a degrading word and sunghoon notices, of course, his mouth curling into a smirk.

"should have known you were into that," sunghoon wonders out loud. he moves his fingers in and out of you, pumping his thick digits into your wanting hole.

you clamp a hand down on your mouth, suppressing every noise that threatens to escape you.

"let me hear you, pretty, come on," sunghoon coos, prying your hand off your face. "it's just the two of us here."

you bite your lip but let yourself be heard as sunghoon continues to fuck you with his fingers. he curls them up inside you and you thrash about, the pressure building within your abdomen.

"gonna cum already? you're so fucking easy," sunghoon comments, leveling his face with your cunt. he blows softly against your clit and you cry out in pleasure.

you feel the wet heat of his tongue press against your bundle of nerves and coupled with sunghoon's fingers, you can't help but curse loudly at the sensations.

"shit, sunghoon!" you whine. "yes, just like that, please."

sunghoon wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and running his tongue over it alternately. you feel like you're about to lose your mind. you're seconds away from orgasm and you barely have any time to warn sunghoon.

"i'm gonna cum, sunghoon i'm gonna—"

you're cut short by your own loud moans as you feel yourself come undone, your whole body seizing up. you grip at the sheets beneath you with one hand while the other reaches down to thread through sunghoon's hair. you hear him grunt against your pussy as you tug at the strands.

eventually, you relax, easing up on sunghoon's hair. he comes up to face you, his mouth glistening with your release. he licks his lips, smirking at the way you watch him with awe.

"you still with me?" sunghoon asks with a raise of his brow. you nod weakly, hands coming up to cup at his face.

sunghoon leans down to kiss you tenderly and you moan as you taste yourself on his lips. he moves his lips against yours slowly, savoring each pass of your tongue over each other's, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away.

you peek down and see that sunghoon's cock stands red and angry against the black of his shirt.

"fuck me raw," you say before you can stop yourself.

sunghoon's eyebrows shoot up.

"are you sure?" he asks.

you nod, angling your hips up. restraint be damned, you want sunghoon and you want him now.

sunghoon chews down on his bottom lip as he lines himself up against your dripping hole. he coats his tip with your juices and you throw your head back as he teases you with his leaking cock.

"please," you whisper.

sunghoon presses a kiss on your cheek. "i got you, angel."

you feel him push in, stretching you out more than you anticipated. your mouth falls open in a silent moan as sunghoon slowly but surely bottoms out. your heart races and your mind loses all coherent thought. all you can register is that sunghoon feels like he's splitting you open with his dick.

"fuuuuck," sunghoon drawls into your ear.

"so fucking tight and so fucking good," he continues, bracing himself on either side of you. he moves his hips experimentally, pulling out then thrusting in and the two of you moan at the same time.

"give it to me," you pant, pulling sunghoon closer. "don't you dare hold back."

sunghoon grunts as he snaps his hips forward. you whine and moan like a whore as sunghoon fucks into you with reckless abandon. he keeps his eyes on your face, observing every expression that passes over your features.

"look at me," sunghoon orders as you let your eyes flutter close. "i said, look at me."

you obey, peering up at sunghoon through your lashes. he grabs your jaw as he hammers even harder into you. you cry out brokenly as you feel him deep within you. he's like a man starved, eyes wild as he takes you like this. rough and uncaring and oh so desperate.

"waited so long for this," sunghoon grunts. "to have you moaning and begging under me."

you feel tears prickle in your eyes, half from sunghoon's sharp nails digging into your cheek and half from the way his cock repeatedly punches against your cervix. it hurts but it's a pain you'd like to savor.

"god," sunghoon says, his face scrunching up in pleasure. he momentarily closes his eyes as he moves his hips even faster. he turns back to you, and by this time, your tears have escaped, streaking your face.

"fuck yeah, cry for me," sunghoon curses. "my pretty slut, weeping over my dick."

"oh, fuck—"

it came so suddenly, so unexpectedly that you can physically feel your body jolt. your second orgasm of the day rips through you, brought about by the filthy words escaping sunghoon's mouth. you hear him practically growl above you as he stills, your cunt clenching down so hard he's unable to move. you feel him twitch inside you and a second later, the warmth of his cum follows, shooting deep inside.

you're full-on crying now, mind hazy from pleasure as sunghoon catches himself before completely crushing you with his weight.

you wrap your shaky arms around sunghoon's shoulders, stroking his hair as the two of you calm yourselves down. sunghoon pulls out a minute later and you wince, immediately clamping your legs together to keep all of him inside you.

sunghoon plops down next to you, breathing heavy as his eyes stare at the ceiling. you hug your knees to your chest, hoping that nothing stains benj's sheets.

"fuck, that's a good girl, keeping all my cum in," sunghoon says through breathless chuckles. you groan, swatting at his chest.

"get tissues or something," you demand weakly, rolling over to your side. sunghoon pulls you close and cradles you against his chest.

"later," he murmurs, kissing you on the forehead. "just wanna hold you."

you hum in agreement, letting your eyes droop close. the two of you lay there, unmoving for a few minutes.

you initially think it's your imagination but you can hear faint footsteps coming down the hallway from outside benj's room. just as your eyes fly open, a loud knock thunders against the door.

"are you done?" comes benj's muffled voice from the other side.

"as much as i wanted to stay and watch, that might not be something you guys are into, so i gave you your privacy," he continues.

you and sunghoon look at each other, clearly panicking.

"but please, for the love of god, don't do it on my goddamn bed next time!"

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon smut #sunghoon scenarios #w: sunghoon

[redhead1180]

Sunshine

Pairing - dark!Rafe x pogue fem!reader

Summary - Reader has a crush on JJ, but JJ is dating Kie. Rafe decides he wants reader to get over JJ, no matter her say in the matter.

Words - 3k

Warnings MDNI - NON CON, DUB CON, drugging with E, slapping, physical fight (m vs f), dry humping, alcohol use, drug use, rough sex (p in v), degradation, blackmail, very dark Rafe.

A/N: This is my darkest piece I have ever wrote and of course it's for Rafe. He is mean SOB in this, so if that triggers you, please don't read. Thank you to @haven247 for the beta read. I am nervous about writing this dark, but hope you like it. PLEASE HEAD THE WARNINGS!

Being at a kook party was not your idea of fun, but they had free booze and it was better than a keggar. After the last week you’ve had, you have every intention of getting plastered and trying to forget your crush and best friend was dating someone else.

JJ your best friend since you were 4 and crush since you were 14, was officially dating Kie. And it hurt, a lot. You knew it was coming, saw the writing on the wall, but held out hope it wouldn’t. The only person who knew about the crush, that you knew of, was John B. He was your brother from another mother, and knew you inside and out. You three had been friends so long, you don’t remember a time when they weren’t there. John B has given you hug and told you he was sorry the day you saw them kissing through the Chateau window. He informed you they were dating and you had gone home and cried yourself to sleep. Avoiding them this past week, but couldn’t get around it for this party.

You had watched them dance, laugh, and make out, and were completely ready to vomit. Or wait, was they alcohol? I was in my 3rd concoction of the night and was not feeling much of anything. Well physically anyway.

Anyway, you were in the kitchen getting another drink, when you heard the last voice, you wanted to here.

“Well, well if it isn’t Miss Sunshine” Rafe Cameron sneered as he walked into the kitchen.

“Fuck off, Cameron” I told him, trying not to say more and start something.

“Anyone ever told you have a venomous mouth, Sunshine” he laughed.

“Only to you, Cameron. Everyone else thinks I am adorable and sweet” my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I bet you taste sweet” he chuckled. I turned around and caught him looking me up and down. He showed no shame for being caught. “What’s got you drowning in booze tonight? Wouldn’t have anything to do with Maybank and Carrera doing the horizontal mambo, would it?”

“You’re such an asshole, Cameron” You go to walk past him and he grabs your upper arm and pulls close to him.

“Most girls that talk to me the way you do get punished” he leered, inches from my face.

So, side note, when I drink, I think I am ten feet tall and bulletproof. And tonight was no exception.

“Let go of me you fucking psycho!” I hissed at him, pulling my arm. Unfortunately, he was so much stronger than me, my arm barely moved in his grasp. “I swear to God Rafe, I am not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.”

“Don’t call me psycho and I think I need to teach you some manners.” he growled right before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in to kiss him.

I instantly started pushing on him and struggling to get free. I bit his lip and he howled in pain and jerked back. I slapped him across the face, not caring this was Rafe Cameron, Kook Prince himself, and no one ever told him no.

He snapped his head back and I looked in his eyes. They were completely black, no amount of blue left, and had a predatory look that actually caused a little fear to creep up my spine. Something else, God help me, arousal shot through to my core and made me soak my panties.

I started to back away and with each step I took back, he took forward.

“Rafe just fucking walk away, leave me alone” I try to sound defiant and flippant, but not sure I pulled it off. His grin was pure evil, reminding me of every Disney villain I ever watched.

*Oh Sunshine, you really shouldn’t have done that” he smirked. I turn to run and get one of the pogues, but he grabs me by my waist and turns me around to throw me over his shoulder.

“You psychotic motherfucker, put me down!” I yell as I punch his back as hard as I can. He just grunts and slaps my ass hard, bringing tears to my eyes and more arousal to leak out of me. My mind was telling me to fight because you hate him, but my body was yelling at me to let him have his way.

He takes you to some room, locks the door, and proceeds to throw you on the bed. He immediately grabs both your wrists and roughly jerks them above your head, causing you to arch your back from the roughness and your tits rub against his chest. The lace bra you wear offered little protection from the friction and instantly your nipples hardened. Rafe chuckles as his free hand rubs over my breasts and pinches my nipples.

“You may not want this, but your body does” he chuckles as his hand slides down over my stomach and to the waistband of my shorts. I continue to struggle, he slaps my bare thigh, causing me to gasp. I know if I looked down right now, there would be a red hand print.

“You’re a feisty thing, maybe we should get you a little more pliant.” He threatens.

I see him reach in the pocket of his shorts, but don’t see anything in his hand when he pulls it out.

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” I demand trying to keep the worry out of my voice.

“Just a little something to make you enjoy it more.” He smirks as he places a pill on his tongue and grabs my jaw to look at him.

“Open up, Sunshine” he murmurs as leans in to kiss me.

I try to shut my mouth, but the hold he has on my jaw won’t let me. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I feel the pill begin to dissolve as he devours my mouth. God he is a good kisser, I can’t stop myself as I whine in the kiss, causing him to moan. He held my jaw until the pill was fully dissolved, then he lets go, but we continued to kiss. Fuck, what was I doing, this was Rafe, I should be biting his fucking tongue off, yet I didn’t want the kiss to stop. He finally pulls away when air became a necessity.

“What the fuck did you give me, Rafe?” I pant, still trying to catch my breath from the kiss.

“Aww Sunshine, it’s just a little E to make you forget your troubles and help me fuck you without the feistiness.” He smiles down at me. I start to struggle again and hurt him in some fashion. His hold on my wrists and him between my legs really left me defenseless, and he knew it.

“Now let’s get rid of these clothes.” He grabs the neckline of my shirt and rips it down the middle. I screech from shock, and he continues ripping till it is off me.

“Oh Sunshine, you have some beautiful tits.” He groans as he leans down and latches his lips on one of my nipples. I gasp out from pleasure as he sucks, nibbles and licks my nipples through my bra. Thousands of jolts of delight ripple through my body to my core. I began to feel a zing of energy and mixing that with pleasure, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips up into Rafe.

“That’s it baby, let the drug begin to work. Let me make you feel good and forget Maybank for tonight.” He murmurs as he continues his assault on my tits, his mouth on one and his hand, pulling and pinching the other.

“More” I whimper to him, trying to get more friction. He reached behind me undoing my bra and let go of my wrists, I moved my arms so he can get off. My hands fly into his hair to push more into my chest. He grinds down on me and I groan, I feel the heat build in my stomach.

I have a slight moment of clarity, where I thought what the fuck am I doing, when Rafe rolls his hips and the tip of cock hits the seam in my shorts just right to rub my clit and I see stars. I moan out as I squeeze my eyes shut and let my orgasm wash over me.

“Fuck Sunshine, when was the last time you came?” he chuckles, reaching down to unbutton my shorts and take them off. He stands up, using the opportunity of me in a blissful state, to rid himself of his clothes. I look over to him and see his cock saluting me. My eyes wide at how big he was.

“Shit Rafe, I don’t know what you plan to do with that monstrosity, but it ain’t fitting in me.” I say in wonder.

“I’ll make it fit,” he said as he spread my legs and slapped my pussy. I yelped, still sensitive from my release, but it caused a wildfire to spread through my veins. He slapped it a few more times, rendering me a whiny mess. I tried to hide my face, ashamed at how he was making me feel. I knew the E was mainly to blame, but a part of me knew it wasn’t all the drugs.

“Oh, don’t be shy now” Rafe taunted as he pulled my hands from face and roughly kissing me.

Distracted by his kiss, I didn’t notice he lined his cock up to enter me. He shoved it in my soaked pussy and I screamed in his mouth. The pain and burn from his stretching without prep was almost unbearable. Instantly, tears formed in my eyes and I pulled my mouth free.

“FUCK!” I cried out “Rafe, get out, pull out, it hurts so bad!” I cry but he continues to snap his hips into me, even though I was pushing on his stomach.

“Shut the fuck up and take it.” He growled as he grabbed my arm and jerked it above my head, slamming into me faster. I was whimpering, crying mess underneath him. He continued to pound into me, hitting my cervix, lips taking what they wanted from my lips down to my breasts.

“I’ll have you forgetting Maybank after tonight and you’ll only want my cock in this pussy. You’re mine now, Sunshine” he rasped in my ear.

“I hate you” I hissed at him.

Eventually the pain began to be replaced by pleasure, my cries turning into moans as I felt my core heat up and the band began to tighten.

“You keep saying that, but your body doesn’t,” he taunted “you might be venomous, nonchalant, and a raging bitch to the rest of the world, but all you needed was a Daddy to tame that mouth and this pussy. Didn’t you?”

I ignored him, not wanting to agree with him. Suddenly I heard and then felt the smack across my face. I let out a shocked yelp and grabbed face with my free hand. My body betrayed and a rush of arousal coated his cock.

“Oh, you like being slapped huh? When I ask you a question, you answer it, slut” he hissed at me.

“Yes Daddy” I moaned out, before slapping my hand over my mouth, not believing what I just said.

“That’s my good little slut” he teased.

He let go of my hand and reached down with both hands to push my thighs into my chest. I cried out as the new position hit my G-spot and I saw stars. Within seconds, the band snapped in my stomach and I was screaming daddy repeatedly.

“That’s it, you little cunt, cum all over my cock.” He grunted before pulling out and flipping me over on my stomach. He straddled my thighs, pulled my butt up, and shoved himself back into me. I moaned as the new position let him hit deeper. I grabbed the headboard needing to ground myself, as the drugs and orgasm made me feel like I was floating away.

He wrapped his arm around my neck, putting me in a chokehold, snapping his hips into me at such an ungodly pace. I could already feel another release coming. The drugs had all my senses turned up to an eleven, the burning in my stomach, the tingling in my core, the pleasurable pain every time he hit my cervix. I felt that if I had another orgasm, I would fly off into outer space.

“S’too much, daddy” I whine, trying to push on his stomach. “I can’t do it”

He slapped my hand away and smacked my thigh hard, making me cry out.

“You will take everything I give you. You’re my little cum slut now and you will obey me” he grunted. He grabs my arm and jerks them around behind my back, grabbing both wrists with one hand. With his other hand, he grabs hair and uses both as leverage to fuck me harder.

All you could hear in the room were my ‘uh-uhs’ and our skin slapping together. I was close as my walls begin to flutter around his cock, but he was too as I felt his hips stutter.

“You better cum before me or you’re outta luck,” he panted. “We’re not here for your pleasure, only mine.” He taunts as he speeds up getting closer to his release.

I manage to wrestle one of my hands free and reach down to rub my clit. The added stimulation almost instantly makes me fall over the edge, I scream out and clamp down on Rafe’s dick. My body convulses as I have the strongest release of my life, but the E in my system causes me to keep cumming tears falling down my cheeks as I can’t stop.

“Jesus Fuck” Rafe gasps, “You’re clenching so tight I can barely move.”

He forces his cock in and out of me as he pants and grunts. Slamming into me one more time, I feel his seed shoot out against my walls.

“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” he hisses. He slowly thrust back into me a few times before pulling out and flip me over. I was essentially a rag doll by this point.

“Oops can’t have any Daddy’s juices spilling out can we?” he smirks, shoving two fingers in me pushing his cum back in me. I whimpered and grabbed his wrist.

“Stop, too sensitive” I whimper out.

“Stop being a whiny slut” he sneers before slapping my pussy a few times. I cry out, tears running down my cheeks. He reaches for his phone and takes a picture of me.

“What the fuck” I snap.

“I need something to jerk off to when you’re not around”

He shows me the picture. I look royally fucked out, mascara and tears running down my cheeks, lipstick smeared all over my face, bruises and hickeys around my neck and chest. He grabs my phone and tosses it to me.

“Unlock it” he demands.

I do without any argument. He puts his number on and sends himself a text, so that he has my number.

“When I call, I expect you to answer and come to me” he demands coldly. “If you don’t, then the whole island will know your just my cum slut and enjoy it. I have evidence.” he grins.

I nod, knowing he had me, because the thought of the pogues, especially JJ finding out made me sick to my stomach. He tossed my shorts and some tshirt he found to me.

“Now you’re gonna get dressed, go back to the party and act like nothing happened. Your hickeys were from some random touran.” He instructed. “The whole time you pine over JJ, my cum will be seeping out of your cunt. Oh, and clean your face up.”

I move slowly getting off the bed. I get dressed and head to the en suite bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and start to cry. I splash water on my face, cleaning myself up, the whole-time sobbing.

Rafe comes in the bathroom and stares at me for a minute. I turn to face him and he smacks me on the cheek, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting and leave his handprint.

“Stop crying like a cunt,” he mocked me, “You enjoyed it, I think I counted three orgasms from you?”

“It was the drugs” I argue.

“Sure, sure. The explain why you were soaked before I gave you the E?” he asked.

I’m looked away cause I had no answer, at least not one I was willing to admit.

“S’what I thought,” he smirked “Now get downstairs, before I change my mind and take you home, tie you up, and use you all night.”

I ran out of the bedroom and went downstairs, looking for my friends.

Walking around, I finally found John B and Sarah making out in a corner. Pope was in another room trying to woo a girl with coroner talk, the poor girl looked scared for her life. The last room I walked into, JJ and Kie were on a couch, Kie in JJ’s lap making out. My friends, wait no family, didn’t seem to have missed me.

I walked into the kitchen and made me a drink and walked outside to one of the patio chairs. My phone dinged with a message.

Remember our deal and no one finds out. Although with as worried as they were for you, not sure they would seem to care.

I downed my drink and got up to get another one, tears running down my cheeks.

How the fuck did I get in this situation and what was I gonna do. All knew was I hated Rafe Cameron and I would find a way out.

Tagging some moots:

@princessmaybank @echo-at-the-pond @babygorewhore @drudyslut @rafescokewhore @rafesc0kewh0re @starfxkr @blueicequeen19 @drewstarkeyslut @pankowperfection @maybankskiss @ch4rrykisses

#outer banks #rafe cameron #obx #tw dark content #dark rafe #dark smut #dark!fic #dark rafe cameron #dark rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader

[silent-stories]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: The soft way you wake Eddie in the morning is very different from the way his father used to.

Warnings: fluff, Eddie's father being an ass

1977

Eddie's bedroom door slammed open and his father strode in, heading for the bed where Eddie had just woken up from the loud noise.

His dad already had a bottle of alcohol in his hand even though it was only seven in the morning.

"Wake up, asshole." He said kicking the bed, making Eddie jump, "It's eight o'clock and you're already late for school."

Eddie rubbed his eyes with a hand, yawning.

Al Munson, who evidently wasn't the very patient type, grabbed the mattress and basically tipped it over, knocking Eddie, who was thin and not very tall for his age at the time, to the floor.

"If you'd woken up earlier this wouldn't have been necessary." His father mumbled walking out of the room slamming the door behind him.

Of course, it was never his fault but always Eddie's. It was easier for him that way.

Eddie rolled onto his back with a grunt and stared at the ceiling of his room.

"Well, good morning to me."

1986

"Eddie."

He heard your soft voice calling his name and slowly opened his eyes.

"Hey, good morning. It's almost nine."

You were sitting on the edge of the bed next to him and you were wearing only one of his black Metallica t-shirts which was way too big for you. Your face was still slightly sleepy so you mustn't have woken up long before but still Eddie thought you were one of the most beautiful things he'd seen in his entire life.

Daylight was filtering through the window, lighting up Eddie's messy bedroom.

You reached out and moved a strand of dark hair from his face, your fingers gently caressed his skin.

Eddie still had to get used to that. To you waking him up in that sweet and peaceful way. Without haste, without yelling, without any kind of violence.

He still had to get used to the way you caressed his face or kissed his cheek to wake him up every time you did before him, when you spent the night at his trailer, and he still had to get used to the fact that there was no one left to kick him out of bed every morning, even though it had been years.

He sat up on the bed in front of you, the blanket slipping off his body revealing his bare chest and the tattoos covering his pale skin.

Seeing you in his shirt gave him a feeling of absolute peace, he felt like not only he felt at home and safe when he was with you but you did it too when you were with him.

"Do you wanna help me make breakfast?" You asked, a soft smile on your lips.

Eddie in response slowly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him.

Not yet, that meant.

You giggled. "Are you okay Eds?"

He nodded as he rested his head on your shoulder and you ran your fingertips against his bare back. A shiver ran through Eddie's body but it was a good feeling.

Thank you for still being here with me, he wanted to say. Thank you for waking me up every morning like you do.

You softly ran your fingers up and down his spine for a few more moments, your gaze falling on the almost invisible freckles on his skin.

You gently brushed his hair away and planted a kiss on his bare shoulder, only realizing you'd tickled him when you heard a small, muffled laugh come from the crook of your neck where Eddie was resting his head.

Despite this he didn't ask you to stop when your lips found his shoulder again, leaving a trail of soft kisses.

During that quiet intimate moment the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your breaths and the sound of your kisses.

"I love you." He muttered as he gently pulled away from you, after some moments, and you cupped his face in your hands after tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

"My sweet, sleepy boy." You laughed before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you too."

My.

Eddie still couldn't believe it.

You took his hand in yours and got out of bed as he did the same, Eddie was still shirtless and his bare feet met the cool but pleasant floor of the trailer.

"Pancakes?" He asked as you both made your way to the kitchen.

A smile appeared on your face. "Exactly what I was thinking about."

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #i'm such a sucker for cuddles in bed 😭 someone has to stop me

[frogchiro]

Beauty is in the eye of The Beholder

Author's note: My first kinktober entry!! Yay! We're staring with a new-ish concept so I hope you like it!

Also I apologize for the short story but I was moving into my dorm for uni today and it literally took all day so I apologize in advance :((

Warnings: slight nsfw, reader is female, general creepyness, whatever König is (human or not) isn't explicitly specified but he does some unnerving/possibly uncomfortable stuff like stalking so keep it in mind, mentioned death but nothing explicit.

The almost suffocating warmth coming from behind you is almost too much. Almost. However considering the events of the day you guess that it could be called comfortable to be cuddled and nuzzled by König, your colonel, your superior and...well, mate as he calls it. It can be sometimes tricky to hear him, for a man that size he's unnervingly silent and stealthy and his voice is low and quiet, almost whispery, not to mention that König just doesn't talk much so to hear him rasp that one word, 'mate', in your direction is a feat in itself.

While at first you were terrified of the enormous male due to all the stated reasons something about him was equally unnerving and yet alluring, like an invisible pull towards him.

At first you thought you were going crazy, everywhere you went you saw the tall, lean figure of the colonel doing nothing but just...watching you. His bloodshot eyes stared at you without ever blinking as you laid a USB stick with data you managed to hack with a tremble in your hands, your eyes not daring to meet his. Another such instance was when he almost scared you to death in an empty hallway at night when you just wanted to get a quick midnight snack from the kitchen and just barely held in a scream when you noticed König standing in a dark corner, silent and static like always, his head wasn't even moving under his cowl except for his eyes which followed you as you were scuttling and whispering shaky excuses.

You were KorTac's newest asset, a skilled hacker and yet many soldiers underestimated you; you guess you can't really blame them, you're only in your early twenties and your soft build isn't really military-esque so you suppose you kinda look a little mismatched, but that doesn't excuse what people were whispering behind your back. Not all of them, not even the majority as you were considered friendly and overall harmless, and yet these few whispered sneers cut deep into your self esteem which eventually led you into the moment you were now in.

You were laying under a thick blanket with König plastered against your back, your quiet sniffles the only thing that disturbed the otherwise quiet room. You felt bad that you were taking up König's time, after all as a colonel he surely had better things to do than lay around with his 'mate' and comfort her after some asshole insulted her although a small, selfish part of you was over the moon with happiness that the huge male behind you was cuddling and comforting you so sweetly despite not muttering anything besides the occasional nuzzle and a raspy 'pretty...soft...mine'.

Turning around, you smiled tiredly at the man beside you, his wide blue eyes never blinking as they continued to stare at you with the devotion and love someone may only give their god and yet here you are, loved and cherished by this huge man, a monster many call him, a merciless goliath that kills and destroys everything in his path like a god of war but you know better. König's huge hands ran up and down your soft sides, lightly grazing your belly and finally his large, warm hands slipped under your pajama shirt and up to your breast where he squeezed lightly, pinching at your nipple.

"König...Please I-", your pleading for...whatever were quickly cut short when the long haired male leaned in with a purr deep in his chest and nuzzled his hooked nose against your cheek, scarred lips making tiny movements as if kissing you making you giggle wetly, your former awful mood lifting, instead being replaced by a warm feeling of love and pleasure as the big male above you kept nuzzling and kissing you insistently, his hand working your sensitive breasts and slipping down to your pants to finger at your clit making you moan out.

Unbeknownst to you, König already had a plan in his mind. A plan he started to make the moment his sensitive ears caught your distressed sniffles making a concerned whine come up from his chest and the moment he saw you, he could clearly see right through you. Someone hurt you. S̷̙̭̦̜͚̑͝͝o̷̹̺͓͙̭̍̚ͅͅm̸͕̹͖̩̰͝e̸̤͖̞̯̍̂̋̚͜o̷̝̫͎̬͎̟̲̦̞̍̆̿̀̀͛̐ņ̴̧͉̭̪̣̖͆̉̅̀e̵̜̜̪̯͛͑́͘ ̶͎̣̱͎̹̻͍̥̔́͝h̵̙̰͊̈́̑͛̌̚u̷͉̝̤̾̆͌̂̓̀̏̕r̸̛̞̘͉̦͙͈͎̫̩͒͊͗̓́͝t̶̯̝͎̮͕̩̹̀̍ ̷̧̨͔̮͉͇͊͂̏͌̆̅͠y̸̡̛͕͉̖͈͗̿̅ơ̷̢͖̼͉͚͔͊̍̊̂̈ͅŭ̷̦͔͚̈́̊̚. And now he needed to know who. Ah. It was Gavin huh. That overly confident, cocksure rookie who thought that the military was rainbow and fucking sunshine, shaded glasses, cool uniforms, huge expensive cars and women to fuck left and right.

He suspected that that prick made some unwanted advances towards you and the moment you rejected him it was 180 and he was nitpicking everything you did or even how you looked. König knew he was gonna be a problem from the moment he laid eyes on him and now he though it funny to make his mate cry?

You know what they say: beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Him being the mentioned beholder and König isn't known to be the most benevolent person...If someone doesn't appreciate your beauty of a goddess, why would they need their eyes?

#kin speaks #kin's kinktober #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader

[b00kdiary]

Stay With Me | Rhysand (II)

Rhysand x Plus size reader

Y/N gets hurt during a mission- and Rhysand is more than willing to be the one to take care of her.

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, blood and gore, and smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

PART ONE

PART THREE

"Cassian, for Cauldron's sake," I scowl, my hands weakly slapping against his broad, solid chest for the fifth time. "Will you put me down? I can walk-"

"Y/N, you have a dagger embedded to the hilt in your fucking thigh," Cassian grimaced, cocking his head down at me, his hazel eyes flaring as he glances down at my wounded leg, his strong arms holding me to his chest so carefully. "You won't be able to stand, never mind walk."

I grumble irate, looking away and dropping my hands back onto my lap with a pout. I hear Azriel chuckle softly, his tall figure following closely behind us as Cassian carries me through the House of Wind.

"Where- where's Rhys?" I ask, my head peeking over Cassian's shoulder, trying to see through the gaps in his powerful wings- looking for those stary eyes and a breathtaking smile. I wince when a sharp pain shoots up my leg, even if my mind is preoccupied with the fact Rhys is nowhere to be found.

"Now you want to know about Rhys," Cassian mutters under his breath and the passive-aggressive tone catches me off guard. I lift my eyes to his hard face, but he doesn't meet my gaze, his jaw locked and eyes staring straight ahead.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand, my eyes narrowing but Cassian doesn't reply, he doesn't even react. Instead, he stalks into the lounge, his grip tightening around my body as the fire blazes to life.

"Rhys is dealing with the remaining Hybern soldiers," Azriel clears his throat, coming to stand beside us, his eyes flickering over Cassian's face contemplatively. "He said he would be back as soon as he was done."

Dealing with Hybern, he didn't need to explain what that meant.

"Madja's on her way now," Cassian states and he doesn't give me a second to speak before he marches over to the plush, large green sofa situated directly in front of the fireplace, his movements stiff as he lays me flat against the cushions.

"Cassian, wait-" I frown, groaning as I grab on his arm as it slips out from under me, stopping him from pulling away. "What's wrong with you? You're being-"

"An asshole," He finishes, and upon seeing the hurt in my eyes and then the wound steadily leaking blood over the sofa, he sighs, his handsome face melting into a dejected frown. "I'm acting like an absolute asshole, I know I'm- I'm sorry."

"It's alright, I'm just surprised," I swallow, and relief fills me when his eyes soften, when the Cassian I know and love seems to reappear as he settles on his knees beside me, his large hands cupping mine gently. "I've never been on the receiving end of your anger, Cass."

"I'm not angry, just frustrated," He admits and when I raise a sharp brow at him, he shrugs, "You've been avoiding Rhysand for weeks, Y/N and I don't like seeing the two of you so at odds."

My eyes widen in surprise at his words, and I feel the scrutinising stares of Cassian and Azriel before me, their eyes tracing over every reaction and breath I make.

"I haven't been avoiding him," I swallow, gritting my teeth as Azriel slides a pillow under my right thigh, elevating the injured leg, "I've been busy-"

"Bullshit," Cassian scoffs, and I narrow my eyes at him when his grip on my hand tightens forcing my gaze to his again, "You've been avoiding him and we all know it, Rhys most of all."

"I don't- I don't know what you're talking about," I breathe roughly, and both the males before me share a disbelieving glance between them, one that makes me scowl. "Seriously, I don't- Madja, you're here!"

Relief, pure relief at the sight of the dark-skinned female, her spindrift hair in disarray and her brown eyes narrowing in disapproval at the dagger's hilt poking out of my thigh as she strode into the lounge.

"Thank you to whoever elevated her leg, you've made this easier for us both," Madja greets and Azriel nods unconsciously at her praise. "Let's see what the damage is."

Cassian's knowing eyes don't relent upon me but as Madja crouches on the floor, he rises, sighing as he lets go of my hand, letting it fall between us. I gnaw on my lip at the silence, but I manage a strained smile at the healer before me.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Madja," I focus on my breathing as her delicate hands press around the entry point of my injury, her fingertips turning stark red immediately.

"You have a hunting dagger in your thigh, Y/N," Madja raises a pointed brow at me, and when I whimper, my jaw locking tight at the tender pain, her face melts into a frown. "I'm going to have to pull this out inch by inch and thread the skin together as I go."

"I hate Hybern soldiers," I mutter dismally, my head lolling back against the pillow and my eyes meeting the worn ceiling, counting the cracks one by one to calm the panic clawing at me. "Do it, do whatever you need to Madja."

I feel their eyes on me, all of them, but when I curl both my hands into steeled fists when I grit my teeth and clamp my eyes shut, I feel Madja sigh- and her hands come to that dagger.

I wish Rhysand was here.

That's the first thought I have, I'm not sure why. I picture his violet gaze and lazy smile and the sound of his laugh, warm and wonderful and somehow, I feel better.

Though it doesn't last long.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!"

A swarm of dark, furious power hits me, hits everyone in the room at the same time that violent, death-incarnate voice bellows out the words. I startle, my body jolting and my eyes snapping back open and moving to the entryway.

Rhysand- covered in blood.

Staining his hands and arms and torso and chest, as if he had ripped apart the males with his bare hands. Splattered across his neck and jaw and cheeks, as if he had been ferocious and merciless with his assault.

And the smell, it wasn't one soldier or two, no, it was dozens and dozens of them. All their scents, all their blood and gore and their fear spread over Rhysand like a second skin and all I could think was that he hadn't stopped.

He hadn't spoken or breathed or thought- he had just killed and killed and killed.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Y/N?!" Rhysand demanded again, his eyes as dark as midnight, his voice as terrifying as I had ever heard it as he glared at me, his chest rising and falling so fast.

"Rhys-" Cassian warns from behind me, but Rhysand can't hear him, I don't think he can hear anything over the roaring anger in his head. I see it in the way he marches forward, see it in every hard and brutal inch of his muscled and lean form the closer he gets.

"You got in the way, that soldier was coming for me-" He seethed, stopping at the back of the sofa, and my eyes blinked heavily as he clamped down two large, ringed hands onto the material, nails cutting into the material to calm his fury. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I didn't feel like dealing with your whining when he stabbed you," I grit out, my voice as cold as ice, as cold as Rhysand's as I glared up at him, the anger distracting me from the burning erupting through my leg. "Forgive me for saving you, Rhysand, next time-"

"Next time?" He laughs, a cruel, awful sound and I fought through the fatigue, forcing myself to watch his midnight eyes narrow, to see his lip curl back to reveal his sharp canines as he towered above me. "If you think you're joining us on another mission again darling, then you're not as smart as you like to think you are."

"Rhys now really isn't the time-" Azriel stepped forward, his shadows dancing wildly over his shoulders, the tension and raging emotion in the room making them more chaotic. Rhysand doesn't look at Azriel, he doesn't look at anyone but at me- intense, consuming, powerful.

And I can't look away from him.

"Oh, bite me Rhysand," I snarl, my own canines flashing as I tilt my head up to his, my hair sticking to the sweat on my forehead, my heart hammering in my chest, and my whole body sore from the aftermath of the fight- but still I snarl at him.

"If the two of you are done quarrelling," Madja sighs, drawing us away from our heated argument and it's her words that remind me why we're here- reminds me of the agonising, throbbing pain now lancing through my leg. "I need quiet and calm so I can focus please."

"I'm sorry that you're being burdened on your day off with this, Madja," Rhysand breathes, and despite his voice quietening, every word was sharp and low, full of contempt. I grit my teeth painfully as Madja inches the dagger out of my thigh, so fucking slowly.

"Rhysand," I hiss, the cut of the razor-fine blade as it's eased out, accompanied by the burning light of Madja's magic making bile rise in my throat, "Shut up."

She drags it up another inch and I bite down on my cheek, metal and bitterness filling my mouth, coating my tongue, invading my senses, but it doesn't distract me from the pain.

"Now who's whining?" Rhysand taunted darkly, and I felt the feel of his shadows and starlight dancing around me, over me, laden with anger and frustration. I couldn't open my eyes, couldn't look at him, or speak to him.

Not as Madja dragged out the blade another inch.

"Rhysand-" I warned, my throat as rough as glass now, my hands clenching at either side, so hard my nails cut into my palms, carving crescent moons.

There was a lot of blood, gallons of it, and Madja's hands pressed down firmer, her strength astounding as she tried to staunch the blood flow, working her magic over my severed skin.

"C'mon darling," Rhysand purred, and I blinked my heavy eyelids open to see his violet gaze, dark and cruel and mocking, the beast in him rearing its head as he watched me. My eyes were like steel, and I let every atom of loathing I had for him at this moment show.

It was almost menacing, the look in his eyes, the blood covering his skin, the arrogance in his words.

"Fuck you-"

The words die on my tongue, they turn to ash in my lungs and all my anger vanishes, replaced by one thing- unbelievable pain. Madja pulls the blade free, and I feel it like a shock current through my entire being, so strong I gasp out desperately.

And Rhysand's whole demeanour flips, like a switch.

The anger? Gone. The frustration? Gone. The shadows and violence that had sullied his eyes? Gone.

All gone- replaced by something... scared? Yes, he was scared. He heard that desperate sound rip from my lips, smelt the blood oozing from me in waves, saw my face tighten with unfathomable pain and he was scared.

I saw it in the way his face dropped, paled, that arrogant smile vanishing instantly, a deep frown carving in its place. A worry so strong it creased his brow, sharpened his handsome face, and made his broad form turn unnaturally still.

"Rhys," I choke out his name, and it's that one word on my lips, that one name, his name, that has him moving in an instant. One second, he's towering over me from behind the sofa's back and then the next, he's knelt by my side, his face inches from mine.

"Shit, Y/N," Rhysand sighed, and I saw the hurt in his eyes as he flickered his gaze over me, tracing over every inch of my face, seeing my visceral reaction to everything Madja was doing. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"That's better," I laugh hoarsely, my eyes welling with heavy tears as I glance at Rhys, trying to focus on the night-blooming jasmine and ocean breeze scent of his skin, under all the grime and blood. "I hate when you use your High Lord's voice on me."

"Me too, darling," He manages a strained smile and I sigh when his hand comes to my face, brushing away my damp hair before moving to cup my cheek, his thumb smoothing over the tears slowly leaking.

"Nearly done," Madja mutters and Rhys glances to the side, his nose flaring at the sight of my blood soaking the cushions, his eyes predatory as he sees Madja's magic close the wound bit by bit. "There was some kind of poison coating the blade, it's resisting my magic, that's why it's taking so long."

"And why it's hurting so much?" I muse, blinking away my tears as I look at the healer, and her grim nod tells me all I need to know. "I really fucking hate Hybern soldiers."

Rhysand laughed, I felt the brush of his warm breath, minty with a hint of bourbon infiltrate my senses and when my eyes met his again, I let myself sink into the stars and constellations, let myself bathe in the feel of him.

"This is the longest you've looked me in the eyes in weeks," Rhysand mutters, and despite the teasing in his words, his eyes held a different story- a sadder one.

"Almost forgot how beautiful you were." He whispered through my mind, and I heard the yearning in every single word as it echoed through me.

"Always such a flirt," I say back, and the room is near-silent as we stare at each other, Rhysand's lip tilting at the corner as he watches me, "I'm sorry, Rhys-"

"Don't" His lips purse, his hand cupping my cheek firmer, forcing my eyes to him, to see the sincerity on his face, "Don't worry about that now."

I managed a small nod, smiling softly at him but the conversation, the conflict hung heavy in the air between us still. I had been avoiding him, like the plague, since that night in the cabin, since we did what we did.

"The poison's slowing down the healing process, I've done what I can for now," Madja says, but her voice sounds further away and it's only then I realise my eyes are fluttering closed, that my body is starting to melt into oblivion. "She needs rest."

I vaguely hear the sound of their low voices as they speak, but as the darkness starts to creep over me, all I can feel is Rhysand's thumb brushing my cheek, his touch unbearably soft and endearing, as if lulling me to sleep.

"Stay with me, Rhys."

A star-flecked hand runs across the expanse of my mind, adoringly, and I feel the distinct feel of his lips at my temple, lingering and firm, pressing a sweet kiss there before pulling away.

"Always, darling."

***

I sense him before I even open my eyes.

He’s erected a shield around me, I feel it ripple in response to every rise and fall of breath in my lungs, a shield of shadows and starlight, a shield of his very essence made to protect me while I slept.

I think it might have been healing me too- fighting whatever vile magic Hybern coated that dagger with, working to ease the pain that had been a forever presence burning through my thigh.

“You’re awake,” Rhysand’s voice greets me as I blink my eyes open, the room dim with Fae light and I smile faintly as the shield he made disappears, flickering out like stars around me. “How do you feel?”

A dull ache throbs through my head as I turn to the side, to where Rhysand sits on the edge of his chair- broad shoulders tense, arms braced on his powerful thighs and his beautiful face hard with worry.

Not a splatter of blood remained on him. Clean, regal, the Rhysand I knew.

“I’m-“ My voice splinters, dehydration making the air cut like glass through my lungs and as I screw my eyes shut, body wrecking with coughs, Rhysand’s immediately at my side. I winced as his large hand slipped under me, fingers curling around my waist to sit me up.

“Here, darling, drink,” His voice shook, but the command was still there, and I could do nothing but brace my weak hands against his corded chest, lips parting when he pressed a water bottle to my mouth, hands agonisingly soft as I slowly sipped from it.

A satisfied moan slipped from me as the cold water ran down my throat, and I felt Rhysand’s hand tighten around my body, fingers digging possessively into my flesh at the soft sound. I sighed as he pulled the bottle away, my weak body slumping back against the pillows behind me.

“Thank you,” I whispered and when my head lifted, meeting his violet gaze, my face softened at the concern in his face, the pain, hating every second of hurt I was in. “I’m alright, Rhys, just a bit weak, but I’m going to be alright.”

His throat bobs roughly and there’s a tense silence that seems to stretch on as he bows his head, his lean form sat on the edge of the bed beside me, his hands resting on either side of my hips- as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go, as if he needed to touch me to know I was really here.

I gnaw on my lip at the hurt twisting his lovely face, nothing of the arrogant and smirking High Lord I knew present. No, not at his darkening gaze stayed locked on my bandaged thigh, blood staining the fabric, nothing but the oversized linen shirt I wore covering me.

“I should have been paying attention,” He breathes, a ragged, awful sound and my eyes widen at the way his shoulder curves inwards as if he was physically carrying the burden of his guilt. “I should have torn that bastard to pieces the second I saw him near you.”

“Don’t Rhys, don’t do that, don’t blame yourself,” I plead sharply, my hand coming to his face, cupping his strong jaw, and lifting those starry eyes to me- hating that nothing shined in them, nothing but unshed tears. “I got in the way knowing what would happen, because I would rather it be me than you.”

“I should have protected you-“ He growls, teeth flashing, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Don’t be an overprotective asshole, Rhys, I’m as much of a warrior as you are,” I raise a brow and for a second amusement danced in his eyes, tilts his lip just barely. I soothe my thumb across his jaw, smiling softly, “We protect each other, that’s what we do.”

He chuckles, and fuck, if the sound doesn’t make something warm and full fill my heart.

“I love it when you get all angry with me, darling,” Rhysand pressed his cheek into my palm, a roguish grin stretching across his face and something darkened his gaze, something molten as he stared at me, “It’s very attractive.”

“Always such a flirt,” I tease, but the breath gets tighter in my throat as Rhysand inches closer to me, as if some magnet drew us together, an unstoppable force that made it so hard for the two of us to look away.

My tongue darts out, wetting my bottom lip and Rhysand’s eyes drop to my mouth, and he’s getting closer, so closer that I feel every atom in me tense in anticipation of his lips meeting mine.

“Shit-“

I jump, Rhysand sucking in a sharp breath, the both of us so surprised that we spring apart- eyes flashing to the medical basket that appeared on the bed beside us with a soft thud.

“It seems Madja is reminding me that you need to change your bandages,” Rhys grits out through clenched teeth, and I would laugh at the ire on his face as he grabs the basket- if I weren’t blushing so hard, I could feel my skin burning.

I draw my hands to my lap, fiddling aimlessly with my fingers as Rhysand pulls out the vials and binds his long, nimble fingers, gracefully laying out the objects on the bed beside him, handsome face pursed with concentration as looked over the items one by one.

I stayed silent as he shifted on the bed, tugging back the comforter from my body, and I swallowed down the lump in my throat as his eyes slid down my form, calloused hands moving so surely as stretched my leg over his lap, fingers tugging at my bloodied bandage.

“I can do that, you know,” I mutter, my back tensing at the feel of his fingers moving across the flesh of my thigh, his eyes unwavering on my bare leg as he unwrapped the bind. “You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” He said simply, eyes glancing up at me through dark lashes and I saw the gleam, knowing every touch, every caress made something blaze to life in me- seemed to enjoy having that kind of power.

“Besides, it’s my turn to take care of you now,” He muttered roughly, and his tone, the grumble that purred through his chest, told me that changing my bandages wasn’t all he meant. “Just relax for me, yeah?”

He cocks his head, waiting for me to answer- and all I can do is nod, sinking back into the pillows.

There’s a long silence as Rhysand discards the bloodied bandage on the floor beside us, and I winced at the jagged scar that traced the inner part of my thigh- red and angry, small unhealed sections of skin still leaking blood, the poison actively fighting Madja’s healing.

“I should have made his suffering last longer,” Rhys panted, such terrifying, cold violence in his voice, in his eyes as he stared at that wound, and the room seemed to vibrate with the strength of his raging power. “I should have torn him limb by fucking limb for doing this to you.”

“You made him regret it in the end,” I said gently, remembering that Hybern soldier before me one second and then ash on the wind the next. Rhys curled his fingers around my other thigh, fingers teasing the skin, so close to where I wanted him. “We’re here, he’s not.”

“Right as always, darling,” His throat works and he watches, I watch, as his hand traces up my thigh, over my cellulite and stretch marks and as he curves his way between my legs, I keen, thighs inching apart for him.

I gnaw on my lip in anticipation as his thumb swoops back and forth, callouses tickling my inner thigh, so close to my core I can feel him brushing my underwear. My stomach coils with need and I know Rhys can smell my arousal, thick and desperate and strong in the air.

His nose flares, and I feel his power rumbling from him as if the mere smell of me was enough to have him trembling.

Another brush of his thumb, so close yet so far and my back bows, my core clenching around nothing, the pain in my leg gone now, overwhelmed by the wetness that seems to grow and grow between my thighs.

“Rhys,” I gasped, almost whining as my chest rose and fell like tidal waves, and he glanced at me with eyes like melted chocolate and raised one dark brow in a challenge, “Stop being such a tease.”

“Or what?” He crooned mockingly, I gasped when his thumb inched forward, barely grazing over the front of my damp panties, the pressure so hollow that it was there and gone in seconds. “You’ll find someone else to take care of you?”

I tugged my shirt higher up my stomach, satisfaction filling me when Rhysand’s smirk fell, and like a hunter with prey his eyes narrowed down on my exposed underwear, the black lace barely covering my pulsing cunt.

“So? Should I call Cassian in?” I managed to grit out, enough arrogance in my tone to hide the lust clouding my voice and Rhysand went still, “Or are you going to- oh-“

It was stupid, to taunt the High Lord of the Night Court so brazenly- but I was so fucking glad that I had.

Because one second his thumb was taunting the edge of my underwear and then the next, he had hooked it under the material- and ripped it off.

“This what you want, huh?” Rhysand muses hotly, fingers slipping past my wet folds almost angrily, and I moaned as his callouses rubbed harshly at my clit. “Goading me into touching your cunt, using another male to piss me off?”

“Rhys,” I whimpered, back arching as he circled the pad of his thumb in brash circles, pressing down hard enough that I could feel every single callous, centuries of battle training, deliciously scraping me. “Don’t stop-“

Rhys groaned low in his throat, and I could feel his attention washing over me like waves, pure male satisfaction on his face when he turned his hand, stuffing two fingers into me without warning.

“Fuck, fuck, Rhys-“

“You should see how tight you’re wrapped around me right now, darling,” He growled low, and I could feel my walls suffocating his fingers as he fucked them in and out of me, not even my slopping wetness enough to ease how I clamped around him. “You think you can take another?”

Another finger prods at my entrance and all I can do is lock my ankle around Rhysand’s back, sinking myself further down his fingers as a third digit joins- and the burn, it hurts so fucking good.

Rhys leans forward and my shaking hand finds purchase on his shoulder, curling around the flexing muscles, feeling every stroke of his fingers in and out, getting faster and harder now. I can’t stop the sounds that tear from me, my eyes clamping shut as his fingers stretch me, brushing my walls in a way that makes it impossible to breathe.

“Rhys, I’m close, so close-“ I gasp, and that confession seems to be like a personal challenge for Rhys, edging him on as he curls those fingers deep inside of me, toying his thumb against my clit with every rough jolt.

“Open your eyes, Y/N,” Rhys commanded, voice like midnight- his High Lord's voice and I had no choice but to rip my eyes open, to meet his burning, wild gaze, loving and hating the pleased grin he gave me. “Wanna watch your pretty eyes roll while you come around my fingers.”

I was shaking now, sweat coating my forehead and it took everything in me to not flutter my eyes closed, took everything in me to stare into his violet gaze and let his hand fuck brutally inside me- let him watch me.

He loved watching me, I saw it in his eyes, in his smile, felt it in how easily he clued onto how my body reacted- knowing how hard to press his thumb against my clit to make my back arch, knowing what angle to hook his fingers inside me to make me cry his name.

And as he shoved his thick fingers in until his knuckles inside me and hooked them up, he got his wish, got to see as that chord within me splintered to pieces and my eyes rolled back as I came.

“Rhys I’m-“ I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body writhing against his hand, trying to pull away as he still moved those fingers inside me, but he clamped down another hand on my stomach, fingers holding my flesh possessively to keep me in place.

“C’mon darling,” Rhysand cooed, his voice almost cruel, almost patronising as he fucked me through my orgasm, my walls clenching around his fingers again and again, my orgasm spreading through my thighs and stomach and hips like glass. “I’ve got you, your High Lord’s right here.”

I whimpered at the humour in his dark tone, my legs closing around Rhysand’s hand- a mixture of overstimulation from his touch and the filthy words he poured like honey into my ear.

“Too much, too much I can’t-“

He chuckled, like the prick that he is, but mercifully, his fingers stopped, hand halting inside me and I instantly sagged with relief.

I could feel Rhysand’s power thrumming around us, frantic and powerful as if blazing brighter at my climax, at seeing me fall apart. I winced as he slipped his fingers out from me, and he seemed to melt back into being unbearably sweet as he languished his hand along my thigh, waiting for me to catch my breath.

I blinked my eyes open, fighting the exhaustion that ran through me, rooted deep inside me and smiled at the sea of violet and stars that stared back at me.

“I don’t think that was the kind of care Madja meant, Rhys,” I breathe, my voice trembling as tendrils of my climax faded away and the grin that stretched across his face, it was fucking beautiful.

“Well technically I did change your bandage,” He cocked his head, eyes gleaming and only then did I notice the sheet of stars and moonlight wrapped around my thighs, a blanket of Rhysand’s power, iridescent as the night sky outside over my wound- protecting and healing.

“Thank you,” I giggled quietly, pleasantly amazed and the air in the room felt so light as our gazes met, his hand still caressing sweetly against my thigh. He must sense the words on the tip of my tongue because he inches closer, face bright with understanding.

“Rhys, what we-“

“Y/N!”

A tall figure bursts through my room door and I only see flashes of long blonde hair and two sets of wings before Rhysand shifts in front of me, his large body shielding my bareness and his face is beyond frustrated as he tugs down my top, until the material is scraping my mid-thigh.

“Are you okay?” Mor comes rushing in, oblivious to what she just walked in on, and I cringe as Rhysand purses his lips and shuffles back to give the female space as she practically launches at my side. “I heard what happened-“

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I chuckle uncomfortably, seeing the worry in her brown eyes and I smile when she wraps her arms around me, hugging me suffocatingly tight. “Mor, honestly I’m fine.”

“Rhysand’s been taking care of her,” Azriel muses quietly and I shoot him a scathing glare over Mor’s shoulder, seeing his lip tilt at the corner. Rhys rolls his eyes, but I can see the satisfaction in his eyes, that they knew.

Knew that he was the one that made me feel as good as I did.

And something akin to wildfire burns through my blood when I slide my gaze down his body, to the hard, long imprint of his cock straining against his slacks. I swallow at the sight; my mouth watering and I feel a brush of claws tease against my mind.

As if to say- later.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Mor sighed, before plopping down on the chair by my bed. Rhysand sighed- a truly irate and defeated sound like he couldn’t believe our family had just walked in on us like he was getting very tired of all the interruptions. “When Cassian called me, I came as soon as I could.”

“Thank you, Mor,”  I smile, glancing at her to my side and my body tingles when Rhys pulls the comforter over my body, fingers brushing my breasts as he does so.

I don’t miss the smile he tries to hide.

“Speaking of me,” Cassian steps forward, an absolutely delighted grin stretching his face, eyes flashing knowingly between me and Rhys and my brows furrow when Rhysand’s face darkens like he wants to lunge at the male.

“Did I hear Y/N mention my name earlier?”

_______________________________

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Taking requests for all SJM men!

part 3??

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhysand smut #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #smut #azriel acotar #cassian acotar #acotar smut #plus size reader #sjmaas #rhysand x plus size reader #acotar fanfiction #fluff #rhys x reader #rhysand fanfic #sarah j maas #hofas

[proxima-writes]

I’d like to request a boyfriends dad fic where reader is on vacation with their family and Joel gets handsy with her but she convinces herself it’s okay. Then when her boyfriends ditches her Joel fucks her. Bonus points if boyfriend comes back super drunk while Joel is fucking reader and Joel just puts his hand over her mouth and continues fucjing her and bf passes by them but doesn’t notice 🤷🏻‍♀️

Just some thots…if it inspires you a fic/Drabble would be awesome

I may have....gotten carried away with this one.

title: karma is my boyfriend's dad

pairing: boyfriend's dad!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6588

summary:

Your boyfriend, Sean Miller, is an asshole. The one redeeming thing about him?

His dad, Joel Miller.

And he's just invited you along on the family vacation to Panama City Beach, Florida.

author’s note: thank you for the request!! this was a fun one. my 1000 follower mark is quickly approaching and i cant wait to do something fun for it! thank you for all your support and love so far 💕

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, alternate universe - boyfriend’s dad, age difference (21F and 56M), power imbalance dynamics, infidelity, asshole boyfriend, alcohol use, sunscreen as a flirting mechanism, reader wearing a bathing suit, touching in public, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, almost getting caught, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, sex against a door. let me know if any are missing!

Sean Miller is a shitty boyfriend. He constantly ditches you to hang out with his frat brothers, he’s left you at parties by yourself, he’s forgotten birthdays and anniversaries and, to top it all off, he’s never made you come. You’ve been with the guy for two years and not a single orgasm in all that time. 

You deserve better. You deserve orgasms. 

The only redeeming thing about Sean is his dad, Joel Miller.

Joel is the textbook definition of a DILF. He’s tall and broad with dark curly hair streaked with gray and kind brown eyes. Even approaching the upper fifties in age, he’s built like a tank. Wide shoulders and biceps that stretch his flannel shirts to the point where you’ll sometimes sit there willing a thread to pop, his thick thighs and a tight ass always hugged by the most sinful pair of Levi’s. 

But besides looking like sin, Joel is kind. There’s been more than one occasion where Sean had forgotten your plans, leaving you waiting at his house where he still lives with his dad and Joel would always take pity on you and invite you to watch a movie with him, the two of you sitting on opposite sides of the couch while he played a comedy to cheer you up. On your birthday, he sent you a Starbucks gift card and a text when his own son didn’t even remember. When you would update him on how school was going, he’d always pat your shoulder and say, “‘Atta girl.” 

That last memory in particular always makes your tummy erupt with butterflies.

In the last few months, things with Sean have been especially strained. He’s started hiding his phone from you, flipping the screen face down anytime you’re within arms reach of him. On the rare nights he spends at your apartment, he’ll get calls that he insists on taking privately.

Honestly, you were more than ready to end it before Joel caught you in his kitchen one day and asked if you wanted to come with him and Sean on their vacation to Panama City Beach.

“Really? I thought this was supposed to be, like, a guy’s trip?” You ask. You stayed the night last night and Sean was still asleep, always one to sleep until noon if given the opportunity. Joel is making coffee while you sit at the bar.

Joel shrugs. “I’m sure he’d want his girl there. You two can party and leave the old man behind for his bedtime,” he says with a playful smile that makes your heart flutter. 

“I appreciate the offer, Mr. Miller, but there’s no way I can afford a ticket to Florida right now.” You reach for the cup he offers, only for him to pull it back out of reach.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover everythin’,” he replies. “Say yes and you can have your coffee.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a burden.”

Joel’s fingers brush against yours as he hands you your warm mug. A shiver runs down your spine at the contact.

“I’m positive, darlin’.”

________

Joel knows that his son treats you like shit, and he fucking hates it. He’s tried to talk some sense into the kid but all his wisdom just goes in one ear and out the other. He has to pretend that he doesn’t hear him bringing other girls over and it eats him up inside because he wants you to know, wants you to have better, but if he tells you, he’s severing the one tie he has to you and what then? He’s fifty-six, over thirty years your senior. He’s lived over two lifetimes in the course of your one. There’s no way in hell you’d look at him twice, and that’s not even including the fact that he’s your boyfriend’s dad.

Joel’s not sure what possessed him to invite you on vacation. You’re right, it was supposed to be a guy’s trip, a gift from Joel to Sean for his twenty-first birthday that was unfortunately right in the middle of his finals. He knows damn well Sean is, in fact, not going to be happy that you’ve been invited along. He’s certain the younger man fully intended to turn his hotel room into a revolving door for women he picked up at the bars along the beach, one time flings he could write off before returning home to a sure thing.

He tells Sean about the change of plans that evening over dinner. His son whines petulantly, slamming his fork down on the table.

“Dad, seriously? Why the fuck would you invite her, this is gonna ruin everything,” he says. 

“Shouldn’t be talkin’ ‘bout your girlfriend like that,” Joel admonishes. Sean rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t even put out anymore, I don’t even know why I keep her around. I should just break up with her before the trip.”

Joel’s jaw clenches with frustration. “I already bought her ticket. She’s comin’ whether you like it or not and that’s final.”

“Fuck this shit,” Sean says, chair scraping across the floor as he stands. “Whatever. Won’t stop me from having a good time.”

Joel’s counting on it.

________

Joel and Sean pick you up from your apartment at 4 am for the 7 am flight to Florida. Your boyfriend is passed out in the front passenger seat, but Joel shakes him awake and tells him to get in the back. The younger man grumbles but does as he’s told while Joel helps you load your luggage into the bed of the truck. The trip will last four days, so you’ve squeezed everything into a single carry on and your backpack. 

After all, it’s Florida. You plan on spending every day in a bikini.

Sean passes back out as you settle in his vacated seat, placing your travel mug of coffee in the cup holder besides Joel’s. He gives you a polite smile as he puts the truck in reverse, placing his arm on the back of the seat and twisting to look out the rear window, his other hand deftly turning the wheel. 

You can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, your core already aching at his proximity. 

You’re in for a long four days.

_______

The three of you make it through airport security quickly, the early hour lending some reprieve from the crowds. 

“Why is this flight so fucking early?” Sean grouses, slumped in one of the uncomfortable terminal seats. 

“Did you want more or less time in Florida?” Joel replies, flipping through his newspaper.

“Whatever,” Sean replies with a roll of his eyes, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up and burrowing into it.

You return from your quest for breakfast at that moment, a white paper bag in your hands and a bright smile on your face as you sit between the two men.

“I got you a bagel,” you say to Joel, pulling a plain bagel wrapped in wax paper from the bag.

“You get me anything?” Sean asks, peeking from beneath his hood. Your shoulders drop.

“Oh…no. You don’t usually eat breakfast,” you reply. Sean groans. “We can share mine?” You offer.

“No, it’s fine, whatever. Thanks for thinking of me.”

Joel’s brow pinches in irritation, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he watches your smile fade into a frown as you look at the bag in your hands. He nudges you with his shoulder.

“Hey, I appreciate it,” he tells you quietly. You give him a tentative smile.

He misses the bright one.

________

“I call window,” Sean says when the three of you have boarded the plane, flopping into the seat after haphazardly tossing his bag into an overhead compartment without waiting for a reply. 

Joel fixes his son’s bag before settling his own beside it and turning to hold a hand out for yours. You hand your duffel over to him with a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Which seat do you want, darlin’?” Joel asks you.

“I can sit in the middle,” you offer, scooching past him in the tight space. Your back brushes his chest and he catches a whiff of your strawberry shampoo, the scent making his mouth water.

He sits beside you, tucking his backpack beneath the seat in front of him. Your thigh brushes his as you get comfortable in your seat, the row a tight squeeze for the three of you. 

“How long is this flight?” You ask, pulling a pair of headphones from your backpack. Sean’s already unconscious again, his head tilted against the window and his mouth open in a snore.

“‘Bout two hours,” Joel says. You nod, shifting in your seat again. Your shoulders knock into his when you do, and you give him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. Tight fit,” you tell him. He swallows around the lump in his throat.

He can think of something else that would be a tight fit.

The flight attendants go through their pre-flight duties and take-off occurs without any issue. When they give the green light to use electronics, you pull out your phone, cursing when the screen remains black even as you hit the power button.

“My phone died,” you explain. He smiles sympathetically.

“You wanna watch a movie on mine? I downloaded a couple,” he offers.

“Sure. We can share my headphones?”

“Good idea.”

Joel plugs your headphones into the jack on his phone and passes you the right earbud before sticking the left one in his own ear. He queues up a movie, some action film called Triple Frontier that seemed interesting based on the synopsis, and holds the phone on his lap. You lean into him, that strawberry scent settling over him once again.

You keep fidgeting in your seat, twisting and readjusting your upper body against the arm rest between your seats. After the third time, he reaches down and flips it up, your body slumping closer to his. When he looks down at you, your face is tilted up towards his and he has to concentrate very hard to keep his gaze trained on your eyes. 

“Thanks,” you whisper before returning your attention to the movie. “Hey, that guy kinda looks like you.”

________

The flight passes quickly, much to Joel’s dismay. He would have liked to keep sitting pressed up beside you for longer. 

At the car rental facility, Joel gets handed the keys to a Jeep Wrangler. Sean’s eyes light up when he sees it.

“Can I drive?” He asks. 

Joel sighs. “Fine, just be careful would ya?”

Sean lowers the soft top before hopping in the driver’s seat. Joel insists that you sit in the front passenger, because he’s a gentleman, but he quickly regrets the choice.

With the top down and the music blaring, Sean is in a relatively good mood. He’s smiling at you and even reaches over to grab your hand, pulling it towards him to press a kiss to the back of it. Joel can feel the tug of jealousy in his gut as he watches you smile back at him but there’s nothing that he can do about that.

After all, you’re Sean’s girl.

And he’s just going to have to live with that.

________

Sean is standing behind you with his hands on your hips, lips trailing kisses along the exposed skin of your shoulder in your tank top while Joel is speaking with the hotel clerk, checking into the rooms. You squirm away from Sean’s attention, the man dropping his hands from you and frowning.

“Why are you being such a prude?” He snaps. 

“I’m not being a prude,” you say with a sigh. “Your dad is right there.”

He tries to pull you back towards him with an arm around your waist. “Come on, babe. He’s probably already heard you moaning my name,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Not likely, you think. 

“I just don’t think it’s appropriate.” You step out of his grasp again as Joel approaches, holding three key cards.

“Room 102 for the two of you,” he says, handing two of the cards to Sean. “And I’m in 104, if y’all need anything.”

“Great,” Sean says, grabbing your hand. “Come on, let’s go put our stuff away.”

You trail behind Sean, but can’t help looking back at Joel.

You’re surprised to find his dark gaze already fixed on you.

________

“Come on, let’s go find a bar,” Sean whines. You’ve just left the bathroom after changing out of your travel outfit of leggings and into a bikini and a sheer cover-up dress.

“It’s so early. I highly doubt there are any bars open. Besides, I need to charge my phone,” you tell him, packing a tote bag with your sunscreen, a book, your copy of the room key, and your sunglasses. “Why don’t we go to the pool?”

“It’s PCB, babe, there’s bound to be a bar open,” Sean says with a roll of his eyes. “But if you wanna be boring then by all means, go to the pool.”

You sigh. “You do whatever you want, Sean.”

He grabs his wallet from the nightstand, shoving it into his pocket. “Fine. I will. Come find me when you’re done being such a fucking bitch.”

The door slams behind him as he leaves, the sudden noise making you jump in surprise.

You can’t even find it in yourself to be upset.

________

Joel’s just opening the door to his room when he hears his son’s raised voice across the hall. He freezes, the door half open as he listens.

“Fine. I will. Come find me when you’re done being a fucking bitch,” Sean says before slamming the door. 

Anger courses through Joel’s veins as he listens to his son’s heavy footsteps echo down the hall. He takes a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, before opening the door fully and crossing the hall to knock on your door.

When you open the door, you look surprised to see him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. Joel has to make a conscious effort to not let his eyes wander your body. He can see the neon pink strings of your bikini tied around your neck and god does he want to see more.

He clears his throat. “Hey. Everythin’ alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. I was just about to go to the pool,” you tell him.

“I’ll come with you,” Joel immediately offers without thinking.

“If you’re sure. I don’t want to get in the way of any plans you had, Mr. Miller,” you mutter.

“I’m sure.”

________

Joel sets some hotel towels on loungers positioned beside each other on a sunny part of the pool deck. The pool is fairly busy and to your surprise there’s a live DJ and a bartender is already making a steady flow of drinks behind the poolside bar. The pool itself is huge and even boasts its own lazy river that you’re looking forward to floating down.

Your attention is dragged to Joel once more as he reaches for the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it up. Your mouth goes dry as you watch his back muscles work, rippling beneath miles of tan skin that you want to trace with your fingertips. 

You shake your head free of thought and remove your coverup while his back is still turned, stuffing it into your tote bag you’ve dropped beside the lounger. You pull out your sunscreen and sunglasses, slipping them over your eyes to combat the harsh Florida sun.

When you look up, you’re surprised to find Joel already watching you, gaze fixed squarely on your chest. You clear your throat, wiggling the sunscreen bottle at him.

“You want me to get your back?” You offer. 

“Sure. Thanks,” he replies, voice rough. You have to fight the urge to rub your thighs together for relief from the ache between them, your brain conjuring scenarios of that deep timbre in your ear telling you how good you feel around him. 

He sits on the lounger with his back to you, waiting for your next move. You squirt some sunscreen into your palm, rubbing your hands together before smoothing it across his back. His shoulders tense briefly at the first touch of your hands before he goes lax against you, his head dropping as you smooth the lotion on him.

You get lost in the feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips as you drag your hands over the broad muscles of his back and shoulders and down his spine. In a moment of bravery, or stupidity, you let your fingers drag the tiniest bit beneath the elastic of his navy swim shorts, just enough that it could be passed off as an honest mistake. 

When you’re finished, you hand the bottle to him over his shoulder. He takes it silently, lathering the rest of his body while you adjust your lounger flat and lay face down. You reach behind your back, tugging at the strings of your bikini until they fall to the side.

“Could you do me next?” 

________

Joel takes a seat on the lounger, his hips brushing yours. He’s hard as a fucking rock in his swim shorts, has been from the moment you opened your hotel door wearing your sheer coverup, pink bikini taunting him beneath.

It was a stupid fucking idea to ask you to come to the pool with him. He was clearly thinking with the head in his pants and not the one on his shoulders because he didn’t stop to consider that he’d be getting a front seat to the soft skin of your thighs and tummy, the curve of your waist and ass and breasts on full display for him to commit to memory. 

And now you were asking him to touch you. Giving him permission to have his hands on the same flesh he imagines when he’s gripping his cock roughly in his palm and chasing an orgasm that offers hardly any relief. 

He swallows nervously before uncapping the sunscreen and squirting it directly on your back. You give a little yelp of surprise, the lotion no doubt unexpectedly cold, but you settle back down when he smooths a palm across your back. 

You’ve untied the strings of your top, leaving him with no obstacles as he works the lotion into your skin. He loses himself in the repetitive motion, smoothing his hands across your shoulders and down your spine like you had done to him. He lets his thumbs press into the divot of your lower back, fighting the urge to drag them beneath the scant bit of fabric covering your ass.

As he finishes, he drags his hands back up your sides, his fingertips dragging across the soft skin of the exposed sides of your breasts. He feels the hitch in your breathing as he does and he worries for a moment that perhaps he’s gone too far. 

“Thanks,” you say, voice breathy. “Would you mind getting my legs for me? I don’t want to get up.”

Joel thinks he should mind. He should absolutely mind being asked by his son’s girlfriend to rub lotion into her back and legs. The action is too intimate, it’s crossing a line and he knows this.

He just can’t bring himself to give a fuck anymore. 

Wordlessly, Joel squirts some more sunscreen into his palm, this time warming it between his hands before smoothing it on your legs, starting with your calves. He slides his palms up your legs, high enough that his fingertips brush the crease where the curve of your ass meets your thigh. Your legs spread just the slightest bit and Joel lets his thumbs drift toward your inner thighs.

He’s playing with fire now as he presses his thumbs deeper, higher, the tip of one even grazing your bikini bottoms. He desperately wants to slide it beneath the elastic, to drag his thumb through your slit and find out if you’re wet just from the touch of his hands.

But Joel pulls his hands away and stands, moving over to his own lounger and laying facedown on the towel covered cushion. His dick presses uncomfortably into his thigh and he uses that discomfort as a means to will the hardness away.

He’s in for a long four days.

________

Your pool day with Joel runs from the early morning to the late afternoon. Neither of you hear from Sean during that time, but you can’t find it in yourself to be bothered. Not when Joel Miller is sitting beside you in an inner tube, floating down a lazy river as you talk about everything and nothing, drops of water clinging to his skin and catching the light. You could stay in a moment like this forever so long as he’s there, too.

As the intensity of the sun starts to wane, Joel suggests finding somewhere to get dinner.

“Pick somewhere nice, though. My treat,” he says as you’re parting ways at your hotel room doors. He doesn’t give you a chance to reply, shutting his door and leaving you smiling in the hallway like a girl with a crush.

You let yourself into your hotel room, not surprised to find it empty. Your phone is still sitting on the charger with no new notifications. The part of you that’s been in a relationship with Sean Miller for two years feels a pang of sadness at your boyfriend’s silence.

The part that wants to fuck his dad doesn’t give a shit.

You shower and change into a sundress before slipping your sandals back on. Checking the time, you grab your bag and head to the lobby to meet up with Joel.

Joel’s already in the lobby, leaning against the wall near the exit and scrolling through his phone. He’s wearing a light blue short sleeve button down that hugs his biceps deliciously, the tan of his skin popping against the fabric, his usual boots, and khakis. You were almost certain this man didn’t own anything besides perfectly broken in Wranglers. His hair is combed back, still damp from his shower, and he looks so good you have to consciously stop your jaw from dropping.

“Hey, you pick a place?” Joel asks as you approach, slipping his phone into the pocket of his pants. 

“There’s an oyster bar nearby that looks good,” you reply. He holds the door open for you, broad palm ghosting across your low back as you exit the cool hotel lobby and out into the hot Florida night. The traffic on the sidewalk is thick, people moving like the nearby ocean as they ebb and flow from place to place. 

“You hear from Sean at all?” Joel asks as you navigate the crowds, his arm brushing yours as he sticks close to your side. You shake your head and Joel sighs. “I’m sorry. I love the kid, I do, but goddamn if he doesn’t piss me off sometimes.”

You sigh. “It’s not your fault, Mr. Miller. You don’t have to apologize for him.”

You’re both quiet after that. You don’t know what’s going through Joel’s head as you sneak a glance at him and catch only his furrowed brow and tense jaw. 

You nearly pass the restaurant in your distraction, but Joel catches you by the arm, tugging you with him to the entrance.

It’s a cute little bar and restaurant, the kind of place that’s cozy without being horribly cramped. The lighting is dim and booths line the walls while tables sit in the middle, candles flickering and casting shadows on the walls and across the white tablecloths. 

The hostess seats you at one of the booths, tucked away in the corner. You sit across from Joel, setting your bag beside you after digging your phone out from it. When the waitress walks away without leaving menus, Joel looks adorably confused. 

“You have to use your phone,” you tell him with a giggle. “They have the QR code menus.”

“I’m gettin’ too old for this shit,” Joel complains. You roll your eyes, standing and moving over to his side of the booth, settling beside him. His thigh presses to yours and you’re acutely aware of the contact as you lean close to share your phone screen with him. 

When the waitress returns, you place your drink and food orders. Joel opts for whiskey, neat, and a medium rare steak because you can take the man out of Texas but you can’t take Texas out of the man. You order a spicy pineapple margarita and a plate of herb crusted oysters.

You should probably move back over to the other side of the booth, but you don’t want to. The feel of his body pressed to yours lights up your nerve endings in an unfamiliar way, his clean woodsy smell settling over you like a comforting blanket. He doesn’t say anything about how you remain seated next to him, just turns his head to talk to you.

The drinks arrive first. The sour tang of the pineapple makes your face pucker when you take a sip, making Joel laugh. You might be imagining it, but you think his gaze lingers on your lips for just a beat too long to be coincidence. You cross your legs beneath the table, squeezing your thighs together for some semblance of relief from the ache between your legs.

A second round of drinks is ordered and delivered while you talk about a TV show you both enjoy. This drink leaves you feeling pleasantly fuzzy around the edges. Joel makes a joke about one of the recent episodes and it makes you laugh so hard you’re leaning against him for support.

You place your hand on his thigh close to his knee. Joel tenses beside you but doesn’t say anything, his eyes dark over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip. You can’t bring yourself to look away but you’re also frozen in place, not daring to drag your hand further up. The spell between you is broken when the waitress drops by with your trays of food, setting them on the table and walking away with a request for another round of drinks from Joel.

“These look amazing,” you say, squeezing lemon over them. Joel’s started to cut into his steak, inspecting the center and giving a tiny nod of approval that makes you smile. “Hey, did you know oysters are an aphrodisiac?”

Joel coughs on the piece of steak he’d been eating, reaching for his whiskey and tossing the rest back as he swallows. “They’re what now?”

________

“Aphrodisiacs. They increase your sex drive,” you say, your lips wrapping around the bite poised on your fork. Your eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of satisfaction. “God, these are better than sex.”

“Must not be havin’ very good sex, then,” Joel immediately responds without thinking. His hand freezes halfway between his plate and his mouth, his eyes going wide as his brain catches up to his mouth. “Sorry that...that wasn’t appropriate.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Miller,” you say, patting his knee. Your hand lingers there again, the second time this evening, and it makes Joel’s brain misfire. This whole dinner has been a test of his self-control and he is quickly fraying at the edges the longer you sit pressed beside him, that god forsaken strawberry scent flooding his senses. 

The waitress delivers the third round of drinks and your hand leaves his thigh to pick yours up and take a sip. His eyes track the way your lips wrap around the straw, mind wandering to something else he’d like to see them wrapped around.

He takes a sip of his own drink, letting the burn of the whiskey down his throat distract him. The third drink is making his mind spin, a voice in his head urging him to trace his fingers along the exposed skin of your thigh beneath the table. He sets his hand on his own thigh, casual as can be.

You’re telling Joel a story about the time a guy in one of your classes was so hungover he fell asleep in the middle of an exam but Joel can barely concentrate. His eyes keep lingering on your lips and trail lower, lower, lower, over the delicate line of your neck, the dip at the base of your throat, the swell of your breasts.

Joel stretches his pinky, the tip of his finger barely skimming the soft skin of your thigh. He watches your face for a reaction and finding none, he feels emboldened. He inches his hand closer, his ring finger joining his pinky in caressing you. 

He’s focused on your face, watching for any indication that you notice what he’s up to beneath the tablecloth. He holds his breath as his fingers dip beneath the hem of your dress. You stutter in your story, tripping over your words and Joel’s fingers pause in their exploration.

Joel shouldn’t be doing this. He should pull his hand back and forget any of this happened, forget the silky smooth feel of your skin beneath his fingers, forget the way your smile lit up your face as he floated down the lazy river beside you. 

Then you’re tilting your head, eyes boring into him like you can see right through him, see every depraved thought running through his head and your knee presses more tightly to his, your legs spreading beneath the table and Joel’s hand sliding to your inner thigh with the movement.

“Can I get y’all anything else?” 

Joel rips his hand from your leg and swallows guiltily as he looks up at the waitress standing beside the booth. You sit up straighter, your heat leaving his side and he curses the interruption.

Perhaps it was for the best, though. 

You’re still Sean’s girlfriend, after all. 

________

Your skin is buzzing with the liquor in your veins and the phantom feel of Joel’s touch on your thighs. The man is quiet on the walk back, brooding even. His brow is furrowed, jaw tense, hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants like it’ll stop him from touching you again. 

The thought makes you downright giddy.

“Thanks for dinner, Mr. Miller,” you say as you stand in front of the doors of your respective rooms. 

He gives you a tight smile. “‘Course, darlin’. Have a good night,” he tells you before disappearing into his room, the heavy door shutting behind him and echoing in the hall. 

You swipe the key for your room, opening the door to find it still dark, everything the same as you left it. You drop your bag on one of the beds, pulling your phone out to check if you have any missed messages and finding none. 

The silence from Sean is the answer to a question you didn’t know you were asking.

You leave your room, crossing the hall to knock on Joel’s door. The man answers a moment later, already changed into a t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. 

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks, opening the door wider. 

“Left my key in the room,” you reply. “You mind if I stay with you for a bit?”

You can see the struggle flash across Joel’s brown eyes, but it’s just as quickly swallowed by a shade of lust that makes your breath hitch. 

“Sure, darlin’,” he finally says, stepping back and making room for you to cross the threshold. 

You turn to face him when the door shuts. You can’t tell who makes the first move, only that one moment you’re staring at each other and the next your body is being pulled against his, thick fingers digging into your hair and pulling your mouth to his in a bruising kiss.

He turns your bodies, your back hitting the door as his mouth continues to explore, his tongue dipping between your lips to tangle with yours. He tastes like whiskey and feels like sin, his broad body pressing against yours. Your arms wind around his shoulders, pulling him towards you desperately like he’s the air you need to breathe.

“Fuck,” Joel groans against your mouth. “Been wantin’ to touch you so goddamn bad, you have no fuckin’ idea.”

His hands drag up your hips and over your waist, fabric of your dress bunching in his fists. He looks down between your bodies, watching as he slides a thick thigh between your legs, the sudden pressure against your sensitive core making you gasp. You rock against the hard muscle, unable to fight back a whimper at how good it feels.

“That feel good, baby?” Joel asks, lips close to your ear. “Come on, darlin’ move a little faster for me, that’s it.”

His hands grip your hips, urging your movements over his thigh. Your head tips back against the door with a thud as you gasp. His lips trail hot kisses across your jaw and neck, his teeth nipping at the skin just over your pulse point. One of his hands drags the strap of your dress down, exposing your breast to the cool air of the room, your nipples going tight with equal parts chill and anticipation. 

Joel rubs a thumb across the tight bud, almost reverently, before bringing his mouth to it, pulling it between his lips and swirling it with his tongue. The sensation makes your hips move faster over his thigh and you can feel how slick you are in your panties with each thrust.

“You have any idea,” Joel groans, other hand leaving your hip and ripping the opposite strap down so that he can give your nipple the same attention, “how fuckin’ hard it is, huh? To keep my fuckin’ head on straight when you walk around lookin’ like an angel that a devil like me don’t deserve?”

“Joel,” you moan, your chest heaving with strained breaths as just this man’s thigh brings you closer to relief than your boyfriend ever has. “Joel, please!”

“Please what, sweetheart? I’m already in this deep, you gotta know I’d give ya anythin’,” he says. “You wanna cum, baby? Wanna soak my thigh for me, get these pants all messy so that I can’t think of anythin’ but you when I gotta wear them for another three days?”

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, your orgasm cresting unexpectedly. Your legs clamp tight around his thigh, the aftershocks coursing through you with surprising ferocity. When your grip on him loosens, the man drops to his knees, looking up at you with a wicked gleam in his dark brown eyes.

“How’d that feel, baby?” He asks, running his hands up the outside of your legs until his fingertips find the elastic of your panties, easing the fabric down your thighs while he waits for a response.

“G-good,” you mumble, feeling a bit self-conscious in the aftermath. You’d just come from nothing but grinding against this man’s thigh for crying out loud. You reach up to fix your dress straps, but a pinch to your inner thigh has you yelping in surprise.

“Nuh uh, wanna see those gorgeous tits when I look up at you,” Joel admonishes. You can feel your cheeks heating, blood rushing to your face from just his words. 

He lifts your leg, draping it over his shoulder. The position leaves you a little off kilter, your hands landing on his head for balance.

“I’m gonna eat this pretty little pussy now, okay?” He says, rather than asks. He gives you no time to respond, leaning in to lick through your folds with a deep, satisfied groan. You cry out from the overstimulation to your sensitive clit, your fingers pulling against his hair. He hums, the vibrations pulsing through your bundle of nerves and making you damn near sob at the sensation.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” is all you can manage to say, a slur of his name as his tongue circles your clit and dips inside your entrance, messy slides of it through your folds as he drinks you up. You look down briefly, only to find him staring right back at you, his heated stare making your blood boil.

“Gimme one more, baby, and then I need to get you on my cock,” he groans before doubling his efforts, licking and sucking and nipping at your flesh until you’re sobbing out his name as you come for a second time. “Fuck, that’s it. Good fuckin’ girl,” he growls.

He stands, shoving his pajama pants down his thighs, his cock bobbing free. The thick length of it makes your mouth practically water as you watch him give it a few rough tugs. He smirks at you, reaching down to lift one of your legs, holding it up with the crook of his elbow at the back of your knee. The position leaves you spread wide for him as he takes his cock in his other hand, positioning the thick head at your soaked entrance.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands, the tip barely pushing inside of you. 

“I want this,” you repeat dutifully. He shakes his head.

“No, sweetheart. Wanna hear you say you want my cock.”

You whine, the sound damn near pitiful to your ears. “Please, Joel, I want your cock.”

“There’s my good girl,” he says with a smile, finally easing into you with a burning stretch that makes you gasp. “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ tight.”

You moan as he bottoms out, hips pressing to yours. He kisses whatever skin he can reach as he gives you a moment to adjust before pulling out nearly all the way and thrusting sharply back inside, punching the air from your lungs as his cock drags against your g-spot with each thrust.

There’s a pounding at your back and a shout of your name, followed by, “Dad! Where the fuck is everyone?”

Your eyes go wide and Joel’s hips slow but to your shock, they don’t stop. He brings a hand to your jaw, fingers pressing to your cheek as he slips his thumb between your lips and shushes you.

“Haven’t seen her,” Joel shouts back, even as his eyes never leave yours. Your walls flutter around his cock as he continues to thrust, sharp but controlled so as not to make a lot of noise that can be heard on the other side of the door. “You should check the hotel bar. Said she might get some drinks there if you weren’t back when we finished dinner.”

“You guys went to dinner without me? That’s fuckin’ bullshit,” Sean whines. “Fine, whatever, I didn’t even want to see her anyways. Found me a blonde that I can bring back to the room instead.”

Joel’s eyes flash with rage and you shake your head gently. When Sean’s footsteps indicate he’s left, Joel’s hips resume a more punishing rhythm. He withdraws his thumb from your mouth as his hand slides lower, circling your throat possessively instead. You gasp, moaning loudly as your body relents to a third orgasm that leaves your vision fuzzy at the edges.

Joel’s own movements stutter before he’s pulling out, his cum splashing against your tummy as he grinds his cock against your hip, finishing with a gasp of your name.

You lean against him as you catch your breath, enjoying the feel of his hands smoothing over your hair.

“You okay?” He asks.

You grin at him. “Never been better, Mr. Miller.”

Sean may have found a blonde, but you’ve found your way into bed with his dad.

Karma’s funny like that.

Joel Miller taglist:

@huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727  @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfelll @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kirsteng42 @caatheeriinee07 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb @evyiione @leeeesahhh @tloubarbie @afterglowsb-tch13 @loveliestofthoughts @theviewfromtheritz @brittmb115 @uncassettodiricordi @pedritosgfreal @adriennemichelle98 @mxtokko @gingersince97 @switchbladedreamz @casa-boiardi @tonysterco @rvjaa @ladymunson @sexpoisoned @trisaratops-mcgee @decemberdolly @spookyemorockbabe @reader-without-a-story @katmoonz @simping-soldat @mswarriorbabe80 @orphanbird95 @shatteredbaby @tusk89 @gingersince97 @mssbridgerton @internetobsessed1234-blog @sloanexx @manazo @bigboiseason123 @bean-is-reading @darlingpedro @silkiers @pascals-catt @bbyanarchist @therealcap @pedrosgrogu @Sadbloatedegg @dimitra300 @thesolarangell @pedrotonin @ievutebebee @peterrthree @worhols @lonesomecowboah @taraiel

Want more Joel Miller? Check out the master list.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel tlou #joel x reader #boyfriend’s dad!joel miller #alternate universe

[iluvmorales]

The alleyway

summary Prowler!miles meets you, but not at the best time?

a/n send in requests! For any of the spiders or prowler!miles <3

word count ??

You don’t know why the fuck you thought it was a good idea to go on a walk at night, and in Brooklyn. Ever since the police captain was killed, the area, the city, and the people went to complete shit.

So now here you are, running through the alleyways, ducking left and right trying to get this group of grown men away from you and off your ass.

Were they after money? Your valuables? Or you? You didn’t even know because they didn’t say anything, just 5 men start fucking bolting at you with no warning.

You slid, practically drifting left and around a corner. You breathed out, after you’d been holding your breath for god knows how long while running.

“Why the fuck, these assholes..” you heard the footsteps coming closer and closer, knowing one had seen where you turned. You grabbed a plank that’d been thrown behind the dumpster and right when one was about to turn

Whack!

The board hit him dead center on his face, causing him to fall back and hit his head. He stopped moving thank god, but you assumed he was still alive.

“You bitch!” One launched at you, but you hit him with the board as well, only this time you weren’t as successful with knocking him onto the floor and out.

The prowler overheard the ruckus between the alleyway, and peered down from the top of the building. A girl, around his age trying her hardest to whack, possibly kill 4 men with a wooden plank. A wooden plank? What the fuck?

Obviously, to him she looked like she was doing alright seeing as how one was already unconscious and another was beaten bloody with a broken nose.

The prowler felt bad leaving you, but he had work to do and people to meet. He had no time to save some random girl in an alleyway.

“Ugh get a fucking life! Someone help!” You yelled to the men, then as loud as you could you asked for help.

Your arms were getting tired, your head was pounding and you were frustrated. Frustration quickly turned to pure fear when a man came from behind you and grabbed you, you elbowed him in his face, kicked and screamed.

Suddenly, the man fell to his knees and someone caught you before you hit the ground. You freaked out even more, still kicking and yelling.

“Chill out, I’m helping.” The distorted voice whispered, placing you down. Your knees were weak and you stumbled back watching him easily take out the guys one by one.

You let out a sigh of relief, back against the wall as you slowly slid down, your head falling into the palms of your hands. “Are you okay?” The “prowler” asked, stepping towards you.

Suddenly you remembered just who you were saved by and the unsafe feeling crept back. Quickly standing you replied; “yeah-yeah I’m good thank you. Even though I had the situation under control.” You cleared your throat and laughed, trying to lighten the mood and hide your fear.

“Aight, that’s good. You need me to walk you home? It’s not safe out here at night, if you haven’t noticed.” He spoke, the distorter gone. You could tell he was laughing at his own little joke and smiled. He was scary looking and had a dark aura, but his voice was so comforting.

“Yeah, please. That was lowkey kind of scary.” You say, walking out of the alley with the tall, dark prowler towering over you. Just his aura and looking alone scared off people, and you had him following behind like a guard dog.

Your house was kind of a long walk, and awkward silence was creeping up. “So, what’s ya’ name?” He asked, peering down but his head still tilted up. “Y/N..think i already know yours” you laughed a little, earning an un-seen grin but content a hum from the prowler.

“You know.. I thought you were a old man but lowkey, you sound kinda young” you called him out, looking back while walking then quickly turning back. “Let’s just say we’re around the same age” the prowler replied, shrugging off the indirect question.

Finally, the silence between the both of you was more comfortable. Enjoying the beauty and dangers of the neon-lit city, it’s graffiti and lights. You came to a stop in-front of a town house, turning back to the prowler.

“Thank you for everything, really.” You smiled at him, a genuine look in your eyes he had never received from anyone while in this suit. “Yeah it was no problem hermosa ..” he shrugged again, this time also shrugging off the heat that rose to his cheeks. You smiled as your cheeks got hot at the nickname, the way his voice was breathy and he rolled his r had you freaking out internally.

“Hope to see you around, without me being in danger that is” you laughed, walking up the steps and opening your door. “See you around” was all he could manage to say as he watched you walk up the steps and into your house.

He hummed to himself before walking into an alleyway and clawing his way up a building so he could easily jump roof to roof, on his way to meet his uncle.

“Y/N..” he whispered to himself, a smile across his lips.

#spider verse #prowler!miles x reader #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #x reader #greatusultimatus

[kitashousewife]

“so, what was it this time?”

“osamu!” you shriek, nearly jumping out of your skin when you round corner and find the grey-haired miya leaning against your kitchen counter.

eating your chips.

“i thought i locked the door,” you mumble, throwing the fridge open with a huff. your eyes land on a bottle of wine from a week ago, one you got after your last date.

“i have a key,” he says, mouth full of chips. “besides, ya texted me to come over, remember?”

you’re drinking straight out of the bottle, rolling your eyes at both his attitude and the dribble of wine that falls down your chin and onto your pajama shirt. he’s right, you texted him the second your date dropped you off. it was awful, and who better to complain about it to than your best friend.

“yeah, i do.” you put the bottle down, sliding it across the counter to osamu who slides it back and shakes his head.

“well, let’s hear it then.” osamu picks a couple more chips out of the bag, gesturing toward you. only then do you realize he’s still in his work clothes, black t shirt and onigiri miya, even his apron is loosely wrapped around his hips.

“it was awful, worst one yet. he didn’t even pick me up. sent an uber to get me,” osamu interjects with a snicker. you continue. “i get to the restaurant, and he didn’t even acknowledge me when i sat down! just nodded at like like some dog while he talked on the phone to who knows who for at least 10 minutes.”

osamu nods, seemingly unamused.

“then he spent the entire dinner telling me about how much money he makes, the cars he owns and his latest vacation.”

“business man?”

“actor.”

osamu laughs out loud. “in anything good? anything i’ve seen?”

“well if it’s good, we all know you haven’t seen it,” you hoist yourself onto the counter across from osamu as he shakes his head. “but no, commercials mostly. he said he was really hoping to get on that one soap opera, the-“

“so he was a self absorbed asshole?”

“pretty much,” you nod, picking at your nails. “such a waste of my time! i couldn’t believe it. by the time i finished my food his was untouched! he was yapping the entire time.”

you continue on, gesturing wildly about yet another guy who took up your friday night. and it ended the same as all the others: you, sitting in your pajamas while osamu listens, eating your snack. usually, after an hour or so, you let your feelings out and head to bed, leaving osamu to head back to his own place.

tonight though, he doesn’t want that outcome.

truthfully he’s had it. he’s sick of these guys, tired of hearing about how you’re getting treated when he’s fully capable of doing it himself.

“stop spending your nights with these losers, let a real man take ya out.”

you exhale. “i’ve been trying! not my fault i keep getting set up with them.”

osamu groans while he chews the remainder of the chips, tossing the once full bag into the trash.

“i have someone to set ya up with,” he returns to his spot, directly in front of you and crosses his arms.

“please, who is it? after all this time you finally have someone?”

he nods. “he’s tall, dark hair, has a good job. his own business, actually.”

you hum, kicking your feet back lazily off the counter. he takes a step closer.

“he loves his momma, a real mommas boy type. he’s on time, respectful, and knows how to treat ya like a real woman.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and just who would that be?”

he places his arms on either side of your thighs, trapping you on the counter.

“yer lookin’ at him, sweetheart.”

#osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader fluff #miya osamu x reader #osamu fluff #osamu x you #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

[captainamericasmotercycle]

secretary

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: smut, MINORS DNI, 18+, kind of dark!hotch, cheating themes, boss/secretary, p in v sex, cursing, office sex, semi-public sex, female reader (afab reader), dark themes

wc: 1.7k

a/n: if you do not like reading a boss/secretary relationship or cheating - DO NOT READ. i put warnings for a reason so please, if you know you’re not going to enjoy it, save yourself the time and skip over it. my writing is not for everyone. also I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING. just because i write about it does not mean i condone it in real life - all of my works are purely fictional for entertainment.

*smut under the cut

You began working as Aaron Hotchner’s secretary about 8 months ago.

When you first started at the BAU, it was an understatement to say you were intimidated, but as you broke down the emotional walls of your boss, everything became better.

You didn’t travel with the team, but you waited for their return from every case. But mostly Aaron’s return.

Anyone in a 10 mile radius could see the tension between you two, though you denied your crush on him, and him, you.

He would never admit his attraction to you, he was married for God’s sake! But his marriage was failing and everyone knew. While he suppressed his feelings for you, they only grew stronger, with every waking day.

But in your case, who wouldn’t fall for the strong, head-strong, tall, damaged, father?

Both of you kept your relationship professional, albeit, tonight in particular seemed different. Aaron was locked in his office as normal, and you worked at your desk in the bullpen, silently.

Except, you were the only two left on your floor. The clock on your computer shifted to 11:26 as you yawned. Scanning the room, you looked up to Aaron’s office, still seeing him hunched over his work.

Stalking up the stairs to the higher level of offices, you knocked softly on the door. A low, come in, followed.

You entered the room, he didn’t look up at you, but God, did he look hot.

“You need to go home, Agent Hotchner. It’s almost 11:30, I’m sure your wife and son are waiting for you,” he finally looked up from his papers.

“Jack’s at a friend’s tonight and Haley is out of town. I’m fine, go ahead and head out.”

You knew it was wrong but you felt bolder tonight, something took over you. You walked behind his desk, looming behind his chair, you set your hands on his shoulders, moving them slowly in a massaging manner, “You’re too tense, Agent Hotchner. You need to go home, too.”

He froze in his chair, is this some fantasy he’s hallucinating? Are you really here or is he just exhausted?

You lowered you hands to his pecs, leaning over his shoulder, “Come on, Agent, it’s late.”

This feels real, but is it?

He says your name firmly, but you don’t stop. You lightly kiss his cheek, feeling his stubble on your lips.

He knows it’s wrong, but he deserves this. He leans back into your touch as you kiss down his neck.

He pulls away from you and stands up. Grabbing your waist, he pulls your lips to his, harshly. Your hands rest on his torso as one of his rests behinds your head and the other on your ass.

As he deepens the kiss, he moves both hands to your ass, squeezing tightly, under your short skirt.

Picking you up with his brute strength, he sets you on his clean, organized desk. He pulls from your lips and gets down on his knees at the edge of the desk.

Yanking down your skirt and underwear, he shoves his head between your thighs, licking a rough stripe from your asshole to your clit.

He maneuvers his tongue between your folds at a rapid pace, provoking a roaring moan. Your clit throbs as he circles it with his tongue and sucks at it. You keep a firm grip on his hair, driving his face deeper into you.

He pushes you to an orgasm quicker than you’d like, you don’t want this to end. As you cum, your legs shake over his shoulders with pleasure.

He rises from your sex and presses a hard kiss to your lips. He forces off your blouse and bra, taking a breast into his mouth. He moans at the feeling, you feel the vibrations in your chest. Pulling away, he lightly grazes your nipple with his teeth.

Fiddling with his belt, he finally gets it off and nearly jumps out of his pants. He pumps his erection a couple of times before pushing it into you.

He grabs you hips, pulling you closer to him. Your hips slam into his. As he begins to thrust into you, he presses both his large hands to your tits, using them as a grip to move quicker.

Neither of you can barely contain your moans, screaming out into the empty office.

Your back arches off the desk, “Oh my fuck,” you shiver with arousal.

The quiet office, now becoming loud, would most have definitely caused an uproar if the office had been full.

He thrusts hard, hitting his pelvis to yours, which is most definitely going to bruise. As you approach another orgasm, he pulls out of you, making you gasp at the sudden loss of contact.

He flips you over and has you bent at the waist over his desk. He pulls his hand back and lands a firm, rough slap to your ass, leaving a red handprint. He smacks you another time and you moan out.

Aaron bends down to whisper in your ear, “Do you know how long I’ve waited for something like this.”

He shoves his cock into your cunt, creating a fast, but steady pace. He holds down your hips on the desk.

He lands another slap on your ass, “This is what you deserve, after walking around in your short skirts, teasing me during meetings, and getting me hard during work.”

Tears rolls down your cheeks, “I don’t regret any of it, Aaron,”

“We’re on first name basis, now, are we?”

You shivered at his gravelly voice, “No, sir,” stuttering out, he spanked you again.

“Good girl.”

As he continued to move, you felt his pace falter, he pulled out of you and finished himself over your red, handprint stained ass.

“Fuck,” he breathed out heavily, leaving back in his chair.

You stood from your position and rubbed your sore ass.

You stalked over to him, straddling yourself over his bare lap, you grab his tie, pulling yourself to his face. You kiss him gently on the mouth.

He wants to pull away but he just can’t. As you move in for another kiss he turns his head, “This is wrong, Y/N.”

“I know,”

“We shouldn’t be doing this, I’m married,”

“I know,”

“I need to stop,”

“Mhm,” you hummed as you placed soft kisses along his jawline.

You shifted your body over him, making him hard once again.

“Fuck it,” he lifted you from his lap onto his cock.

Holding your hips, he bounced you up and down his shaft. You kept your arms over his shoulders as you breathlessly rode him.

You rolled your hips over his and he whimpered. Fucking whimpered.

You kept going as he let out obscene sounds. As he was about to cum again, he pushed you off and stood up.

You stood vulnerably in front of him, fully nude, watching as he finished himself off over some blank paper. You watched his seed drench something that wasn’t you.

Why wouldn’t he just cum in you?

“Aaron, you don’t have to do that,” he came closer to you, his eyes dark.

“I do. I’m not trying to get my fucking secretary fucking pregnant,” you rolled your eyes at him and went for another kiss, he hesitantly reciprocated.

God, this is so wrong.

He picked you up, shoving your back against the wall. He had you pinned between him and the wall, your legs around his waist. Nipping at your neck, you arched your back. He teased your entrance with his tip, just grazing over the sensitive areas.

He did this until you begged him to get inside of you, “Please, Aar-, Sir, I need you,”

“Again?” Letting out a strangled moan, his voice got heavy, “Use your words,”

“Yes, fuck, I need you,”

He slowly let you drift onto his cock. Keeping you up against the wall, he was practically fucking you into the wall, his hips moved at a rapid pace.

Your tits sprung up and down, forcing a tugging feeling on your torso, only adding to you pleasure.

You watched Aaron’s face as he fucked you. You watched the sweat bead on his forehead and the rough ridges between his furrowed brows. You watched as his focus on your tits only grew.

It was like a scene right out of a porno.

Your walls clenched around his hard cock, and he pulled out once again. He dropped you down from the wall and pushed you down to your knees.

You stared as his impressive endowment before taking it into your mouth quickly. He watched from above as you looked up at him.

He watched your eyes flutter and your pretty little mouth around him. He watched as you worked up and down his shaft, only growing closer to an orgasm.

He felt a knot in his stomach, knowing he was about to cum again. With your mouth still on him, he let go, his cum shooting into you, hitting the back of your throat. He watched as you pulled back at the contact and swallowed.

You pulled away from him and quietly gathered your things and got dressed. Before walking out of his office he landed another slap on your ass.

You stopped at the door and turned to him, “Call me, if you ever get bored of your wife.”

Walking down from his office and across the bullpen, Aaron watched you sway to the elevators from his window.

As you stepped out of the elevators, you said goodbye to the night time security guards on the way to the parking garage. They did not miss your completely disheveled look and slight limp in your walk.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

“I’m perfect,” you smiled at them as you left.

The next morning, you walked into work, with a smile on your face and the tightest skirt you could manage.

Aaron peered through his office window, watching you flirt with Spencer. As Spencer looked away from you with a blush, you looked up to Aaron’s office.

He wanted to take you right there. He craved you. And he was so fucked.

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch fic #ssa aaron hotchner

[bakubunny]

a kindhearted hero

mdni: 18+ content. yes, i do check. you will be blocked.

a/n: here’s the full one shot of the opening excerpt i posted recently. special thanks to my lovely mutual, @shinsos-puppet/@arlerts-angel for sparking the idea. i’ve never written eijirou at length in anything, so i really hope i did our sweet, best boy justice. 💜 - bunny

pairing: pro hero!kirishima eijirou x plus size fem!reader

wc: 4.7k

summary: red riot sees you, a civilian, lookin’ cute with your friends and dynamight gets tired of hearing him gush about it. he takes matters into his own hands by being kirishima’s (asshole) wingman. kiri x reader fluff and eventual smut ensues.

tags: pro hero!kirishima; fem!reader; plus size!reader; aged up characters; fluff and smut; mention of alcohol; explicit consent; lots of pet names, pretty girl, baby, babygirl, angel, sweetheart, sweetie, princess, good girl; praise; encouragement; daddy as title (a few lines towards the end); teasing; grinding; nipple play (f receiving); fingering (f receiving); oral sex (f receiving); rough sex; multiple orgasms; pronebone; unprotected sex with a stranger (it’s not even discussed); creampie; kiri is a nervous sweetheart for the first half; kiri is taller now and has bulked tf up; kiri has a huge dick and i’m not sorry; kiri loves soft bodies, i don’t make the rules; kiri gets possessive; strength/muscle kink; manhandling; size kink if you squint a little

excerpt:

Kirishima stopped. He studied your face.

“What?” you asked.

His brow furrowed. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Huh?”

He took your face in his hands. “I’ve been telling you all night how I feel about you, but you don’t believe me.”

You gave a nervous look. He wasn’t wrong.

“Oh, you beautiful girl. I’m gonna fuck that right out of you.”

ok now buckle up buttercup and enjoy the ride. 😘

A scowling blond man walked over from a nook nearby in the club. The closer you looked, it was no less than Dynamight, the number two hero in all of Japan, dressed casually. What the heck was he doing staring you down, a civilian nobody?

“Hey, princess, y’see the guy with the shitty red hair?” he said, pointing in the direction he came from. “‘S Kirishima. He thinks you’re gorgeous, but he’s too much of a wuss to come talk to you. Will you let him buy you a drink so he’ll shut his damn mouth?”

There was only one redhead with “shitty hair” you’d ever heard of in the news in relation to Dynamight, but it couldn’t be that one, right?…

“I-I’m sorry, what?” you said.

You smiled, holding back a look of disbelief, but he must have caught it. He sighed loudly and turned to look the other way. It was dark enough that you couldn’t quite make out the man in the distance.

“Oi! Shitty hair! Get’cher ass over here, she’s not buyin’ it,” he shouted with an irritated look.

A tall, broad-shouldered redhead got up and began moving towards your table, head tucked down and rubbing his neck. He looked up and met your eyes, smiling with cheeks almost as red as his hair. It was that redhead - Red Riot, to be exact. Your eyes went wide and your face flushed.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I think you’re at the wrong table,” you said, flustered.

This has to be a joke, right? He can’t be serious. There’s no way someone like him could be interested in you. You’d heard and seen in interviews that Dynamight wasn’t exactly nice, but he wouldn’t pull some sort of childish stunt like this as an adult, would he? As a pro hero?

“No, I’m not at the wrong fucking table,” he sneered, crossing his arms.

Red Riot approached the both of you. “Sorry about him, he can be a bit of an ass. I don’t-”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m doing you a favor,” Dynamight said, cutting him off. He turned to you. “This is my friend Kirishima, also known as Red Riot. You should give him a chance.”

Dynamight turned back to Kirishima. “You’re fucking welcome. Play nice,” he said, giving him a clap on the shoulder before walking away.

You both froze awkwardly for a moment before breaking into quiet laughter. He looked you in the eye with a smile.

“I uh…. I hope that’s okay, though,” he said nervously. “You’re absolutely stunning. I’d love to buy you a drink.”

You blushed, smiling in return. “I’d like that a lot.”

You glanced to the two friends you came with that night for approval. The look they had was what you’d expected; one that said, “Are you crazy?? Go!” but they grinned nonetheless as you stood from the seat you were at.

******

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the dimness of the atmosphere. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard for this guy. But you’d swear Kirishima looked even prettier in real life than anything you’d ever seen or imagined. Shaggy hair, clean and pulled back into a messy bun instead of his signature spiked style, stray pieces falling around his face at the front. Crimson eyes that were bright with joy and crinkled at the corners when he laughed. Slightly tanned skin from spending almost a decade on the field as a pro hero. Laugh lines that had barely begun to settle in from sun exposure and his brilliant, sharp toothed smile that rarely seemed to fade. Though it was only the two of you in your little corner, he had the ability to light up a room just by being there.

And it was hard to believe that he was here, sitting knee to knee with you. Showering you with compliments. Listening intently as he learned the details of your civilian life. Asking questions about your pets, excitedly gushing over pictures, and showing interest in your career. Brushing his thigh against yours. Leaning in to hear what you had to say. Turning faintly pink when you grasped his hand with a laugh before quickly pulling away with a blush of your own. Reaching for your hand and holding it under the table…. Yours was small in his massive hand, and despite being well used and calloused, they were still so soft. (He claimed his friend Ashido once told him he “needed to moisturize his scratchy skin,” and found that it helped him heal, so he stuck with it.)

Kirishima had this innate way of making you feel protected, and you’re pretty sure it had nothing to do with his hero status. All while making the apex of your thighs hot and your cheeks warm.

Okay, so you had to admit, you’d secretly had a little bit of a crush on Red Riot - now Kiri, he’d insisted - before you met him tonight. He was handsome, strong, kind, and humble in any media you’d ever seen him in. Who could blame you for swooning a little inside every time you saw him? (No one. That’s who.) The best part was that none of it was fake. He was honest, sincere, and you could see it in his eyes.

Minutes turned into hours. You’d both switched to drinking water long ago. The number of people in the club had started to dwindle. Yet you were still wrapped up in conversation.

He’d assured your friends that you’d get home safely - a hero’s promise - when they stopped by to say they were heading out. Gave Bakugou (was that what Kiri called him?) a smile and nod of acknowledgement as he and a few other hero faces you recognized from the media moved towards the door. The hero with pink skin and a brightly colored dress gave an excited wave goodbye as they passed. Come to think of it, you were surprised he wasn’t with her, another hero. A pretty hero. But you noticed Bakugou’s hand guiding her by the small of her back, keeping her close as they worked their way through the crowd. You shoved those thoughts down as Kirishima gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Listen, I know it’s getting late, but I don’t want this to end,” Kirishima said. “I promised I would get you home safely, and I’ll do that. Buuuut if you want, we can go back to my place and watch a movie.”

He caught the flicker of hesitation on your face, silently wondering if this had been his goal all along, but not opposed to the idea.

His face grew red, eyes wide at what he might be suggesting. “I did mean just a movie! You’re really beautiful and nice to talk to, that’s all I meant. I’m not looking for a fling. Please, don’t get the wrong impression,” he rambled quickly. “B-but I do want that with you! I want you, I just-”

“Kiri. Slow down. It’s okay.” You gave a reassuring smile.

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he smiled as he tucked his head, rubbing his neck. You noticed the way his nervous habit highlighted his massive bicep and shoulder.

“I think that sounds great. I’d love to spend more time with you… no matter what that looks like,” you said, heat rushing to your face as you caught his glance again.

His eyes held a glimmer of hope as he looked down at you. “Really?”

“As long as you can promise me I’ll get a proper date someday soon,” you replied.

“You got it, pretty girl. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, grinning.

There was a shift in the silence you shared. Kirishima hesitated, a question in his eyes.

“Can I?…”

“Yes.”

His free hand reached for your face and pulled you in eagerly for a kiss, full of heat and tenderness as your lips met. It knocked the air out of you as your fingers tightened around the hand entwined in your own beneath the table. It was gentle, slow, his thumb stroking your cheek for a moment. Heat built rapidly between your legs, almost throbbing at his touch.

When the kiss broke, you stared into those gorgeous red eyes knowing you were absolutely fucked. This man had you, and there was no way you’d let him go.

******

The door closed with a soft click as you slipped off your shoes. You turned to Kirishima and realized that he was bigger than you’d thought in dim lighting. He was taller, broader, bulkier than the image you’d had in your head.

“So,” you said.

“So,” he repeated.

A shared laugh broke the tension. Kirishima reached for your face with both hands and leaned in to kiss you, pulling the breath right out of your chest again. It was all consuming, the way his hands cradled your face, fingers already tangling in the hair around your neck. His kisses were warm and sweet.

“Come here,” he whispered as he lifted you into his arms.

You let out a small yelp as he did, wrapping yourself around him more to keep from falling than anything else. “What are you doing?”

Kirishima flashed a cheeky grin. “Unless you want me to stop, I’m doing what I want,” he replied, leaning in for another kiss.

It was visceral, how quickly embarrassment and fear flooded your face with heat as you reciprocated. “Y-you don’t - I’m too-”

“Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t even say it.” Kirishima had a sharp look in his eyes.

“But-” you protested.

“Baby, I train six days a week. I save people for a living. I can carry you,” he said, unwavering, a soft smile forming across his lips.

A flash of warmth hit your cheeks again. You buried your face in his shoulder as it hit you just how strong he was. Kirishima chuckled and turned to walk towards what you presumed was his bedroom. His lips met your skin, placing kisses along the side of your neck. You whimpered softly as a shiver slipped down your neck.

“C’mon now, don’t get shy on me,” he teased. “Haven’t even started.”

“Shush you,” you replied.

Every bit of you was growing hotter by the second with Kirishima’s hands on your body and his lips, fucking hell, how did you already feel a little weak? He laid you down on his bed as he leaned back onto his knees. Reverent crimson eyes raked over you in a short sundress, barely riding up to reveal the tops of your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he said quietly.

You blushed and gave him a smile.

There was a twinge in your stomach. A thread of doubt. One that said, “but I still have clothes on.” You pushed it down.

You pulled Kirishima closer as he drew you in with firm kisses and a gentle suck on your bottom lip. With your legs wrapped around his middle, your hands wandering over his back and shoulders, you were still in disbelief that this was happening. His hand ran down your side as he moaned deeply, gripping the soft flesh of your hip. His lips grew needy as they moved down your neck, finding a spot that made you pant as your head spun.

A groan rumbled in his chest, sending chills over your skin as his hips pushed into yours; your eyes snapped open, your throat caught. Kirishima rolled his body into you again and holy fuck he was huge. You let out a high pitched whine rather than the moan you anticipated. There’s no fucking way this man is real, you thought as he continued, pulling soft moans from your lips. You cursed under your breath.

“Hmm?” he said with a tone that suggested he already knew.

“Jus’ feels good,” you replied.

Kirishima kissed his way back to your lips as he pushed harder into you, a louder moan bubbling out of you as your cunt fluttered under the thin panties you wore and the heat of his cock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Y’so big, Kiri,” you said between kisses.

He paused to look you in the eye. “‘S that okay? Won’t hurt my feelings if you say no, honest. I don’t want you t’be scared.”

“More than okay,” you replied, heat rising to your cheeks. “I like it a lot. ‘S what I was kinda hoping for.”

Kirishima's eyes lit up with a flicker of relief as though you’d sung a tune he’d rarely heard. He kissed you hard. “Fuck, you’re just perfect, aren’t you, angel?”

Another thread tugged at your chest. “He’s saying that to sleep with me.”

You smiled playfully. It didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I dunno about perfect, but that’s very sweet of you.”

Kirishima stopped. He studied your face.

“What?” you asked.

His brow furrowed. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Huh?”

He took your face in his hands. “I’ve been telling you all night how I feel about you, but you don’t believe me.”

You gave a nervous look. He wasn’t wrong.

“Oh, you beautiful girl. I’m gonna fuck that right out of you,” he said.

Kirishima crashed his lips into yours, drawing a whimper from your lips. His mouth didn’t leave you for a second as he picked up where you left off, kissing down over your neck and chest, his hands on your ass. He slid your dress up and groaned at the sight.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking soft,” he said, kisses trailing over your stomach. “So pretty. So perfect.”

The heat of his massive hands washed over you as they wandered your body. Kirishima’s fingers dug gently into your flesh. Clothes rapidly began piling onto the floor; his shirt, your dress, his pants, your bra. His hands immediately went for your chest where he scattered kisses on your skin as he groped, moaning softly when his lips took your nipple into his mouth. Your breath grew heavy. You moaned in return as he sucked and licked the swollen bud. The hot ache between your thighs built as he took his time with each one, only encouraged by your whimpering and the way your hips bucked with need. You felt a rush of sensations as Kirishima began grinding his cock into your leg, an empty flutter and a shiver sliding over you. You reached down to relieve your throbbing clit, but he grabbed your wrist.

“Patient girls get what they want. ‘M not done,” he mumbled.

And fuck if that didn’t just make you ache even more. “Kiri, please.…”

Letting go, his hand slid down over your cunt. He gently rubbed and groaned against your skin when your hips pushed into his hand.

“‘S it, pretty girl, show me what you need,” he said.

And you did, moaning and grinding into him. After making quick work of discarding the last of both your clothes, Kirishima opened your legs and cursed. He ran his hands up your thighs, lips not far behind.

Insecurity began to slip away as you saw Kirishima’s cock twitch as it hung, swollen, hard and red at the sight of you. All of him made you hotter - the look in his eye, broad shoulders and thick arms you had been imagining around your legs all night, strong thighs you wished were caging you at the hips, and a heavy cock that had to be as big as your face, so thick you didn’t think you could wrap your hand around it. He was so kind. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, like you’d hung the stars just for him. And he going to fuck you dumb.

A shiver ran down your spine and you blushed.

“You’re amazing,” Kirishima said.

You thought to respond as his mouth reached your inner thigh and you gasped. He slid a thick finger into your cunt and pumped slowly. Already, you could feel yourself fluttering and weeping around his hand as you moaned. He slipped a second finger in, slightly curled and reaching a tender spot you couldn’t quite get on your own.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, angel. Don’t stop, I wanna hear your pretty voice,” he said.

Heat rolled over your body. Kirishima sloppily kissed his way around your pussy, never settling where you wanted him.

“Kiri… need you.”

“Yeah? Whatcha need?” he replied with a little smirk.

Your head fell back, letting out a small groan in frustration as he teased.

“Eyes on me,” Kirishima said.

Heat rushed to your face. You locked eyes with him and reached for his head with a soft “please,” guiding him to your clit. He kissed and licked gently, taking it into his mouth. It didn’t take long for intense pleasure to fall over your body. You grabbed hold of his free hand resting on your stomach as the tension in your body built, legs starting to shake.

Kirishima hummed with satisfaction. “Such a sweetheart. C’mon babygirl, you can do it. Jus’ let go. ‘M right here.”

The skill of his mouth pushed you over the edge. His lust-hooded eyes stared into yours as your climax broke with a whining moan. You trembled as it washed over you. He carried you through with his tongue, treating your cunt with care until your body calmed.

“Good girl,” he said.

Your eyes went wide briefly and he smirked. “You like hearing that?”

“Didn’t expect it,” you said.

“Not what I asked.” Kirishima took his hand from you and stroked his cock, covering himself in your cum.

You weren’t sure how, but the tables had turned; now you were the one who was easily flustered while he had every ounce of confidence and a twinkle in his eye.

“Maybe I did a little, yeah,” you said.

“Good. Now tell me, pretty girl, how do you like to be fucked?” he said.

You grabbed a pillow and laid on your stomach with it under your hips and gave your ass a little shake, smiling back at him. “Like this. Come get it.”

“You’re not gonna let me stare into those gorgeous eyes of yours?” he said playfully, lining himself up behind you, rubbing the head of his cock along your folds.

“Maybe next time I’ll ride you. How’s that?” you quipped, peeking his face for a moment as he huffed a laugh and turned pink.

“Y’ready baby? Might hurt but I promise I’ll be gentle.” The heat and thickness of his cock head had you pushing into him as he teased.

“Yes. I can take it, please,” you said.

“You sure? You sound so pretty like this…” he purred.

You blushed. The sound of your wet cunt was obscene and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

“We can take it easy… go real slow…” he insisted.

“Kiri I swear if you don’t-ohfuckohfuck”

He was already halfway in, pushing deeper as you panted heavily and groaned. Kirishima looked down at you and saw your eyes roll, face laid into the sheets. He pushed himself in fully and you gasped. The slight sting didn’t matter in comparison to the pleasure, goosebumps covering your body.

“Fucking hell Kiri you’re huge and perfect holyshitfucknnngh.”

“Need me to stop already?” His lightly patronizing tone would have been irksome if it weren’t for the fact that you were split wide open and full to the brim with his cock, your pussy clenching hard as he stayed still.

You whipped your head around as far as you could. “Don’t you fucking dare,” you said. It was meant to sound threatening in the same way he had earlier, but it came out desperate and needy. You swallowed hard. “Please.”

You caught him grinning ear to ear as slowly, gently, he started fucking you in long strokes, your moans quickly filling the room. You grabbed another pillow in a vain attempt to muffle the sound. The intensity of the pleasure was overwhelming as your cunt stretched and the sting subsided into bliss.

Kirishima’s hands ran over your ass and up your body as he fucked you, relishing the way your ass moved with him, the way your cunt drew him all the way in over and over as you got wetter. “Fuck you feel so good, angel. Can’t get enough of you. Love watching you take my cock so well. Such a perfect little pussy.”

“Kiri…” you whined, “‘s so good, so fucking good, ‘s perfect.”

Your thoughts were jumbled with the way he had you unraveling with each tender stroke - just enough to feel his hips kissing yours as he pulled you up and into him slightly. The pressure of each thrust against your cunt made you flutter.

“‘N don’t stop after I cum. I can take it,” you said.

You heard a shy laugh behind you. “You like my cock that much, hm?” Kirishima said, leaning down briefly to kiss across your shoulder.

“I do. Y’so fucking big. Feels so good, Kiri. Need you inside me.” Chills ran through you as he hit that deep, sensitive spot behind your cervix that made your feet tingle and your breath stop, orgasm hanging overhead.

“F-fuck, b-baby, right there, don’t stop,” you said. Your mind fell into an empty haze as your legs began to tremble. “I think ‘m c-close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, princess? Gonna cum on my cock without any help?” he replied.

Your answer was in moans as your back arched and your vision went white. The heat of his hands, his grip tightening on your hips, his encouragement had bliss crashing down over you.

“‘S it, that’s what I like to hear. Let it all out. Cum for me, sweetheart. Make a pretty mess on my cock.” Kirishima moaned as he felt you clench hard around him, watching you come undone for a second time. It was dizzying holding himself back, your cunt like a vice he never wanted to leave. His hips stuttered for a moment, but he continued with a low grunt.

“Such a good girl…” Kirishima said, lacing your skin with kisses as his pace increased.

Your head was spinning with pleasure, sensations radiating up your spine, curling down your legs, trying to process his words fully and failing. “Yes, harder. Fuck me. Please, Kiri… please. Need your cock.”

He groaned. “Y’make it so hard not t’cum with you. Y’know that, angel?” Kirishima grabbed a large fistful of hair at the scalp and pulled gently, lifting your face away from anything that could muffle your moans as his hips collided harder into you, sending electricity over your skin as you panted and let out a cry. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. So soft. So beautiful, every part of you. Y’sound so fucking pretty. Y’feel so damn good, I almost couldn’t stop myself.”

His quiet praise hit you hard and unexpectedly - a wave of heat and tension building in your body, amplified by the grip he had on your hair. The previous one had felt like it hardly passed, but another orgasm was winding itself around your core in anticipation.

“Oh fuck, ‘m sorry, I…mmm.” Your knuckles went white gripping the pillow under your head.

“Hey, hey, no sorry,” he said, his grip falling loose and moving to your side. He could feel how close you were getting with every passing movement, willing his body to hold off once more. “I love it. Y’need to cum again, sweetie?”

“Please,” you replied.

You made movement to reach for your clit a second time, but Kirishima’s hand was quick and found its way there first.

“Nuh uh. ‘M gonna make you cum, baby. You just relax. Can y’do that for me?” he said.

“Mhm.” You nodded dumbly, giving in to his request.

Kirishima’s thick fingertips gently rubbed your swollen clit, a whimper at your throat. Goosebumps trailed across your body as pulled you closer, closer, and over the edge as he fucked you. The lewd sound of your cunt as you came on him drove Kirishima crazy, sweat running down his body. He was drunk on your pussy, fucking you still when sensitivity finally hit.

It was overwhelming but not enough all at once, the feeling of his cock bullying your swollen folds. You reached back to stop him, but he grabbed your wrist, looming over you to put it back where it was.

“Kiri, ‘s too much, please,” you said.

“You can take it, babygirl. Just one more for me, yeah? I know you can do it.” Kirishima’s voice was a mixture of sweet and ragged.

You groaned heavily. “One more,” you repeated. “But c’mere, closer.”

He wrapped himself around you, arms sliding under yours, the burning heat and weight of his body against your back. “Like this?”

“Yes, fuck,” you whined.

You could feel sweat on his chest, the movement of each thrust as he started again, every groan, drunk on the girth and heft of his cock slamming into you, his heavy balls hitting your clit.

Your body began to tremble. “Need t’feel you on me, don’ go, please.”

“Aww, y’really are a little sweetheart, huh?” Kirishima cooed. “Just love bein all wrapped up n safe in my arms while I take care of your pretty pussy.”

“Yes, d-mmmfuck.” You cut yourself off and hid your face.

“‘S okay, angel. You can say it if y’want,” he said gently. “Doesn’ bother me.”

“I can’t,” you said, your cheeks hot.

His voice lowered. “Yes you can. Lemme hear it. Say yes, daddy.”

“Yes, daddy,” you replied weakly.

Kirishima’s thrusts got sloppier as hot, wet kisses hit a tender spot on the crook of your neck. You grabbed and kissed his hand and pushed your hips back to meet his thrusts. He growled into your skin.

“‘S it, baby. That’s my girl. That’s my good fucking girl. My pretty little angel. Take my fucking cock,” he said softly, his breath hot against your ear.

“D-don’ say that,” you slurred, knowing full well that he could hear the way you whimpered and moaned when he did. Knowing he could feel you fluttering erratically around him.

“Why not, hmm?” Kirishima replied. “Y’really think ’m gonna let a pretty little thing like you get away after tonight, lookin’ so perfect, cummin’ all over my cock like this? Beggin’ me not to stop cause y’need more? Bein’ so sweet n lovely that I can’t help but fuck you ‘til you fall apart? ‘Til you know I mean what I say?”

Words failed you as he fucked harder, movements sharper as his orgasm neared. Your head fell forward into the sheets with a loud moan. “N-no.”

“‘S right, princess. ‘M not. ‘M gonna keep you ‘s long ‘s you’ll have me.” Kirishima’s muscles burned from exertion as he spoke, but he didn’t care.

He loved the way your breath went quick and shallow when he found just the right spot that made you tremble, savored the way your moans grew louder and your eyes rolled the harder he went. He got lost in the heat of your breath and the taste of your skin, the perfect way he could rail into you without being gentle or holding back because you needed every bit of him. It made his skin hot, the absolute mess you were making around his cock, fluttering and squeezing him hard enough to lose his damn mind as he moaned into your ear, his grip around your body getting tighter.

“Don’ stop, daddy, please. ‘M close,” you said. It was intoxicating, the way his skin felt against yours, the way each thrust knocked a little bit of the breath out of your lungs as another orgasm drew near. “Cum with me?”

“‘S that what you want, angel? Want me t’cum inside you?” he asked.

“Please, wanna feel you cum,” you said.

Kirishima groaned low in his chest as his need for you took over. His lips and teeth continued to graze your skin with open mouthed kisses as he came, his throbbing cock pushing you over the edge a final time as he fucked you full of cum. You laid together panting until silence took hold.

After a quiet moment, Kirishima pulled out and spread your ass gently, watching his cum trickle down your swollen pussy and thick, soft thighs.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

mdni banner created by the lovely @cafekitsune.

manga color edit is mine @bakubunny.

#y’all i almost scrapped this thing with >100 words left #usually i feel moderately okay abt my smut but this one is big yikes #another big dick + pronebone fic bc i have a preference and no shame #i swear i’m not trying to make every fic the same i just know what i like to read 👀 #bakugou is a half decent wingman #millennialmagicalgirl #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #boku no hero #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #x reader #fem!reader #plus size!reader #smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha fic #kirishima smut #kirishima x you

[taevbears]

To Be Loved - 01

Here's where she meets prince charming.

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 5.2k ⤑ warnings: DEPICTIONS OF READER IN A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP (i.e, manipulation, domestic/verbal abuse, threats, degradation, violence toward reader), bullying toward reader, the "gaston" character is a straight-up asshole lmao, hyrbids are treated as second-class humans, description of bodily harm, sexual harassments, minor violence, based off 2013 namjoon in this chapter lol. please be mindful of the warnings!!⤑ note: happy birthday, namjoon!! while i was taking a break from magic shop, i've been working on a couple other projects and i finally finished one. it's truly a coincidence that i completed this story today lol. this story is loosely based off beauty & the beast but with hybrids.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)

It was a dark and stormy night.

Flickering fluorescent lights. The heat of the jeering crowd. Grey concrete in the old warehouse. Speakers reverberating a deep bass that fills the room. Thunder is drowned out as two amateur rappers spit lines on the small stage, eliciting reactions from the audience before them.

One of the contestant’s attention drifts to the crowd until he makes eye contact with you. It seems like he was looking for you. The moment you raise your hand to offer a tiny, half-hearted wave, the corners of his lips tug to a haughty smirk. Then, with the microphone to his lips, he puffs out his chest, turns back to his opponent, and begins rapping.

You’re less than impressed when he finishes his turn and is declared the winner of the round.

To be fair, however, this isn’t your scene. It’s too loud. Too rowdy.

If it were up to you, you’d be at home. Safe and cozy in your warm bed, curled up to a good book or movie. Initially, you didn’t even want to come, complaining that the weather is awful, the venue is too small, the floors are sticky, and that there are too many people.

But he insisted that you come tonight. For him.

One of his friends has her arm linked with yours, anchoring you to her. Her eyes are bright with excitement as she screams in your ear, “Fighting! Kangdae!”

The one you’re all here to see stands on the stage, relishing in the audience’s attention. There’s a smug look on his face when he meets your gaze, as if checking to see if you’re just as impressed with his performance as the rest of the audience is.

Politely, you clap your hands, not quite sure what the etiquette for these types of things are.

The host continues to rile up the crowd, daring any of the other contestants to step forward and challenge Kangdae.

No one does.

Except for one.

Silence follows as a lanky, tall contestant comes onstage. One that no one has heard from yet. Sunglasses cover his eyes, but you can make out some of his predominant features: his full lips, the deep dimples in his shy smile, his tanned skin.

“Okay, kid,” the host says, intrigued. “Show us what you got.”

The kid is handed a mic. Kangdae looks him up and down and scoffs.

The difference between the two is telling. 

Kangdae lives for the attention, wildly gesturing and getting into his opponent’s face. He encourages the crowd to cheer him on like that. Their hoots and hollering pumps the adrenaline in his veins as he verbally attacks the guy ballsy enough to challenge him.

His opponent, to your surprise, stands quietly as he’s thrown insult after insult. Then, when it’s his turn, the room falls in awe. His flow makes him sound professional, even though he sounds quite young. You’re impressed with his wordplay, how he keeps up with the rhythm, how he delivers the lines.

He’s by far your favorite of all the ones you’ve heard tonight.

There’s a clear winner after the boy with sunglasses is done, though rather than shove his victory at his opponent’s face, he holds out his hand to Kangdae and offers a dimpled smile.

Rap Monster.

That’s what they call him.

And as Kangdae bitterly shakes his hand, stunned at the turn of events, you’re beginning to see why they call him that.

In your small, provincial town, Kangdae has it all. He’s a handsome young man, athletic and popular. His family is well-off; so much so that he can indulge in expensive clothing brands, own the newest models and gadgets, and party every weekend at some bougie club or resort. Guys look up to him. Girls are in love with him. He lives off the attention and praise from his big circle of friends.

And yet, for whatever shallow reason, he seems fixated on you.

Unlike Kangdae, you hate being in the spotlight. It makes you shy. It makes you feel nervous. You tend to keep to yourself because of that, reading books or watching animal videos on your phone. You feel like you hardly have any friends in the town.

Then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, Kangdae declares he wants you to be his girl.

And suddenly, you’re on everybody’s radar.

Why would someone so brilliant and outgoing even be interested in a boring and quiet person like you? 

That’s a question even you often wonder.

Finding the answers to that, however, becomes unwarranted.

People start to talk to you. People you’ve never spoken to before suddenly act friendly toward you. People who’ve never spared you a glance suddenly want to know all your dirty secrets. People who don’t even know you begin to spread rumors.

“The whole town already knows you’re my girl,” Kangdae tells you one day, while you’re sitting on the steps of your house, eyes red from tears of a recent bullying incident. He doesn’t seem to care about that though. In fact, you’re certain he’s even laughed about it at your expense. “Why don’t we just make it official? You’re not dating anyone, are you?”

“Are you even attracted to me?” you ask him seriously.

He shrugs. “Yeah, you’re hot. I heard quiet girls can get quite freaky too.”

“No way,” you cut in, repulsed by his insinuation. You stand on your feet, turning to go inside. “I’ll never–”

Before you could open the door, you’re suddenly shoved against it. Kangdae towers over you, anger burning in his eyes. He’s never been rejected. He always gets his way. 

It’s something you learn the hard way.

“Then I’ll make sure your life continues to be a living hell,” he threatens before he releases you.

More than before, unwanted attention is thrown at you. As soon as you enter the classroom, people stare and sneer. You hear them whisper about you in the hallways. You’re confronted in small groups. Accusations that you think you’re too good to be dating someone like Kangdae. How there must be something wrong with you.

In the eyes of many, Kangdae is perfect. Objectively handsome. Popular among his peers. Comes from money. All the guys you know want to be him. All the girls you know want to be with him. What makes a nobody like you think that you can do better?

You hardly had any friends in the town, but not once have you ever felt this isolated. You’ve never felt this singled-out. It feels like the whole world is against you.

You can’t take it.

“Kangdae,” you call out to him, stopping as he’s about to head to the field. He’s dressed in his sports uniform, about to go into a match against another school. “One date.”

A Cheshire smile spreads across his face. “I knew you wouldn’t resist, babe.”

You try not to cringe when he plants a wet kiss on your cheek.

Maybe you’re naïve. But maybe that’s why Kangdae is after you.

You’re quiet, soft-spoken, and incredibly shy. You don’t have a lot of friends, and you haven’t had a serious relationship before him. You don’t know anything about what love really is. Yet, despite what an odd loner you are, you’re a beautiful girl. Innocent and loyal to a fault. An easy target for Kangdae to walk all over. 

With his hand around your waist, you feel like an accessory. Before you ever considered dating him, he already declared you as his girlfriend, telling even strangers that he passed by that you would one day be his.

“Right from the moment I saw you, I think I fell in love,” he admits on your first date, taking you to a nice, upscale restaurant. It’s different from anything you’ve experienced in your small town. The menu items are so expensive, it doesn't list pricing, and each course that is presented at your table is like a work of art.

What’s most interesting about this restaurant, however, isn’t just the food. But the staff.

Gorgeous women in white blouses and black skirts that show off their voluptuous curves and long legs. Poking at the back of the skirts are tails. And on their heads are pairs of animal ears. Some of them have stripes or spots on their skin, some have nails as sharp as claws, and some have unique eyes like cats and reptiles. 

Hybrids.

Neither human, nor animal. But something in-between.

In your town, coming across them is rare but not unheard of. They usually dwell in the cities, where sanctuaries housing them are. Some are adopted into families or are hired to do difficult and dirty work with an employer willing to work with them. But most aren’t as lucky, and are treated as sub-human. Worse than how some people care for their beloved cat or dog.

“What makes you say that?” you ask Kangdae as a bunny hybrid brings out the next course. She, like the other hybrids, is quite beautiful.

“Because you’re gorgeous,” he simply states as he sips on some liquor. Then, suddenly, he smacks the hybrid’s ass. “Hey, isn’t my girlfriend gorgeous?”

“Kangdae!” 

“Yes, sir,” the hybrid quickly answers before practically running away from the table. You feel awful, but Kangdae cackles as if it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen all evening.

“Babe, don’t be mad. She’s just a hybrid.”

One date turns into another. He showers you with expensive gifts, and takes you out to luxurious places. Sometimes, it’s nice. You never imagined you’d be leaning against the railing of a yacht, feeling the salt air against your skin as the boat cruises through deep blue waters. Or fine dining at rooftop restaurants in the big cities with a breathtaking view of the skylines.

You find yourself watching underground rap contests, and witnessing the skill and poetry of a particular contestant that caught your attention once. A tall boy with a thick pair of sunglasses and a dimpled smile.

Other times, it can feel overwhelming. Like you’re undeserving all the things that he bombards you with, and you owe it to him for one more date. One more party he wants you to come with him too. One more ‘this is the last time’ before he asks you again.

He introduces you to his friends, showing you off to them despite how out of place you feel among them. He texts and calls you all the time, wanting to know where you are and who you’re with, and letting you know that he’s thinking about you in persistent, long messages. He posts about you on his social media, calling you his girl, as engagements of likes, views, and comments fill underneath it.

People tell you all the time that you’re lucky though.

Of all the girls he could’ve been with, he picked you. Someone handsome, rich, and popular fell in love at first sight with a boring, quiet, lonely girl like you.

And maybe that’s why you stay. Who else would love you if not him?

Next week, you find yourself in the same, abandoned warehouse. Another night, another show. Another chance for Kangdae to redeem himself.

One thing about him is that he hates to lose. His pride just wouldn’t allow it.

Yet, once again, he doesn’t stand a chance.

This time, Rap Monster seems to be the crowd favorite. Everyone cheers for him once he steps onstage, wearing the same dark sunglasses over his eyes. He seems a bit more confident as he raps, his flow and rhythm even better than last week.

You feel like a fan as you and your group stand close to the stage. Although you’re supposed to be there for Kangdae, you can’t help but cheer his opponent on. Your heart jumps when you see Rap Monster catch your eye and give you a dimpled smile, bowing like a prince when he ends his round.

A shift can be felt once it’s Kangdae’s turn with the mic. People in your group and some of the audience make some noise, but the majority of strangers in the crowd are merely nodding along or quietly listening. 

Until the first heckle comes. Followed by someone else yelling at him to get off the stage.

Mean laughter fills the room, and you almost feel bad for Kangdae.

Had it not been for what he does next.

Gasps and exclamations of shock are followed when he suddenly punches Rap Monster.

“Hey, no! You can’t do that shit!” the host yells as the security guards make haste to handle the situation. They pull Kangdae away, trying to de-escalate, but it’s too late. The crowd gets riled up, shouting and egging him on. Two men have to hold Kangdae down, but he’s strong. He nearly manages to break free and get to Rap Monster’s face a couple times. Rap Monster’s sunglasses are knocked off, and he’s holding his face with one hand, covering an eye.

Because when he opens the other one… it looks strange.

It doesn’t look human.

A couple people up front scream in terror as they point at him. “A monster!”

“He’s one of them!” another shouts in disgust. “He’s a hybrid!”

Suddenly, the room seems to quiet down as they all look at him, stunned, horrified, disgusted. You could see him trying to hide his face as the host snaps at him, “This event is for humans only!”

The sunglasses have fallen near you, and without thinking, you quickly grab them and climb onto the stage. You don’t know what’s gotten over you. You hate attention. You hate being in the spotlight. You’re often shy and insecure, and always stay in your lane.

But you have to help.

“Here,” you tell him gently, pushing the broken sunglasses toward his hand. Up this close, you feel so small standing next to him. “You should get out of here.” 

He nods his head and takes them from you, seeming grateful and a little scared. His eyes look reptilian like a serpent, but they’re pretty. You feel like you can’t forget them.

In the innermost area of the iris, near his slightly vertical pupil, is a hint of warm brown, but the rest is a mix of deep blue and purple. The color of indigo. 

“Get away from her, you beast,” Kangdae commands, but Rap Monster is already walking away from the stage. Away from you.

Somehow, the rain outside seems to pour harder as he leaves.

It’s been years since that night.

Kangdae seemed over it, wanting to chase his fifteen minutes of fame elsewhere. And while you were interested in one of the rappers, you aren’t keen enough to keep going back. It isn’t like that Rap Monster would be welcomed at the future showings anyway.

However, you start listening to hip-hop music more than other genres these days. Secretly hoping that, if you’re to meet him again, maybe the two of you could talk about some of the artists you like. Books that you’ve read, movies you’ve seen.

But you haven’t seen him since.

You end up working for Kangdae’s family. In such a small, provincial town, there isn’t much of an option. His family seems to own and have connections to everything.

To the point where even your family tells you how lucky you are. Kangdae is a catch. Marrying him would guarantee a well-off life with someone objectively handsome, who thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, who you’d be out of your mind to leave or break things off with.

Although your father and your siblings mean well, you could only nod in defeat. You can’t bear to tell them how miserable you are with Kangdae.

The same man who tells you you’re the one for him, but flirts with other women in front of you. Who gets angry over little things and takes it out on you, screaming at your face, throwing things that nearly hit you, punching holes in walls and doors, or leaving you confused and worried for days without a word until he finally decides to come back. He’d shower you with expensive gifts and affection to make up for it, but his sweeter side never stays long before the cycle repeats.

And you can’t seem to find your way out of it.

The constant pressure to be with Kangdae has you wishing you could just disappear from the town.  To run away from it all and never go back.

But you’re a coward, and you don’t know where else to go. Everyone in town likes Kangdae, and even your family wouldn’t believe what a monster he really is.

In the apartment you share with him, it’s dark and empty. Empty bottles of soju and beer are on the coffee table, dirty dishes are in the sink for you to clean, there’s still a gaping hole in the pantry from an argument a couple weeks ago that hasn’t been fixed. But Kangdae’s shoes aren’t by the door, and you don’t imagine he’d be back anytime soon.

With a quiet, defeated sigh, you take off your shoes and your coat, place your purse down, and begin cleaning up the mess. You go through the motions of it, exhausted from work, from having more to do once you get home, and as you gather the bottles, you see that he’s placed some on top of a book.

A fairy tale story about a far-off place, daring sword fights, and a prince in disguise.

It’s your favorite. The local librarian gave it to you as a gift, and Kangdae is using it as a coaster. And one of the half-empty bottles has spilled over, soaking through the pages.

Angry, you drop the bag on the ground, letting the bottles clatter against each other, and pick up the book, trying to salvage the ruined cover. But rings of liquid stain the front, and the pages are wrinkled from the liquid, blurring the texts so they’re unreadable.

Even before, the book is already a bit worn-out when it was gifted to you, but it still makes you want to cry. Kangdae doesn’t seem to care about you at all anymore.

How much longer are you going to put up with this? Shouldn’t you deserve your own happiness? Shouldn’t you deserve to be loved? 

You have to leave him. You don’t know when. You don’t know how. But you have to. 

That much you know.

Your plans are foiled by a single question.

“Will you marry me?”

Horror strikes your face. Down on one knee before you is Kangdae with a beautiful diamond ring. You could feel every person in the room staring at you, waiting for an answer. All his friends, your family, and even random strangers at the venue are gathered unexpectedly and witnessing his proposal. Wide smiles and excited looks surround you, as if they already know you’ll say yes.

Do you want to say yes?

Are you going to tell him no? In front of all these people?

“Kangdae, I—” you start to say, your voice trembling. You could feel the pressure weighed upon you, setting you close to a panic.

Your boyfriend doesn’t notice how uncomfortable you are. He’s busy flashing a bright, charming smile at the anticipating crowd for his big moment. His smile starts to falter when you take too long to respond.

Behind the smile, you could almost sense it. The heat of his anger.

You have to say something. You have to decide.

You have to tell him no.

“I…” you begin again. Your gaze catches Kangdae’s family, and how they nod their head, encouraging you to continue. Your voice is very soft and almost defeated when you say, “Okay.”

“Yes? You’re saying yes?” Kangdae exclaims loudly as the people around cheer and clap. You even see some girls start to burst into tears. Girls you know Kangdae frequently talk to. Your family seems relieved, worried that you’d reject him, that you’d shame and humiliate them with your refusal.

But it’s when you look at Kangdae’s family where your blood runs cold. They whisper to each other and nod, gauging the reaction of those witnessing the proposal. It feels like they’re in a business merger, and it occurs to you that maybe, to them, it is one.

You feel numb as Kangdae pulls you into a kiss and a tight embrace.

You’re engaged now.

And it makes you want to throw up.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Kangdae whines, trying to pull you closer to him. “Why are you upset? We’re engaged now!”

“Is it because you want to marry me? Or because your family made you?”

He scoffs. “What are you saying?”

It’s been years since the two of you have been together. Years of you being compliant, years of you arguing behind closed doors, of you silently suffering and hoping that things will get better. That, perhaps, one day you could convince yourself that he’ll change his ways. That he'll love you.

Perhaps in front of your family and friends, the two of you act like a happy couple.

You’re the girlfriend he brags about. Arm candy that he can show off because you’re the prettiest girl in town. Someone that his parents approve of, and often question when he’ll pop the question to you. A question, you suspect, puts his inheritance on the line if he hadn’t proposed so soon.

“Kangdae, do you even love me?”

Kangdae laughs. It’s a dark, biting chuckle that makes your skin crawl. “For a pretty girl, you sure say a lot of stupid shit. What kind of fucking question is that?”

Your mouth snaps shut. Until he snaps at you to answer him. “Kangdae, I…”

“Didn’t I propose to you? What more do you want, huh?”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be with a guy like me? I spent so much money on you! I buy you nice things. I take you to beautiful places. I’ve helped you get a job at my parents’ company. I’ve bought you a home. And this is how you repay me?”

“Kangdae, please, just hear me out,” you plead, but the guilt and fear are already eating at you. It’s true that he’s provided you with so much. Are you being foolish? Ungrateful?

“Don’t forget, stupid bitch,” he threatens, his voice low as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his grip. “You will be my wife. You’re nothing without me. I will make your life a living hell. If you think this is the worst, then you’ve seen nothing yet.”

He storms out. 

And as the door slams shut, you slowly sink to the floor, trembling as his words of a very bleak future run through your head. Crying in misery and frustration that you, once again, couldn’t stand up for yourself. That you still feel too scared to just leave him and all you know behind. That his anger and selfishness will continue to wear you down.

That, soon, you’ll be married to a monster.

It’s after a long day at work when you see Kangdae again. However, he isn’t alone.

“What’s going on? What is this?”

You frown at the sight before you. Kangdae is on the couch, and kneeling by his feet and wrapped in a ribbon is a young man.

No, a hybrid. A bunny hybrid.

He’s very muscular, with bruises and scratches covering his golden skin. His hair is dark, matching the long, black ears on his head. And his eyes are big, round, and full of fear as he stares back at you.

“Don’t you like him? Watched him in a fight last night. He’s pretty tough for a bunny, but lost in the final round. His owner was pissed! Nearly knocked him out himself!” Kangdae cackles with laughter, seeming to have found it amusing. "But babe, remember our first date? Remember those hybrid servers you kept staring at?”

“Yes,” you reply with a frown, not really sure what he’s getting at. What do they have to do with the bunny hybrid currently in your living room?

“I convinced the owner to let me borrow his hybrid for the night. As an apology gift,” he states with a proud smile. “Had to fork up a lot of money, but the guy wasn’t too pleased about his prized fighter losing the match anyway.”

“I-I’m not… he’s…” You’re at a loss of words. How could he explain this to you so casually?

“I wanted to make it up to you, babe. Girls dig shit like this, right? Owner kept bragging on and on about how obedient he is and how much stamina he has.” Kangdae can see you’re not into the idea and comes up to you, touching your arm. “I don’t mind. I’d love to watch. Hell, I might even invite the girls over to give him a try.”

“Stop. You’re disgusting.”

How could he think you’d be okay with this? How could anyone?

Hybrids often get treated like pets, but they’re still human. 

“Ungrateful cunt. Can't you see I’m trying to do something nice for you?!” Kangdae roars, and you feel the sting on your face before it registers what happened. He just slapped you.

You’re still in shock and a bit of pain as he grabs his car keys and a jacket. You cradle your cheek as you numbly ask, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a drink. Don’t wait up for me.” He slams the door on his way out. You blink back the tears as a deafening silence follows the roar of his engine, the squeals of his tires as he takes off.

Is this all your fault again? Are you being ungrateful?

No, no. Kangdae is the one taking things too far. And you’re so fed up with it.

You've always been afraid to speak up for yourself. You’ve always been a coward, and wanted to play things safe. You’ve always let him walk all over you. You could never save yourself from such a miserable situation.

You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts, you almost forgot you aren’t alone. The sound of rustling catches your attention, and you see the bunny hybrid trying to unravel himself from the ribbon binding him.

“I can help you,” you offer, and he flinches at your voice. You soften your tone and try again. “Would you let me? I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

He thinks about it for a moment, glancing at you with suspicion and weariness. But he nods his head. Despite how bruised up he is, he probably figures he could overpower you if you really intended to harm him.

The two of you are silent as you untie the long ribbon from his wrists and slip it off his torso. But being this close to him also gives you a good view on all the cuts and sores he received from the fight.

Your heart sinks for him. Not only is it highly illegal, but this one is a prey. They’re not supposed to fight in the first place.

“Wait here,” you tell him once he’s free from the bondage. He rubs his wrist, but continues to sit on the floor. Nothing is really stopping him from leaving on his own, so you hurry to find a first-aid kit.

When you return to the living room, the bunny hybrid is still there. He hasn’t moved an inch from his spot. He eyes the little box in your hands, seeming to recognize it.

“I think this should help with some of your wounds. Is it okay if I help you with this too?”

This time, he nods his head more eagerly.

Again, a silence falls between you two. But it isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve been in the presence of someone else and the silence felt natural. Every now and then, you’d give him a head’s up about the sting of a topical spray or ask him if the bandage you’re wrapping around him is too tight. And he watches you the whole time, nodding and shaking his head when prompted, seeming used to this. You wonder how often he has to treat his own wounds after being thrown in battle.

The silence is cut when his stomach growls loudly. He looks incredibly embarrassed as you offer a small smile. “I have some food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Let me just finish doing this.”

It doesn’t take too much time at all to treat his wounds and wrap fresh bandages on his injuries. You’ve only encountered hybrids a couple times, so you’re not entirely sure what he’d like to eat. You assume fruits and vegetables, but would that be enough?

You start to pull them out and you’re startled when you see the hybrid standing over your shoulder. You see him eyeing a jar of kimchi and take that out as well.

“Does kimchi fried rice sound good to you?” you ask him, and he nods his head more excitedly. His eyes look brighter too, as if you guessed exactly what he’s craving.

Endeared, you begin to get to work. You pull out the leftover rice, sauces, and the ingredients needed to cook it. The hybrid watches as you chop the vegetables and first cook out the onions before adding in the other vegetables and rice. In another pan, you fry a couple eggs to serve over the rice, and sprinkle some toppings of sesame seeds, nori, and sliced green onion. You ransack your fridge for some side dishes you could pair it with, serving some yellow pickled radishes, pickled cucumbers, and seaweed salad in small bowls.

The hybrid watches with big, round eyes and a jittering leg as you set the food before him. You tell him to eat and you barely take a bite of your own dish before he picks up his bowl and devours it like he hasn’t eaten in days. His brows are furrowed and he starts huffing, but he’s quick to grab the side dish closest to him and cleans that as well.

“Is it good?” you ask him tentatively. 

He gives a brief nod, mouth too full to answer, and fills his bowl with seconds.

“I’m glad. I would’ve made more if I had known you’d be this hungry,” you tell him, heart full just seeing him eat well.

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and you don’t want him to be sent back to his owner. You don’t want him to be put in another dangerous and exploiting situation.

“I’m sorry about him. That guy that was here earlier,” you begin. You’ve barely eaten, but you push your share toward him. “He’s not a nice person.”

The bowl he takes from you covers his face, but his ears twitch toward you. They show that he’s listening to you.

“Your owner isn’t a nice person either, huh?”

The hybrid freezes at the mention of his owner. He lowers the bowl a little and he looks terrified. For the first time, he speaks to you. His word is barely a whisper. “Don’t…”

This time, your eyes widen. “What?”

“Please…” he begs, putting the bowl down. Grains of rice stick around his mouth as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t let me go back to him. Please help me.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist | Next

#to be loved #namjoon x reader #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid x reader #hybrid namjoon #hybrid bts

[sugrhigh]

BACKSTAGE - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- your best friend caught the eye of the bass player in a band local to boston, your hometown, so you’re invited to the second to last stop of their US tour. they can definitely put on a show, and all of them are very welcoming when you meet them backstage. then there’s the asshole grumpy drummer with the inflated ego, who can’t seem to stop staring.

warnings- cursing, smoking, drinking, ???

band au (triplets are in their mid 20s)

drummer!matt x fem!reader (this song ^^ inspired me and it’s good af so i’m including it)

a/n: this has been brewing for a while and i kinda forking love this concept, i hope i brought it to life well! hope u enjoy and as always my inbox is open for whateva #kisses ****part 2 to come

@fawnchives @55sturn @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @sturnlova @cupidsword @junnniiieee07 @mattnchrisworld @cherrypostsposts

“are you sure you want to do this?” you ask her as you two linger by the bar at the back of the venue.

people are clearing out, all happily chattering after an incredible concert. you have to admit that it was a great performance, and the sold out crowd helped.

they’re a pretty talented band. and the bass player really wants your best friend.

all it took to get him interested was a single comment on one of his recent posts. adelaide is undeniably gorgeous, and she’s also built a decent following through her recent modeling jobs.

she stands out in any comment section and in crowds like these, so it makes sense that he hit her up. that’s why you’re here anyways.

mister bass player had invited you guys to the first of two sold out shows in this place. it’s the last stop on the band’s US leg, in their hometown, which happens to be where you and adelaide live.

“yes dude, for the hundredth time, im sure. and he’s waiting on us, so stop stalling. i know you have more balls than that.” adelaide gives you a pointed look.

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “i promise you i don’t care enough about what these guys think to be scared.”

“now that sounds more like you.” she teases as she pulls her phone out of her back pocket.

the light from the screen illuminates her face, and you watch as she taps something out quickly.

“chris said someone is gonna come get us.”

“can’t wait.” you smile sarcastically as you respond.

addy doesn’t even get the chance to yell at you about your attitude before a big buff guy dressed in all black approaches the two of you, dark hair slicked against his skull. SECURITY is printed across his jacket in bold yellow letters.

“you ladies enjoy the show?” his voice is deep, which matches his huge stature perfectly.

“oh, it was amazing! i’m assuming you’re jason?” adelaide beams at him, pushing her dark curls out of her face.

he nods once. “that’s me. you guys ready to head backstage?”

“yup, just lead the way.”

the two of you follow jason back down toward the front of the stage, around the protective barricade to a door that almost blends right in with the venue’s dark walls.

he knocks on it three times. another tall man opens it for him and ushers the two of you inside before people start to pay too much attention.

“dressing rooms this way.” the new guy leads you through the backstage area, down a narrow hallway until he stops in front of one of the doors. there’s a little placard with their band name on it, which is cute.

this time nobody thinks to knock, because it’s already pretty loud. once the door swings open the sound is even more overwhelming.

you count seven people, all sitting around on the couches and vanity seats in the dim lighting. three of them are nearly identical, which surprises you. you thought there were only two brothers in the band.

several bottles of champagne crowd the coffee table already, and they’ve only been off the stage for ten minutes.

all of them are watching the two of you now, and it makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

“look who it is.” one of the twins (or apparently triplets) that’s sitting on the couch sets his glass down and gets up to greet you.

his brown hair is long, longer than the others, hidden slightly by a black boston hat. he’s dressed in a celtics jersey and baggy jeans, clearly happy to be representing his city tonight.

“good to see you, chris.” adelaide smiles into his chest as he pulls her into a tight embrace that lasts for a few seconds too long.

“i promise it’s better to see you.” he smirks as he finally pulls away, not even trying to hide his gaze as he admires the way her outfit hugs her body.

then he turns to you, and you suddenly feel like a spotlight is shining directly in your face.

“it’s nice to meet you too, y/n. addy tells me you’re even cooler than she is.” chris says, wrapping his arm around your friends shoulder lazily.

“can’t argue with that.” you shrug with a grin, impressed that he remembered your name without having to ask.

he looks around and clears his throat, and the others stop chatting. “everyone, this is adelaide and y/n. introduce yourselves.”

one of the clones that was sitting beside chris speaks up now. “shouldn’t they know who we are?”

he looks directly at you with an uninterested gaze that’s somehow still so intense you almost lose your breath. he’s in all black, fluffy hair styled a bit shorter than chris’s.

his harley davidson muscle tee is cut off right above his black pants, revealing just the smallest sliver of his stomach as he leans back against the cushions casually. so many tattoos, so many rings.

it’s annoying that you notice this, even despite how pissed off you are at his stupid question.

“i hate to burst your bubble, but i wouldn’t be able to guess your name even if someone put a gun to my head.” you bite back without thinking, and laughter erupts around you.

“that’s exactly what you deserve for a dickhead comment like that, matt.” another currently-unnamed guy says.

he’s on the other sofa with the last of the carbon-copy brothers, arm around the waist of the beautiful girl that’s perched on his lap. the couple smile at you and adelaide.

“feel free to ignore him. i’m nathan, lead guitar.” he introduces himself.

“i’m his girlfriend jen.” the dark-haired woman chimes in, offering you a friendly wave.

“im nick,” the triplet sitting next to them finally reveals his name, “i’m not in the band, i’m just their tour photographer. my brothers got the musical talent.”

“kids a genius with a camera though.” chris adds, still sidled up against adelaide.

“names sam. i’m the singer.” a blonde boy with hair cropped close to his skull says with a nod.

he’s sitting on one of the vanity chairs that’ve been set up in a half circle, tipping the rest of his champagne back after he speaks.

“and i’m just his older sister gabby.” the girl beside him sticks her hand out, and you take a step forward to shake it.

“dont say just. and i love your necklace.” you compliment the barbed wire chain around her throat, and she waves her free hand at you, flushing slightly.

“you’re sweet.”

“it’s nice to meet you all. the show was fantastic, we had a blast.” adelaide addresses everyone with that award-winning grin you know and love.

chris leads her over to the couch and they sit down, pressed against each other like they’re attached at the hip. you have to admit it’s a little cute. you take the open chair next to gabby, opting to avoid sitting next to matt just to be near your friend.

“are you both from boston too?” sam asks, reaching to refill his drink.

jen gets up from nate’s lap to grab two more glasses from one of the cabinets, which is a kind gesture that you weren’t really expecting.

“yeah. we met in college and ended up staying in the city together.” you answer as he moves to pour your champagne next.

“that makes you what, 22? i am about to serve you alcohol.”

you can’t help but laugh, so adelaide answers instead. “we’re 25, but i’ll take that as a compliment.”

he puts his hands up in apology as you grab your glass. “so not recent graduates then, my bad.”

you can still feel matt staring at you, and when you meet his gaze over the rim of your drink he doesn’t shy away. your own eyes narrow slightly, because you dont understand why he won’t fucking quit it.

“what do you do for work?” nathan questions, and you finally break out of your trance to look over.

“i was in publishing for a bit, but i mainly model now.” addy responds first.

chris’s hand goes to grip her thigh endearingly as she sips her champagne. “can’t you tell?”

“stop it.” she nudges him slightly, though you can see a faint blush appear beneath her bronzed skin.

nate rolls his eyes before looking your way. “and you?”

“i’m a media manager for a few different brands.”

“really? like who?”

it’s matt speaking, you know even before you turn your head to meet his cold eyes once more. he’s challenging you, inked arms crossed over his chest defensively as he waits for an answer.

“well for one, those pants you’re wearing? i work with that company.” you reply bluntly.

you’d recognize those cargos anywhere, the faded star patches are a dead giveaway. matt’s face drops in surprise, and nick snorts, giving you a nod of approval that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i can’t believe you work for vamped. we all get like, half of our wardrobe from there.” he admits.

“raiding her closet is a real treat, trust me.” adelaide makes it sound like a joke, but she actually does love to come over and steal all your favorite pieces.

it would be annoying if you didn’t love her so much.

jen smiles, cuddled back up on her boyfriend’s knee as she looks between the two of you. “i like you girls already.”

“yeah, and i respect anyone who can humble matt that quickly.” sam nods along in agreement, and you recognize that he’s talking about you in particular.

“oh, so i take it he’s like this all the time then?” your question is directed at sam, but you’re looking at the subject himself as you ask it.

“pretty much.” chris nudges matt with a silly grin, and he scowls in return, though he’s still watching you.

you can’t decipher what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, and you don’t like it one bit. to be fair, you don’t know him at all yet, but you know the type.

you’ve met enough high profile people through vamped to understand that this kid thinks he’s some kind of god, probably because his friends tell him so.

but you’re not his friend, and you don’t owe him any politeness if he can’t bother to reciprocate it. you keep your eyes on him as sam redirects the conversation away from the two of you, another challenge of your own, and he finally looks away a moment later.

you take it as a win.

a few rounds of drinks later you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, blissfully tipsy as you continue to swap stories about anything and everything with the rest of the group.

chris and adelaide are in their own little world, whispering shit back and forth to each other like school girls.

matt hasn’t said a single word to you since you name-dropped your highest paying client just to embarrass him. he watches the rest of you interact, though that burning gaze of his always seems to meet yours anyways.

its driving you crazy, and you’re itching for a quick pause from the socialization, as nice as (almost) everyone has been.

“i’m gonna go for a smoke.” you address the group, mainly adelaide, and you’re met with a couple nods.

“same.” matt replies gruffly, and your heart falters.

of fucking course.

he pushes himself to a standing position before you can protest, or say anything really. his shirt is even more cropped now that he’s stretched to his full height, and you’re staring straight at his exposed happy trail and v-line. you’re pretty sure you see the top of a small tattoo by his hip.

your mouth goes dry, and you busy yourself grabbing your little purse from the floor.

“hurry back, i wanna hear more about this PR box fiasco.” gabby points a finger at you as you get up next, and you smile even though you know it’s a weak attempt.

“i’ll be quick.” you promise her.

adelaide gives you a little wave goodbye, which doesn’t quell your nerves as you turn to follow matt, who doesn’t wait for you to catch up.

he just throws the dressing room door open carelessly, letting it swing back so you have to stop it with your hand before it hits you. you glare at the back of his head, though you follow him in silence because you don’t know the way outside.

another security guard stands in the hall, and matt greets him with a quick nod as he heads outside, once again neglecting to hold it for you.

you mutter a quick hello to the man before stepping onto the little back patio. it’s the end of summer, edging toward fall now, so there’s just a slight chill in the air.

he’s already leaned up against the brick wall, situated on one of the steps down to the gated parking lot. for the first time tonight, he’s actually not looking at you, and it’s somewhat of a relief.

you dig around in your bag to retrieve your crinkled carton of cigarettes, flipping the lid open to pull one out and stick it between your lips. you’re about to put them away when matt clears his throat.

“can i bum one?” he asks softly.

it’s the least aggressive he’s been all night, and it throws you so off guard you can’t find anything to say back so him. so you just nod slowly, grabbing another cigarette for him and passing it over.

“thanks.”

“you got a light? couldn’t bring mine in.” you mutter, though your words slur because of the cig that’s between your teeth.

matt nods, ruffling his hair with one hand as the other slips into his back pocket. he pulls out a red disposable lighter and ignites it in one swift motion.

he holds it up to your mouth, burning the end of the thin roll of tobacco. he’s staring at your lips, thinking about how soft they look wrapped around that filter paper.

matt doesn’t want to be wondering what it would be like to feel them against his own, because you embarrassed him. he hates being embarrassed, especially by someone who walked right into his dressing room like she owned it.

you’re unlike any girl he’s ever met, and he’s fucking entranced.

you inhale, glancing to meet his blue eyes as the smoke fill your lungs, completely unaware of his thoughts. it’s familiar, and it calms you down a little bit.

you pull it from your mouth to exhale, watching as he lights his own before slipping the plastic device back into his pocket. he slumps back up against the wall, kicking one leg up to steady himself.

it’s silent again for a moment while you both enjoy the brief hits of nicotine, letting the clouds swirl up into the night. you both go to ash at the same time, and he breaks the tension first.

“so, what did you think of the show, sweetheart? your friend spoke for you, but i’m sure you have your own opinion.” he says, one side of his mouth tilted up.

you weigh up his statement, rewinding to an hour ago. you guys were in the upper wing, right by the stage in the front row. the view was great, and the energy was definitely there.

you remember matt, sweaty and focused as he banged on those fucking drums like his life depended on it. your eyes were drawn to him for a lot of the performance, to the intensity he brought to the stage.

that was before you knew about his superiority complex, though you should have been expecting it. he is, after all, a rising rock star.

“it was good.” you reply bluntly, shrugging as you bring your cigarette back to your lips.

he fully smiles now, though it’s not a warm one. then he follows your lead and takes another drag as well, his tattoos shifting as his muscles flex and relax due to the movement.

“don’t fucking humor me.” matt finally says seriously, and you narrow your eyes.

“i wasn’t, but it doesn’t matter either way. you think you’re the shit regardless.” you snap back.

matt softens a bit at your tone, but he’s also backed into a corner. you confuse him, because you’re impossible to read. that’s never happened to him before, and it’s annoyingly enticing.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“i know your type.” you argue sourly, sucking in another mouthful of smoke.

he turns his full attention to you now, shifting so he can look you right in the eyes. you wish it didn’t intimidate you so much, but the way he’s been leering at you all night makes you sweat.

“and what type would that be, hm?” matt goads.

you nudge at the concrete with the toe of your sneaker, pausing briefly to compose your answer.

“you’re arrogant, which either comes from the fame or the praise, or most likely both. in fact, you’re so cocky that you probably can’t be around anyone without patronizing them. i bet they all tell you how talented and badass you are, but you wanna know what i think?” you ask him, taking a hit of your cigarette for dramatic effect.

and it works. matt is hanging onto every word, waiting for you to deliver the final punch as you take a step closer, blowing the vapor toward him.

“i think that the whole time, they’re just waiting for you to shut the fuck up.”

for a second the world is still, and neither of you move an inch. he’s just studying you, eyes skipping across your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“you want to know what i think?” he questions you quietly, and you can’t help but watch his lips as they move.

so pretty and pink, and you know he would taste like tobacco and sweat. you want to give in, but you won’t. one thing about you is that you’re stubborn, and you refuse to make the first move for this asshole.

“i think you like it.” matt finishes, so close to your lips now that he’s practically whispering his words against them.

just as you think he’s about to kiss you, to give you the power you crave, he tosses his cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out before stepping around you.

the only reminder that the moment was real is the door slamming shut behind him.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #drummer!matt #fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #band au #matthew sturniolo x reader #Spotify

[honestsycrets]

querido ii: ¿estás bien? | outlaw!miguel o'hara

Chapter List

❛ pairing | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ type | tripleshot(?); explicit

❛ summary | while miguel gathers gabriella, you have an unexpected visit from aaron. miguel doesn't take his visit well.

❛ tags | mention of murder and minor character death, hidden pregnancy, western au, spanish not translated, outlaw!miguel, baby-mama!reader, slight cursing, angst, threats, implied physical assault, implied molestation, miguel beating a bitch up, mention of alcohol and smoking, f!reader.

❛ sy's notes | a bit long but-- enjoy.

The path Gabriella took was traceable. He wove through the pass of battered grass with efficiency, passing by groups of grazing cattle until he came upon a small wooden barn. It was nestled just in the mouth of the forest. It was clumsily built and even more sloppily painted. Miguel had no doubt that it had to be Peter’s handiwork. It had that look about it, half done but done in love.

“Gabriella?” her name was clumsy on his tongue. Before today, he’d gotten no word of his daughter in smuggled letters from Peter. Didn’t even know you were pregnant. It made sense, after the accident, that he’d step up. That was the kinda man Peter was.

“Go away,” she sniffled between the fallen tears and snot, her sobbing loud and relentless. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Let me take you home, kid.”

“No.” she bit out. “I don’t know you.”

“You know your mama.”

“I don’ think I do,” she said.

“Yeah, well, that makes two’a us.” Crestfallen, Miguel set his back against the wood panneling, folding his broad arms one over the other. His head connected with the aged old wood, staring into the distance at your little house with its peeling paint and tall flowering trees. He takes a swig of his flask of booze, needing something to cut with the sudden reality that he was an instant father. A smoke would do, too.

He should have known his method of pulling out and praying would slip up one day. Apparently, that came sooner than he thought. If he searched his memories way back when, he might have remembered a time or two that he failed to pull out, your beautiful body riding him for all he was worth. All beat up, he was a sad sex partner, clinging underneath layers of your frilly dress to fuck up into you. Coño, that had to be it. A laugh slipped off his lips, empty of his typical sass and mirth.

“Came back to see my girl and end up a father, fancy that.”

“Your girl?” Gabriella said, in between her raw tears. “What’d you mean your girl?”

“Tu mamá. She was my girl. Met her as a cattle hand for her papá. Back when I used to do things right,” Miguel found himself explaining, turning his head over to the tiny window. He couldn’t help but remember the first time you caught his eye-- the day you dropped that ruby-red rebozo into a muddy puddle on the way back from church. Whirling off his newly broken horse, Miguel near flung himself off her saddle to pick it up. Gabriella shifted to look out the empty window at him. “Shoulda seen her then. She had this glimmer, used to bring me out burros no matter how hot it was.”

He remembers the many days sitting on the wooden gate, tearing tasteless dried meat until you came around. You slipped out of your mother’s schoolhouse without fail to bring him something to eat. He hated sopita days the most. You loved those days the most. Beggars couldn't be choosers. He'd eat it, smack on a smile. Listened with an annoyed grin to the other cattle hands when they teased him about having to drop his entire salary back on the man to get your hand in marriage. Like the asshole would give you to a sunburnt, down-in-the-dirt cowboy like him. If he'd known that, he would've just eloped before things got... messy.

“Mama likes sopita,” Gabriella said. At least she knew her mother. “I like frijoles and tortillas.”

Sencillo. She was a simple child. Miguel exhaled a plume of smoke, spotting a dark brown horse out in the distance. He wasn't sure, but it could be Aaron coming to bother you again. He swore that the man had come in earlier when Miguel was feeding Widow in the barn.

“Abuelo y mi tia were shot.” She stated. What'd you do?! She’s not moving! Miguel shook the memory free. Every time he remembered, he hoped he could forget. He brings his cigarette back to his lips as the little girl goes on. “That’s what mamá said. Then, the paper says you killed the sheriff. Real outlaw like!"

“That’s what they say,” he mumbled, finding his mind running.

The days of running from his thoughts were coming to a quick end. He’s traveled far and wide, never married-- though he had certain needs met. It never fit. No one’s body held the quiet calm of yours under his, your fingers dancing the expanse of his muscled back, your soft lips on his chapped ones. He just wanted to make it right, thinking there was nothing more to tie you down. Looking at the curious twinkle in his daughter’s big brown doe eyes, that was obviously wrong.

“Yeah, but did you do it?”

“Don’t think your mamá would appreciate me talking out of turn.” Miguel unfolded his arms, knowing that he already said too much. He doesn’t know how much of the event you’ve told her. It’s easy to want to tell her things, to be more honest, and to invite open conversation like a papá should. He let Peter handle it all for years.

“What about me?” she asked, curious. “Did’ja come back for me?”

“You?” Miguel peeped over. “I didn’t even know you were alive, kid. Besides that, you won’t even talk to me man to man.”

“Man to girl,” she pushed open the door and popped out with her hands square on her hips. She’s a little spitfire, standing there proudly, fractured in some beautiful way, through moments of grief. It still wears in her girlish eyes, but it's smoothed over some by Miguel’s presence. He suddenly has a terrible fear of letting her down. He caught the tail of a frown before it dissipated. She presented him with her hand.

“My papá’s gone, so you’ll just have to do.”

Great, he’s a second-rate father. He knows he’s no Peter, who could run off with the smallest joy a child had. He could make it seem like the most amazing thing he’s ever heard. Miguel has a cold demeanor, his aptitude in things outside gunfights is questionable, and he has a fat ass bounty on his head-- no doubt spearheaded by Aaron. The deaths were so old. The sheriff was another issue. Why else would he keep chasing him?

“I’ll try.”

He could do this. Whatever having a child entailed, he wanted to do it. To one day bring that smile to Gabriella’s lips. A smile warmed his hardened face as he took hers. It’s the only thing that a newfound father could wish for his daughter-- to be the source of her happiness.

By the time they trek back home, there is no sight of Aaron. Widow is tucked kindly in your barn, out of the sweltering sun that beat down her little face to keep her safe. They take the backdoor in.

“Mamá?” Gabriella stepped in first. Miguel followed after, his hand on his gun out of habit. Too many sleepless nights in the middle of nowhere, nights sleeping in caves and rocky ground. “Mamá, are you there?”

Your clothes are thrown over a wooden chair, forgotten. Your cleaning water is used and indicates that you cleaned up in their absence. Miguel stepped past a broken dish in the kitchen that Gabriella thought fell off on its own accord. He set the sherds on top of one another and continued on in his inspection of the kitchen.

“Oh, mama made pie!” Gabriella picked up the forgotten peach pie from the window and set it on the lace tablecloth that covered the table. Miguel promptly shut the window behind her. He recognized Peter’s old pistol on the table, still holstered up in your thigh wrapping. Night had fallen on the home. Had they been gone so long?

Something’s off-- Miguel decided.

“I’m upstairs,” you called from up the steps. Your voice sounded strained, suppressing something Miguel didn’t quite understand.

“Eat n’ bed,” he told Gabi.

"Can I eat the pie?"

"Eat what'cha want." He minded how she took the pie up to her room with a shake of his head. He wasn’t getting him any of that any time soon. He checked her room first, shooing her off with the awkwardest hug. Not on his part, but hers. She squeezed his waist the tightest she could before she disappeared inside.

On his last visit here, he hadn't gone into depth exploring the home. It was beautiful. Warmed by your touch with well-framed family portraits and knick-knacks he recognizes from a decade ago. It’s terribly domestic, but that’s the beauty of a lifestyle he is alien to. Miguel hovered before a wedding photo. Unlike the typical wedding photos he saw town to town, you were clearly pregnant behind that tight white dress. Peter was clearly grinning like the idiot he was. He draws his knuckles over the heavy wooden door with a silent knock. He doesn’t want to fall into a trap with his daughter next door.

“Adelante,” you whispered, inviting him in. He pushes the door apart.

There’s no sign of Aaron. You sat at a small vanity, combing your hair out with a hand-me-down brush. Your hair fell over a heavy welt on your cheek that wasn’t there hours ago. His eye trained on the bruise. For a few long moments, he was silent. He eventually clicks the door shut and takes several steps forward, peeling your tiny palm that obscures the heavy bruising on your cheekbone.

“Did you find her?”

“What happened?” he asked, plain and dry. No room for debate, no way to deflect. You turned your head to one side, stroking your nightgown for a semblance of comfort. He removed your hand and set it on your lap, his large hand tilting your face in gentle concern. You abandoned your brush on the vanity. The spot was hot and angry, burning with a blotchy color that painted your face in a watercolor of bruises. “Was it Aaron?”

“You saw him?” He met your eyes and kept his gaze steady and strong. That was his answer. You sighed. “It’s not important.”

“Did he put his hands on you? Did he-- touch you?”

Miguel knew how Aaron looked at you in the past. Even back then, married to your sister, his eyes always wandered to any pretty thing. It wasn’t enough that the rumors that spread were full of talk of Miguel and you, ever the hot topic at every dance he took you to. Not because it was unique but because your father had clear objections to the match. Aaron took his presence as a threat. Right now, it was.

“Did you find Gabi?”

“She’s safe in her room,” he cropped his words. “I want to talk about you.”

“Y yo no,” you looked away. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Mi amor,” Miguel brought his hand down, supporting your soft jaw in his hand. Miguel doesn’t beg, but he will this time. It was all he could do to make you tell the truth. To soothe the sick feeling in his gut, to make sure that you were well taken care of. In a surge of concern, Miguel tried to push the issue further. “Don’t shut me out.”

“You’ll get all worked up and that ain’t gonna do nothin’ but raise that bounty on your head.”

"So." It doesn't matter that you had a point. There was a warning hanging in his eyes-- he wouldn’t let it go. Not without an explanation first. It was impossible. "I already got a chunk of change on my head. What's one more gonna do?"

“He’s been pressing me to search the ranch for you every so often,” you admitted, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I left the front door open and he came on in while I was changing. I was about sick of it, querido, so I told him to go away. I guess… he didn’t like that much. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Miguel cut you off. That was closer to a version of the truth than he knew you wanted to admit. He knew you enough to know it wasn’t the full story. Miguel slipped onto his knees, his worn slacks scratching the floor beneath him. He held your hands in his, reminding himself not to lash out, throw something, or hit something for not being there. There was no outlet for his rage right then. He'd take it out on something later.

“He didn’t violate me if that’s what you’re thinkin’.” Your lip pursed, struggled to make words that don’t hurt so much. Your tongue was fat in your mouth as you explained. “He just… grabbed on me a bit.”

Grabbed on you a bit? Miguel searched your fingers with an intent expression for an answer that made sense. You were being cryptic. He doesn’t particularly like weighing the options of what it could mean. He could have grabbed the door and forced his way in. He could have grabbed you and tried to force himself on you. The thought burned low in his stomach, simmering the need for revenge.

“What’d he grab?” he drew your name out in a soft, puff of a thing. Your fingers left his, smoothing over your nightgown again in an effort to soothe yourself. Your breath quickened, a clear signal that he was hitting his limit with you.

“I don’t--” you struggled. “I don’t want to talk about none of that. You just came back today, Gabi learned the truth, Peter-- I can’t do it. Can’t you let it go?”

He knew that the tears pricking your eyes weren’t over something like Peter’s death or the bite of dust in your eyes. Shame and embarrassment dangle before him, fueling his enmity with a man that he’d not run up against in many years. If anything were going to force him into action, it would be this.

“If that’s what you want, amor.”

He couldn’t let it go. But if it helped you relax, he’d just let you think he could. Miguel sprung up on two feet and kicked off his dark brown boots under your wooden vanity. He slipped off his suit jacket and vest before offering you his hand.

“I should… check on Gabi. She might be hungry.”

“She took up with that pie you made her. Menudo’s on the stove.”

“Pero… I should make sure she’s okay.”

“Amor, are you okay?” he asked, his voice terribly mild, but bore a seriousness that struck a cord in you. His words hung like the blade of a scythe, cutting through the strength you had to have day to day since Peter passed. First death. Now as Miguel suspected, a molestation?

No, you choked out, your face pale of its usual warmth. You didn’t fight as he brought you into bed, his hand underneath your neck to draw you close. He knew his smoky scent would reek the sheets, yet you did not seem to care, burrowing in the space between his neck. Your hand slipped underneath his slightly unbuttoned shirt, curling in his chest hair. He caressed your back in soft circles.

“Miggy?”

“¿Sí, mi hermosa?”

“Make it better.”

Take care of it, he thought bitterly. That’s what you meant. Miguel slid his other large hand over the back of your neck, working you through the tears. The flood of your tears against his neck reminded him of how pathetic of a job he’d been doing, caring for his new little family, for you-- the woman he came to take away.

For this moment, he could only cradle your cheek and distract you with a salty kiss. He clumsily nudged his nose against yours to force you to pay attention to him. He probably tastes of booze, smoke, and a little bit of dried meat, but if he does, you don’t seem to mind it. Your lips shuddered, lips opening slightly to allow him to kiss you more fully. Your kiss held its own familiarity, a signal that he was home despite the years that passed.

“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you murmured against his lips. “I ain’t that strong.”

“You’re plenty strong. Got through a whole pregnancy without your man around, raised her up good.”

“I knew I was with child before you left,” you peered up. Emotions flickered there: a rush of anger, uncertainty, disappointment, most of all, sadness pooled in his eyes. “I just… I ain’t know how to tell you, what’d it change with papa not liking you the least bit after Lupe’s shooting.”

“I would’a wifed you up quick.”

Now-- what would he do? Miguel wasn’t stupid. It wouldn’t be just Aaron who would come around the longer he spent in this town. Bounty hunters of all kinds would be breathing down his neck. There was no future for him here. The only alternative was to take his family out of this tiny town, carve out a new life elsewhere. Miguel brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

“I still would.”

Your cheeks are warm as they get, “Who’d marry an outlaw and a widow?”

“Someone out west that ain’t know about us.”

“There such a place?” you asked.

“'Course there is,” he assured you. “Think ‘bout it.”

You looked at him for a long time, considering if Miguel was telling you the truth, but he’s never lied before. Not where it counts. Miguel’s hand wandered, pulling your thigh over his, content with your consideration.

“Think that’d make me a bad mom, whisking my kid off to be with an outlaw, ain’t it?”

Miguel arched his brow at you, his eyes glossy and warm, teasing. In any other case, he might have agreed. But it was his child you cared for. He wasn’t about to abandon you— no way to make money, no way to take care of Gabriella but to remarry or sell off everything and try a life in the city. You liked rocking on a rocking chair at the end of the night, running through the wildflowers, and the taste of honey in the warmer months. You were no city girl.

“Ain’t like they don’t know whose kid it is.” Miguel laughed, a tuft of pride spilling into his words. “She look like she's mine.”

“Peter’d say that too.” The thought made you smile in a way you knew it shouldn’t. As good as a man Peter was, he brought up that fact the day you gave birth, when he abandoned the fields to be by your side. How we gonna hide this? He’d laugh. She ain’t look Anglo. She look just like Miguel. He always did say he hoped that it wasn’t too obvious. It was. Peter was a one-of-a-kind man. The memory brought a twinge of a smile to your face, looking over your marital bedroom. Speaking of others--

“Didn’t you meet other girls out there?”

Miguel forgets the kind of woman you were. A very jealous, terribly protective woman. He knew the question would come up eventually. You were a woman who loved to be the center of his world. Every man and woman wanted to be the only one in their lover’s eyes. He traveled the grassy roads for years and saw all there was to see. All types of women. Native women who lived on the land and slept in longhouses. Anglo women seemed to love to run their fingers down his swarthy skin but never considered bringing him home-- even if he wasn’t interested. Black women always fed him, even if they distrusted him a little. And, Hispanic women whose fathers did not like him prowling around their land. He couldn't blame them. He wouldn't want someone like him for Gabi, either.

“I met my share.”

“And you still came back?”

“Yeah? I came back for you. What, you want me out?” Despite your brilliant, soft smile, your mind ran like you’d taken the first ticket on the railroad out of town. He knew what you were thinking. You were wondering how many women he’d been with, what they were like, what--

"You're so sassy," you teased. He slid on top of you, his fat belt buckle catching on your nightgown. His lips peppered gentle but scratchy kisses down the expanse of your neck. The soft bruising there reminded him of Aaron’s mistakes. He'd take care of that next.

“Miggy,” you giggled, tugging on his thick dark brown hair. “Stop it.”

“Todavía te amo,” he lifted off your neck enough to utter the words. Your cheeks flooded with an unfamiliar warmth. You'd not had someone to make your heart soar in a really long time. Your hand curled up his head, dipped along the curves of his face to his sharp jawline, and tugged him to look at you. He complied, a tilt in his head.

“I wanna see you naked. You’ve gotten so big,” you said. “Take off your clothes.”

Well-- he had to know that one was coming. Miguel suppressed a small snicker from leaving his chest as he pushed off the bed and brought his fingers against the buttons you hadn’t undone. You scooted up on the bed, dragged your gown over your knees, and watched him undress. He drew the shirt off his massive arms and threw it in on your chair. His skin was memorable, still as dark and swarthy as you remember, but cut in more defined musculature. You brought your nail to your lip, suckling on the nail as he threw you a half-lidded look.

“Well?” he hooked his thumbs onto his belt buckle, waving a little closer. “You're not saying anything.”

“You’re so big, querido.”

“Believe you already said that,” Miguel teased.

He knew he looked good. It was how he attracted so many different women. You twiddled your fingers to urge him closer. Something about you loosening his belt filled his belly with a distant excitement. He watched you unlatch the fat buckle and draw his belt free of the loops with a whirl of leather. He held his thick leather belt in one hand as your trembling hands came up to unbutton him. The firm fabric slid down over his hips, revealing nothing beneath but his hirsute legs and a flaccid cock that settled on a tuft of nearly black pubic hair. If he wasn't mistaken, you moistened your lips.

Selfishly, he wonders how many men you’ve been with since he ran off. He wouldn't have blamed you if you wanted to be with a hundred. He left you pregnant, without a family, and likely terrified.

“How long’s it been?” Miguel stepped out of what was left, standing there as naked as the first day he came into this world, exposed without his rifle or his handgun. Your cheeks flared with warmth, gliding a hand up his hip. “Since you've been with a man.”

“Eight years.”

He knew that Peter had no interest in you, and you had no interest in Peter. He was simply a good man doing what he thought was right. If not for Peter-- he’s not sure what would have become of you. Yet, illogically, he thought you could stomach to be with another man.

“You never been with another man?”

“I married Peter. I’d never do him like that,” you shook your head, inching your hand over his cock. After eight years, you deserved a good fucking. He can’t bring himself to force you into it, not after what you’ve been through tonight. He allows you to lead, milking his cock with your small hand. Your other crawls up to his scarred stomach, tracing the line of hair to his navel. There were countless scars on his body, never afraid to leap head first into a battle.

“I bet you had needs,” Miguel murmured. "You use your hand?"

“‘Course I did, Miggy. I’m a woman, ain’t I?” You looked up at him, your bruised face beautiful as it was. Despite what other men liked to say, that women ain’t need to do nothing but lay there and take them, Miguel knows better. His mind is full of distant memories of sex with one another. Sneaking out in the deep of night to fuck in the fields, snatching you midway through your chores to kiss and finger you in the barn, or exchanging the smallest of glances around town. "Now don't talk so nasty, Gabriella is right next door."

“Downstairs. Lemme take care of you,” Miguel found took your hand, lifting it away from his cock and forcing you to stand. You complied, following his hand that slipped between your legs, stroking up your thighs to your neglected core. He imagines that on nights like this, quiet and alone when Peter was on a cattle drive, you’d come into your bed just like this. Slip over your bed, stroke your long fingers over your puffy lips, maybe dip one inside, and think of him.

“What if she comes in?”

“She won’t.”

“But I don’t know how to--”

“Mujer. You don’t need to think of anything short of what I’m about to do to you.” Miguel lifted your nightgown up and off your body. Your hands snapped to your midsection, covering whatever it was that was so offensive.

"Stop that." Miguel tilted his head to the side, flicking your hands away from appreciating the sight of your belly, littered with softly discolored stretch marks.

“But I ain’t pretty no more,” you told him. “I got--”

“You got marks from bearing me a baby. I know. Now, hush up,” Miguel teased gently, the pads of his fingers swooping over the marks. They had gone silvery with age. Perhaps, he thinks, you thought you'd never be with a man. Now, you seem so suddenly self-conscious of the marks that litter your skin. He curved his hands around to squeeze your plush hips, flushing his body against yours. You felt his cock rub up against your belly, soft to the touch. Miguel's cock stiffened against your navel, a feeling that brought a crack of arousal through your core. You rubbed your thighs together for the friction. As relief pooled in your belly, Miguel seized your jaw to kiss you, his hands slapping your ass to force you to move. You shifted forward, crying out into his muscular chest. “I’m after a woman, not a girl. Get on all fours. It’s my turn to see you.”

You complied by sliding onto the bed, memories of what Miguel liked flooding your mind: chest against the sheets and ass up. Despite the very real concerns you had about his attraction, Miguel seemed no worse for wear when you looked over your shoulder. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he grabbed your ass, massaged your cheeks between his palms, and separated your lips. He licked a long band up between your tender lips, enough to wrench free a soft gasp. He suckled on them with a wet pop, the puff of his lips musing hot air onto your cunt.

“That’s cute,” Miguel murmured, letting his palm come on your ass for a teasing slap. You groaned, the hot redness burned in a sweet and unfamiliar way. His lips began to moisten with your lubricant spilling over them, tasting of a woman he hadn’t had in too long. His tongue prodded at the entrance to your gentle hole, pushing in one of his thick digits. Your walls protested the intrusion, clamping over the foreign finger.

“Ah Miguel,” you curled your toes, his finger stretching you in preparation for his fat cock. “I ain’t sure I can take you.”

“Sure you can.” Miguel hummed, inserting another alongside the first. You were tight, that was for sure. He was sure that you hadn’t been with another man in years, just as you said. It made his cock leak to think of it-- your virginity was his, your child was his, and… now you’d be his again. He spat on your hole, his wet saliva squelching with your lubricant around his broad fingers as he entered your body. Your hips rutted back onto him, instantly making Miguel release a husky laugh. "Your pussy knows you can. Look'it eating me up."

"Por dios Miguel, don't talk like that." You stiffened around his fingers. His mouth had gotten nastier in his time away. He knows you like the way he worships you, finger flicking lightly over your walls, making sure to stretch you wide. Another slipped alongside the first, twisting his wrist for a deeper thrust, working you nice and loose, enjoying the gasps of decadent pleasure. Miguel whispered beautiful words of praise, remarking on how easily you took him, how well you'd be in only a few minutes. Your hands ruffled the sheets, cantering your hips back onto him. You needed his words, so tired after years of sexual frustration.

"That's it. Tell me you missed it," he fucked you a few more times before his rhythm would die off, leaving you empty of him. His hand shifted to your breasts, molding them between his big palms, waiting for an answer that sounded right.

"I missed you, Miggy."

Miguel momentarily paused. Then, he stepped up, the hair on his legs brushing your thighs as he mounted you. The blunt head of his cock nudged along your lips.

“I’ma fuck you now,” Miguel murmured into your ear, letting his chest rest on your own. He pushed into you. Your walls stretched with his long stroke, Miguel's face tightening up. He was seated against your cervix, pushed up as far as you would let him go. For all your whining about his language, the obscene cry that left your lips was loud. Loud enough that Miguel slapped his hand over your mouth. He hooked his thumb in your mouth, forcing you to suck him as he sped up his deep thrusts, pushing you closer to your limit.

“Just gorgeous, mi hermosa.” Miguel found himself grinding forth. The repetitive squeaking of the bed made what he was about to say real stupid like. “But you gotta be quiet. Gabi don’t need to know what we’re doin’.”

Your tongue coasted around his thumb, suckling him nice and wet. Your walls clamped back over him, unused to the feeling of having a man inside. Miguel found himself rutting against your cunt, his tightening balls slapping your ass as he moved. Again and again, Miguel set a soothing, quick rhythm, filling the emptiness from years ago.

He'd been with many women over the years. None felt so easy, so like home. He curses himself for not doing it sooner. Your fingers dipped between your bodies, filling the emptiness, and causing your pleasure to blossom under your fingers. Pleasure explodes in your core, battered by his frantic thrusts, and your mind goes over the edge into some distant land of warm pleasure. Your walls spasmed violently, and Miguel's gasps became thin, adjusting his hold on your hips under the clench of your muscles against his length. He holds onto his decency poorly, strain bundled in his brow.

“Could you-- inside?” you said between his thrusts, muffled by the fingers hooked in your moist mouth.

“I do that-- and-- you'll get pregnant,” you’re both older now, he wants to think wiser than being two stupid kids fucking one another without care. Not that his pull-out game was particularly great back then-- Miggy please, you cry his name out, a tone that is stretched sweetly thin, walls spasming tightly over his fat cock. He muffles a curse, his pace jagged and uneven, desperate.

“Please, I miss it,” you cry, a litany of please threatening his ability to be well-behaved. He never was good at that in the first place, never good at saying no. Miguel drags you onto his cock, complying with a groan that he didn’t mean to be quite so loud. Thick streams of cum fill your tight little hole, bubbling out around the site of your union. He rides out the tails of his orgasm, earning you desperate little snaps of his shaking hips.

“Ay dios,” Miguel came down from his high with a slap to your ass, ripping his other hand free from your mouth to comb through his hair. He didn’t just-- he did. Miguel threw a glance at you, your shy eyes hiding behind an embroidered pillow. “I came inside.”

Coño. Great. Just-- great.

“I can feel it,” you teased him. He was stressed out, seeing a stream of his cum dribbling out from your cunt. He didn’t even know how to take care of one. How was he going to take care of two? His eyes narrowed.

“You best pray that it don’t take.”

“Don’t think I control that, Miguel.”

He pieced himself together smoothly, failing to notice anything but the emptiness that settled in your chest. A sigh left his chest and Miguel would set a kiss on the top of your head, looking toward the clothes-covered chair. Your eyebrows drew together in the realization that Miguel did not intend to stay.

“Are you leaving already?” You whined, pulling his name out from somewhere deep and lonely. He knew what it was. He just fucked you-- and now, he was going to run off. “Where you off to?”

“I got something to do. I’ll be back another day.”

A frown marred your soft features, lips slapped shut. You pushed away the warm quilt and slipped below it with your head on pillows that still smelled of Peter. You took one, propped it under your arm, and hid your lovely face from view. Silence filled the suddenly stuffy room. Other women would whine and complain about his fuck-and-run attitude. He didn't usually care.

Miguel dropped his pants, drawing closer to look at you. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he could see an ounce of the grief in your watery eyes. Panic, embodied in sparks of anxiety, spilled down his chest. Filled his stomach full with a fear of aggravating your already damaged state.

“Hermosa…” he began, his voice tender and soft. He slipped behind your back, his fingers running across your waist. "What is it?"

“I’m-- I don’t want to be alone. I didn’t want you to go,” you stammered into the pillow, blinking back tears that fell so readily. You didn't want to say what happened, but you needed his comfort more than sex. Your words were heavy, hard to make out, almost as if you were suffocating. “Not so soon.”

“Then I stay,” he said, husky and soft.

“You’ll stay?”

His muscular arms bunched around your waist as he set a kiss on the top of your head. He was careful, sliding you away from the hunched position on your bed onto his chest. He’d stay if that was what you wanted. Not permanently. He could never afford you such a promise here, where many a man had 2099 reasons to chase him down. You were his reason to stay, to keep you safe. The other slept next door. Or, he hoped she was sleeping.

“For tonight.”

He forgot what this felt like, the ability to stay in bed with someone you cared for, no pressure to run. Miguel was disheartened without his gun in arms reach, instead combing his fingers through your hair, watching the moon draw overhead. At some point, your breath faded into a gentle rise and drop in your chest to the tune of the whistling wind against the side of your home.

He found himself awake for minutes after, focusing on the bright moon multiple times that night, her embrace cool and welcoming. The constellations pale in comparison to the bright light that streamed into the room. He could almost imagine doing this every day, in another world, where his head wasn’t on a wanted flyer in your biblia. Sleep claimed him, restful and horrible, and hours passed.

The gun was hot. Miguel's fingers trembled, wrapped around the grip of his mother's old gun. "Lupe! Miguel, oh glory, Miguel what did you do?" He hears your distant scream, the desperation rooted in your voice. There was a pool of blood by his feet, dripping out from a woman who gave him nothing but grief.

"What I had to," As much as he'd tell you that killing her, rather than wounding her, was wholly an accident, he knew it wasn't. It was another something he had to do. He knew the next something would be your father wielding that ancient rifle and putting a claim on his head.

Shit. He wakes with a start. Miguel soothes the bags under his eyes. Not a day had gone past that he had good dreams-- less so when he was in a proper bed with a woman. Not any woman, but his woman. You're dead asleep against his chest, his arm having long since gone numb. Still as beautiful as hours ago, blissed out and well fucked, the bruising on your face reminds him that he has shit to do.

There is little disrespect like the disrespect of a man molesting your love, the mother of your child. But you don’t want a body from him. So he would be gentle with this, unpeeling himself from your warmth and striding into town while the moon still howled in the sky, knowing where a useless scum bag like Aaron Delgado would be. He’d be drinking up, his liver fat and useless.

The saloon was still somehow rowdy, stuffed to the brim with men who sought relief from family life and women who knew the easiest way to make a buck off pretty lies. Popping into the saloon was stepping back into his usual life, one of little value other than the skills it gave him. Namely, his hand hooked around the gun.

“Hey handsome,” a maid cooed, trying to call his attention. But he’s not focused on the breasts in his face as he veered past, pushing through groups of standing men. He came up behind Aaron, who was dead asleep on the bar. It never failed that he looked sloppy, his booze soaking his ruffled shirt.

“What can I get you?” the barman said.

Miguel gripped Aaron’s collar and what little hair wasn’t balding, lifting and cracking the man’s head hard on the bar. Aaron may not have been awake before but he was sure now, blinking the stars out of his eyes.

“The hell!”

The sound of feet against the squeaky old floor marked the rush of steps out of the bar. Miguel kicked Aaron’s bar seat out from underneath him, sending him careening onto the floor with a heavy thump.

“Miguel?” he snapped, bright-eyed, eyes trained on Aaron. Aaron snapped his hand to his hip. Miguel leveled his gun at Aaron, threatening him to touch it, just try. Blood flowed free from Aaron’s nose. He pushed it away with the back of his hand, smug smile like he knew Miguel would show up.

“It is you. I knew you’d be around.”

That's him. Some stragglers, friends of Aaron’s no doubt, lurched forward. Miguel shot into the ground by Aaron’s hip as a warning. It burst into the floor with a booming pop. He had no qualms about making double murder a triple, quadruple if he had to. Aaron pushed himself onto one arm. Miguel’s foot connected with Aaron’s ribs, sending him soaring across the floor. He connected with an aged piano, a bundle of keys singing under the small man who stumbled past Aaron's poor, shitty friends.

“C’mon,” Aaron pushed himself up on his palms. "Kicking a man while he's down?"

“You didn't think twice about breaking in and hitting my woman."

Miguel knelt down, checking the urge to blow his face off, but not now. Not while you had a stake in this shit of a town. Aaron's face quivered, what little friends he had gossiping in and among one another, others slipping the fuck out. Aaron has nothing useful to say.

"You so much as think of touching my woman again and you won’t be so much as crawling out of here. The undertaker be putting you under, you hear?"

“Gimme a break. What I did was nothing compared to what you did to Lupe."

"Don't you fuckin' dare bring her up."

"I just touched on her. You killed my wife. She felt mighty nice, Miguel, bet you’re mighty proud--”

Miguel considers himself good up til that point, walloping the butt of his gun across Aaron’s face to force compliance. Once, twice, maybe three times. After the third, he lost the thin hold he had on his control. He just knows it's enough to where the bruises that formed on his face would make yours seem like gentle love taps. He beats the man bloody and slips out to the sound of calls for Sherriff Morales.

He never was good at handling disrespect.

#miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #miguel o'hara/you #atsv imagine #atsv imagines #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv au #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara fic #spider 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel smut #atsv smut

[ohniki]

𝜗𝜚 Beginning of Us || s.jy

~ Sypnosis: It’s only when you leave that you begin to realize you need them

~ Genre: strangers to friends to lovers, college au, fluff, angst, smut

~ Warnings: Smut!! oral (f. receiving), missionary, doggy, fingering, bathtub sex, breast fondling, tummy bulge, unprotected sex, soft sex, rough sex, slight sub jake, trust issues, they are very toxic for each other mentions of infidelity, Jake being a dumbass bf 😒, alcohol consumption, aussie line (skz) cameo, oc is soooo delulu, she doesn’t know better 🤦🏻‍♀️, bestie sunoo n heeseung 🥹, heartbreak (on many different occasions) 😞, oc js wants to be loved 💔 major angst THEY ARE TOXIC FOR EACH OTHER

• currently playing: if it’s not you by PRYVT

~ wc: 21.7k

It is the start of exam season; the snow is starting to fall from the sky, and it’s become cloudy most days. The walk from your dorm to your class was so cold that you had double-layered for today’s weather. On your way to class, you get pushed back by someone. Before you could turn around to scold whoever it was, he bolted.

“Fucking bitch” you muttered under your breath. You only got a glimpse of his brunette hair and red jacket. He was tall and had a lean figure, he’s not someone you’ve seen around campus. Picking your things up you make your way over to class. Days like these make you regret not taking online courses.

After class, you texted your best friend Sunoo to meet you for lunch. The café you entered was warm; unlike outside, you ordered yourself a hot chocolate to warm your body up. After you pick up your order you bump into someone for the second time today, Looking up you see it's the same man who bumped into you earlier. The burning sensation of the hot chocolate hits your skin through your jacket. “Fuck,” you whisper under your breath “Watch where you’re going, asshole!” The man turns to your standing frame and frantically grabs napkins from the counter. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” His eyes go wide as he pushes the napkins into your hand “Please let me buy you another one, I’ll even buy you a new jacket”. The voice that comes from his lips takes you by surprise.

He has an Australian accent; It’s an accent you haven’t heard from around here before. The unfamiliar voice sends shivers down your spine. Raising your head from your jacket to the man standing in front of you, you find dark brown eyes looking into yours; ‘he’s so pretty’ you think. You have to pause for a moment to search your mind for something to say back to him.

“Please, buying me new clothes is unnecessary, but I would appreciate it if you bought me another drink. Just watch where you’re going next time,” you tell him

“Yeah, of course. What did you order? I’ll pay for it,” He begins to pull his wallet out to get ready to pay for his and your order.

“A hot chocolate” He walks over to the barista and orders.

After paying for the food he turns to you again and bows his head down, a look of shame spread across his handsome face. “Look I’m sorry again”

“It’s okay really. Stop with the apologies, buying my drink is enough”

“Order for Jake!” the barista calls out.

After getting your drink from the boy, Jake, speaks up again.

“Can I take you out to lunch? For one last apology?”

Before you can answer him your phone rings. The name read ‘Sunoo’.

“Maybe another time, Jake” You smile at him and answer your phone.

Catching sight of Sunoo as you walk into the restaurant, Sunoo looks up from his phone and waves you down.

“Hey! Why are you so late I thought we said 12:30,” he says in a sassy tone.

“Something happened at the café I was at. Some guy bumped into me, and I spilled my drink all over myself. He ended up paying for it, but he asked me to lunch. I kinda told him no because I was already on my way to see your ass and I already had plans.” You explained the whole ordeal that had gone down.

“Was he cute?” he asked

“He was” You smile down at your fidgeting hands.

“He had an accent too; I don’t think he’s from around here,” you think out loud.

Sunoo looks at you with a dumbfounded face “Yeah, no shit Sherlock, of course, he’s not from around here. Who else have you met with an Australian accent around here” he rolls his eyes playfully.

You laugh at him. He begins to talk about how his day had gone so far. “Oh my god, Heeseung is driving me insane.” He talks about his roommate. “He’s been blasting his speaker so loud with his goddamn guitar while I’m studying for my thousands of upcoming tests.” He speaks with a sarcastic tone. “Sometimes I wish I said no to being roommates with him” Sunoo and Heeseung were the first friends you made at the new high school you went to during your senior year.

Being friends with them for a handful of time was like having a party every day. They’d drag you out of your house to get you away from studying and keep your mind off school for a while.

“Why don’t you tell him to shut up? It works when I do it” you shrug at him.

He tilts his head up and sighs. “It only works because it’s you, he always listens to you but not me” he gives a side-eye.

“Then I can’t help you there buddy” You ruffle his hair. 

Thankfully, today your schedule was free. Your shift at the library didn’t start until one o’clock this afternoon so you were stuck studying for the rest of your tests you had coming up. It was only ten, and you called up Sunoo and Heeseung and asked if you could stay at their place until you had to go to work. Of course, they agreed and you made your way over.

The frost in the air hits your skin as you walk out of your apartment. The sky was gloomy, but the sun peeked through just a bit. Gloomy days always make you feel cozy. They made you want to stay inside and curl up in your blanket. But today you needed to be productive; you had shit to get done.

Walking up the stairs to their dorm you already had a spare key they gave you “in case of an emergency” as they said. You unlock the door and hear the obnoxious noise Sunoo was talking about, Heeseung’s electric guitar. When you walk in Sunoo is sitting on the floor working on top of the coffee table in front of the T.V. He was wearing a thick hoodie due to the cold air blowing through their room.

“Hey,” you shouted over the loudspeaker.

“Finally! Can you please tell him to turn off the speaker and shut the fuck up? I can’t fail this semester, or it’ll be the end of me.” Nodding your head at him you stomp your way to Heeseung’s room.

“HEESEUNG” you yell as loud as you can. He hears nothing. Too focused on his guitar you walk up to the plug of his speaker and unplug it.

“Hey!” before realizing that it’s you his expression changes.

“Oh, hi ___” he smiles at you.

Sunoo walks in behind you next to the door.

“Oh so, you listen to her and not me? You’re such a little shit.” He whips his head and walks back to the living room.

You snicker at him.

“We are trying to study. And you should be too, don’t you have exams coming up next week?” you ask.

“Yeah, but I wanted to practice playing a little before I started.”

You walk up to him and drag him by his arm to where Sunoo is waiting for you.

“Well practice is over, hurry and get your things. I’ll help you.” He sits down beside you and pouts as he takes his books from under the coffee table.

It’s been about two hours since you started your study session. It was almost time for you to leave for work.

“Okay, now that you know the formula for this make it into a simplified equation”

Heeseung looks at you with confusion written all over his face.

“Are you kidding me right now, Hee, we’ve been over this for the past hour how do you still not get it.” you deadpan.

“Because he doesn’t have a brain” Sunoo butts in.

You sigh heavily as you start to collect your things. Sunoo looks up at you and begs “No! Don’t leave me here with him. If you do, I’ll fail my exams because I’ve lost brain cells listening to him talk about nonsense.” You look down at where he’s sitting, and you laugh at him

“You’ll be fine, if anything come by the library and study there. I’ll be in until six. And you too.” you point a finger at Heeseung.

“We have books in there that will help with your exam,” you tell him.

“Alright, fine if you’re working tomorrow, we’ll swing by,” Heeseung says.

“Good. I’ll see you guys tomorrow then!”

You put your shoes on and your coat closing the door behind you. You make your way to the library.

“I hate you” Sunoo stares at Heeseung.

It’s getting closer to the time you’re supposed to clock in. Making it just a few minutes early you go through the door, and you’re hit with a gust of warm air. The library was packed with students. Now that it was getting closer to exam time, this was the busiest time in the library.

As you make your way behind the desk you meet with someone already sitting in your seat.  It’s the same head of brunette hair you bumped into a few days ago. Walking towards him, he catches you from the corner of his eye and smiles at you. 

“Hey” you smile at him

“Oh, hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to stay this long for overtime” he apologizes.

“It seems every time we meet you’re always apologizing for something.” you chuckle

“Yeah, sorry about that” you laugh at him this time.

“No, it’s okay. It’s cute” At that he smiles. His cheeks are rosy from the blush.

 “So, when did you start working here?” you ask him to make conversation.

“I started working here a few days ago actually” You get distracted by his accent. There was something about you and your accents. You had always found them attractive. And his face? God, he was so pretty; you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Shaking out of your daydreams you snap back to reality.

“Oh, so that’s why I haven’t seen you around here,” you say curiously

“Yeah, I just transferred here from Australia. I had better opportunities here.”

“Ah, I see. How do you like it so far over here?” you ask him. You had never met a foreigner before; he seemed like an interesting person to you and you wanted to know more about him.

“Did you move here with your family or are you on your own?” you look at him. He speaks to you while holding eye contact.

“No, I’m not alone actually. Her name is Layla. I brought her with me, so I wasn’t by myself.” Your heart sinks a little. You expected him to be single since he offered to take you out for lunch.

Curiously you ask, “How long have you been with her?”

“Ever since she was born,” he says

What? Is he? No.

“I’m sorry what?” caught off guard you ask him “What do you mean since birth”

He looks at you and laughs “She’s my dog. I’ve had her since she was a puppy”

Your eyes widen. How embarrassing, of course, he has a dog named Layla. You laugh loudly at your mistake

“Oh my god, I thought... ugh this is so embarrassing.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about” he shakes his head slightly and reassures you

“What about you? Do you have any pets?”

“No, I don’t” you chuckle

“I do have two best friends though, Sunoo and Heeseung”

“They’re guys?” he gives you a look that makes you feel slightly off, but you shake it off.

“Yep! I take care of them, make sure they’re doing well.” You say sarcastically. “They’re my best friends. They’re like my older brothers, they look out for me, you know?”

The conversation flows as you continue to talk to him. You don’t notice the time flying by when you look out the window near the front desk. Your eyes graze over to the clock and it’s already past the time you were supposed to clock out.

Hastily collecting your things and pushing the chairs in as you stand up and walk over to the lights. “Sorry, I spent so much time talking about myself I didn’t even notice the time passed by” you chuckle nervously.

“No, don’t apologize. I enjoyed spending my time with you. Plus, barely anyone walked through the door today. Helped pass the time”

When you smile up at him your cheeks flush with red. Eyes rising to look at him up close made you realize how handsome he was. You notice his prominent cheekbones when he smiles. And the glow in his eyes in the light of the lamp next to the desk.

Checking back into reality, you both make sure everything is shut off before leaving.

“I think we should head out now, it’s getting pretty late, and I have an early class tomorrow.”

“Yeah, me too,” he says softly. He bends down to pick up his bag from the floor. Jake throws it over his shoulders and turns the last light out on the desk.

As you make your way through the door you’re hit with the cool breeze of December air. You turn to Jake and look up into his eyes. The moonlight hits him just right. Highlighting his prominent cheekbones and his bright brown eyes. It’s quiet for a moment. You don’t realize how close you have gotten to him. Breaths inches apart. Your eyes glide down to his lips for a second before you catch his eyes again. 

“So, I’ll see you on Wednesday then?” a smile slowly appearing across his face.

“Yeah, I’ll see you”

You nod your head and head back to your dorm. He regrets not asking for your number that night.

Your morning was off to a horrendous start; you had woken up late and ended up being late to class for about thirty minutes. The lecture was an hour long, so you still had time to get some information out of it. You had been so tired the night before you had overslept and missed your alarm.

Rushing out of your door, you had forgotten to prepare your breakfast the night before. There was no time to stop now. When you walk through the door of the auditorium the door slams shut behind you and all eyes are on you. Embarrassingly walking over to your seat the professor calls for your name, “Please if you’re going to be late, try to do it quietly. I don’t need you distracting my students” Bowing your head slightly your ears turn red out of embarrassment. 

You silently walk past a few students with your head down. Jake discreetly looks at you from one of the seats closer to the top. He smiles at the way you cover your face as you look for a seat. Finally, you sit down and listen to what's left of the lesson.

Walking out of class, you hear heavy footsteps from behind you. Your name comes out of someone’s mouth and you look over your shoulder to find the culprit.

“Hey,” Jake puts his arm around your shoulder.

Looking up at him, he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you wanted to hang out, you know, outside of work?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. He takes notice of the bright glimmer in your eyes. Moving your head down you laugh lightly and tuck your hair behind your ear

“Yeah, sure. I’d like that” turning your head up to look at him. 

“Okay great, are you free this afternoon? For lunch?” he asks

You pause to think about the mental calendar you have set in your head. 

“Uhm, let me check”

Not recalling any texts or calls from Sunoo you smile up at him 

“Yes, I can do this afternoon,” you say to him.

He smiles to himself; he can hear his heart beating in his head. The adrenaline pumps through his veins as he thinks about things he can do to spend his time with you. 

“Okay, cool. I’ll see you around twelve?”

“Yeah”

“Meet me at the coffee shop near the science building,” he finally decides as he slowly moves his arm from your shoulder. You nod your head and make your way to your next class as you part ways. When you stop in your step you realize you don’t have his number. Before you could call out for his name he had already disappeared to class. You’ll just have to wait for him to show up.

It was nearing lunchtime; some students had already left campus. After walking out of class your feet guide you to the coffee shop Jake had told you to meet him at. Today’s weather was nicer than most days. It was sunny outside but still somewhat cold. Turning the corner of the building you see the coffee shop, but no sign of Jake.

When you stand outside many people walk past you. It was now 12:20. You turn around from where you’re standing and that’s when you see Jake running around the corner. Slowing down his pace you realize he is out of breath from running. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says catching his breath. You stare at him as you wait for him to explain.

“Professor had me stay in to help him sort out some documents and I didn’t pay attention to the time, and I didn’t have your number to text you”

Deciding to let him off the hook you chuckle lightly and place a hand over his shoulder to reassure him.

“It’s okay, I was planning on asking for your number when you asked me out today, but you were gone before I could even ask you,” you tell him softly.

“Sorry about that too, I was going to ask you that day at the library, but I chickened out,” he admits

“Well give me your phone, so we have some sort of communication when we're not together” You hold your hand out for him. He pulls his phone out and hands it to you.

When you hand it back to him, he reads your name with a butterfly emoji. Smiling down at his phone he hears your phone ding with an unknown number. You save it as Jake’s number.

“There, now if we need something we can call or text each other!” you say with enthusiasm

He shakes his head at you and guides you into the café. You walk in and find a seat to sit at, Jake ends up pulling your chair out at the table near the window. Thanking him you place your jacket on the back of your seat and he takes his seat, and you spark up the conversation.

“How are your classes so far? Have the professors given you a hard time?” you ask him. He waits to respond, thinking about his answer.

“They’ve been a bit stressful; I just think it’s because I’ve transferred so late into the year. And the professors? They’re just like every other professor, assign way too many assignments and look like they don’t want to be there.”

You laugh at that.

“What about you? Are you from around this area?” He asks you the question this time.

“I’m originally from Cali, I applied for college over here because I’ve always wanted to explore Korea,” you tell him.

“One of my friends had told me about his trip here and it sounded like he had so much fun,”

“Ah, well both of my parents are from here.” He explains. “I wanted to get to know more of where I come from. They moved us over to Australia when I was about five years old” Thinking about his hometown, he begins to miss his mom’s homemade food and his old hometown friends.

“I’ve wanted to travel to a bunch of places. I just never found the time.”

He begins to go on about the exciting places he wishes to adventure. You spend most of your afternoon with him. You’re starting to enjoy spending your time with him and you end up asking him to hang out again the next day.

As you walk out of the café the cold air hits you once again.

“I have to get going for my next class. But if you’re free, do you maybe, wanna hang out again tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah I’d like that.” he smiles at you

“Okay great! I’ll see you around the same time as today, then?”

“Yes, and I’ll make sure to make it on time” Laughing at him you nod your head.

“Bye, Jake”

You walk away and make your way over to class.

Exams were getting closer, but on the brighter side winter break was just around the corner. You and Jake had been hanging out a lot more since that day he asked you out to lunch. Your shift at the library started and you had Sunoo and Heeseung stick around to study one last time. Heeseung agreed–against his will, to tag along but he’d much rather practice his guitar skills than be at the stupid library studying for exams.

Jake told you he wouldn’t be in today because he had to sort some things out in one of his professors’ classes. You agreed to take on double the time in his place.

Sunoo and Heeseung sat at the table near the front desk where you were sitting. You were talking about classes when Sunoo suddenly brought up Jake’s name.

“What’s going on between you two?” he asked

“Nothing, we're just friends,” you say nonchalantly 

“Ah I see, and paying for everything and asking you out every single day is being ‘just friends’, sure”

“Sunoo, you’re being delusional. He’s just being a nice person”

“Whatever you say” he raises his eyebrows and shrugs his shoulders.

“I mean he’s cute, but I don’t think we’d become a thing; I met him not even a month ago,” you say as you add the last things to your notes.

It’s been hours since any of you spoke; focusing hard on your studies. The door opens as a gust of cold air is pushed your way. You look up to see who it is. Jake stood there, wearing his puffer; and his messy brunette hair sticking out in places due to the wind.

He walks over to your seat and greets you. He puts a hand on your back and sits down in the chair next to you. Sunoo and Heeseung watch the whole interaction.

“Hey,” he smiles. Taking you by surprise, he brought you dinner. “What’s this?” he places the brown bag down next to you on the desk, placing his arm around the back of your chair.  You look up at Sunoo as he’s eyeing you, waiting for you to introduce them. Giving you a look that says, ‘Just friends?’. You shake your head and focus your attention on them.

“Jake this is Sunoo and Heeseung. The best friends I told you about.” you move your hand gesturing to them.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Jake.” he holds his hand out for them to shake.

“I know who you are.” Sunoo smiles at him and puts his hand under his chin.

Jake slowly pulls his hand back and laughs under his breath

“I’ve heard quite a lot about you actually” he looks over at you and grins. You roll your eyes at your best friend.

“I’m Heeseung. It’s nice to meet you too” he says politely smiling at him; unlike Sunoo 

Bringing your attention down to your phone next to you you realize the time. It’s starting to get late, and you want to be in your bed and snuggle into your blanket considering the cold weather. Gathering your stuff, you excuse yourself.

“Wow, look at the time. It’s getting late. You guys should get going too, don’t you have early classes Hee?” you ask

Heeseung nods his head at you and picks up his books. Then, he stuffs them in his backpack.

“And thank you for the dinner, Jake. It was sweet of you.” When you smile at him you notice a subtle blush growing on his cheeks. He rubs the back of his head and smiles back at you.

“It was no big deal. But why don’t I walk you home? I don’t want you out this late at night alone.”

Agreeing to his proposal you pick your things up and bid farewell to your friends.

Just as you’re about to turn around you see a shit-eating grin on Sunoo’s face, you turn to flip him off and make your way out of the door. Jake holds it open for you and a few other people behind you leaving the library. With the final person out, you make your way over to your dorm.

The walk is silent for a while. Jake takes in a deep breath, takes the wheel, and guides the flow of a conversation “Your friends seem nice. I like Heeseung. I mean we barely said a sentence to each other, but he seems nice.” he says. And then he brings up the blabbermouth.

“And Sunoo? Was it? He said he’s heard a lot about me?” he says with a smirk on his lips.

“Do you talk about me?” He brings it up again. You start to feel the embarrassment creep up from your chest to your face. You can feel your ears start to warm up as they go unnoticeably red. Your hands go up to cover them, Jake stares at you for a moment as you walk.

“Hmm?” you pretend to think

“I don’t think I talk about you THAT often” you laugh it off

“But you do happen to come up in a sum of conversations”

“Sure” he leaves it at that. Nearing the building of your dorm, Jake stops as you get closer to the entrance.

“Well this is my stop” You tilt your head to look at his features smiling at him

“And, thank you for walking me home; and for the dinner” You lift the bag.

“I told you it’s no big deal. I enjoyed my time walking with you. To be completely honest I enjoyed every time I’ve spent with you.” he pauses to think about what to say to you next.

“I’m less alone than I thought I’d be since I met you”

This makes you blush; hard. The feeling in your stomach is making feel things. Like butterflies erupted in your tummy. You felt a sense of pride after hearing him say that about you. Your heart, rapidly thumping in your chest.

“I’m glad I was the person you bumped into that day or else I would’ve been stuck with Sunoo and Heeseung” You roll your eyes playfully.

“Oh c’mon, they can’t be that bad”

“Please, try being with them 24/7 for four years. It’s like I’m babysitting two toddlers”

He laughs at that. He starts to feel the same way you do after he sees your smile. It's not your normal smile. It’s that big bright smile you show when you’re belly laughing. He finds it so adorable he could just kiss you. And he might just do that. Because you see him lean in after you’ve calmed down from your high of laughter. Looking up at him you finally realize what he’s doing.

And you do nothing to stop it, you’re already leaning into him too. When you close your eyes, you feel his soft lips against yours. The kiss is soft and gentle. He feels your smile against him, teeth clashing, and it causes him to do the same as well. Jake’s hand is placed in your hair and the other is placed on your neck. The butterflies have made their way to your chest.

This feeling ignites something new in you. A feeling you haven’t felt in a while. Finally, pulling apart, he leans his forehead against yours and stays there for a minute before he says something.

He chuckles under his breath and says “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” You giggle into his chest and place a small peck on his lips. When opens his eyes he feels you pull back from him. “Thank you again for tonight. Text me when you get home, safely” you tell him as you walk backward to the door.

“Goodnight Jake”

He stands there still in shock about what had just occurred. Not believing he had just had his first kiss with you. After registering what you had said, he nods his head and turns around.

“Goodnight,” he says under his breath.

Today is full of exams, right after today is the start of your freedom. You called Sunoo and Heeseung over to help them study for one last and final time. When you hear Sunoo’s knock on the door you walk over to your door and open it for them.

“Did you guys fuck?” is the first thing he says to you. Unbelievable.  You shake your head at him and push him into your room.

“Jeez Sunoo, let the girl breathe. You were just ambushing her with questions about him yesterday. When is it enough?!” he exclaimed.

Sunoo and you pause for a minute and look at each other. Then, you both burst into laughter at your friend’s outburst. Heeseung gives you both an annoyed look as they both walk into the living room. Sunoo waits patiently for you to spill your guts on what happened between you and the boy. As per his request, you explain and finally spew what had happened.

“We kissed”

“I knew something happened between you two!” He starts jumping around the room, his hands balled into a fist out of excitement

“Okay calm down, you’re acting like they’re getting married,” Heeseung says.

You go to sit next to Heeseung pull your laptop out of its bag and begin studying. Sunoo finally calmed down, he walked into the kitchen to get snacks for the time being

It’s been over an hour since the boys came over. Your phone suddenly rings and when you turn it over to see who was calling; Jake’s name appears on the screen. 

“Hey, are you doing anything right now?”

You look back at your friends, they seem to be occupied with their work. You stand up from your seat and walk to the kitchen. Making sure Sunoo wouldn’t eavesdrop on your conversation

“No, I’m not doing anything, why?” you ask curiously

“Great, do you wanna hang out?”

A smile starts to spread across your face when you feel that same feeling you felt the other night erupt in your stomach.

“Yeah, just give me a few minutes and text me when you’re here”

By the time you're finished getting ready, Sunoo looks up at you with a confused look.

“And where are you going?”

“Out”

“Out where?” he raises one of his eyebrows

“With Jake?”

You stay quiet, and you start to feel a smile creep on your face.

When your phone dings with a notification, your heartbeat picks up. The text read ‘I’m here’.

“Bye, guys!” 

“Wait-” Before you could let him continue his sentence you close the door and walk down the stairs to Jake.

When you walk out the door you can see Jake standing next to the bench near the door, on his phone, patiently waiting for you to emerge from your dorm. Your last exam started around late afternoon; you had the time to spend with Jake. Neither of you had discussed what happened between the two of you the night before.

When you open the door Jake can feel his heartbeat speed up at the thought of you. Turning, he’s face to face with you now before he can stop himself, he has his arms wrapped around your waist. He barely pulls away and your faces are so close your lips are touching. You lean in, peck his lips in a quick action, and smile.

“Hi,” you say quietly

You look so adorable. Your cheeks have gotten red due to the cold outside. He smiles at you pulls away and grabs your hand walking beside you.

“So where are we going?” you ask curiously looking up at him

Without answering he smiles and takes the lead.

“It’s a surprise,” he says with a smirk on his face

“What do you mean surprise?” you ask. An unsure smile appears on your lips

“Trust me, hmm?” Taking a deep breath and taking a leap of faith in trusting him. Walking over to his car he opens the door for you. Thanking him he closes the door and walks over to the driver's seat.

It’s been about an hour since Jake picked you up from your dorm, and you end up in the middle of a gorgeous cherry magnolia tree. The white petals slowly fall from the branch. There’s a bridge leading up to a forest of them you gasp out loud bringing your hands up to your mouth and letting go of his. Walking across the bridge you take in the sight of the white flowers growing on the branches. This has to be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever come across. Turning back to Jake, you ask him “How do you know about this place? It’s so pretty, I didn’t even know this was here”

He looks around at the trees and makes you wait for a response

“I don’t know, had a couple of friends help me pick out a place you’d like. Plus I did do a little bit of digging. And by digging I mean I asked Sunoo what your favorite flower was”

At the mention of his friends, you think back and rack your brain, trying to remember if Jake ever mentioned any of his friends. Now realizing you’ve never met any of them. Remembering Sunoo mentioning this place, he wanted to visit sometime over winter break. You smile at the thought of Jake going to your friend for advice.

Caught up in your thoughts you don’t notice when Jake walks up behind you. A shiver runs up your spine when you feel his warm hands run along your waist, softly digging his face into the crook of your neck. Taking in the scent of strawberries, and looking around at the trees; you can’t get enough of how pretty the trees are during this time.

They must be even prettier during the springtime, you think. Fallen magnolia flowers pile near a bench, you walk over and take a seat pulling Jake by his hand to follow you. He pulled out his phone opened the camera app and snuck a few snaps of you. You looked so beautiful to him that he couldn’t resist, he set a reminder in his head to add it to your contact. Watching you made him feel so many things; things he’s never felt before for someone.

When you look back at him you pause for a moment, the look on his face makes you blush. Unconsciously he slowly leans into you faces close so close you can feel his cold breath against his, foreheads touching, finally lips touching. The taste of your sweet lips on his makes him burst with warmth.

The feeling of his soft lip against yours makes your tummy do summersaults, and your body feels immune to the cold as the warmth radiating from his body makes you feel like you are sitting next to a fire. Slowly, pulling away his big brown eyes look into yours. Crinkled at the corners as you smile at him. Breathing in you begin to question what your situation is now

Do you put a label on it? Are you guys boyfriend and girlfriend? Does he think this is just you ‘fooling around’? All those questions disappear when you speak up

“So what does this mean for us?” you ask

“Will you be mine?”

Finally, after waiting for so long. Nodding your head in response a big smile forms on your precious lips and you throw your arms around him. Feeling nothing but joy and happiness at this moment you get to share with your boyfriend

With finals out of the way and winter break starting Jake was over at your place for hours on end. Intimacy has been out of the picture for quite some time now. You wanted to see where this would go first. He took you out on dates around the city and he would even drive you out of town to show you some places he had seen while mindlessly scrolling on Tiktok and wanted to take you there.

Sitting on the couch with your boyfriend you both agreed to stay in today and put on traditional Christmas movies. Your head lay on his chest while his hands settled on your lower back. His hoodie was covering his long brunette hair, and his glasses over his features. In the small silence of the room with the movie quietly playing in the back, Jake starts to move his hands lower. Your hands end up moving up to his neck as you look up at him and scoot closer, you're face to face with him. Faces inches apart you slowly move your way closer to him. Your lips land on his and you move into a slow kiss. His soft lips melt into yours.

Moving his tongue between your lips for access; you grant him what he needs. The room is filled with the smacking of your lips. Sitting up Jake pulls you over his hips and he places his hands on your ass and squeezes.  You let out a small whine when his cold hands make their way under the thin sweater you wore and make contact with your warm skin.

As he moves his hands upwards, the sweater starts to ride up your stomach making its way over your head the sweater is left on the floor now. Letting out a small gasp as your perked nipples come in contact with the cold air. Jake leans down and places his lips over your chest, the sensation makes you wet. You grind your hips over his hard-on; his loud groan filling the room.

Moaning into your chest, he kisses his way up over your neck. He stays there for a while, sucking and licking. You can feel your panties getting wetter from his actions he flips you over throws his glasses off onto the table, and lifts his hoodie off over his head. The sight of his abs makes you rub your thighs together to relieve the ache between them. Jake hooks his fingers on the waistband of your pants and pulls them down. Not before he asks, “You sure you want this?”

“Please, Jake. I need you so bad”

This turns him into a madman. He tears your pants off along with your soiled panties. He makes fast movements, bringing his fingers down to your heat and glides them through your folds.

“All this for me baby? Did I do this to you? So fucking needy you have your panties drenched for me? Huh, darling?”

“Only for you” you moan as his thumb comes in contact with your clit. Whimpering lowly, Jake makes his way down kissing your stomach, he stops at your pelvis. He looks up at you with his lower lip hanging low, jawline so fine he can through the tension between the two of you. He takes in the sight of your fucked out expression and moves his head under the blanket you shared.

He kisses your thighs and hooks his arms around them his lips hovered over yours, gripping his hair, needy for him. Finally, he digs his face into your sopping cunt, his tongue finds your clit and slowly he draws slow circles, teasing you.

“Jake, please”

“Be patient, baby. I swear I’ll make you feel so good”

Trusting his word, you let him do his thing. His tongue glides through your pussy making you quiver. Pulling your hips closer to his face, making sure you don’t move. Eating you out like it’s his last meal he rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit, your thighs shaking beside him from the pleasure. The sloppy sound of your pussy is the only sound in the room, the sound of the TV blocked out by the pleasure. Moving your hand up to your soft tit, you roll your nipple between your fingers moaning his name, not giving a care if you are too loud or not.

“Ugh, Jake you make me feel so good”

Gripping his hair hard you start to feel the burning sensation in your lower stomach. Chasing after your orgasm you start to blank, forgetting your own name his digits find your entrance. Dwelling in the feeling of your wet cunt against his lips he slowly enters you. Whines spew from your throat as you arch your back, looking down at him. Taking in the sight of his tongue repeatedly lap your cunt.  You bite your lip so hard you think you're bleeding. Letting out a loud gasp you pull him up by his hair and bring him back to you; kissing his lips, you can taste yourself on his tongue.

“I need your cock, so bad” you say softly

Pulling away from you he pulls his sweats down along with his boxers. Impatient, he pulls his throbbing cock out teasing it against your entrance. Swollen, dripping, red tip, needy for your cunt.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I’m on the pill, it’s okay.”

Leaning in and giving you a sweet peck against your lips he sinks in slowly. His pace is slow at first, letting you adjust to him. You can feel every inch of him sinking in, getting deeper with his slow motions. His hands are on either side of your head holding himself steady. Finally, he bottoms out. Slowly but surely picking up his pace, you can feel every vein rub against your aching walls. Slamming his hips into yours, your back arches into him, head tilted back as you moan his name out, forgetting everything in your mind as you solely focus your attention on the pleasure. As he's moving in and out, he kisses you roughly. Teeth clashing against each other; the rough sounds of his hips pushing into yours make you feel that same sensation you had felt minutes ago.

Jake lays his face in the crook of your neck and kisses your collarbone. “Who’s making you feel so good, huh? Say my name, baby c’mon” he whispers into your ear. The feeling of you wrapped around him makes him pick up his pace at an animalistic speed. Never wanting to stop, he brings his thumb down and rubs against your clit, and for the second time tonight, you reach your high. You go lightheaded, seeing stars once again, and you whine as you reach your climax.

Three final thrusts, he pulls out and finishes on your stomach. Looking down you swipe your finger against his come and bring it up to your mouth. Sucking on your finger he pulls it away and kisses you.

You wake up the next day and lay in your bed. You had a t-shirt thrown over you with a fresh set of panties. You turn to your side to find your boyfriend peacefully sleeping. Moving your arm over his shoulder he places a hand on your wrist and kisses it. Sleepy eyes looking at you; he rolls you over and places his face on your neck.

“Good morning,” he says with a sleepy voice

“Hi, baby,” you say back to him.

Looking at the clock it read 10:00 am. You both had  nowhere to be so you decide to stay in bed for a little while longer.

“How’d you sleep last night? I hope my bed was comfortable enough” you say

“It was plenty” he smiles with his eyes closed

Humming you go to walk over to the bathroom but you feel a tug on your arm. You land on his chest and he wraps his arm around you.

“Stay in bed for just a little while longer, love”

Now, finally out of bed. You and Jake made breakfast together but he soon had to go. He made plans with a friend he made while at the library. “My friend’s planning on throwing a Christmas party to celebrate the end of exams and the beginning of winter break,” his mouth still full of pancake. “You wanna come with me? You can even bring Heeseung and Sunoo along, too” Only thinking about it, Heeseung isn’t big on partying. Maybe you should ask Sunoo if he wants to go, you’re sure he doesn't have any plans. Swallowing what's left of your breakfast you perk up in your chair and give him your final decision. 

“Yeah, I’ll text Sunoo and ask if he wants to go” he picks up his and your plate and walks it over to the sink to wash them. “Okay, great! The party starts at 8, I’ll pick you up around 7:30” he explains as he puts away the now-washed plate next to the drying rack by the sink. Walking over to pick up his jacket hanging from the back of his chair he leans down and pecks you on your forehead. You rise from your seat and walk him out to the front door. When he’s done putting on his shoes you place a hand on his shoulder and rise on your tiptoes to place a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. But he moves in for a proper kiss. “I’ll see you later” Waving your hand goodbye, you watch him disappear around the corner.

With your dorm void of your boyfriend, you decide to call up Sunoo to come over. Heeseung was out of town visiting his family for the holidays so it was just him in the dorm. The phone rings three times before he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Sunoo, are you doing anything right now?” you play with your hair as you talk to him

“Nothing. Why?”

“You wanna hang out today at my place? I’m bored. It takes him a few seconds until he responds.

“Okay I’ll be over in a few”

Sitting in silence with a movie playing in the background you suddenly say “We fucked”

Sunoo is left speechless, which confuses you because ever since you have mentioned Jake all he can talk about is if you’ve gotten dicked down yet. His mouth is hung open as he tries to process what you just said. After a few minutes of silence from him, he finally yells into the air and jumps around the room like a bunny rabbit. “Oh my God! All of a sudden?! Tell me everything!” you begin to explain the whole story to him. From your date to the magnolia trees to him asking you to be his girlfriend. Talking about makes you feel all giddy all over again. Sunoo, being your best friend and all, was so unbelievably happy for you.

You would need to tell Heeseung when he got back, but knowing Sunoo he would probably tell him right when he returned to their dorm. Thinking back on everything that’s happened to you in the past months has you feeling blessed. Jake has made you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. But, sometimes you’d like to think everything is going so well. But what do they always say? There’s always a calm before the storm, is it?

“Hey, honey” your mother called you over the phone

“Hi what’s up?” placing your phone on your vanity as you touched up your makeup

Today was the party that Jake had told you about a few days ago. From what you heard from Jake, the party wasn’t supposed to be big. Just close friends of his and maybe a few other guests. You asked Sunoo if he wanted to come but long story short he had already made plans the day of but he also didn’t feel like third wheeling. He would be at his parent’s house anyway for the holidays.

“Are you coming over for Christmas? We miss you over here” From the tone of her voice you can imagine a pout forming on her lips

“Yes, Mom I already told Dad that I’d drive down to the airport and take the first flight out” You had missed your parents dearly, when you told them you wanted to go to school down in Seoul they supported you 100%. The flight from Korea to your hometown was a long way away. You were a bit disappointed that Jake wouldn’t be joining you, but understandingly he had told you that he already made plans to fly out to see his parents in Australia. 

Guessing you would just have to wait you’d till you were both back to exchange gifts. 

“Okay, Niyah misses you too she won’t stop asking for her Cuddle” ‘Cuddle’ was a name your niece gave you because she wasn’t able to say your name. Cuddle just stuck and she’s been calling you that ever since. “Tell her I’ll be back soon and that I miss her too” Smiling at the thought of your baby niece. 

“I need to go Mom. I’ll call you when I board the plane, I love you” 

“Okay be safe, I love you too” 

Your phone beeps indicating of the voice call ending. Music starts to vibrate through your room again after your abrupt phone call from your mother as you stand from your desk and walk over to your closet. Before you can look through your closet for something to wear for the party a knock is heard from the front door. Jake stands on the other side of the door with his hands behind his back waiting for you patiently to let him. 

A small “Hi, baby” comes from your mouth as you softly lean yourself against him. He places a hand behind your head and leans down, pecking your lips. “Hi, my love”

Stepping to the side you walk back to your room as he follows you. He walks over to your bed and lays down. Placing his hands behind his head as if he were relaxing in paradise. 

“Jake” you call out for his attention. Standing in front of your closet once again you pull out two dresses. A red satin dress and a simple black one

“Hm?” he says with raised eyebrows.

“Which one looks better? The black one or the red one? I can’t decide” you ask him. He looks back and forth between you and the dresses. Turning to the mirror you put both of the dresses up to your body. The ruffling of sheets can be heard behind you. You can see Jake push himself off the bed and walk towards you

Jake sneaks his hands on your waist and looks at you in the mirror. “You look good in anything, baby. But maybe the black one. I think it suits you better than the red one.” he tells you. You turn in his arms raising your arms to wrap around his neck. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he squeezes around your waist. Tilting your head back you look at him his smiling face looks down at you, his eyes searching over your soft features. 

He leans in to kiss your forehead, then down your nose, and then your lips. “Okay” Detaching your body from his, you walk to your closet to put the red dress away and put on the black one Jake had chosen.

 Jake is waiting outside in your living room as you finish up the last of your makeup and making sure you look presentable; this is your first time meeting his friends. When you walk out of your room, he looks up to the sound of your door closing and watches you in awe. You look stunning, stopping his heart for a second with the way you look tonight. A radiating smile glows on his face as he can’t seem to take his eyes off you.

He walks closer to you and stands there admiring your form. Completely breathtaking. Inching closer to you he can’t hold himself back from touching you. Slowly wrapping your arms around his waist as his hands come up to cup your cheeks.

“What?” you laugh

He softly pulls you in for a soft kiss. It’s slow and comforting, never failing to make your heart stop at every little touch. He pulls away and breathes in your scent. “You look so beautiful, darling.” Maybe you shouldn’t have added blush while you were doing your makeup. Your face was completely flush by the warmth of your dorm and the warmth he brings you every time he compliments you.

“Let’s get going now” he holds your hand and leads you to the front door. But not before you pick up your bag and you coat.

When you pull up to the party, there are a lot more people than you were told. It was more like a house party. Walking through the door, loud music was bumping through the air,  sweaty bodies were being pushed up against one another.

Jake’s holding onto your hand making sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd of people. “Let’s go to the kitchen, you want something to drink?” he yells over the music. Barely making out what he had said you nod your head at him and let him take the lead.

You don’t see many familiar faces around. Maybe some of the students you see at your lectures but that’s it. When you walk into the kitchen, Jake makes out a few familiar faces and walks over to them. He greets the many friends that he made over the past few weeks. “Hey, man,” his friend said leaning in for a hug. His eyes make their way over to you and scans you up and down. He points at you and says “Who’s this” with a smile on his face.

“Ah, guys. This is my girlfriend” he tells them your name and introduces you. “This is Chan, Jay, and Felix” He points to the one who couldn’t take his eyes away from you, Jay, and you nod your head at them as a greeting.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say

Jay speaks up and looks at you as if he knows you. “We have the same afternoon class, right? You always sit in that same seat up in the front,” he says with a smirk. “Yeah, I think we do. But I don’t think I have ever seen you” He makes a face as if you’ve shot him the heart “Oof, well to be fair I do keep to myself a lot” 

“I’m always sat in the back. We should sit together, it’s nice to know I’ll have someone in that class that I know” Jake watches the whole interaction. He clenches his jaw as he sees the way Jay keeps looking at you up and down. You haven’t noticed it as you continue to laugh at what he says.

“Yeah, we should. I don’t know a lot of people in that class so it’s nice to know that I know at least one person”

You feel Jake’s hand pull you closer to him by your waist. You look up at him to see his irritated expression. You place a hand on his cheek and turn his head to you. “What’s the matter, baby?” His jaw is locked as he has an iron grip on you “Let’s go to the living room”

He guides you to one of the couches with heavy music blaring in your ears. He takes his seat and places you on his lap. Wrapping your arm around his neck he digs his face into the crook of your neck. You can feel his lips skin over your skin, and you feel goosebumps all over. “Are you okay” you whisper into his ear for only him to hear.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Looking into your eyes they scan over your face and land on your soft lips. He turns his head to deepen the kiss and he slips his tongue through your lips. Breathing in your flowery scent his hands glide down to your ass, pushing lightly on his chest so he could let you go. You realize you’re in public with other people around. Looking at your surroundings your eyes randomly fall in line with Jay. His eyes were already on you, Jake follows your line of sight and catches Jay looking at the both of you. He pushes you off him softly and excuses himself. “I need a drink,” he says in an almost growl. Chasing after him you place a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Wait, are you mad at me?” you say in a small voice. He only shakes his head and cups your cheeks. “No, I’m not mad at you baby. I’m just a little tired. You know I’ve been a bit stressed, having to pack and plan out all my stuff to visit my family tomorrow.” You know when he’s lying, but not wanting to fight any further, you listen to him. “Why don’t we go home then huh? We can go back to my place?”

Nodding his head at your suggestion he places his hand on your lower back to guide you to the exit. Before you can make it past the door, Jay stops you and wraps his arm around Jake’s shoulder. “Leaving already,” he says “The party just started” Jake shoves his arm off and rolls his shoulder. “Look, man, I’m not in the mood right now, so why don’t you just fuck off and leave us alone” Irritation can be heard in his tone, his brows furrowed, jaw clenched. This is the angriest he’s been around you.

Thinking back to his tone, you begin to realize how rude he was. When you walk out the door you walk a few steps behind your boyfriend as you try to keep up with him you run up to him and clasp your hand with his, but he immediately pulls back. What the fuck was with him? Did you do something to upset him? You couldn’t have, he told you nothing was wrong He looks down at you with an angry look on his face. “I’m not in the mood right now. Can we just go to your apartment?”

Nodding your head lowly you begin to walk in silence

When you walk through the door to your dorm Jake walks in behind you. It’s silent on his end, not a word coming from his mouth. He places his coat on your desk chair and sits on your bed on his phone. The vibe is off in the room that you can feel the tension seep in between the two of you. You don’t like it; you despise sitting in silence not knowing how to bring up what happened at the party. Taking a seat in front of him where your desk chair is you look at him until he looks up from his phone and at you.

Your arms are folded over each other on the back of the chair as you lay your chin over them. “Baby,” you say in a small pout. He hums in response his attention focused on his phone. This action only infuriates you. You tug on his arm and he looks up at you with an irritated expression his eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you why are you so mad?”

“I’m not mad, what are you talking about”

You stand and you can feel your blood start to boil. The atmosphere of the room makes you feel unsettled.

“What am I talking about? What the fuck are you talking about Jake? I’m not the one that has a problem here”

“Neither do I!” he shouts back at you. Now he’s starting to irritate you.

“You do, what the hell is bothering you so much that you’re yelling at me?!” The room starts to feel hot, and the feeling in your stomach makes you want to hurl. You don’t like fighting with Jake. You hate this feeling rising in your chest. You have never fought with Jake before. It would only be about small things like who left the sink on or who didn’t close the refrigerator door. 

“At the party,” finally you get an answer out of him. “Are you s out of this world to see that Jay was eyeing you all night and he was clearly flirting with you” What? What is he talking about? Yes, you saw him glance over to you for a second but you completely ignored him. It’s the first time fighting with him and it’s over something completely stupid. Was he jealous?

“No, I did not see him looking at me because I was solely focused on you the whole night. I’ve had my attention on you because why would I even bat an eye at him when I’m with you?! That doesn’t make any sense to me Jake” It takes you a while to figure out what was going on. Jake couldn’t let go of the fact that Jay was looking at you the whole night.

“Are you seriously jealous right now? I was trying to get along with your friends. Nothing even went on but a small conversation between two people and you’re seriously jealous,” The tone in your voice is raised and you can feel your blood boil up your skin. Jake turns and picks his jacket off your chair walking away from the conversation. You can practically see steam coming out from his ears.

“Look, I can’t do this right now. I need to get my stuff together before tomorrow.” he says

“Oh! So you’re walking out is what you’re doing. You’re not even willing to talk this out?” 

“Yes, I am. I cannot argue with you, my head is pounding and I just can’t deal with this. I need to leave” he says sternly

“Merry Christmas” he walks out the door leaving nothing behind. You can hear your heart shatter in your ears. The door slamming behind you, Jake walks out the door along with your heart.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” you say softly under your breath

When you see your family again you feel everything disappear from the night before for a moment. You haven’t spoke to Jake since he walked out on you last night. Not a single phone call or text from him. The feeling of no contact from him sets an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

The day after Christmas your sister, Mia, walks into your old room and takes a seat at the foot of your bed.

“What’s wrong?” you look up at her. Her face has a look of sorrow. You hadn’t been that obvious, had you? That fight shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did. You’ve only been going out for a little less than a month. So why do you feel so distraught?

“Nothing, why?” you respond to her.

“Well, you’ve been a little quiet since you came home a few days ago and you’ve been kind of down. Did something happen?”

It takes you a moment to collect your thoughts. Thinking back to the argument you and Jake had, you about the things that he said and you realize how stupid this whole argument is. Another thing you realize is that your family does not know that you have a boyfriend.

“Um, I haven’t told anyone yet because I know if I did Mom would freak the fuck out and make a whole scene about it and I’m trying to get away from drama at the moment.”

Mia furrows her brows in confusion and thinks about the things you’ve talked about since you got back.

“What did you not tell us?”

You’re laid on your side on your bed facing away from your sister you reply softly in a small voice “I have a boyfriend”. You say it in an almost whisper she almost doesn’t catch it the first time. “You have a what!”

Sitting up from your bed frantically you put a hand over her mouth and shush her. “Be quiet! I told you mom doesn’t know yet and I don’t wanna tell her until later”

A smile creeps up on her lips and she starts to scream. She quickly lowers her tone when she realizes just how loud she’s being. “Oh my God, what’s his name? How did you guys meet? How long have you been together? OH! Did you guys do it yet?”

Her constant questions get you to burst out laughing. You miss when you were able to tell her everything that goes on in your life. But that changed when you went off to college and she started working and started a family.

“Oh god, Mia, calm down please. I’ll tell you everything later. But right now I’m kinda in a rough situation.” You continue to explain the whole argument to your sister and she sits and listens to you.

“Is he a fucking idiot? Does he not trust you enough to know that you only have eyes for him? Look, if he doesn’t come up to you and try to resolve the issue between you two is he worth pining for? Is he worth your tears and your energy?” Before you can respond to her she cuts you off before you can get your first word out

“No, I didn’t think so. Think about it babe you’ve only been dating this guy for how long and he’s already messed up because of something stupid,” 

“I know, but what I feel for him is real. It’s so real to me that it scares me how much I care about him” You can feel tears well up behind your eyes. Thinking this deeply about your feelings toward Jake makes you realize how much of a constant he has become in your life. You don’t remember living life before you met him. And that scares you.

“I want this to work out for us. I’ve never felt this way for someone before. He makes me feel so happy,” This comes out in a small voice. You have never been this genuinely happy with someone before

A beat of silence passes as Mia tries to accumulate her words. She sighs and places a hand on your shoulder. “Babe, I just want what’s best for you, you know that. If you think waiting for him is the right thing to do, then wait. If he ever hurts you and makes you unhappy I swear to God call me and I’m bringing my ass down there to kick his” Laughing with tears in your eyes you pull her in for a tight hug.

“I will, I love you”

“I love you too, sis”

The drive back from the airport to your dorm was awful. Cars piling on the road from coming home from holiday ended in unbearable traffic. You had caught a cold from your niece and the weather didn’t help with your symptoms either. Sunoo offered to pick you up, but you declined his offer because Jake had said that he would be picking you up from the airport. Now you are starting to regret your decisions. You hadn’t heard from him in a while. Before the argument he had told you he was coming back the day before you. So, you had some hopes of meeting him when you first arrived home. But to your dismay, you were met with an empty drop-off area and baggage claim. You had to lug around your suitcases until you finally found an Uber driver.

When you reach your dorm, you’re met with a bouquet of magnolias lying next to your door. Dropping your bags on the floor you pick up the flowers in search of a note. It looks like it’s been here for a while. Some of the pedals are a bit wilted but still pretty, nonetheless. A small white piece of paper is found in the middle of the beautiful flowers. Putting your hand in to fetch it out you unravel it and read what was displayed.

My baby, I’m sorry for what happened before we parted. I was being immature, and I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry for ruining your Christmas and not checking up on you. Just know that I was thinking about you during the time we couldn’t spend together I just felt so guilty for the way I acted I felt I didn’t deserve to talk to you yet. I’m ready to talk whenever you want to

Please call or text me when you get these. I’m sorry.

-       Jake

The words written on the piece of paper pull on your heartstrings. You truly did miss him. He went through the trouble of buying you flowers and writing a note? Opening the front door to your dorm you pull your things in along with the flowers inside. Your heart nearly jumps from your chest when you hear rustling come from your desk. The body perks up and turns to face you. Jake had been sitting there since the day he came back from his hometown, waiting for you to come back home to him. He stands there taking in your presence. He had missed you, so much. Slowly walking over to you, not sure whether he’s allowed to touch you.

The tension between you seems to have dissipated from the time you’ve been apart. It’s quiet. Waiting for him to speak up. Waiting for him to apologize for what he’s done. Waiting for him. Dreading the days to see him again and reconcile your damaged feelings.  Finally, after what felt like hours but in reality were only a few seconds. Jake finally pulls you in bear hugging you tightly as if he hasn’t seen you in years. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. Oh, how he’s missed you. His arms tighten around your waist when you slowly bring your hands up to his shoulders.

“I missed you, love” he whispers into your cold skin. You sniffle due to your cold but also due to the tears you feel once again. The touch of his breath against your skin makes chills run up and down your body. You had been pining for him for days now. Finally, in the arms of your lover, you begin to feel a bit at ease. But you still felt uneasy not talking about the issue that has occurred between the two of you.

“I’ve missed you too,” you say in barely a whisper. He pulls away and he stays close to you. His hands are on your elbows, and he looks down at you. His brows slightly fall when he hears your nazely voice. He places his warm hand over your burning skin. “Did you catch a cold?” he says in a worried voice. Moving your hands, wrapping them around his wrist you calm down his worries. “Yes, but I’m fine. Nothing but hot soup will cure me” you say with a small smile on your face. 

After, getting changed into more comfortable and clean clothes Jake wraps you in your blanket on your bed and sits by your side as he nurses you back to health. 

“Did you see my note?” His head down in shame as he waits for your answer. You only nod your head in response. He’s playing with the sleeve of your sweater and looks back up at you again. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry I acted the way I did. I was being stupid, and I had alcohol in my system and I was thinking straight.’ It’s silent before you say anything. Thinking about what to say to his apology you look up at him and try to read his expression.

You could see the sorrow in his eyes; those cute puppy dog eyes that you’re so used to seeing everyday. He had a look of defeat on his features. You’ve never seen this side of him, this vulnerable side of him. Speaking up you say, “Jake that doesn’t give you the right to assume things about me. Do you not trust me?” he interrupts you in the middle of your speech. “I do trust you, my love. I just don’t trust him.”

“Baby, the only person you should be trusting is me, okay? I’m your girlfriend. I’m the one you should be trusting, not him. For us to work there needs to be trust between the both of us. If you can’t do that then there is no us.”

This makes his heartbeat pick up. Of course, he trusts you. But the way that Jay had kept his eyes on you the whole night just made him so angry that he started to blame you for reasons that he didn’t quite understand. He wants so badly for this to work out between you two. You’re impossibly the best thing that’s happened to him since he moved here.

Frantically, his grip on your sleeve becomes a bit tighter. Like he’s scared if he doesn’t hold on tight enough you’ll dissipate into thin air “I do trust you, baby, believe me I do. Okay. Can we please just forget this whole thing? Will you accept my apology? I miss you.” he moves his hands up from your wrist gently grazing your neck until they land on your cheeks. The look in his eye is now desperate. He needs you in his life, just like you he can’t recall living his life before he met you. He can’t screw up now. Finally, nodding your head he smiles that big smile that he always sports and pulls you in for a kiss.

Finally, things are back to the way they were for now.

Classes have started up again but thankfully your professors have taken it easy on you. The downside of this new schedule is that you haven’t gotten to spend as much time with Jake as you had before. With his schedule being completely different from yours you always manage to find time for him. He told you he was going to start being a better boyfriend for you ever since that fight. Often you would come home to takeout on your front door handle with a little note that he would write for you.

It was nice coming home to little things from him. The only times you got to spend time together was when he would come over when the both of you had a clear schedule. That time spent with him was your favorite.

Sitting at your desk, you hear keys jingle at your door. You gave Jake a spare key to your room whenever he felt like coming over, to save you the trouble of having to get up from your desk and answering the door yourself. At this point, he was living with you. He spent most of his time at your dorm while you were at classes and barely any time was spent at his. He had made your home his home. You would sometimes come home to him snuggled in your blanket asleep. Of course, Layla was cuddle next to him

You can hear his footsteps from behind you as you work on your laptop. Feeling his hands wrap around your shoulders and his face leaning into the side of yours, you can feel your heart rate pick up. Everything has gone so well between the two of you. It almost seems unreal.

He pecks you on your cheek and snuggles himself into your side.

“What are you doing, love”, turning your head to face him, you smile deeply at him and peck his lips. Moving your attention back to your laptop you reply back to him “Working on this midterm paper. Classes have been so hectic I barely have time to take a break.” Upon hearing this Jake reaches his hand over to the screen of your laptop and shuts it closed, you turn to him with a look of confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you a break” A small grin placed on his face, and he brings his face closer to yours. He places his soft lips against yours and moves in slowly. His hand is under your jaw caressing softly. He pulls away and looks into your wide eyes. “I’m gonna draw you a bath relax a bit baby you’ve been working hard for the past few weeks I haven’t seen you step away from your work once. How does that sound?” he tells you softly. “ You’re right, hmm. That sounds amazing thank you, baby”

He turns and makes his way to your bathroom. You hear the faucet of the bathtub begin to run. Jake’s phone was left next to where you were sitting and it’s only then that you hear it buzzing with a notification and your heart sinks for a moment. The name read ‘Amelia’ honestly, the only friends you have on campus are your best friends and Jake. You have never heard of this name before. Even in your lecture halls you have never once heard of this person. The name doesn’t ring a bell. But in order to also make a relationship work you need privacy, so that’s what you do. You ignore the constant buzzing of his phone and walk over to the bathroom where Jake is waiting for you

The sound of the water sloshing and the steaming bathroom make you feel warm inside. Jake’s sitting at the edge of the tub waiting for you to finish up in the other room. Your hand falls to the hem of your shirt and you slowly glide the fabric up your torso. Next, your sweats fall along with your panties. Jake sits as he watches you undress yourself. He can feel himself grow hard and his pants become unbearably tight. He suddenly stands up and takes long strides walking over to you. His hands land on your naked waist and you look up at him and bring your hands to the clasp of your bra. Finally undoing it Jake’s eyes fall to your soft breast. Nipples perking as your chest is hit with the slightly cold air in the room. You can see the drool fall from his lips.

“Why don’t you join me?” you raise a brow at him; teasing him. Immediately he tears his shirt and pants off as he guides you to the tub. Lifting his leg to get in first, he takes your hand softly and guides you on top of his lap. You can feel his hard cock against your thigh. His arms wrap around your middle, and you can feel his lift place soft kisses on your shoulder. His right arm manages to take hold of your tit and the other slowly glides down to where you need him the most.

His hand grazes your thigh and you shiver at the touch. The kiss on your neck makes you sigh out in lust. You have never needed him so badly; completely forgetting everything that’s happened in the last twenty minutes. Finally, his finger makes contact with your clit rubbing figure eights. Whimpering his name in a low breath makes him even more wired.

“Yeah, baby? You like that? Huh?” He says into your ear. Licking up to your jawline his plants kisses just beneath your ear and back down to your neck. The wet muscle circles as he sucks and bites with his teeth. Placing a love bite on your skin leaving a mark. His finger enters you slowly; you let out a low moan out of pleasure. His speed begins to pick up as he adds in another. Pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. His right arm moves across your chest, so your tits are pushed up against it.

 “Oh my god, Jake. You make me feel so fucking good” You moan into his ear. With that, he turns you so you’re facing him now. “Fuck I can’t. I need to be inside of you” His hand wraps around his cock. The tip is red and throbbing you can see his veins. Stroking it once, twice, he teases at your entrance. The sloshing of the water is the only sound heard in the bathroom from your squirming. Sliding his cock between your folds; you look down at where you connect and moan his name. “Please, I need you in me. Need you to cum in me, Jake, please” you beg for him.

At this, manhandling you so your turned to him. Chest against his and he finally enters you. The stretch of his cock has you whining from how good he feels. The feeling of him inside of you has you starstruck. You’ll never get used to the way it makes you feel. His hand finds the bottom of your ass and he moves you up slowly. Your hands wrap around his shoulders as you dig your face into his neck. “Move. Please” you plead into his burning skin

“If you say so,” he says in a teasing voice. He bounces you on his cock and he meets you halfway. You bite onto his shoulder to muffle your sounds. You get enough noise complaints from the students in the building, you don’t need another one. The pace is fast, and animalistic, you can feel him prod deeply into you. He can feel himself in your stomach. He brings your hand to where he can feel himself inside of you.

“You feel that baby? So fucking deep in you I can feel myself” Moaning louder you can feel the burn build up in your tummy. Your thighs begin to burn and your hold on his shoulders become tighter. You feel yourself cum all over his cock. And with three last thrusts, he paints your walls in white as he finishes inside of you.

Sitting in silence, catching your breaths and coming down from your highs his hold on your waist tightens as he lifts you from the tub and grabs a towel to clean you off. His cock softens inside of you; you moan at the loss of being connected to him. Jake walks you to the bed and lays you down. He places a small kiss on your neck and tells you, “I’ll be right back” You smile at him and watch him walk away. But you see him grab his phone and look at it.

The unfamiliar name drags you back to that feeling from earlier.

Heeseung was back from his trip, and he invited you over to catch up on recent events of each others lives. Being apart from your best friends made you realize how much you’ve missed them. You sat on the couch as he was getting something ready in the kitchen. “Hey, how was the trip?” you ask him. He walks back with a tray in his hand and places it in front of you. It was an assortment of snacks he had brought back from his hometown.

“It was good, Lina’s doing good. I haven’t seen her in so long I missed her so much.” Lina, Heeseung’s girlfriend of almost a year, they met through you. She had asked about your friend and wanted to know if he was single. You put them on a date and, bam, they’re in a long serious relationship! Simple as that. It’s good to hear that she’s doing good. You hadn’t seen her in so long.

“Ahh, I miss her too. I haven’t talked to her since the last time I saw her. That was probably before summer break this year.”

Heeseung changes the subject to you now. “So, what’s up with you? How’s your family? I know you haven’t seen them in a while either.”

“They’re great. I got to see baby Aria again. She’s grown so much and she's walking now” You smile thinking about your niece.

Your phone suddenly buzzes with a notification from Sunoo.

Sunoo: Hey, wya rn?

Me: At ur place why? Did something happen?

Sunoo: Meet me at the café in 5 min

The serious texts makes your heart beat pick up. What happened? Did something happen to him?  You look up to Heeseung and his focus is on the TV now. “Hee, I gotta go. Sunoo said he needs me for something” you tell him.

“Oh okay, what happened” He watches as you rise from your seat and collect you things to leave. 

“I don’t know he won’t tell me. I’ll talk to you later” bending down to peck his cheek you place your bag over your shoulder and leave through the door. Hoping nothing bad has happened to your friend

After almost crashing a dozen times you make your way to the entrance of the café. Sunoo is sitting at one of the tables in the back waiting for you. He has a drink next to him and your usual next to the seat that’s supposed to be yours.

“Hey,” you greet him. He looks up at you with a look you can’t explain.

“So are you gonna explain to me what’s going on or what, your text earlier scared the shit out of me and I’m still a little on edge so can you please hurry and explain what the hell is going on” you say with a faux small on your face

“Hey, I’m sorry if I freaked you out but I need to tell you something.” He pulls his phone out from his back pocket and shows you a picture. You can feel your heart stop to your stomach. The color completely drains from your face as your shaky hands reach out to take ahold of his phone.

Displayed on the screen is a picture of Jake, with his hand on a girl’s waist, and they seem close to each other. You scroll, and there’s yet another picture of them. He’s smiling at her, and his face is close to hers nearly lips touching. The tears that swell in your eyes threaten to spill out. You can barely make out words to say. Completely in shock of what you see. It’s your boyfriend and a girl that isn’t you in his arms. You want to scream at the world for being so blind to this. You want so badly to hit something. You need to get out of here

There’s no way. He said that he was going to be better, and he said that he wanted to make this work. How could he betray you like this?

You stand from your seat abruptly making the chair squeak against the floor. Eyes fall on you as you quickly grab your things.

“Sunoo, I need to go,” you say in a small voice. He nods in understanding, and you rush towards your car. You look down at your phone and see his name pop up on your screen. ‘Hey baby wya? I miss you.’ the text reads. This only makes you angrier. You need to calm down before you crash and get into an accident.

The next thing you know your at his apartment complex. You walk up the stairs and storm into his living space. Jake jolts in surprise and looks at you. Fiery in your eyes you make your way to him and push at his shoulders, hard. “How could you? You said you were going to be better. You said that you wanted this to work” You pushed him again. “Why would you do this to me?” your lungs begin to burn from the constant yelling. Pushing him after each word your tears falling from your eyes. The pounding of your heart is heard in your ears. You’re screaming at the top of his lungs waiting for him to explain.

“Baby, what are you talking about?” He takes hold of your wrist trying to calm you down. Again, pushing him away you retaliate and keep your distance from him. His act only pushes you to the edge “I saw the pictures, Jake. I’m not fucking stupid” He can feel his heart drop when he finally realizes what you’re talking about. “I can explain”

“No, what is there to explain? I could see how close you were to her and the way you held her. You’re supposed to hold me like that. Not anyone else!” you yell at him. Hurt and anger are laced in your voice. “I need to get out of here,” you say in a quiet tone. Digging your hands in your hair, frustrated with yourself, with Jake. He tries to reach out to you, but you only push him away.

“Don’t touch me,” Pushing him back harder he stumbles back. You make your way to the door and walk back to your car. It’s silent. Unleashing the pent-up emotions inside of you; you sob into your hands. Your head begins to ache because of how much you cry. Your head hits against the wheel as you begin to shake from anger. You’ve never hurt this much. All your love was wasted into something, someone that wasn’t willing to give you that same love back.

The feeling of your phone buzzing in your pocket grabs your attention. Lifting your head you pat your pockets searching for the device you turn the screen over to read the name of the incoming voice call. “__?” 

“Sunoo” you sob his name out 

“Can I come over?”

It’s been a few weeks since you last spoke to Jake. Your phone has been blowing up with texts and calls from him. Telling you how sorry he is; that he  needs to talk to you and that he messed up. You can’t bear the thought of talking to him face to face. Thinking about him hearts you as much as he already has. Sunoo and Heeseung drop in every other day, taking turns to make sure you were okay and you were eating properly. It hasn’t gotten easier, but you still managed to get out of bed and get to class.

As usual, you almost end up falling asleep in class from the sleepless nights. It’s not until you feel a tap on your shoulder that you perk up. Turning around you met face-to-face with a familiar face. Jay? Was that his name? You can’t be bothr to remember the face of the one person that started the argument between you and your ex-boyfriend. His chin is lying on his arms resting on the back of your chair. “Hey,” he says in a whisper, trying to keep his voice low. Rolling your eyes you look away and try to focus your attention back on the lesson. Without realizing the time class was over. 

Heavy footsteps could be heard from behind you. Jay appears on your side and he places a hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong? Did something happen between you and your boyfriend” Looking at his face makes you feel disgusted. Only reminding you of one of the worse times in your relationship. 

“Hey, hey, hey” placing his hands in front of you to stop you in your tracks. From the corner of his eye, he can see Jake, throwing daggers at him. Jay looks down at you and pulls you in. His lips barely touch you before you shove him away. “What the fuck, Jay?!” Before Jay could look back to see Jake, he had already fled. “What? It’s not bad to switch it up sometimes. Plus I heard that you’re not with Jake anymore. You know, moving on is a natural thing to do after you break up with someone” he says with a smug look on his face. “Fuck off asshole” 

Shoving his shoulder as you walk past him. Tears start to stream down your eyes as you pick up your steps through the halls to make it to the library. You had a shift today after school. When you walk through the door you half expect Jake to be there. Seeing his usual seat empty your hopes are crushed. You forget why you’re even in the situation that you are in with him for a moment. Everything begins to come rushing back. The girl texting him things a girl shouldn’t be texting a guy in a relationship. You can’t even begin to see him the same way you used to see him. 

Pushing everything to the back of your head you sit down and wait for people to come up to the desk and help them out. Hours after your shift started Jake walks through the doors, with a neutral look on his face. Not with that usual happy look on his face radiating joy. You haven’t communicated in any way for weeks. He walks over to his usual spot. He only looks at you for a split second before he looks over to the manager, fixing the used books on a cart. 

“Hey, um, Jungha, can I talk to you for a second?” With a shake of his head, he motions his head to follow him to the door behind the desk. Following him with your eyes, you begin to wonder when your shift ends. Being stuck here with him for the next two hours is going to be hell. You called in sick for about two weeks. Jungha was nice enough about it and let you off and give yourself some time to heal. About 15 minutes later, Jake walks out of the room but he doesn’t stop at his usual chair next to you, no, he walks to the door and leaves. What? Did he take the day off or something? You shouldn’t care about what he’s doing with his life, but you do. How can you not? You were in love with him. You still are. Holding back your tears you turn your attention back to your work. Your phone vibrates next to you, Sunoo texts you asking if you want to come over. You look over at the clock and realize just how much time has passed. Your shift was ending in a few minutes. Texting Sunoo back, you collect your things and shut down a bit earlier today. You walk out the door and call Sunoo to tell him you’re on your way.

Jake hadn’t come into work for the last couple of days. You had secretly been waiting for him to walk through the door but his cute puppy dog-like eyes haven’t made their appearance yet. Lazing around at your desk with your head held in your head and making little doodles on the piece of paper in front of you. Jungha catches sight of your dull expression and he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“I need to tell you something.” This gets you to perk up. Did something happen to him? “Uh, I know that you guys were together and he told me not to say anything to you but you were going to eventually figure out eventually why he isn’t here anymore.” he pauses. 

“The reason why he wanted to talk the other day was because,” he takes the seat next to you and looks down at his hands. “He said that he wanted to quit. He couldn’t sit here for hours knowing that you guys wouldn’t talk. And just to let you know these are his words not mine. He also said he couldn’t stand the fact that he wouldn’t enjoy being here knowing that you were angry with him.” All this new information brings new emotions. Did he quit because of you? If anything it should have been you who should have quit. 

“Oh” is all you say. What else are you supposed to say? You don’t want to seem pathetic for crying over your ex-boyfriend in front of your manager, that would be too embarrassing for your own good. You shake your head and get back to drawing your little doodles. Trying to distract yourself the best you could. You couldn't handle the thought of not seeing Jake anymore at work. Not seeing him at all.

At the end of your shift, you make your way to Sunoo and Heeseung’s place. You can’t bear the thought of being alone for the night; you need the comfort of your best friends. You open the door with one of the spare keys they had given you when they first bought the place. To Heeseung’s surprise, you make your way over to him on the couch and plop yourself down face-first on the other couch. “Hey,” he says with his furrowed brows. Placing a gentle hand to the back of your head.

“You okay?” Sitting up properly you shake your head. After hearing all the noise from the living room Sunoo emerges from his room and finds you sitting on his couch. “I don’t remember inviting you over” He says in a joking manner. You look over to the voice of your best friend. “Stop acting like you don’t love having me over” He rolls his eyes and walks to the kitchen to grab a snack. 

“How do you feel today? You look even more down than you do most days. Did something happen?” He speaks from behind the fridge. You wait for him to turn the corner so you don’t have to yell. You don’t want them to get a noise complaint because of the shouting. “Jake quit at the library because of me,” you say blankly. Some silence passes and Sunoo shoots from his seat on the couch. “Is he out of his goddamn mind? Why did he quit? It should have been you who should have quit not the other way around. What the hell? He wants to die because I swear to God the last thing he’ll see is my fist in his face” 

Looking at him with your jaw slack after the long rant you just witnessed. “What the hell are you looking at? I’m being so real right now. What makes him think he needs the time away from you after what he did to you,” The room goes silent. The only sound reverberating through the room is the TV playing the back. Heeseung sits watching the scene, completely in awe of the way that Sunoo is acting. And then out of the silence, Heeseung bursts out laughing. Then you’re in tears of laughter. Sunoo looks at the two of you like you’re the ones that are crazy. “Look I’m just stating facts if he wants to be a little pussy then he can be one but I won’t have my best friend looking dumb because of some guy that she met not that long ago.” This catches you off guard. Sure Sunoo never genuinely liked Jake.

But he tried his best for you. Because he wanted what was best for you. But this was drawing the line. “What are you talking about Sunoo? Do you have any idea how happy I was when I was with him?” you begin to argue. The laughter has far died down. “Yes, I understand that but look at the condition he left you in,” he exclaims. “For fucks sake you had to take two weeks off of work because of that asshole. You weren’t eating properly, fuck you weren’t even taking proper care of youself” You’re left speechless. You want to believe that there is still something there. Even after everything that’s happened, you still have hope. “Maybe I should just talk to him about it because he never even gave me an explanation because I walked away” Raising from your seat you walk towards the door.

“I just want what’s best for you” Sunoo speaks from behind you. “I need you to completely understand what you’re getting yourself into. I don’t want you to walk into a toxic factory and get yourself stuck in something you can’t get yourself out of” This tugs at your heart. You know that Sunoo talks from his heart, he’s only looking out for you. 

“I love you so much Sunoo, but I know if I don’t do this and get the closure I need I’ll eventually lose my mind” The only thing he can do now is shake his head. “Okay, if anything happens call me” His steps are slow and he takes you in his arms for a tight hug. You shake your head and agree to call him. You wave at Heeseung and make your way out of their dorm. 

Your next destination is your ex-boyfriend. 

Jake was lying on his bed scrolling through new job listings. He needs to somehow find a way to provide for himself. A soft knock is heard from the front door. It was nearing almost midnight, he furrows his brows and pushes himself off his bed. Who could be knocking at his door at this hour? There, you stand with a confident look on your face, hair wet from the pouring rain. “__?” You can see his tired eyes his phone clutched in his hand. “What the hell are you doing here” the anger in his voice brews confusion in your head. 

“I need talk to you” you say in a stern voice 

“There’s nothing to talk about. I need you to leave” He slowly begins to close the door in your face but you refuse. Moving your hand forward you place in front of the door. Your legs have a mind of it’s own as you push past him into his apartment.

“What are you doing? There’s nothing to talk about” 

“There’s everything to talk about Jake,” you exclaim. How can he say this? Your phone has non-stop buzzing with notifications from him for the past few weeks and now that you are here there’s absolutely nothing you can talk about? Now you’re confused. 

“I came here to talk to you about that fucking girl in your phone. Who the fuck is that, Jake?” He runs his hands through his messy hair and begins pacing around the small living room. You can start to feel that sharp feeling in your chest. You start to stress over the fact that he hasn’t begun to explain himself at all. 

“Fucking answer me Jake, who is that” Tears begin to form in your eyes again. 

“You’ve been begging me to call and text you back. Now that I’m here, standing in front of you, ready to talk, you’re silent now. Now answer me who is that girl?” The built up tears are now streaming down your face. You begin to feel frustrated with him. With yourself for not being able to communicate how you felt all those weeks ago 

This gets him to start talking. His eyes widen at the thought of never being in contact with you. He cannot begin to think about life without you. 

“Okay! Okay, she’s this girl that I met over break while I was away in Australia. We were broken up–” 

“We were not broken up Jake, we were in the middle of an argument and we were heated. We never broke up or even said the words ‘break up’. Just because we were in an argument means that we’ve broken up? That’s not how relationships work. Not with me” 

He stands there, only staring at you, trying to process the words that slipped from your lips. Angry tears slide down your cheeks.

“Okay,” he says in a low voice. This somehow fuels the anger you already feel. The single word only infuriating you further

“That’s all you have to say? ‘Okay’?” Your voice begins to raise. “You are so pathetic” you say in a low voice. Turning in your spot you make your way over to the door to leave. Before you could reach the handle his hand grips your wrist and pulls you towards him. His soft hand lays on your cheek, his lips land on yours. Then, you feel something wet on your cheek. He’s… crying? Your lips move softly against his. All of these strong emotions make you sob against him. 

He pulls away and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m tired of fighting with you. I swear I didn’t do anything with her. We just talked and that’s it. I would never hurt you in any way.” 

You fail to believe a word he says. “You wouldn’t have hurt me if you’d have understood our situation during that argument. You wouldn’t have hurt me if you just kept to yourself and hadn’t talked to her,” you say against his lips softly. You pause before you begin again. 

“You wouldn’t have hurt me if you would have just trusted me, Jake.” 

He leans in a kisses you again. He makes his way down to your neck and sobs. “I’m sorry, honey. Please, please, please forgive me. I’ll never hurt you I promise. I can’t live without you. I need you” His words are intoxicating. Something about him always seems to pull you in. And you can never escape him. His hands find their way under your shirt and land on your waist. He pushes you against the wall and he lifts your shirt from your body. 

Then your bra is off. The cold air that hits your perked nipples makes you whine. You wrap your hands around his neck. Your fingers find home in his messy hair and you tug as he sucks on your bottom lip. He lifts you off the ground and carries you to his bedroom. Slowly, he lays you down on his soft bed. From the hem of his shirt, he lifts it over his head. His abs are out on display. He finally leans down and takes your nipple into his mouth. Gasping from the pleasure. His hands fall to the waistband of your jeans. 

He pulls them down along with your panties. His fingers find purchase on your clit. Moving in small circles. You moan into his mouth and this turns him on even more. “Let me make you feel good. You deserve the most out of everyone. Let me show how sorry I am, baby” 

Kissing down your stomach he places small kisses over your pelvis. His lips hover over your clit. His breath hits your cunt. Whimpers fill the quiet room. The first touch of his tongue sliding through your folds. “Agh, Jake” He wraps his arms around your thigh pulling you closer to him. Your right hand digs into his hair, tugging. 

The vibrations of his moan send shivers throughout your body. Your other hand tugs at your nipples. Pushing yourself up from the bed and looking down at him. The sloppy sounds reverberate in the small room. You can feel your juices slipping down from your pussy. His thumb presses harsh circles over your clit. “Yes, yes, yes!!” 

His sweats begin to feel uncomfortably tight. Moving against the bed to relieve himself. Palming himself through his pants. He moves to plant wet kisses against your thighs, making his way up. Face to face with him now, he rubs his nose softly against yours. Smiling against your cheek, he moves his finger to your red and swollen cunt sliding through your folds. His finger finds your entrance, slowly sliding in. 

You gasp against his mouth. Pulling him in to taste yourself on his tongue. “Yeah? You like that? Am I making you feel good, love?” 

“Mmmh, yeah, you always make me feel good” wrapping your arm around him and playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He leans down to capture your lips, teeth clashing together, his tongue tasting you. His pace begins to pick up. You start to feel that burning sensation in your lower belly again. He knows when you’re about to finish. “Gonna cum on my fingers? Go on, show me how good I make you feel” he says in a low voice. The rapid rolling of his thumb on your clit tips you over the edge. 

Jake pulls his fingers to his lips, wrapping them around his digits. “You taste so good. Just as sweet as I remember” Looking up at him, you desire something more from him. “Fuck me” This gets him wild. Standing to quickly pull his pants along with his boxer off. His hard cock hits his lower abdomen. You drool at the sight. Reaching out to take him into your grip. “Wanna suck my cock? Hmm?” 

Looking up at him with a sultry look in your eyes “I want you to fuck me, Jake” you say in a soft voice. Smiling down at you he pushes you on your back, his bog body hovering over you. “I’ll do whatever you ask me to,” Taking his hard-on in his hand, giving himself a few strokes before rubbing himself against your spent cunt. “Fuck, oh my God” your eyes roll to the back of your head when he slowly lowers himself to you. Connecting your lips. 

Entering you, taking his time with you. Sliding his hand into yours, grasping yours pushing it to the side of your head. His pace starts slow, and passionate, he’s sticking to his word about taking his time with you. “Faster” you whisper in his ear. His soft lips grazed your cheek, his breath hitting your ear. He places his hands on your waist and turns you onto your stomach. 

Wrapping his arms around your front to hold you up. Quickly stroking himself, then entering you again. “C’mon baby, come for me. I know you can” The pleasure becoming too much with his pace. He’s fucking you hard, sloppy, messy, just like you asked. It all becomes overwhelming and you finally come all over his cock. Heavy breathing and panting fill the room once again. 

After some seconds of catching your breath, you lie on your back, and Jake finds comfort on your chest. Staring at the ceiling everything starts to come back to you. The fight that lead you to this point. You realize that you didn’t do what you came here to do. Softly stroking his hair you speak up in the silence that you're left in. “Jake” you call out for his name. He moves his head to look up at you, humming in response. “What’s going on between us?” You’re left unanswered for a while. To be honest, you aren’t sure what you’re doing here, lying in his bed. Inhaling deeply he rises from your body and walks over to his bathroom. 

He comes back with a wet towel in his hand and walks back to your lying figure on his bed. Gently parting your legs he wipes down your swollen cunt, being careful. You twitch slightly from the sensitivity. “I want us to be okay” he finally says. “I don’t like fighting with you. It breaks my heart knowing that I put you through hell and I’m not there to help fix it” throwing the towel into the basket next to his desk. 

“If you want this to work,” you look at him. He stares at you waiting to hear the key to win your heart over again. “I want you to trust me. And you need to prove to me that I can trust you” you say sitting up and pulling his shirt over your head to cover yourself. Nodding immediately he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, tightly. “Okay, I promise. I promise I’ll never put you through that again. I promise I’ll do everything I can to prove to you that I care for you, so much.” Only looking at him as he speaks. 

“Baby” Jake has been spending most of his time at your place. Barely spending any time in his own home. You don’t see it as a burden, but you do feel like he’s only doing it to make up for his past actions. “Let me take you out,” He says as he lays on your chest, pulling your hands to run through his soft hair. “Okay, what do you want to do” looking down softly at his face. His hands hug tightly around your waist as he digs his face into your soft stomach.

“There’s a carnival downtown. We can go there, if you want” He waits patiently for your answer looking up at your face, glowing in the sunlight peeking through the blinds. “Yeah, we can go there” you agree. Jake excitedly pushes off the bed and walks over to the drawer where he has kept some of his clothes. 

After the both of you finish getting ready you walk out of your dorm and walk down the steps. Hand in hand you begin your journey into town. Everything in your town is within walking distance, something you loved about it when you moved here. It was midday and shops were busy, everyone hustling to get everything they needed for the upcoming holiday. Being even more busy with the carnival in town. 

A flower shop catches your eye, letting go of Jake’s hand you’re drawn to the pretty flowers of spring. When you walk into the shop you are instantly hit with the smell of flowers. Racks are filled with lively green plants, some tilting over their pots from being overgrown. This is one thing you will forever cherish in life. The life of growing plants. How they always manage to come back to life even after not being properly taken care of. The strength they have to keep going

While you were away admiring the beauty of the flowers you’re surrounded by, Jake walks up behind you. Placing a hand on the small of your back, he pulls from behind his back a small bouquet of magnolias. He must have bought them while you were distracted. Turning in his arms you wrap yours around his neck pulling him in closer to you. “Thank you, they’re beautiful” He places a small peck on the juncture of your neck. “Of course, baby. They’re beautiful, aren’t they? They always remind me of you” 

Your lips form a small pout. Standing on your tip toes to place a delicate kiss on his lips. Sometimes his compliments only causes your heart to stop beating for a moment. Walking out of the flower shop you notice the sun beginning to set behind the busy town. “The carnival should be starting soon, we should get there now before it starts to get crowded.” He tightens his grip on your hand, making sure you don’t get lost in the crowd of people and guides you to the noisiest part of town. 

The lights of the lively carnival glow brightly in your eyes. Hand clutching Jake’s in excitement, he looks down and smiles brightly back at you as you walk ahead of him. Impatiently running towards the game booths you pull him by your side, a way of telling him to hurry his slow pace. “Hello! Come on up and win a prize. Two balloons will get you this teddy bear,” The booth worker pulls out a small teddy plush from behind the counter, “Or~ Pop six balloons to win this plush!” he says with much enthusiasm. The man points to a bunny plush hung above the other small prizes. Jake steps before you and pulls out a ticket he had stored in his wallet. “How much?” Digging through the pockets he takes a few out to hand to the man. You watch as they exchange items, Jake holds ten darts in his hand and watches his aim. Throwing one of them, the loud pop of the balloon makes you jump slightly. 

He goes on to throw another and another, until he gets down to his last dart. He misses, but he still manages to pop five balloons. “Congratulations! You’ve won yourself one of our small prizes, if you’d like to give it another go please come forward” Jake reaches his hand out for the small teddy bear and politely declines the man’s offer. He turns around to you, pushing the small plush into your arms. Looking down at the plush and up to him, he watches as a small smile grows on your lips. He wishes he could capture this moment and paste it into his head for the rest of eternity. Your illuminated features make him go crazy, making him experience feelings he’s never felt before. 

Before he could say anything to you, you pushed off your heels to kiss his soft lips lovingly. “Thank you, baby” Grabbing his hand again you proceed to look around at the carnival. Lights are strung along different booths, the sound of children laughing can be heard all around, and the warmth in your chest begins to bloom. Feeling that warmth radiate off of you, dispersing among the many young souls surrounding you. Tugging Jake closer to you, once again pulling him with you, you point at the ferris wheel gesturing to the ride.

He agrees and lets you drag him towards the spinning wheel. The operator opens the door for you when the wheel comes to a stop. Jake steps in first and grabs your head to help you in. The ride begins to move again, the cold wind blowing through your flowing hair brings chills up your arms. Goosebumps appear up and down your arms. “Are you cold? Here,” he moves forward to take his jacket off and places it around your shoulders. The fabric engulfs you from how big it is compared to when it was wrapped around Jake’s body. “Thank you” tugging it closer to you. 

The wheel stops at the very top; the view is breathtaking. But something else catches Jake’s attention, the way you look out over the town. The lights of the buildings of the town make it seem more alive. Something about that makes you feel content with where you are now in life. Moving forward for once instead of back. Turning your head to look at Jake again you find him already staring at you; admiring you. Your face falls into the palms of your hands as your cheeks turn red from embarrassment. “What?” he laughs. Moving his hands to pry your hands away from your face. 

Peeking through your fingers you see his radiating smile. A soft giggle makes its way out of your mouth as you look at the adorable sparkle in his eyes. “Nothing, I just got shy” This gets him to laugh, pulling your cold hands into his warm ones on his lap. “There is nothing to be shy about, baby. It’s just me” Looking into his deep brown eyes, butterflies erupt in your belly. “That’s why,” you say. He looks at you with confusion written on his face. Your hands hold on to him just a little bit tighter. “Because it’s you Jake. You make me feel so many different things at once sometimes I refuse to believe that you’re real to me” laughing slightly. Jake still has no idea where this is coming from. 

“I love you, Jake,” you say under your breath. The look in your eyes is close to pleading. Waiting for him to say it back. He only looks into your eyes until the ride comes back to life the grip you have on his jacket only becomes tighter than before. Your knuckles are white and crescent moons are indented into your skin by your nails. The ride stops at the bottom and the worker opens the door for you once again. You stay there for a moment until you realize that you are holding up the line. Thankfully, the worker was patient and still waited for you to exit the cart. 

You can hear your heart pumping at a rapid speed in your ears. Throwing the jacket off of your shoulder you flee from the cart. Leaving Jake, by himself in utter silence. He feels frozen in his spot, not able to move. “Sir? We have other people waiting” Snapping out of his daze he collects his things and leaves, completely left in distraught.

Running, you can barely see. Your eyes clouded with tears, streaming down your face. You needed to get out of there. Tripping over a small rock you hiss out in pain. Looking down at your scraped knee you you cradle it in hopes of making it feel better. But you know it will do nothing. Nothing hurts more than how you feel right now. 

He didn’t say it back. 

He didn’t say it back 

He didn’t say it back 

Like a broken record, it repeats in your head. Jake doesn’t love you back. And there’s completely nothing that you could do about it. 

It’s been weeks since the carnival, and you haven’t heard anything from Jake since then. Not a text, not a phone call, not even a note. It’s like a never-ending cycle, just like Sunoo said. You can’t seem to find a way to escape it. Just like the last time you hide yourself away from the world. But only this time it’s worse. Your phone has been buzzing with notifications but from the person you’ve been pining for the most. Sunoo can’t help but be worried about you. 

He’s been calling every day but he can’t get a hold of you. Avoiding your phone is the best option for now. Distancing yourself from anyone who has a connection with Jake is in your best interest. You can’t risk bumping into him, just the thought of his face further hurts your aching heart. Standing up from your bed you walk over to the kitchen to eat a somewhat decent meal. You’ve been rotting away in your bed for days now, being productive for just one day would be a step forward in healing. 

“I don’t know what to do” The small cafe is close to empty, with only a few people sitting at tables scattered across the area, it’s well early into the morning for anyone to be out and about. Jake’s hands are connected to the top of the small table. One of his many friends, Sunghoon, is sitting across from him. Receiving a call from Jake he woke up bright and early to help his friend deal with what he considered ‘a major crisis’. “Well, do you love her?” The question is simple. But Jake can’t help but dwell on it for a minute too long. “I don’t know” Staring into the table as if his answer would show if he looked just a bit harder. Sunghoon sighs out of frustration, Jake has been a complete mess ever since you told him you loved him. Stuck in his own head, guilty, frustrated, regret spiraling through his body. You don’t deserve any of this. You deserve much more than what he has to offer. Malicious thoughts consumed his head. 

“I think you should talk to her, man” Sunghoon finally speaks up in the quiet space. “She deserves closure, at the very least tell her how you feel for her. You can’t leave her hanging like that, I know that it’s crushing you from the inside that you can’t talk to her,” He’s right. He knows that he’s right. He hasn’t even tried to reach out to you in the weeks passing. “I know, I just can’t bring myself to face her knowing how much I’ve hurt her” 

“Take a chance, talk to her.” After a few minutes of thinking, Jake nods his head. “I’ll see you later Hoon,” Before he could turn to leave he looks back to Sunghoon. “And thank you” Giving a tight lipped smile and a slight nod of his head he says “Anytime” The jingle of the bell on top of the door rings. Jake determined to talk to you and fix whatever he caused. 

Loud banging resounds through your dorm as you were about to curl up in your blanket. “Go away Sunoo,” you yell in hopes of ridding him from your door. “Let me in” Your heart drops when you hear that familiar accent you were used to hearing all those weeks ago. Immediately shooting from your bed you grab your sweater and slowly walk over to the door. Watching your hand reach for the doorknob as if you were put into slow motion. Turning the handle, you look through the small crack of the door. Sad eyes meet yours. 

The door now fully opened, Jake’s tall figure towers over yours. Eyes pleading you to let him in. “Hi,” comes from his mouth, the same coming from yours. “Can I please come in?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and slight anger. “Why? There’s no reason for us to be together, not anymore” You begin to close the door but he arm comes out to stop you. 

“Please, __. I need to talk to you” The tone in his voice is desperate. Reluctantly you agree, stepping to the side you watch him walk past you into your living room closing the door and following behind him. It’s silent for sometime, arms crossing over your chest you grow impatient. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk. If not I’d really like for you to leave-”

“I’m sorry” Finally, after what felt like an eternity he speaks up. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you. I am so sorry I’ve hurt you in so many ways you and I’ve been nothing but shit to you” his voice breaks. A burning sensation builds up behind your eyes. Swallowing thickly he continues “You deserve nothing but love in this world and I can’t give you that. I’m messed up,” roughly pointing to his head. Tears streaming down his face. “I want to give you all the things that you deserve but I can’t do that because I don’t know how,” You flinch at his rising tone. You stand still, all you can do is listen to him. 

“I want so much for us to work, baby but I-” He holds his hands out. Pleading for you to reach out to him. Quickly, taking a step forward you pull him into your arms. Your tears fall over him as he tightens his grip on you. “Shh, it’s okay. I can help you, but I need you to let me help you” you say calmly into his ears. Your shirt dampens as he sobs. His hands clutching onto you as if you’d disappear. 

“Let me help you”

Separating from your body he looks at you. Sadness seeps from his eyes, and sniffles are the only thing heard in the small living room. “Let me love you, and when you’re ready you can do the same” Searching for anything, you hold his face and bring him down to your lips. Kissing his lips softly you pull away and lean your forehead against his. Sending him a loving look you look into his eyes, “Will you let me?” Nodding against you, you pull him in and he stuffs his face into the crook of your neck, softly kissing the skin there. 

The sun is shining out in the warm summer air. Jake wanted to take you out once more before he had to head back to Brisbane. He had been planning to spend a few weeks there during the summer. Talking about those plans bring you back when you and him were in bed, hot skin against each other. Relishing in one another “I promise I’ll take you there, one day. You can meet everyone. My parents have been dying to meet you, you know,” Smiling at him his eyes seemed to be focused on your hands playing with his. “I’d like that” you say with a small giggle. 

You wish for that day to come soon, but you will just have to wait. Right now, you want to focus on the last remaining time you have left with your boyfriend before he’s off boarding a plane and wishing him a safe flight. That’s something for you to think about in the future. But this is now, he’s brought you back to the very first date he took you on. The magnolia forest, it looks much different than how it did in the winter. They look much more lively, swaying the slight breeze mother nature is kind enough to give them. 

You both stop at the bench that brings you bittersweet memories. Sitting down, taking in the fresh air of summer, Jake watches you as if you’re some goddess sent down from heaven. Feeling his stare on you, you turn your head to catch him in the act. “What?” a smile appearing on your beautiful face. “What? I can’t stare at my girlfriend that I won’t be able to see in a few weeks? I need to take in how beautiful you are in person. I mean, I’ll only be able to see this pretty face over a screen,” he glides his hand down your cheek resting it on the nape of your neck. 

“Ugh, don’t even remind me. I’m gonna miss you so much” pouting at him. He laughs at your adorable face and leans in to place a peck on your pouting lips. “I’m gonna miss you too, baby. More than anything” You can see a sparkle glow in his eyes as he scans over you face. Leaning in once again to kiss him. But this time, the kiss is full of passion, love. Pulling back your faces inches apart, you sigh as you open your eyes again to face your lover. 

“I love you” Your breath hitches in your throat. The biggest smile grows over your features. The foreign words escape his mouth, smiling proud of himself to express his unconditional love for you. “What did you say?” you sit up from your slouched position on the bench and turn your body to completely face. “I said I love you __, so much”  Throwing your body as him you smash your lips against his. He can feel a smile grown against his lips. 

Finally, words are written on paper. This is your beginning

#sim jaeyun #jake sim #enhypen jake #enhypen fic #enhypen angst #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen #jake fic #jaeyun fluff #enhypen jaeyun #jaeyun smut #jaeyun angst #jaeyun imagines

[ohbo-ohno]

lamb to the slaughter

summary: Recently injured, discharged, and desperate for money, Johnny manages to find a job at a local prison by calling in a favor. What seems like just the blessing he needs to get himself back on his feet quickly becomes his worst nightmare when one of the prisoners fixates on him in the worst way possible. (or: dark ghoap prison au. mind the tags!)

word count: 26.3k

cw: GRAPHIC NONCON SEX, trans soap, victim blaming, transphobia, watersports, forced feminization, drugged sex, use of the word "faggot" during sex, prisoner ghost/prison guard soap

author's note: many many endless thanks to ceilidh, who served this plot on a silver platter to me when i was complaining pathetcially about being incapable of thinking. also lumi for listening to me scream ily <3 two quick disclaimers: (1) i do not know how prisons work, and i did not google anything about them for this fic bc i knew i’d get bogged down in research lmaoo. this fic goes by my rules, which means everything that happens works for plot convenience and not by any real world logic. (2) this plot is held together by duct tape and sex scenes, pls do not come here looking for a rich story

read on ao3 - see the pinterest board

The man in front of Johnny is familiar. Not because they’ve met before, but because he’d spent nearly a decade surrounded by men just like Herschel Shepherd - tall, broad, commanding assholes like him had been his least favorite part of being enlisted.

Johnny spent his entire military career being doubted and underestimated by mirror images of the man in front of him. He sees the doubt now in the way Shepherd looks at him, the way his eyes linger on Johnny’s middle and the quick expression of shock when he’d walked in the door and stood eye-level with the ex-General. 

It makes him want to let his lip curl, to bite out something insulting, but this is his only worthwhile job prospect so he holds his tongue and shifts in the uncomfortable chair set in front of the dark wood desk.

“Well,” Shepherd sighs, folding his hands over his stomach and leaning back in his seat. His shirt is tugged tight over his abdomen, almost pulled out from where it’s tucked in his pants. Johnny wonders if he’ll try and get in shape again when he realizes, or if he’ll fully let himself go and embrace the beer-belly he’s halfway to. “I’ll be honest with you, MacTavish - if you didn’t come highly recommended, I wouldn’t consider you for a second.”

Johnny barely keeps from snorting. That’s certainly an interesting way to say if I didn’t owe John Price a near unrepayable favor I’d laugh you out of the building .

“I know, sir.”

“We’ve never hired someone with your…” Shepherd pauses, bites his tongue like he’s tasting something nasty. “ Condition .”

Johnny resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I know, sir.”

Shepherd looks like he wants to say something about Johnny’s tone, and he probably would have were they still in the military. But in the concrete walls of his office, he only sighs and sits forward, forehead creasing. “I suppose you’re lucky you’re so tall. The inmates might not even notice.”

Johnny wants to say obviously, you wanker, I’ve been injecting hormones into myself for over a decade and I’m taller than you are .But he can’t say that, or anything like it. The fact of the matter is that it doesn’t matter how tall he is, or how long he’s been on testosterone, or how muscular he is - because Shepherd already knows what he was born as, and nothing else will matter to a man stuck so firmly in the past.

That had been one of the only things Johnny was looking forward to outside of the military - the chance to meet people who didn’t know he was transgender before he could even introduce himself. In the service, every superior he’d ever served under knew he had transitioned before they knew anything else about him. It had never mattered that he could hardly look less like a woman, they were going to treat him differently because of something he never could have controlled. The thought of his first boss as a civilian only seeing the M on his ID, of not dealing with the shock and confusion and inevitable prejudice that come with being trans, was one of the sole bright spots he’d thought of after being discharged.

He grits his teeth now, sitting in a shitty chair with cracking vinyl in a superior officer’s barren office. Somehow, thousands of miles away from any military base he was ever stationed at, Johnny feels like he never fucking left the service. His knee twinges in pain and he barely manages to keep from shifting to try and ease it. 

“Folks usually cannae tell,” he finally replies. “Not unless someone tells them.”

Shepherd catches the implication in his tone and nods to himself, letting his head roll to the side. “You’re a surprise hire, so the other guards won’t know of course. It’s probably for the best if you keep it that way.”

“Probably,” Johnny agrees, just barely keeping the sarcasm from his voice. He tacks on a, “Sir,” for good measure. 

Shepherd eyes him again, scanning him head to toe like he can see all of Johnny’s weak spots. It takes effort not to shift in place and stretch his stiffening knee. The damn thing hasn’t stopped aching since he was let out of the hospital, even with the painkillers he takes daily. He worries about how much worse it’ll be when he runs out.

Finally, Shepherd grunts and stands, leaning his weight against palms laid flat on the desk. “You’re dismissed, MacTavish. Officer Garrick will be waiting for you just down the hall. He’ll give you a tour and help you get settled”

Johnny nods and stands, finding himself grateful when Shepherd doesn’t offer a hand to shake. Neither of them are under any illusions that the other wants them there, and Johnny’s glad he’s not expected to pretend this is anything but his final resort. There’s no coming up with a lie about how he wants this job, no pretending his strengths and weaknesses fit into this career - just a silent acknowledgment of an owed favor and a contract with his name signed on the dotted line. 

He lets Shepherd’s office door close behind him and takes a deep, stabilizing breath, a modicum of tension melting from his shoulders. 

The air in the prison is warm and stale, and Johnny feels like he can’t quite get a full breath in because of it. The halls are suspiciously silent, and if he were still a betting man he’d say the air conditioning has gone out and left the whole building just past the point of comfortably warm. 

His steps are near silent as he walks back the way he came, his old training keeping the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. It’s a conscious effort to keep from limping at all, and his right knee screams at him for it.

Johnny’s determined not to show any weakness, though. He can sit on his ass as much as wants to give his bum knee a break - after work. But here in this building, he knows he can’t can’t show such an obvious weak point.

The man waiting for him at the end of the hall strikes the same chord in Johnny’s mind as Shepherd had - they both look like men straight out of the military. Garrick is a few inches taller than Johnny, with buzzed black hair and a dark complexion. 

“Hey,” the man smiles, standing from his relaxed position against the wall once Johnny gets within a few feet of him. “Officer MacTavish, right?”

“That’s me,” Johnny confirms, holding a hand out for a quick but firm shake. “You’re Garrick, then?”

“Call me Gaz.” Garrick smiles, wide and easy, showing off teeth just slightly crooked in his mouth. Johnny smiles back, almost surprising himself with how easy it comes. “It’s my callsign, from when I was enlisted. Nothing else ever quite feels as natural, least not when I’m armed like this.” He laughs, open and light, and Johnny finds more of his tension easing away.

“You can call me Soap, then,” he says, falling into step beside Gaz as the man leads him down the hall. 

“Alright, Soap, I’ll be showing you around and giving you a quick rundown of everything you’ll be expected to do. You ready?”

“Course. Lead the way, Officer.”

———————————————————————

The job ends up being easier than Johnny expected. He almost wants to turn to Gaz and say that’s it? You just want me to babysit these killers all day? Is that really all you do? But even Johnny’s rusty - and that’s being kind - social skills tell him that would be a step too far on his first day.

Gaz tells him that the first few weeks will be easy, that Johnny will mostly just be expected to travel with a pack of other guards and act as an extra set of eyes. He’s to go where his CO tells him to go, watch who his CO tells him to watch, and do what his CO tells him to do. Really, it’s nothing too different than he’s been doing for the last decade - except here there are no targets , only prisoners, and his objective is to keep them alive instead of killing them. 

Quite frankly, it all sounds boring to him. The thought of standing around for hours on end and watching prisoners just go about their day-to-day lives sounds like hell on both his bad knee and his attention span, and Johnny’s far from eager to start his new job.

But it’s the only place he’s found that’ll pay him nearly enough. Anywhere else, and he’d have to stop sending money to Nan, and it’s not like any of his cousins would be decent enough to pick up the slack - they’ve long since proved that they’ll smoke or gamble any spare change away before taking care of anyone else. So if he wants to keep the lights on for his family, he’s not getting out of here before any of the prisoners.

“We really don’t have much of a behavior issue here,” Gaz says on their way out, the sun just beginning to set as they stop just outside the door. “The prisoners have their own hierarchy, and they tend to keep themselves in line. But when they don’t-” Here he smirks, sending a conspiratorial look Johnny’s way. “Well, that’s what the baton and taser are for. Don’t be afraid to use them if you need to, alright?”

“I’m not worried,” Johnny says, waving the other man off. “Plenty of the men I was deployed with probably shoulda been locked up, same as these blokes. If I can’t handle them, I’m worse off than I could’ve thought.” 

They share a laugh, and Johnny can physically feel some of the weight lifting off his shoulders when he realizes he doesn’t have to force it. Maybe the new job won’t be so bad if he can make some real friends.

The thought tugs him to a stop, stalling his laughter. Friends. It’s been nearly a decade since he’d had a friend. His fellow soldiers were brothers in arms at best, despised acquaintances at worst. The prospect of having a coworker he’s truly amicable with, someone he’d maybe go out for drinks with, gives him more hope for life as a civilian than any mandated therapy session ever had.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Gaz says, once they’ve both stopped laughing. “Where you parked?”

“Oh, uh- I’m takin’ the bus for a bit. Car’s in the shop,” Johnny explains, wincing internally at the lie. He’ll have to come up with something a little more permanent before long, but the explanation is satisfactory enough for now.

“You sure?” Gaz’s brows furrow a bit, in what reads to Johnny as genuine concern. “I don’t mind giving you a ride, the bus is quite a walk.”

“I’ll be fine, mate,” he reassures, clapping Gaz on the shoulder and turning away, waving a hand over his shoulder. “Tomorrow, yeah? See you then.”

He doesn’t wait for the other man’s response, just wraps his jacket tight around himself and tucks his hands beneath his arms. It’s just cool enough for him to shiver, and to wish he’d worn boots instead of runners.

The prison yard is full of inmates as Johnny walks by it - a good distance away from the fence, but still easily visible. He knows they’ll be out for another ten minutes or so after he’s officially off the clock, which means they’ll be locked back in their cells before long.

As soon as one of them catches sight of Johnny - and his ugly khaki uniform - they start howling and shouting through the fence.

“‘Ey, where you goin’ Officer? Headin’ home to your nice mansion?”

“Goin’ back to fuckin’ suburbia, pig?”

“Don’t you come back, damn polis! I see you tomorrow, I’ll make you my bitch!”

Johnny’s lip curls at the insults, and he has to force himself not to shout something back. His pride chafes against his silence, but he knows instigating will only make things worse. Still, he’s tense as he walks, jaw clenched tight enough to give himself a headache when he hears a wolf-whistle as he turns the corner.

Jackasses, all of ‘em, he thinks, only relaxing when he knows he’s no longer within their sight. He can see the bus stop now, even though it’s a few blocks away.

His knee twinges just as the first drop of rain hits his nose and Johnny sighs, hustling as much as his aching leg will allow.

He’s soaked to the bone by the time he finally makes it to the bench. 

———————————————————————

The next day, Johnny finds himself in surprisingly high spirits. The bus had been right on time that morning, instead of ten minutes late like it had been the day before, and it’s started to sink in that he’s finally got consistent work - and more importantly, a consistent paycheck. His walk to the bus, and then the prison, is clear and pleasant, not a cloud in the sky.

By the time he finally clocks in, he’s almost walking with a pep in his step. The only thing that clouds his mood is the pain in his right knee - he hadn’t walked as much as he had yesterday since finishing off his physical therapy, and he hasn’t been doing the best at keeping up with his exercises. The joint is stiff and tense today, and it’s harder to mask his limp. Not impossible, but something he has to focus on.

Still, the dull pain isn’t enough to fully cloud his spirits. He picks up his baton and taser from the staff room, clipping them to his belt and smiling at Officer Garrick when the other man steps in.

“Mornin’,” he calls, glad to see the other man step to a cubby right near his to start getting ready for their shift. He counts the keys on his keychain, making sure that they haven’t impossibly disappeared, and hooks it through a belt loop, tugging to check that it’s secure.

“Morning, Soap. I’m glad to see you’re in high spirits.”

“Aye. Got a good night’s sleep, got me ready to take on the day.” It’s a lie - Johnny hasn’t truly gotten a good night’s sleep since he came home. He’d heard similar things from other soldiers, something about a real bed being too comfortable, but he had managed to sleep decently the night before.

“I’m glad. You’re working under Officer Graves today, and… well, he’s not particularly popular with most of the guards.”

Johnny cocks an eyebrow at Gaz, leaning his hip against the counter as the other man readies himself. “Really? I figured I’d still be with you a few more days.”

“Neither of us are that lucky, I’m afraid.” Gaz smiles at him sardonically, then steps back and holds a hand toward the door. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The walk to the lobby of the prison - a large room right before the entrance into the actual prison, but with thick windows to see in - together, both lingering at the back of the small crowd of guards.

Johnny’s boss - Graves, a man he hadn’t met yet but already had a sour opinion of, thanks to Gaz‘s description of him during their tour - stands at the front of the room, reading off job assignments from memory and sending guards into the prison to get ready for the day.

“Garrick, I want you in the yard today. Keep an eye on Vargas - he’s been gettin’ too cocky recently. And then… ah, our new guy.” Graves smiles at Johnny as he stands from his place against the wall. Gaz pats his back heavily as he heads off, and Johnny moves towards his new CO when the shorter man gestures him forward.

“I want you to take food to our guy in solitary,” Graves says, clapping a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. He’s got to reach up, since he’s several inches shorter than Johnny, and something about that difference makes his spine straighten. “He’s a mean bastard, but he shouldn’t cause you too much trouble. You won’t get the easy assignments everyday though, rook, so don’t get used to it.”

Johnny just barely keeps from rolling his eyes. “Aye, I’ll manage. Where’s solitary?”

Graves claps him twice more, then steps away. “Read the maps on the wall, MacTavish, it’s not my job to hold your hand,” he says, turning away. “Parra! What’d I say about gettin’ close to the cells like that?”

Johnny grumbles under his breath as he turns to the faded map pinned to the wall. It’s not the easiest thing to read - one corner is unstuck from the wall, and the creases across the whole paper are so deep that certain words are unreadable. But Johnny’s read more confusing under worse circumstances, and it doesn’t take him long to find himself and the cafeteria on the map.

There are a few guards already in the large room when he arrives, most of them paired off among each other and lingering around the edges of the room. He doesn’t bother talking to any of them, and instead heads straight for the assembly-lines of cooks, eager to get his first task done and hopefully get assigned to something he can stand still for.

“Excuse me,” he calls, waving down the first woman to look towards him. “I’m supposed to be taking breakfast to a prisoner in solitary. Have you got that for me?”

The woman he’s speaking to - Rhonda, her name tag says - looks entirely unamused by Johnny’s presence, but she slides a tray of food across to him.

“Thanks,” he says, smiling at her. He’d always enjoyed getting the tougher soldiers to crack when he’d been assigned to their teams. Seeing a burly sniper’s lips finally twitch after days of joking around felt nearly as good as praise from a CO, and something about Rhonda makes Johnny think she’ll be ten times harder to amuse than even the most hardened soldier. “Should I just bring the tray back to you, then?”

She gives him a long look, scanning him head to toe. “You new, then? He’ll give the tray back to you when he’s finished, then you drop it off with the busboy.” She points over to an older man leaned against the counter, cigarette hanging loose from his lips despite the strict ‘no smoking’ policy Johnny had been warned of. He only notices a moment later that the fag is unlit, and the man seems more interested in rolling it between his teeth than smoking it.

“You’re a doll,” he says, winking at Rhonda as he picks up the tray and only grinning more fully when she rolls her eyes and turns away. “Back in a jiffy!”

He’s almost positive he can hear her curse at him under her breath, and that only makes his smile feel more real.

The walk from the cafeteria to solitary isn’t a long one, but it is lonely. Johnny occasionally passes or spots another employee making the rounds, but none of them bother to even acknowledge his presence. After such an open greeting from Gaz, he’d expected most of the guards to be somewhat like him, but he’s quickly finding that it seems to be the opposite. He can’t bring himself to be too disappointed, though - he’s content enough with just one friend for now. He tells himself that he never would have been able to keep up with more than that - he barely keeps contact with family, these days - and pretends he doesn’t feel just the slightest bit disappointed.

The solitary confinement hall has ten cells, five on each side, though only one of them is closed and locked. There’s a guard waiting at one end of the corridor, half-asleep and leaning most of his weight against the wall, but he jerks straight when Johnny clears his throat.

The man has to blink for a minute to clear the sleep from his eyes, and Johnny cocks a brow as he waits.

“Oh, are you here to take over? Good, good, my shift’s already run long and Shepherd’s been a bitch recently about overtime.” The man’s already straightened and several steps away by the time what he’s said clicks in Johnny’s brain.

“I’m not here to take over your shift, mate, I’m just here to give the inmate his…” he trails off as the man doesn’t turn around, fully disappearing around the corner before Johnny can finish his sentence. “...food.”

With a sigh, Johnny turns toward the cells. The doors are all nearly identical, the only thing differentiating them being their signs of wear and the light above their frame - one green, nine red.

Not fully sure what he’s meant to do, Johnny bends to slide the long and thin slot near the ground open, nudging the tray through and wincing when it clatters to the floor. After a moment of silence he stands back up, lingering unsurely.

When the silence stretches a full two minutes, he pulls open the small window at his eye-level, squinting to see into the dark room.

It’s empty.

For a moment, Johnny can do nothing but stare. But no matter how many times he runs his eyes over the same details of the room, they don’t change. Nothing moves, not even a shadow against the wall, and the room appears entirely empty.

“Anybody in there?” He calls, wincing internally at the choice in wording. He sounds like he’s asking if a bathrooms empty, not making sure a likely violent criminal hasn’t fucking escaped.

Unsurprisingly, there’s no response from the empty room.

He doesn’t know what to do.

Had something like this happened in the military, had someone else fucked up so massively that every person even tangentially involved was at risk for punishment, he’d have helped the idiot cover it up and then told everything to Price and let him worry about whether or not it needed to be taken any further.

But here, Johnny can’t put himself at risk. He doesn’t have Price’s reputation to fall back on, doesn’t have tenure or medals or broken records to cushion his fall. If he’s caught in any sort of crossfire here, he’ll lose everything.

He worries his tongue between his teeth, shifting to ease weight off his bad knee. He can’t make any decisions without knowing all the information, so he cautiously unhooks his keyring from his pants and finds the right key, unlocking the cell door.

The hinges are loud as the door eases open, and Johnny only just barely manages to keep from jumping at the broken silence. His palms are beginning to sweat just a bit, but his hands are steady as he just barely cracks the door and steps inside.

He’s hardly a full step into the cell when a hand grabs him by the collar, tugging him into a fist to his eye. Before he can do more than grunt at the burst of pain, he’s shoved face first into the rough cinder block wall, his arms yanked behind him and twisted painfully.

“Fuck!” Johnny hisses, tension lining his every muscle.

The man behind him is silent, but Johnny can feel the long line of him pressed against his spine. He’s a big fucker, not a bit of Johnny’s back isn’t being touched, and he can feel breath ghosting over his mohawk.

“You’re new,” the prisoner says after a long few beats of silence. Johnny bares his teeth against the wall, jerking in the man’s hold. “Ah, ah,” he scolds, tugging Johnny’s wrists back and pushing his shoulders forward with his free hand, tugging his arms uncomfortably in their sockets. “Stay still.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Johnny sneers, dropping his head a bit and allowing his face to twist in discomfort since he knows the prisoner can’t see him. “You’re gonna stay in this hellhole twice as long once Shepherd hears about this, I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again, ye bastard.”

“You a snitch?” There’s an amused tinge to the man’s voice, one that has Johnny growling and jerking in his hold again, damp forehead pressed to the wall. “You gonna go tattle on me, Officer? Tell them the big bad prisoner roughed you up a bit?”

“Get the fuck off of me,” Johnny hisses, kicking his good leg back to the prisoner’s knee. He doesn’t manage to hit him, but the man has to spread his legs a little further to dodge the blow. Before he can force Johnny into an even harsher hold, he kicks his leg back again with even more force. The prisoner makes a rough sound low in his throat when the heel of Johnny’s combat boot digs into his balls, his hold on Johnny’s wrists slackening immediately.

Had Johnny had any less experience in hand-to-hand combat, he wouldn’t have been able to jerk free before the prisoner got his bearings back. He can feel the man’s hold tightening just before her jerks away, turning quickly and landing a solid blow to the center of his chest.

The prisoner stumbles back just half a step, more out of surprise than anything he’d guess, but it creates more than enough space for Johnny to slide away from him and quickly throw himself out of the cell. Just before the door can slam closed, pale fingers lock around the corner.

It’s only Johnny’s momentum and his adrenaline that gives him enough strength to force the door closed anyway - were he not throwing his entire body weight backwards, he knows the prisoner would’ve been able to keep it open.

There’s a barely muffled curse as the man’s fingers are crushed in the door frame, and only Johnny pounding them with a closed fist gets him to fully let go. It only occurs to him a moment later that he has a baton on his hip for this exact moment, but he’s too busy trying to breathe through the adrenaline rush to care about his idiotic mistake. 

He swallows thickly, working saliva back into his mouth, and takes another step further away from the door. He takes a long breath to make sure his voice is steady, then speaks loud enough for the prisoner to hear him. 

“You know the routine. Eat your fuckin’ food, then slide the tray back out.” He tacks on a “Bastard,” his head already starting to pound. He’s not actually sure if that’s what the routine is, but he can’t imagine it’s anything else. 

When the prisoner doesn’t respond, he takes another few steps away and leans where the other guard had been. He presses his fingers around his throbbing eye socket, hissing at the dull but growing pain. He’ll have a nice shiner, for sure, but as best he can tell there’s no further damage.

It only takes a few minutes for the prisoner to toss the tray back out, the plastic clattering loudly in the silent hall. It’s completely clean, just crumbs and a residual grease left smeared on the plate.

He crouches down to grab the tray and nearly jumps out of his skin when he glances up and sees the top half of a face glaring at him from the small opening.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” he hisses, jerking back and away before he can really manage a good look at the man. He sees pale skin and shadowed, deep-set eye sockets, but not much else.

Johnny curses as he slides the little door shut, scolding himself for having such a visceral reaction to a man. A man who can’t possibly be the worst thing he’s ever faced, a man who’s literally locked in a cage. It’s a blow to the ego to have gotten so worked up over an unarmed prisoner when Johnny has multiple weapons on him, easily within reach.

It’s pathetic, is what it is. Pathetic, and a sharp reminder that he’s not the same man as he was even a year ago. Sergeant Soap MacTavish and Officer John MacTavish aren’t the same, no matter how much he tries to tell himself nothing’s changed since he was before being discharged. Everything’s changed, and this is just salt rubbed in the wound of it all.

He’s just turning around to head back to the cafeteria when he hears a new voice call out. “Hey, what’re you doing here? Smith is supposed to be on duty right now.”

The man heading towards Johnny is around his height, with brown skin and dark hair. He wears a uniform identical to Johnny’s, except the nametag over his heart says PARRA instead of MACTAVISH.

“Brought breakfast for ‘im,” Johnny explains, jerking a thumb over his shoulder and unable to keep a scowl from twisting his lips. “The other officer - Smith, I guess - left before I could tell that to him.”

Parra rolls his eyes, stepping fully forward and glancing over at the locked cell door, checking for something Johnny can’t think to look for. “Sounds like him. He’s always trying to get off early, doesn’t care who he dumps his shift onto.” He gives Johnny a considering look and a small smile. “Thanks for waiting for someone else to show up. A lot of new guys would just leave the job to someone else.”

Johnny doesn’t bother to correct him, figuring it can’t hurt for Parra not to know he’d been about to leave. 

“I’m Officer Parra,” the other man says, offering a hand. “But you can call me Rudy.”

“Officer MacTavish,” Johnny returns, shaking the man’s hand. “Johnny.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Rudy smiles. “You can head off now. Graves’ll want you assigned to something else soon, best not to keep him waiting on your first day.”

There’s something odd in Rudy’s tone that makes Johnny unsure of the man, something almost judgmental. He gives the other guard a stiff smile, and turns to leave with a, “Thanks, mate. I’ll be seeing you,” sent over his shoulder.

He only gets turned around once on his way back to the cafeteria, and it’s only because he can’t quite shake the feeling that someone’s watching him. There’s something keeping his arms covered in goosebumps despite the warm air, some instinct making him fight the urge to glance over his shoulder no less than five times.

It’s through sheer force of will that he doesn’t. He knows with absolute certainty that no one’s following him, because the hallway is dead silent besides his quick footsteps. But that feeling still doesn’t dissipate, and that puts Johnny on edge.

The cafeteria is packed full of prisoners when he finally arrives, but none of them pay him any attention as he skirts around the edges of the room to drop the empty tray on top of a pile of other dishes. The busboy doesn’t give him any attention, so Johnny turns to scan the room for Graves.

He’s standing near the main entrance to the cafeteria, not the side door Johnny had come through, and leans against the wall just a foot or two away from a group of guards. They’re laughing just loudly enough to be obnoxious and Graves taps his baton against his palm, somehow making a show of the simple motion.

Johnny tries not to feel too irritated before even speaking to the man again, but it’s difficult.

“Graves,” he calls as he steps to the man’s side. “Got the prisoner in solitary fed, what’d you-”

“It’s Officer Graves, MacTavish,” Graves corrects, his tone snappish but lips quirked in a grin. “I’m your boss, not your equal.”

Johnny expects him to barrel on and say something else, but Graves only raises a brow and waits for a response.

“Right,” he forces out, trying not to grind his teeth. “Officer Graves. I fed the bloke in solitary, where do you want me now?”

Graves gives him a long look, something sharpening in his gaze. “You can shadow Garrick for the rest of the day, learn the ropes a bit more.”

Johnny’s nodding and already turning away when Graves says, “Hey, what happened there?”

“What?”

Graves uses his baton to point to his own right eye, head tilting. “Got some swelling going on there, MacTavish. Anything we should know about?”

Johnny turns back, considering for a moment before deciding he’s got nothing to lose since the prisoner didn’t actually manage to escape.

“The cell looked empty when I shoved the tray through. Thought the prisoner must’ve escaped somehow, but I double checked before reporting anything. The bastard must’ve been hiding somewhere, he got a good blow in before I got him off me and locked him in.” 

Graves laughs at that, a sharp and loud sound that makes Johnny’s shoulders inch towards his ears.

“Yeah, that’s Ghost for you. Seems like he hazed you for us, rook.”

Johnny cocks his head. “Ghost?”

Graves hums, nodding. “Sure. His real name is Simon Riley, but everyone here just calls him Ghost. Big bastard, mean too. He’s in solitary more often than not these days, but that’s perfectly fine with me. The men get real testy when he’s in genpop with the rest of ‘em, always trying to take his place.”

“Why’d they call him Ghost?”

Graves scoffs, and one of the men next to him snickers. “You joking? You met the man this morning - they call him Ghost because of the way he disappears. Then fools like you go looking, and he takes you out before you even realize he’s there.”

A part of Johnny wants to bite out something about how he wasn’t taken out, and he actually got the best of this Ghost, but he locks the words behind his teeth and lets Graves’ dig roll off his shoulders. He nods, and takes another step away. “Well, he won’t be gettin’ the drop on me like that again, I know that.”

Graves laughs again, like Johnny’s a fool, and it takes everything in him to turn and walk away instead of knocking him out.

———————————————————————

The rest of the day goes as he had expected. He and Gaz follow the prisoners from room to room like shepherds, watching them try to find anything to fill the time.

Gaz talks while they watch. He tells Johnny about certain inmates’ personalities, tells him who’s someone else’s bitch, tells him how to spot a conflict they actually need to step in and de-escelate. Johnny listens intently, even if his mind wanders during some of the more boring explanations.

Eventually, when Gaz’s voice has gone flat and Johnny has stopped asking clarifying questions, the conversation moves into stories about their military days.

Johnny learns that he and Gaz had just barely missed each other several times. He learns that the other man knows Price too - and that they’re closer than Soap had been to his captain - and that Gaz had left instead of being discharged, that he has a sick mother at home to take care of.

When Garrick asks why Johnny left, he hesitates. It would be nothing to explain that his knee has been blown to smithereens, that he’d been discharged because he could hardly walk for weeks, let alone be of any use in combat. Gaz has surely seen worse injuries, just like Johnny has, but there’s still something that makes him pause before explaining.

When he fumbles around an explanation involving his elderly Nan and deadbeat cousins, Gaz only tuts and gives him a sympathetic look, and the conversation moves on. But Johnny’s lie lingers at the back of his mind, like an itch he can’t quite reach between his shoulders.

The day passes… well, not quickly, but not necessarily slowly either, with Gaz by his side. Six-thirty rolls around, and Johnny feels satisfied with his first day. 

He’s walking towards the staff room with Garrick and another officer, Keller, when Graves stops him.

“MacTavish, c’mere for a second.”

Johnny glances at Gaz to see if the man has any idea what their CO could want from him and receives an entirely useless shrug in return. With only a small amount of trepidation, Johnny turns towards Graves and steps into the adjoining hall the other man gestures him towards.

“I need you to stay a bit late,” Graves starts, his expression far from mocking like it had been this morning. “I’ve got an assignment for you. You’ll be paid overtime.”

“Alright,” Johnny says slowly, shifting his weight onto his good foot. He’s more than willing to stay for a little bit of extra money, but there’s something in Graves’ expression that makes him feel like he’s missing something. “What’s the assignment then?”

Graves runs his tongue over his top teeth, then sighs. “Ghost showers on his own - some deal he made with the warden, don’t ask. He can’t be in there with other prisoners, but someone has to watch him to make sure he’s not sharpening another knife from his toothbrush. He’s requested it be you.”

Johnny’s still stuck on toothbrush knife when Graves’ look goes from reluctant to expectant. Then, what he’s said clicks.

“He… requested me?”

“That’s what I said.”

Johnny can’t help but let the skepticism bleed into his expression. “So he gets to request whatever he wants? And he gets it?”

Graves sighs impatiently, like Johnny’s asked him the stupidest question possible. “Ghost makes requests like this for the same reason he showers alone. He’s got some sort of deal with Shepherd that gets whatever he wants, and today what he wants is you. God only knows why, but quite frankly, I have no interest in questioning the man. If you’re so curious, ask him yourself.”

Johnny scowls, not bothering to disguise his expression at all. Graves only manages to get more irritating everytime they speak, and Johnny’s got no patience for dealing with him. “Fine. Where are the showers, then?”

Graves gives him quick directions. “Oh, and you’ll have to stand in the showers with him. You stand just outside, he’ll get the best of you. We’ve lost enough guards that way, and I don’t want to deal with training another newbie.”

“Wait,” Johnny says, stopping Graves before he can walk away. “Did you say in the shower with him?”

Graves scowls at Johnny like he’s something rotten. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of the man already, rook?”

“You just said he’s taken out multiple guards!” Johnny defends.

Graves rolls his eyes. “You’ll be fine. Keep your baton and your taser on you, and don’t drop the soap. Simple.” He smirks, giving Johnny a patronizing look. “Don’t work yourself up about it.”

Graves walks away before Johnny can say something insulting back, which - as annoying as it is to not have the last word - is probably for the best. Johnny’s hands are already clenched into fists at his side, and even with his very limited job experience he knows punching your boss on your first day would be a mistake.

Still, the sight of Graves swaggering away before Johnny can say something equally rude to him is bitter, the implication that Johnny is a coward is even more so. He can’t wipe the scowl from his face as he heads to solitary confinement, the tension in his spine only growing. 

Rudy is still on duty when he arrives, not looking any different than he had that morning, and not moved an inch from where Johnny had last seen him.

“Hey, what’re you doin’ back in this wing?” Parra asks, his lips lifting in a smile as he stands from the wall to greet Johnny. 

“Graves sent me to take Riley to the shower,” Johnny explains, rolling his eyes in what he hopes comes off as more I-hate-extra-work than I-hate-our-boss. 

“He’s got you on that now?” Rudy lifts his brows, glancing over at the cell door like he’s looking at Ghost. “Well, better you than me - truth be told, he always creeped me out a bit. You got your cuffs?”

Johnny dangles them from his pointer finger and Rudy nods, moving forward to unlock the cell door.

“Alright, you know the deal, Ghost. Back of the cell, facing the wall,” Rudy calls out, his tone not changed at all from the way he had spoken to Johnny. He watches through the eye-level window for a few long moments, then grunts, satisfied, and swings open the door. 

Part of Johnny is still expecting to see an empty cell, even knowing that Parra had just watched Riley. But sure enough, there Simon Riley stands at the back, facing the wall.

The cell is smaller with him in it. Ghost is all filthy jumpsuit and broad back, nothing but a pale neck and buzzed blond hair from what Johnny can see. There’s hardly a foot between the top of his head and the ceiling, and if he were to lift both his arms he’d be able to touch each wall with the palms of his hands.

He holds perfectly still, hands tucked behind his back, and he’s still one of the most threatening people Johnny’s ever seen. The air around him feels rotted, like the very atoms of oxygen are saying stay away, this one’s dangerous.

Unfortunately, Johnny doesn’t have the luxury of listening to his instincts. He steps forward with feigned confidence and snaps the suddenly pathetic looking cuffs around wide wrists with as little hesitation as he can manage. When Johnny steps back, Ghost turns with him and takes a step forward.

If he was intimidating from the back, he’s terrifying from the front.

He’s got a wide jaw and a heavy brow, with a crooked nose and thin lips. He’s got stripes of nearly white skin across his cheeks and neck, little scars that are at all different stages of fading. His eyes are brown, and the dark lighting in the room combined with his deep-set eye sockets make him almost look like he doesn’t have any at all. 

His face is flat, still, and unexpresive. Something about the complete lack of expression is more intimidating than the half a foot and hundred extra pounds of muscle he’s got compared to Johnny. 

But Johnny’s far from inexperienced in putting on a brave front when facing something dangerous, and he doesn’t let Ghost see how shaken he is. He fixes a scowl on his face and steps out of the cell, unclipping his baton and using it to point down the hall. “You know the way.”

Riley’s head tilts, like he’s considering whether or not he should listen, and he gives Johnny’s body a long, invasive look. It takes every ounce of training he’s had not to flinch or try to adjust his stance.

A long, silent moment later, Ghost steps out of the cell and begins the walk to the showers. Johnny is close behind him, baton in his palm and muscles locked, ready for anything the prisoner might try.

Once he’s sure they’re far enough away that Parra won’t hear, Johnny says, “You pull some shit like you did this morning ever again and I’ll break your fuckin’ knees.”

Ghost is silent, his steps unfaltering. Johnny scowls behind his back, frustration quickly building. “Ye hear me? It won’t be your buddy Shepherd you deal with next time, it’ll be me. Whatever deal you’ve cut with him won’t matter then.”

Again, silence. Johnny scoffs when he realizes he’s not getting a response, poking the butt of his baton into the small of Ghost’s back to urge him on a little faster.

Johnny’s lip curls as he swings the door open, turning his body enough to allow Riley plenty of room through. The man still brushes his arm along Johnny’s chest, and it’s a conscious effort to keep his breath from hitching.

When Johnny follows Ghost into the showers, letting the door slam shut behind him, Ghost looks back at him and raises a brow. The look is distinctly unamused, and Johnny glares as he leans against the wall, trying to make himself seem confident and assured.

“I’m here to make sure you don’t kill yourself or plan to kill someone else. That means I’m not leavin’ this room while you’re in it,” he gripes, undoing Ghost’s cuffs with just a bit more roughness than strictly necessary. When Ghost’s look doesn’t change from that who the fuck do you think you are expression, Johnny smiles rudely up at him. “Get over it. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Ghost blows a sharp breath through his nose, maintaining his silence as he takes a step further into the room and begins to undress.

Somehow, Riley almost seems bigger without clothes. Every pale bit of skin exposed only serves to reassure the voice in the back of Johnny’s head screaming danger!. He’s muscular, but his entire body is covered in a layer of fat that only serves to make him seem bigger, stronger. 

When he turns towards Johnny, every single part of the officer’s mind is screaming at him to run .

Ghost sets off Johnny’s flight reaction like nothing in life ever has before. He’d never once thought to run from a terrorist, or a bomb, or any sort of combat situation. Now, standing with a baton in hand in front of an unarmed man, he feels the distinct urge to fucking flee .

It only makes him more determined to plant his feet and stand strong. If he can face down crazed terrorists, he can sure as hell face one convict. 

Johnny’s careful to avoid looking between his legs when he kicks his pants off. He very intentionally keeps his eyes locked on Ghost’s chest, unwilling to look away but equally unwilling to examine the larger man any more intently than he already has. 

Ghost stands completely still, naked as the day he was born, for a few long seconds. Then he smirks, blows another sharp breath through his nose, and turns away. 

Johnny doesn’t move from his spot by the entrance. He’s still firmly in the showers like Graves told him to be, but across the room from Ghost as he chooses the shower head furthest away from him. He faces the wall and because he’s so far away, Johnny gets a full view of his body. His back is as scarred as his face had been, but instead of clean and thin scars there are burns and gnarled marks he recognizes as gunshot wounds.

To Johnny’s relief, Ghost doesn’t take his time. He’s quick to cover his body in soap and rinse it off, hardly taking any time to scrub himself clean at all. Somehow it doesn’t surprise Johnny that this man doesn’t care much about his own hygiene.

He’s turning the old faucet off hardly five minutes after turning it on. When he turns around, Johnny quite can’t look away before he sees that his cock is half-hard, thick between his legs and almost curving upwards, but it’s almost like he’s too heavy for it to fully lift.

Ghost’s face is still set in that flat, deadpan expression as he begins to stride towards Johnny, completely ignoring his pile of clothes. Johnny scowls, standing up from the wall and straightening. “What do you think you’re-?”

Ghost’s hand is around his throat before he can finish, slamming him back into the tile wall. Johnny’s head cracks against it and his scalp presses into the grout..

“Why do you talk so fucking much?” Riley hisses, nose to nose. His body presses against Johnny’s, soaking the front of his uniform. “Didn’t anybody ever shut you up?”

Johnny can’t help but be offended as he raises the baton and slams it into Riley’s side - he hasn’t rambled nearly as much as he had on missions, here he’s downright quiet - but the bigger man just eats the blow. Johnny feels like he’s hit a punching bag, like Ghost won't be hurt no matter how hard he hits.

When Johnny slams the baton into his side again, Ghost’s free hand rips the taser from his belt. He can’t help but make an aborted growl, but one flex of Riley’s hand silences him completely.

Ghost holds the taser between them, letting it hover just a few inches from Johnny’s neck, and presses the trigger to let the electricity dance. Johnny doesn’t flinch, only struggles and glares. When Riley smiles, Johnny swings for his head.

It’s nothing short of humiliating, how quickly Riley has him fully trapped. It seems to take the same amount of effort for the prisoner to throw Johnny’s taser to the side and rip his baton from his hand as it had for him to shower - almost none. 

“You gonna be good, or am I gonna have to get mean?” The larger man growls, tapping the baton against Johnny’s hip and bearing down on him. Like this, with the way Ghost towers over him, Johnny feels completely covered by the man. The overhead lights are blocked out by his body, and Johnny is completely in his shadow.

He strains back towards the wall, manages to get just enough pressure off of his throat to gasp, “Fuhck- yew-”.

Riley’s answering smile is sharp, cruel. “Beg me properly and you might just get what you want.”

Johnny’s face twists in rage, but before he can do anything in retaliation, Ghost slams the baton into his right knee and releases his throat.

Johnny’s vision whites out as he falls to the floor, the tile unforgiving against his knees. His ears are ringing when he can see again, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s from the echo of his own shout in the room. 

He only manages to get one foot beneath him when Riley locks a hand in his mohawk, tightening his fingers and twisting until Johnny’s pulling away with a wince. He forces the smaller man’s head to the wall then steps closer, so his feet bracket either one of his knees. His neck is wrenched at an uncomfortable angle, Ghost pushing him down so he’s bent backwards with a sharp arch in his spine.

“Fuckin’ bastard,” Johnny hisses, face still screwed up in pain as Ghost presses his hips forward, his damp and quickly hardening cock sliding against Johnny’s cheek.

There’s a low chuckle from above him, and Johnny twists his head to the side, baring his teeth to bite-

The baton presses against his throat, just below his Adam's apple. 

“Keep your teeth covered or I’ll knock ‘em out,” Ghost growls, pressing hard enough for Johnny to choke on his next breath of air. He closes his mouth tight, grimacing as he feels a few strands of hair pulled out of his scalp. “Good.”

The praise chafes against his skin and Johnny opens his eyes just enough to glare up at Ghost, hands pressed against his thighs.

Ghost grins down at him, all sharp teeth and malice. “You gonna put up a little fight? I got no problem knocking you out and using you when you’re all limp and quiet. That how you want your friends to find you? Want them to see you fuckin’ ruined?”

Johnny’s fingers flex around the muscle of Ghost’s thigh, but he doesn’t push him away. There’s no doubt which one of them is stronger, especially with Johnny’s knee screaming in pain beneath him. 

If the military taught him anything, it taught him to endure. As much as it frustrates him to lean into the wall behind him, to not rip Riley’s balls right off his body and bite his dick off, Johnny knows that isn’t the right choice here. 

“Good,” Ghost rumbles, the hand in Johnny’s hair loosening fractionally. Not enough to really relieve any pain, but enough to be noticeable. “Might keep you around. Fuck this pretty mouth whenever I want.”

“Just get it over with,” Johnny hisses, swallowing and wincing when the baton presses against his throat more harshly for a moment.

“Eager,” Ghost hums. 

Luckily he doesn’t say anything else, just tugs Johnny’s head back a little more and presses the tip of his cock against his lips. Johnny can’t help the way he winces when Ghost pushes into his face. He can’t bring himself to let his lips part, can’t give even another inch when it already feels like Ghost has taken a mile.

There’s an annoyed huff from above him, and Ghost’s hand leaves his hair to pinch Johnny’s nose shut harshly. His eyes fly wide open, staring up at the man in shock, and his shoulders curve in an effort to let him pull away from the unexpected pain. 

“Open up, c’mon.” Ghost’s hips move leisurely back and forth, sliding the ruddy head of his cock along Johnny’s lips and over his cheeks, covering him in sticky pre-cum. No matter how much he thrashes and tries to pull away, Ghost’s fingers only squeeze tighter and follow him.

Johnny holds out for as long as he can, but eventually the burning in his lungs gets to be too much and his lips part - hardly an inch - to let him breathe deeply. As soon as he hears the inhale, Ghost’s hand flies from Johnny’s nose back to his head, shoving his face forward until his mouth is stuffed.

He chokes immediately, eyes flying wide open. It’s not that Johnny’s unfamiliar with something in his mouth, it’s that Riley’s cock is so large he can barely open his jaw wide enough to let him in. He feels like a snake, except instead of swallowing his prey, his jaw is forced to unhinge for another man’s pleasure.

“That’s it,” Riley hisses, ignoring the sick gluck-gluck sounds as he pulls back and pushes his way in farther. “Fuckin’ take it.”

Johnny nearly chokes on bile, lungs heaving as he tries to breathe around the intrusion inside his throat. Ghost has no sympathy for his struggle, doesn’t give him any time to adjust as he lodges himself firmly inside the channel of Johnny’s throat.

Tears stream from Johnny’s eyes, from both humiliation and the strain of being face-fucked. Every time he tries to close his eyes, to let himself drift away even a bit, the hand in his hair tightens far past the point of pain. Ghost doesn’t speak to him again, but the heat in his eyes and the angry snarl of his lips tells Johnny exactly what he wants - eye contact and Johnny’s pain. 

The only mercy is that Ghost doesn’t last long. Johnny isn’t fully cognizant enough to try and keep track of how long the violation lasts, but it can’t be more than a few minutes. Johnny can see the way Riley’s chest heaves as he gets closer, the way his shoulders hunch and the way his hips work in faster, shorter thrusts to get himself off.

He comes in long, thick spurts straight down Johnny’s throat. Another mercy - he doesn’t have to taste it, doesn’t have to do anything more than let his throat work in instinctive swallows to keep the foreign liquid from choking him.

Ghost isn’t quite panting when he finishes, but it’s a close thing. He’s leaning over Johnnt enough that every time he breathes in, the curve of his stomach covers the bottom part of his face from Johnny’s view.

Once he’s drained himself dry, he pulls his cock back enough that just the head of it rests behind Johnny’s teeth, the whole length of him softening.

Just as Johnny begins to wonder what the fuck he’s doing, why this nightmare hasn’t ended, Ghost sighs and rolls his head back on his neck, looking up at the ceiling. Another breath later, a sour taste begins to flood Johnny’s mouth.

He’s tearing away and sputtering as soon as he realizes what’s happening, throwing his head back against the tile so the warm stream of piss hits his neck instead, pouring down his chest instead of his mouth. He can’t throw himself to the side, only succeeding in hurting his neck when he tries because of the iron grip Ghost has on his mohawk.

“What-” he gasps, teary eyes wide as he stares up at Ghost. “What the fu- what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Riley scowls down at him like he’s done something completely unreasonable, jerking his soft cock slowly as he continues to piss. The hand on Johnny’s head tries to force him down again, but he fights back this time and manages to only catch a few drops on his chin instead of having his mouth forced back onto the man’s dick.

“Fuckin’ brat,” Ghost scowls, pointing himself straight at the bit of chest exposed by Johnny’s shirt as he finishes. The rancid stench is heavy in the warm air, choking Johnny. “Figured you’d need a reminder of your place. Clearly I was right.”

Johnny’s seething, every muscle made tense from his anger as he flushes dark. “You evil fuckin’ bastard,” he hisses.

There’s a single, sharp laugh above him as Ghost finally - finally - steps away, beginning to pull his jumpsuit back on as if absolutely nothing is amiss. Johnny doesn’t shift from his spot on the floor but to move as much weight as possible off his right knee, wincing at the horrible pain of it.

Before he can work himself up to standing, Ghost is stepping closer to him and turning the faucet above his head. Immediately, a shower of cold water pours onto Johnny’s form.

His gasp is loud as he rockets up, stumbling back into the wall when his bad leg won’t take his weight. The water is freezing cold as it drenches him, and his fingertips go numb in seconds. His mohawk goes limp from the water, the gel he usually uses to keep it neat melting away and leaving his hair to fall in front of his eyes.

He’s panting when he finally lifts his head, body adjusting to the cold. He pushes his hair back and away from his face, cringing at the wet thud of it against the shaved sides of his head as he slams his other hand into the wall, desperately looking for the faucet.

When he finally finds it, he jerks it to off, nearly heaving as he shivers against the tile.

“What the hell,” he whispers, staring wide-eyed across the room. He can’t tell what’s real and not anymore, can’t tell if this is just one of his bad nightmares, or if an inmate really skull-fucked him, pissed in his mouth, then dumped water on his head.

He blinks slowly, dumbly, before he drags his eyes over to where Ghost stands a few steps away, arms crossed and handcuffs held loosely in one hand. When Johnny only stares at him silently, Ghost lifts an eyebrow. “Well?”

Johnny’s jaw drops, leaving him gaping like a fish. “What?”

“You want to see Parra still stinkin’ of piss? You’re fuckin’ welcome.”

Johnny can’t do anything but stare.

———————————————————————

The walk to the bus stop is long and miserable. Even though it’s not raining, Johnny is soaked to the bone just like the day before, and he limps down the cracked sidewalk at nearly a snail’s pace. 

His leg hasn’t hurt this badly since he first got out of the hospital, and although his eyes won’t focus and he still feels off-kilter, he can’t help but be glad he’s late enough for all the prisoners to have left the rec yard. There’s no one to see his walk of shame.

His mind wanders from thought to thought, willing to land on anything that doesn’t make him think of what happened less than an hour ago. He flinches physically every time his thoughts shift in that direction, the reality of it too raw to examine.

His knee burns and feels like it must have tripled in size, his pant leg tight from the swelling. The sound of his shoe scraping on the concrete is like nails against a chalkboard.

He can still taste the piss in his mouth.

On the bus, the driver seems to go out of his way to hit every pothole and speed bump as roughly as he can. Every jerk of Johnny’s knee against the wall brings him a little closer to tears.

He hasn’t felt so out of control in a long time. He can’t control his pain, can’t control his body (his hands shake, his breath shakes, it feels like his goddamn heart shakes), and he can’t stop remembering how Ghost had blocked out all the light in the room, how he’d forced Johnny down and taken the reins, how he’d-

He’s not sure he’ll make it home without losing his lunch.

In the end, he only barely manages it. He stumbles near his trailer, nearly loses his balance and only keeps it because the idea of falling to his knees sounds worse than death, and retches into the overgrown grass.

He brushes his teeth more times than he can count. The last time he vomits, there’s nothing left to come up but stomach acid and spit.

——————————————————————— 

Gaz does a double take when he sees Johnny the next morning, eyes widening in what would be comical shock if Johnny felt any less like a dead man walking.

“Shit, what happened to you, mate?” Gaz attempts a smile as he stands at his cubby, but can’t quite keep the concern off his face. “Rough night out?”

Johnny’s cheek is almost bloody from how hard he’s biting it. “Something like that,” he manages to mutter, his voice gravelly and hoarse. 

Gaz gives him a look, like he wants to push for more, but luckily he drops it. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re with me today. We’ll keep you in some quieter areas until that hangover goes, yeah?”

Johnny just grunts and follows Gaz out of the staff room, not bothering to correct his assumption.

———————————————————————

“MacTavish!” Graves calls, stepping between Gaz and Johnny while they’re both locking up their weapons for the night. “You’re on overtime again tonight,” he says, slapping Johnny’s shoulder with a forced familiarity before turning away, already moving on.

“No,” Johnny spits, the word flying from his mouth before he can even fully register what Graves has just told him. His lip curls at just the thought, and he feels the saliva in his mouth thickening.

Graves stops in his tracks, throwing a look of confusion and annoyance over his shoulder. “No? C’mon, Officer, I know you want to go home, but just suck up the extra hour-”

“No,” Johnny repeats, his voice a little too loud and a little too harsh in the otherwise silent room. “I’m clocking out. Find someone else.”

Graves turns fully towards them now, eyes narrowing when he sees Johnny’s resolve. He picks up on Gaz’s confusion beside him, but the other man shifts closer and Johnny knows he’s on his side.

“You don’t get to say no to something like this, MacTavish.” Graves’ voice has taken on a harsher edge, and it’s the most authoritative Johnny’s heard the man since he got the job. Still, it’s not anywhere near intimidating enough to convince him.

Johnny hikes his chin in the air a bit, glaring down his nose at his CO. “Overtime is optional, right? I’m not taking it. My shift ended ten minutes ago. I’m going home.”

Graves shakes his head before turning and stepping away. “I’ll have to tell the warden. Not a good impression to make in your first week, rook. You hated looking at Ghost’s ugly ass that much, huh?” He scoffs like Johnny’s a fool, and lets the door slam shut behind him.

Johnny ducks away from Gaz before they can walk out to the parking lot together and hugs the grimey toilet bowl in the staff bathroom, losing what little lunch he’d been able to stomach. The sky is dark with rain clouds when he steps outside.

———————————————————————

The next day, Johnny is stopped by the warden himself before he can even clock in. 

“MacTavish,” Shepherd grunts, barely leaning out of his office. “Come see me.”

“I need to clock in, sir,” Johnny says, gesturing to the nearly broken machine set on an old folding table.

“See me first,” Shepherd says, ducking into his office without any other explanation.

Johnny’s knee is miles better than it had been the day before, but it’s still more difficult than it should be to cover his limp as he heads to Shepherd’s office. The brace he’s worn the last few days helps somewhat, but really only helps keep him from getting stiff or overextending.

“Close the door behind you, son,” Shepherd says when Johnny joins him, already settled behind his desk. He mimics the same position he had when Johnny had first sat in front of him - leaned back, hands folded over his stomach, chin tilted towards his chest.

“Am I in trouble, sir?” Johnny asks after shutting the door, lowering himself slowly into the uncomfortable chair. He can’t help but wonder if it would’ve been smarter to stay standing, if this is a we won’t need you here again sort of meeting that he’ll want to get out quickly.

“Not yet,” Shepherd says after a heavy silence, tilting his head to the side. “Graves tells me you refused overtime last night.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And why is that?”

He manages not to flinch, but just barely. “I was tired, sir. Just wanted to get home and get some rest.”

Shepherd’s expression stays flat, but there’s an unimpressed spark in his eye. “And it’s got absolutely nothing to do with what your overtime task was, then?”

Johnny wants to bristle, wants to bite back, but he keeps himself under control. “I find inmate Riley… unpleasant to be around. To put it lightly. Sir.”

Shepherd scoffs, rolling his eyes and leaning forward. “Every damn person in this prison is unpleasant to be around, boy. That doesn’t mean you blow off orders and come and go whenever you please.”

Now Johnny does sit a little straighter in his chair, insulted. “I’ve stayed for my entire shift every day I’ve worked for you.”

“That’s not much to brag about, MacTavish, you haven’t even been here half a week.”

Johnny takes a deep breath, reminding himself just how badly he needs this job. “I’m not required to take overtime, sir, and I believe my job performance has been satisfactory otherwise. Is that all?”

Shepherd’s eyes narrow, and Johnny knows they’re both thinking the same thing - were they still in the military, that kind of talk from a subordinate wouldn’t fly. But despite their shared past, they’re not in that environment any more - Johnny’s behavior isn’t insuboridnate here, and they both know it.

Shepherd takes a long moment to respond, setting his still-linked hands on his desk and leaning his weight onto them.  “No. You’re right in saying that overtime isn’t required. But I’m looking for employees who show dedication to their job and an ambition to grow in this career. So far, I’m not getting either of those things from you. I need guards who are willing to go the extra mile, not guards who can’t stay an hour after their shift to watch one goddamn man shower.”

Johnny takes a deep, stabilizing breath. Shepherd's tone is harsh, mean, and damn near identical to every CO Johnny had in the service. Before he can argue his case, the warden speaks again.

“Listen, I understand that you’re still adjusting to civilian life. I’m not cruel.” He spreads his hads in front of him, open and inviting. “I’ll give you grace. But I need men who are willing to listen when I give them an order. If that’s not you, then I think it’s best you start looking for another job.”

Johnny’s eyes shut for a moment against his will, and the breath that’s punched out of him has a distinctly defeated air to it. “Alright. Alright, I understand what you’re saying, sir.” He swallows thickly, working the words past his throat. “It won’t happen again.”

Shepherd nods, something vaguely understanding in his expression. “Good. Overtime is time and a half pay, so you’ll be well-compensated.”

Well-compensated. The words sound vile in Johnny’s mind, and he wants to kick and scream and say nothing could compensate for what that man did to me .

“Is that all, sir?”

“Yes. Dismissed, Officer.”

Johnny nods, standing and taking quick steps to the door.

“MacTavish?” Shepherd calls out, just before his hand lands on the doorknob.

Johnny doesn’t turn before responding. “Yes, sir?”

“It’ll get easier, son.”

Now Johnny turns, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Shepherd is leaning back in his chair again, but now there’s something almost pitying in his expression. Something vaguely sympathetic.

Johnny leaves the office without responding. He worries if he opens his mouth, he’ll just start screaming.

———————————————————————

Overtime doesn’t get any easier. In fact, every day Johnny’s forced to watch Ghost shower it gets more and more difficult to ignore the voice inside his head screaming to run, regardless of all the arguments he’s made that tell him he has to stay.

The first day back, he’d tried to tase Ghost when the other man came toward him. He’d had his baton in one hand, the taser in the other, but he’d quickly learned that Ghost’s sheer size made him an almost impossible opponent to fight - the taser was knocked out of his hand before he could’ve even reached Ghost with it, and the baton went just as quickly. 

Johnny had thrown a sloppy punch towards Ghost’s face and had only gotten a mean laugh in return. 

“Got a little more fight in you today, huh?” Riley had hissed, their faces pressed so close together that Johnny could feel his breath. “You can kick and scream all you want, boy, but this still ends the same way.”

The second day, he’d thought about not going into the shower and instead standing in the hallway and getting the drop on Ghost. But he’d glanced up and seen a little blinking red light, a camera, in the corner between the wall and the ceiling and knew that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself were he to lose, and Ghost assaulted him on camera. So he followed the priosner into the showers, feeling like a man sent to the gallows.

He’d tried to bite Riley’s dick before he could choke on it that day. At the first scrape of teeth, Ghost had shoved his thumbs into Johnny’s mouth and hooked them between his molars, holding his head still like that instead of by the hair. Johnny had nearly choked on his own vomit, and his lips were numb for what felt like hours after.

The third day, Johnny kneels before Riley can knock him down. He’s already worried something is seriously wrong with his bad knee, and Ghost hadn’t spared it at all. Gaz had asked if he was alright that morning after seeing him limp, and had offered to bring a knee brace he kept at home - Johnny hadn’t bothered to tell him he was already weaing one. He can’t afford to take a day off because he can’t walk, so he kneels and pretends the small submission doesn’t choke him.

Defeat is bitter on his tongue as Johnny watches surprise mingle with satisfaction when Ghost watches him lower himself. He only stays on one knee, unwilling to put any weight whatsoever on his right knee, and Ghost - miraculously - allows it. 

When he stands in front of Johnny and strokes himself to full hardness, he mutters quietly, “Knew you were a fuckin’ faggot.”

Johnny’s flinch is hidden by his reaction to Ghost’s cock being unceremoniously stuffed into his mouth. This time once he’s finished himself off and made sure to let every drop of his come drip down Johnny’s throat, he steps to the side to relieve himself instead of using him as a urinal. Johnny’s almost ashamed of how grateful he finds himself feeling.

On Sunday, his first day off, Johnny leaves his bed exactly once. He gets up, pisses, and lays right back down with a pillow elevating his leg. He sleeps fitfully for nearly 12 hours and wakes up nauseous, only just choking back bile before ruining his floors. His Nan calls twice and leaves two voicemails when he doesn’t answer.

On Monday, Ghost is let out of solitary confinement.

———————————————————————

A full day of rest has done Johnny’s knee a world full of good.

While still not fully recovered, he doesn’t feel sick when he tries to walk without a limp anymore. The brace helps him with that, and with Riley coming out of solitary Johnny can’t help but hope that he’ll have a chance to truly recover a bit.

He tells himself that he can put his hellish first week in the past now. Ghost is out of solitary, which means Johnny will have a better shot at avoiding him and sticking with the other guards.

Monday morning, Graves reassigns him from genpop to protective custody. It’s the first time he’ll be separated from Gaz for any length of time, but Johnny’s too high on his sudden distance from Ghost to care too much. If anything, this gives him a better chance to bond with other guards.

His hopes don’t quite come true - all the guards working in protective custody are quiet, with no interest in talking to each other, let alone a new guy. The silence isn’t unbearable for the first few hours, but Johnny already knows that multiple days spent with people so unwilling to respond to anything he says would drive him crazy.

It’s after lunch, when he leads ten prisoners from the cafeteria back to their cells with another guard tailing them, that everything goes wrong.

While Johnny almost has the layout for the prison memorized, there are still moments he gets turned around or confused. And having only been to the section of the prison with PC cells once - that same morning - Johnny’s not the most confident on how to get them back. He takes a left turn instead of a right, and for some godforsaken reason, the other guard doesn’t correct him.

Instead of turning into the large protective custody dayroom where prisoners spend their time when they’re not locked in their cells, Johnny turns into the general population dayroom.

He hardly has time to realize what a monumental mistake he’s made before he and every person following behind him is swarmed by prisoners. 

Johnny’s knocked to the ground by one of the largest men as he dives for someone behind him, and his wrist is nearly crushed beneath a filthy white shoe when he reaches for his taser. The prisoners all but stampede him in an effort to swarm the men from protective custody, and Johnny can hardly see through the sea of legs.

Someone trips over his good knee and falls to the ground beside him. On instinct, Johnny lunges for him, trying to push himself up off the floor in the space the other man has created. But before he can get more than one foot under him, that same prisoner tackles him back to the ground and wraps a hand around his throat.

This time, when Johnny swings his baton at the man’s side full force, he falls to the ground and curls into a ball. The commotion around him is nearly deafening, and only growing louder and louder as guards get involved to try and pull the prisoners off of one another. He can see several men fall to the ground, shouting from the pain of being tased.

Johnny’s just barely managed to get to his feet when the prisoner in front of him throws himself to the side, and he only has a split second to register that the black blur swinging towards his head is a baton before everything goes black.

———————————————————————

Johnny wakes, hours later, to a dull pain in his head and a parched throat. 

He groans as he rolls his head, tongue darting out to try and wet his lips as he squeezes his eyes tight against the pain. His mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his tongue feels swollen. While his head feels like there’s a person trying to crack him open down the middle, there’s something soft around the edges of his consciousness, something that makes him feel like he’s floating on a cloud instead of laying on a thin mattress.

As more of his senses start coming back, he realizes where he recognizes the soft feeling from - his last stay in the hospital. The fuzzy feeling in his head, the total lack of any emotion that isn’t contentedness, the steady beeping to his side, and the way his bad knee feels completely normal all tell Johnny that he’s higher than a kite on pain meds.

His nose scrunches when he tries to open his eyes for the first time, some uncomfortable crust making them itchy and heavy. He lifts one hand to clumsily paw at his face, only making him itch more as he rubs the crust into his own skin.

Somewhere in the room, he hears a door open and close quietly. He blinks quickly to try and clear his vision, but can only recognize the man when he steps right to Johnny’s bedside.

“Ghost…?” He murmurs, his voice cracking. 

The man above him hums quietly. He sets one hand on the railing of Johnny’s bed and leans in close, bringing his face into full focus as he hovers less than a foot above Johnny’s face. One of his big hands comes up to Johnny’s face, swiping roughly over his eyes and clearing the gunk from them.

“Well, look’it you,” he says, voice low and quiet. “High as a kite. Got yourself in some trouble, huh Officer?”

Johnny scowls - or well, he means too, but he can’t quite feel his face move into the expression - and clumsily bats Ghost away. The older man stands back up with a quiet laugh, reaching to the side and above Johnny for something.

“Not m’fault,” he slurs, trying to twist and follow Ghost’s arm. “Should’a… shouldn’ta… mmph.” His voice trails off, whatever defense he’d been about to use floating away from him. “‘S not m’fault.”

“Yeah, you said that already,” Ghost says. Johnny can see now that he’s holding a clipboard, scanning over the information and flipping between the top page and the one beneath it. “John MacTavish, hm? Johnny. Fits you.”

“Tha’s me,” Johnny says, and now he can really feel the way his lips tug up. “Only Nan calls me tha’ though.”

“What, Johnny?”

“Hmm.” 

Ghost is silent for a long moment, and Johnny’s eyes begin to droop again. He feels obscenely comfortable, more comfortable than he even does in his own home these days. Even with Riley looming over him, he can’t bring himself to feel much more than tired .

He can hear Ghost rummaging around beside him, but doesn’t bother to look and see what’s going on. His eyelids flutter when a moment later the bed sinks with Ghost’s weight, but even that is hardly enough for Johnny to bother moving. 

“Hey,” Ghost says, his voice a tad louder than it had been before. Johnny moans low in his throat, tossing his head on the pillow in a distinctly whiney way. 

“Hey,” Ghost repeats again, and a moment later there’s a sharp tapping at the side of his face, a calloused palm clearly trying to get his attention.

“Whaaat?” Johnny groans, tilting his head away from the hand and only opening his eyes enough to glare at Ghost. He bats at the hand and manages to grip it loosely, tugging it away from his face. He hardly notices when it shifts to rest over his pec, fingertips resting high on his side.

“Don't pass out on me, now,” Ghost commands. “I think this’ll be more fun if you’re awake.”

“What’re ya…” Johnny slurs, trailing off when Ghost turns closer towards him and sets both hands on his hips. “What’re you… doin’?”

“Quiet.”

Johnny makes a pouty sound, but he doesn’t move to stop Riley as he hooks his hands in Johnny’s pants, tugging harshly a few times until they rest around his knees. He leaves his boxers on, takes a second to snap the elastic band against Johnny’s sensitive stomach and huff a laugh when Johnny squirms.

Ghost makes a small sound that Johnny doesn’t put any effort into identifying, and then suddenly cups his cunt with a large hand. The way Johnny squeaks would be embarrassing, if he still had the capacity to be embarrassed. Instead he only squirms in place, trying to wriggle up and getting nowhere.

“Don’t tell me…” Ghost trails off, his fingers burrowing between Johnny’s lips and feeling him up thoroughly. “No kiddin’. You’re not even a real faggot, Johnny?”

The sound that slips from Johnny’s lips is pathetic, and he shoots Ghost the best glare he can manage while the machine beside them slowly beeps more and more quickly. “D’nt call me tha’...”

Ghost raises an eyebrow, shifting up and to the side so he’s between Johnny’s legs. “You’re not a fag then? Got a nice fat cunt here, MacTavish, you tellin’ me you’re a woman?”

“Nooooo,” he moans, trying to shut his knees but only squeezing Ghost closer. “‘M not… ‘m not either….”

The sound that comes from Ghost is distinctly mocking, and Johnny’s chest tightens. “Really? I can feel you gettin’ all wet even through the boxers, you’re one of them.”

Johnny hums a negative, digging his head back into the pillow. Ghost ignores him completely, and tugs his hand away for only a second before stuffing it fully down the front of his boxers. “C’mon then, Johnny, you answer me - you a faggot, or a woman?”

Johnny’s breath grows heavier as Ghost grinds his palm against his t-cock, hips working in small motions as his body takes over. He moans a little, one hand lifting to grip Ghost’s forearm.

There’s another, sharper sensation in his face, the other cheek this time. It hardly registers as painful - more as rude - but it’s enough for Johnny to blink up at Ghost. 

“Don’t keep me waiting,” he growls, flipping his hand to pinch Johnny’s cock between two of his knuckles, squeezing until Johnny wheezes.

“F-fag! A fag,” He gasps, just barely remembering what Ghost had asked. “Not-not a woman, y’can’t… can’t call me tha’...”

Ghost coos, lessening the pressure between his two fingers. “Cute, Johnny, but I’ll call you whatever I please.”

Before Johnny can gather enough focus to reply, Ghost twists his hand again and stuffs two of his thick fingers inside of Johnny’s leaking hole with no warning.

Johnny keens, just barely louder than the suddenly racing beep-beep-beep echoing in the room. When he tries to close his legs again, tries to hide from Ghost’s assault, the older man tugs one of his knees higher on his side, leaning forward and forcing Johnny to stay spread.

There’s no real discomfort or pain - either because he’s slick with his body’s betrayal or because of the painkillers, Johnny’s not sure - and when Ghost angles his palm the right way, fingers stroking just so inside of him, Johnny melts into the pillows with a whorish moan.

“Oh, is that it? That the spot?”

Johnny feels like there’s something he should be upset about, something in Ghost’s tone that scrapes at his mind, but he can’t think past the warmth slowly spreading through his abdomen. The best he manages is a quiet sound of agreement, hips working in lazy thrusts to try and get more more more. He hardly notices when Ghost slips a third finger inside him.

“Open your eyes, Johnny, c’mon.”

It’s only the sudden fourth finger, the slight hint of a burn at his center, that has Johnny blearily blinking up at Ghost. His fingers tighten only painfully in the sheets as he tries desperately to grind himself to orgasm. Riley hooks Johnny’s leg a little higher on his hip, pressing his hips to the back of his thighs.

“There y’are,” he grunts, leaning close so his face is all Johnny can see. “Fuck, you’re gone, aren’t ya? Bet you can’t even tell I’m stretchin’ you. Waste of my fuckin’ time then, huh?”

“N-” Johnny hiccups, his back arching as Ghost’s fingers slip from his hole, moving instead to undo his own belt. “No, please, y’can’t…”

“Can’t what?” Ghost asks sharply, snapping his belt off and pulling his fat cock out. “Y’don’t even know what you’re beggin’ for, little cock dumb slut. Not good for much else than bein’ my hole, huh?”

“Stop,” Johnny gasps, trying to coordinate his limbs enough to at least try and shove Ghost off, only really succeeding in resting his hands on the larger man’s biceps. “Tha’s… tha’s fuckin’ mean, y’can’t say that…”

Ghost laughs as he shoves himself inside of Johnny, no mercy and no sympathy. Johnny’s back arches high off the bed, his head thrown back and his eyes screwed shut as Ghost’s hips press flush with Johnny’s thighs in just seconds.

He can’t feel anything but warmth and pressure. He’s reduced into nothing more than a writhing body and his fucked full cunt. His breaths shudder out of him in sharp bursts as his body reckons with something he can’t fully feel.

“Fuck,” Ghost hisses from above him. “Tight little bitch.”

Johnny keens high in his throat, tears springing to his eyes at the terrible mix of degradation pleasure. He feels like he’s drowning in sensation, like he’s desperately trying to keep his head above the water during a hurricane.

He fully stops breathing when Ghost pulls out the first time, struggles to get any air into his lungs when he’s slowly filled again. The tears drip down his temples, mixing with the sweat already dampening his skin.

“Bet you hate this, huh?” Riley pants, hips beginning to truly work against him now, the slap of it loud in the dark room. “You love your little fights, love hissin’ and spittin’ and tellin’ me how much you don’t want it.”

Johnny tries to lick his own lips and wet them, but doesn't manage to tuck his tongue back into his mouth. He’s left panting like a dog, drool dripping down his chin. Ghost nearly growl when he sees, his thumb landing solidly on Johnny’s tongue and holding it down.

“Almost had me convinced,” he says quietly, like a secret shared between just them. “Never saw you get hard. Thought you really might not be a fag, thought a little fuckin’ brat like you havin’ lips like this was just another cruel joke.”

He huffs, somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. “But that wasn’t it, huh? Nah, whatever bastard made you just knew a whore like you would need three holes. Two wouldn’t have been enough, huh? No, whiney little sluts can’t have any less than three.”

Ghost’s words float in and out of Johnny’s head, dripping into his ears and his mouth and immediately melting away. He’s consumed with the burning pleasure in his center, able to think of nothing but reaching the crest of sensation he can practically see.

“Pleathe-!”

“Please what?” Ghost growls, shifting forward. His elbows rest on either side of Johnny’s neck, the smaller man’s knees hiked high on his side, and he starts to really drill into Johnny. “Need it harder, huh Johnny? Want me to get you off, when you’re all pretty and drugged and can’t do shit to stop me?

Johnny whines, trying to draw his tongue out from under Ghost’s thumb. The bigger man only grunts, leaning forward and spitting a wad of saliva onto his tongue. Then he lets Johnny close his mouth, letting him swallow.

“Yeah, there you go,” he breathes, staring between Johnny’s lips and the column of his throat with an intentness Johnny can’t even begin to understand, not with the way his pace doesn’t stutter at all. “Gonna fill you up from both ends, make sure you fuckin’ feel this tomorrow. Might fuck your mouth when you pass out, make sure you’ll fuckin’ breathe me.”

Johnny’s got no idea what’s being said to him, too lost in the way Ghost’s stomach rubs against his cock, the way his body is covered completely, the way his thighs clench around Ghost as tightly as possible and yet the man doesn’t slow at all. Even with his mouth closed, he still drools, can’t stop moaning and panting as Riley forces a space for himself.

“Yeah, just like that, tighten up for me. C’mon, c’mon-”

Johnny’s wail nearly drowns out the way Ghost eggs him on, his body bursting into flames as he’s finally shoved off that edge. He feels everything and nothing, raw and numb, comfortable and wound so tight he’s sure he’s about to snap in half. His throat aches from his volume, but he can do nothing but grab on tight to Ghost’s shoulders and try to ride out his orgasm.

He can’t even tell when Ghost finally comes, only really registers a loud grunt in his ear and the way his hips slow to a stop inside of him. 

Johnny’s already fading when Riley pulls out, would hardly have noticed if he hadn’t seen Ghost standing fully from the bed. He can’t move from where Ghost has left him, his knees splayed wide and leaving his cunt bared to the room. 

He’s too tired to open his eyes, too high on painkillers and ecstasy to care that he can’t. Before long, he’s falling asleep to the obnoxious sound of his heart rate monitor slowing. 

———————————————————————

When Johnny wakes up the next morning, he’s sore and confused.

“Wha’...” he breathes, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position and rubbing a hand over his face. His head throbs, but that’s far from his biggest concern as he takes stock of his body.

“Oh good, you’re up,” a familiar voice says, and once he clears the sleep dust from his eyes Johnny can see Gaz lounging casually in a chair next to his bed. “Good timing, too, Graves just left.

“Graves?” Johnny asks, clearing his throat when he hears how raspy he sounds. “What the hell happened?”

Gaz raises an eyebrow, leaning forward to grab a watter bottle from the small table beside the hospital bed and offer it to Johnny. There’s a terrible taste in his mouth, and Johnny gratefully takes the bottle and sips from it. “You really don’t remember?”

Johnny’s eyebrows furrow, and he thinks back to the day before.

It all comes back to him quickly once he can work past the pain in his head - his new assignment, the unfriendly other guards, his stupid mistake, and the ensuing brawl. What’s harder to remember is what happened after, what happened when he woke up to a dark room and a guest who’s face he can’t quite see.

There are vague impressions of a man - a large man, a heavy man, he can remember what he felt like on top of Johnny - and the dull ache between Johnny’s legs gives him a good idea of what the man did to him.

It’s hard to keep his breathing even.

Gaz doesn’t seem to notice, rambling on. “Graves is sayin’ you did it intentionally, said some real dumb shit about you, mate. You’re damn lucky you’ve somehow got the warden’s favor - I’ve been here a few years now, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone make a mistake like this and keep their job.”

Johnny groans, throwing himself back onto the mattress. “Thanks, Gaz. Very comforting, you are.”

Gaz laughs, patting Johnny heavily on the shoulder. “Yeah, well, they don’t pay me for my bedside manner. C’mon, they’re kicking you out.”

Johnny lifts his head enough to look at the other man. “Kickin’ me out? Really?”

Gaz gives him a don’t start look, standing and gathering a bag Johnny hadn’t noticed before. “They already let you stay overnight, mate. You’re lucky they gave you a bed at all. Plus, warden gave you the rest of the week off for recovery. You’ve got no room to complain, my friend”

It takes a bit for Johnny to feel steady enough to leave, longer for he and Gaz to make it outside of the prison. He gets nasty looks from several of their coworkers, but he lets their clear irritation slide off his back. As long as he’s got a job, he couldn’t care less what the others think of him.

It’s difficult to get Gaz to let Johnny go home on his own, but once he promises to take it easy for the next few days - and overplays his own exhaustion just a bit - the other officer lets him go after exchanging numbers and making him promise to text if anything changed.

Johnny can’t quite work up the nerve to check between his thighs until he’s in the privacy of his tiny shower. 

He probes at his sore hole with tentative fingers, wincing at the slight sting of pain and resting his forehead against the tile. He only opens his eyes for long enough to recognize the liquid coating his fingers before he lurches out of the shower and kneels above his toilet.

He’s not sure what it says about him that he doesn’t actually vomit - is he just getting used to the constant violation, or is there too much else wrong with him to feel overwhelmed by this?

He doesn’t think about it for long, just lets his stomach settle, quickly cleans himself in the shower, and then buries himself beneath his thin blanket and throws himself into the oblivion of sleep.

———————————————————————

The first day Johnny goes back to work, he decides he has nothing left to do but resign.

It’s a choice he agonizes over every single day he spends cooper up in his small mobile home. This job had come as a blessing, and had only come in the first place because he’d been owed a favor by John Price who’d called in a favor of his own. For all intents and purposes, he should’ve never been lucky enough to get here.

And he’s about to throw it all away.

It’s hard not to feel disappointed in himself, to not say suck it up and get over it . But Johnny’s nightmares have shifted from explosions and gunfire to a weight over his chest and a cock down his throat. He wakes up soaked in sweat and panting, slick between the thighs but shaking with fear. He gets flashes of that night in the med wing sometimes, images of Ghost hovering above him, the feeling of something on his tongue and something else in his cunt.

He can’t handle another violation. 

So walking to the bus stop, the whole ride over, and the walk in, Johnny is thinking about how he’ll manage to quit without offering to serve his two weeks. If worse comes to worst, he figures there’s nothing anybody can do if he just stops showing up.

When he stops by Shepherd’s office and asks for a meeting, he’s confident he won’t even spend an hour in the building. That confidence is crushed the moment Shepherd looks at him with pity instead of frustration.

“MacTavish…” he sighs. “I know what you’re trying to get out of.”

Johnny’s eyebrows furrow. “Sir?”

Shepherd sighs, and leans forward to bring something up on his computer. “The only places without cameras are the shower and the cells. Everything else in this building, I see.”

There’s a pit forming in Johnny’s chest, but he can’t do anything but say, “I’m not sure what you’re implying, sir.”

The look Shepherd sends him says yes you are, and the man turns the screen of his computer around to face Johnny.

It’s… it’s him, in a hospital bed, with Ghost over him. Johnny’s jaw drops open as he watches his legs get hiked up higher on the other man’s chest, the bulk of him covering Johnny’s cunt, but the spread of his legs doing nothing to hide the slick dripping from him.

The video is silent but horrifying. Here’s what Johnny has forgotten, what’s slowly been coming back to him in his dreams, and it’s being played for him by his boss. 

“Sir…” he says, unsure of what he’ll say but knowing it has to be something. “I don’t…”

“You can’t quit,” Shepherd says, straightforward and with no bend.

Johnny can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. “I have to.”

Shepherd lays his hand flat on the desk, making just enough noise to startle Johnny. “No, son. You’ll be staying here. If you don’t, I’ll take that video right to the police myself and have them charge you with assault.

Johnny’s eyes fly to Shepherd’s, his brows arched high on his head. “Assault? Me? But- look at the video! I was injured and high off my ass!”

“You’re also an officer, with power over the prisoners.”

“Power? Look at what the bastard did to me!” He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth, wants to break the computer screen so no one ever sees that clip again instead of bringing more attention back to it. 

Shepherd winces, very intentionally not looking at the screen. “An argument could be made that you… encouraged him. You’re in the position of power, and that makes you at fault.” 

Johnny grits his teeth, glaring. “I was drugged and-and… well, if anyone was assaulted it certainly wasn’t him.”

Shepherd leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his stomach. “You can’t have it both ways, MacTavish.”

“I- What?”

“Either you’re a man or not. Look at the size of you, son. You think anyone will believe that you couldn’t have fought him off?”

Johnny’s speechless, unable to do anything but stare at Shepherd, mouth gaping.

“Or you’re a woman, and no one would be shocked to hear a tragic story about a female officer being overtaken and assaulted by her male prisoner. Is that you? That the story you want to tell?”

“I’m not a fuckin’ woman.”

Shepherd’s eyes narrow. “Watch your language with me. Those are the only two stories you could sell in court.”

“They’re not -”

“Yes, they are,” Shepherd hisses, suddenly more incensed as he leans forward and lowers his voice. “You don’t have a goddamn choice here, MacTavish. You keep this job, nobody else needs to know you fucked Riley. You leave, I’ll make sure every person you’ve ever looked at sees the goddamn video of it.”

Johnny reels back in his seat, hands shaking and mouth bone dry. He can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, can’t believe that this is the point his life has brought him to. “Why? ”

Shepherd sinks back in his seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose and suddenly looking ten years older. “Because he doesn’t want you to quit. Riley and I have a deal, and it’s a damn fragile one. He’s fixated on you for whatever reason - I let you walk, all my hardwork with him goes down the drain.”

Johnny’s teeth grind in the back of his mouth. “Sounds more like your problem than mine.”

Shepherd glares. “It became your problem when you let him fuck you.”

“I didn’t let -”

“Video, MacTavish. I can see exactly what happened.”

Johnny’s face flames, and he squirms in his seat. “It wasn’t… I didn’t want to…”

Shepherd’s voice is almost mean when he says, “Didn’t seem to fight that hard.”

Johnny nearly flinches, and doesn’t say another word. 

“Listen,” Shepherd sighs, turning the computer around and finally running off that horrible video while seemingly doing his best to look at as little of it as possible. “The job pays well. You’re good at it - well… you could be good at it, if you tried a little harder.”

There’s a part of Johnny that’s offended, but the rest of him is too baffled by this entire meeting to do anything but listen.

“If Riley wants to…” Shepherd winces, the tiniest flush coloring his cheeks. “If he wants to be in a relationship with you, let him.”

“Relationship,” Johnny hisses, lip curled in disgust at the word. “Is that what you think-?”

“I don’t give a damn what he wants from you, MacTavish,” Shepherd cuts him off, glaring. “You’ll put up with it, and if necessary, you’ll do it with a smile. Either that, or I make your life much, much more difficult going forward. Do we have an understanding?”

Shepherd’s tone makes Johnny want to leap forward and claw the skin from his face. Not quite mocking, not quite pitying, not quite frustrated, but all authoritative and pissy. Again, Johnny is reminded of how much he hated men like this in the military.

After a long moment of silence, Shepherd sighs and holds out a hand. “C’mon, son. We both know you’re staying. This can be as easy or as hard as you make it.” He pushes his hand a little further out, like he’s expecting a handshake.

Johnny ignores him completely, storms from the office, and slams the door on his way out.

———————————————————————

The next weeks pass in a blur.

Whatever hope Johnny had of having a normal life post-military, of getting closer to Gaz and maybe even other officers, is well and truly crushed after Graves informs him he’ll be permanently assigned to Ghost from then on. 

Johnny refuses to look at Gaz long enough to see the man’s expression of sympathy, but he hears it in the quick gasp and the little rumble of sound.

Ghost doesn’t quite smirk or smile when Johnny walks up to him on that first day back, but there’s a smugness radiating off him that makes Johnny scowl.

It’s lunch when Riley calls him over for the first time. He doesn’t make a show of it, only flicks his gaze over to Johnny long enough to make eye contact and raises a hand to beckon him.

Johnny pretends he doesn’t see at first, shifts and stares at a wall. Ghost doesn’t let it go, and shouts, “MacTavish!” across the room after a moment of silence. 

Graves glares at him and jerks his head over with a sort of what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you look.

He can’t help but feel a little like a kid when he storms toward Ghost, unable to keep the frustration hidden when he feels like he’s drowning in it. “What?”

Ghost gives him an unimpressed look. “Watch it. You’ll come when I call you.”

Johnny grits his teeth. “Course, sir,” he bites sarcastically.

Riley’s lip twitch, at that only pisses him off more. Ghost shifts back in his seat, the tray in front of him already wiped clean - the food looks disgusting to Johnny, but Ghost had eaten so quickly you’d think it was the best thing he’d ever had. 

“You think that’s as embarrassing as I can make things for you?” He asks quietly, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward. “I could do anything I wanted to you right now, and not a man in this room would stop me.”

Johnny’s lip curls. “What do you want?”

“I want you to mind your manners when you speak to me,” Ghost snaps, his voice rising just a bit. Johnny’s sure he’s not loud enough for anyone else to have heard, but he shifts uneasily anyway. 

“Fine,” he hisses. “Now what do you want?”

Riley doesn’t quite look satisfied, but he drops it. “I’m doin’ you a favor here, Johnny. You rather I not tell you the rules, let you stumble all blind into a punishment in front of anyone lucky enough to be nearby?”

Johnny’s head jerks down a bit in instinctual frustration. “Okay. Alright, fine. Just get it over with.”

Ghost hums low in his throat. “You’ll look at me when I’m speaking to you. Start now.”

Johnny bites his tongue as he raises his eyes, glaring into Ghost’s with all the anger he can muster. The man only smirks, murmuring a “Good boy,” in that tone that Johnny still hears in his dreams sometimes.

“I want you by my side unless I’m in my cell - then, you’ll stand outside when you’re still on duty. If you need to be somewhere else for some reason, you’ll come immediately when I call.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ dog,” Johnny can’t help but argue.

“You’re whatever I tell you to be. I ask you to crawl behind me on fours, and you’ll do it - happily . Or are you so eager for that little video to make it’s way to good ol’ Graves’ pocket?”

Johnny’s face flushes, and he inches closer, ducking down as if they haven’t already been speaking quietly enough for no one else to hear. “You can’t- you can’t show that to anyone. I don’t know what you have on the warden, but-”

“Exactly,” Ghost cuts him off, glaring. “You don’t know. And you won’t, because it’s not information for you. All you need to do is fuckin’ listen, and you aren’t doing a good job of it so far.”

Johnny grits his teeth, straightening. “What’s your next rule, then?”

Riley considers him for a second, then leans back on the metal bench. “Next rule is you’ll speak to me with respect. I outranked you in the military, and I outrank you here. You’ll watch your-”

“Wait,” Johnny interrupts, brow furrowed. “You were in the military?”

“Don’t interrupt,” Ghost scolds, glaring. “But yes. Not with you, but I was. Made it up to Lieutenant before I got out.”

It shouldn’t change anything for Johnny, the revelation that he and Ghost have a common background. And it doesn’t - not really - but there’s something in his mind that just… shifts, a bit, after learning that he and Ghost have similar roots, that they were maybe even in the same place at different times. Somehow the idea doesn’t quite fit with everything else he knows about Ghost. 

“But regardless, I won’t tolerate a brat. You’ll behave and watch your mouth when you’re with me. Understood?”

“Fine.”

“Fine…?”

Johnny’s lip curls and his hands tighten into fists at his side. “Fine, sir.”

“Good boy,” Ghost rumbles with a smirk. “You won’t touch yourself without permission. That’s your third rule.”

Johnny can feel his face flaming, and he ducks his chin close to his chest, shoulders hunching in an attempt to hide himself. “What? ”

Ghost’s smile is ugly on his face, wide and showing off crooked teeth behind thin lips. “That pretty pussy belongs to me now, and I don’t want your grubby hands on my property.”

“I’m not- my hands aren’t-” Johnny huffs, shaking his head a bit until a strand of loose hair falls into his eyeline, then pushing it away with a small sound of frustration. “I’m not your property.”

“Oh, yes you are. But there’s no point in arguin’ with you, you’ll understand soon enough. That’s it for now - we’ll start you off with the simple stuff so you don’t fuck up too soon.”

“Oh, thank you,” Johnny rolls his eyes sarcastically, back to glaring at the table.

Ghost grunts, smacking a hand beside his tray with just enough force for Johnny to jump. “What the hell did I just say about the attitude?”

Johnny stares at him wide-eyed for a second, but quickly relaxes into his frustration. He swallows his pride and says, “Sorry.”

Ghost narrows his eyes, glaring up at Johnny. “You’ll make it up to me later,” he decides. He stands from his seat with little warning, nudging the tray closer to Johnny. “Drop the tray off, then follow me to the rec room.”

He can feel every single pair of eyes on him as he walks to the busboy, and Johnny can’t help but think that he’s never once in his life felt this much scrutiny before. But he ignores every one of them, his eyes carefully forward and just slightly unfocused so he doesn’t have to see the way their heads turn.

He follows Ghost to the rec room, his pride in tatters. 

And that’s where it begins. The indignities only get worse.

Ghost informs him slowly of more rules. Johnny’s never to sit near Ghost, only to stand (sitting is a reward, and one he finds quickly is very rare). He’s only to look Ghost in the eye when responding to him, and never to look anyone else in the eye when he’s shadowing Ghost (“You’re on my time, you won’t give a spec of your attention to anyone that’s not me.”). 

And the sexual favors… Johnny is just glad they’re kept private. Ghost only ever touches him when they’re alone, and they’re only truly alone during Ghost’s solo showers and when he tugs Johnny into his cell for the last hour of his shift.

The taste of Ghost’s cum becomes unfortunately very familiar, and the bruises on Johnny’s knees never quite get enough time to fade before new ones appear. The only small blessing he can see is that Ghost never pisses on him anymore. 

He still fucks Johnny’s mouth in the shower, but he’ll take any amount of skull-fucking over the humiliation of being treated as nothing more than a urinal. Even after weeks of nothing but blowjobs being forced on him, he still tenses for that sour stench after every once.

Johnny also learns that Ghost is - predictably - as mean in bed as he is out of it. Half the time, the bastard isn’t even decent enough to give Johnny a pity orgasm when he assaults him.

He’s also incredibly creative with his dirty talk, and infuriatingly that’s usually what gets Johnny off - when he’s allowed to get off, that is.

Pretty fuckin’ cunt, made to take my cock, huh?

Should keep you tied to the bed, use you as my own goddamn mattress so I can fuck you whenever I want

You’re awful loud today, baby, you want the others to hear you? Hm? Want them to come knockin’ and ask for a turn riding this tight ass?

Nothin’ else in the world compares to a hot hole like this, shit, I’d kill a man to have fucked you when you were a virgin.”

Sometimes Johnny thinks about rubbing himself to completion at home, on the nights when Ghost edged and denied him time and time again and his boxers were sticky with his slick when he took them off. He never quite works up the nerve, though, sure that Ghost would somehow know what he had done and unwilling to face any more severe of a punishment from the prisoner. 

His service to Ghost extends outside of the purely sexual, though. That comes as more of a surprise than it probably should, and there’s something about it that’s more difficult for Johnny to bear.

When Ghost fucks him, it’s a fight. Ghost likes it like that, and Johnny gets to tell himself he tried the best he could to keep the other man’s hands off of him. It’s as close to a win as he can get in this situation, and he forces himself to be okay with that.

But all the little things Ghost expects him to do - serve his food, clean his cell, bring him any book he asks for, give him a damn massage once - they feel more… willing. Like Johnny is choosing to do these things for Ghost. And he knows that he is, technically, but only because he’s terrified of what would happen were he to disobey.

And still, that’s not enough of an excuse to calm his psyche. He goes home to his trailer and feels filthy, showers for so long every night that his water bill has become egregiously high. He picks at his nails constantly now, never quite feels like he gets them fully clean. The thought that his service to Ghost is willing, is consensual, haunts him.

He thinks that’s what Riley enjoys the most - the inner turmoil. Sometimes when he asks Johnny to do something particularly embarrassing, he’ll watch the way his face twists with an expression that can’t be described as anything but gleeful greed. He comes fastest when he threatens to fuck Johnny in front of his coworkers, or when they can hear other voices. Nothing seems to get him off quite like Johnny’s anger and humiliation.

So it should come as no shock that one of his favorite things to make Johnny do is work out with him.

Ghost works out while all the prisoners are in the rec yard, usually monopolizing one machine and scaring off anyone else who comes too close. But because of his deal with the warden (and Johnny curses that man more and more every day), he gets an extra hour outside that no one else does.

Outside of the context of their dynamic, Riley is one of the best trainers Johnny’s ever had. He certainly pushes him harder than anyone else has, and he makes sure they’re both working out all parts of their body.

Unfortunately, he’s more than a little unfair to Johnny. 

He always uses whatever maching he’s picked for that day first, and he never lets Johnny adjust the weight down to his own level. Johnny’s big, stronger undoubtedly than most of his coworkers, and damn proud of it. But he’s not Ghost big, not able to do many reps with the shitton of weight Riley uses.

But that doesn’t matter - Riley tells him to do it, so he does. He’s usually little more than a noodle when he’s done, but he can usually force himself to do at least half of the workout that Riley did.

He always spots Ghost - and does it correctly, no matter how much he wants to strangle the man. It’s probably his favorite act of service Ghost forces onto him, because he sees prisoners helping out other prisoners across the yard every day. Granted no guard is stepping in to spot them, but it’s better than being the only person waiting at the beck and call of another.

So he spots Ghost without complaint, even though the older man never once needs his help. It’s unfortunate, too, because Johnny’s pretty sure he could just pretend to not be strong enough to help the other man if he were to get stuck, but unfortunately he’s not that lucky.

While he spots Ghost, he finds that the favor is almost never returned - not unless Johnny is so weak from the previous day's workout that he can barely do a full rep. 

When they’re doing bench presses, Ghost stands above Johnny’s head, damn near blocking out the sun, and smirks when all he can do is try his absolute hardest to keep the bar from choking him. 

On most days he can manage a pathetic few reps, but there was one day where he really, truly couldn’t do it. He’d been lucky and nobody else had been in the rec yard, but he still remembers it in his dreams sometimes.

Ghost had known before Johnny even sat down that he wouldn’t manage, he could see it in the prisoner’s face. The last few days - their first days working out together - had been hell on his body, and he could barely raise his hand enough to wave, let alone bench press several hundred pounds.

“Ghost…” he had muttered, laying on his back and looking uneasily at the bar above him. “I really don’t think I can-”

“Quiet,” Ghost said, stepping so close that Johnny could see his bulge right above his head. “You’ll be fine. I’m spotting you.”

Johnny can’t help but scowl. “That is not spotting.”

“Well, it’s all your gettin’. Hurry up, the more time you waste here, the longer I’ll keep you after your shift.”

“Shit, okay, okay, I get it,” he said, wrapping his hands around the bar and taking a deep breath. “You swear you’ll-?”

“Johnny.”

“Fine, fine.”

He’d managed a single rep - which was impressive enough for him, quite honestly. But it wasn’t enough for Riley, who grunted a negative and a “Keep going.” when Johnny tried to put the bar back in its place.

“Ghost,” he had panted, on the verge of whining.

“Johnny,” he’d mimicked, voice pitched insultingly high. 

He doesn’t get a full second rep in, only just barely manages to hold the bar above his throat with shaking limbs. His whole body is shaking, and he’s drenched in sweat.

“Riley…” he gasps, teeth clenched so tight he’d be worried about cracking one if he wasn’t so focused on not dying.

“Need some help, Johnny?”

He can’t do much more than grunt an affirmative sound, but for once Ghost doesn’t make him beg. Instead he wraps both hands around the metal bar, and sort of pushes it forward a bit.

“Wha-?” Johnny manages, before he realizes what Ghost has done. He’s trapped him securely beneath the weight - Johnny’s not strong enough to push it away from his chest, and if he moves too much he risks rolling it forward and onto his neck. It’s an incredibly dangerous position to be in, and the fear only makes Johnny shake more.

“There we go,” Ghost says quietly, patting Johnny on the head once before stepping away.

“Ghost?” He gasps, rolling his head to the side as he desperately tracks the other man. “C-c’mon, ye can’t-”

“Don’t waste your breath, Johnny, you’re already panting like a dog,” Ghost scolds, tapping him lightly on the stomach as he passes. He tugs the weight a little further down, and to Johnny’s relief it allows the slightest bit of strain to fade.

Ghost grips him roughly by the knees, forcing them to spread wide on either side of the bench. 

“We’re gonna play a little game, Johnny,” he rumbles, yanking down Johnny’s pants and boxers in two quick tugs. “You finish that rep before Graves calls us in, I’ll let you come. You don’t, I fuck you in front of him.”

“N-no!” Johnny gasps, one leg jerking up as he squirms. His pants are tugged off one ankle, left loose around the other, and he feels sweat dripping from his navel down to his center already. “Y-you can’t.”

Ghost hums, and a thumb parts Johnny’s folds. “Then you better get that bar up, boy.”

Johnny’s sobbing before he even registers Ghost’s mouth on him.

The experience is the very definition of overwhelming. He can hardly breathe with hundreds of pounds resting on his chest, and Ghost’s tongue feels like magic on his cunt. He licks Johnny’s engorged clit, knows just when to wrap his lips around the bundle of nerves and suck. When Johnny gets too close to the edge, when his whimpers turn to whines and his moans pitch up, Ghost ducks to Johnny’s hole and spends time drinking all of his slick.

He has absolutely no idea how long it will be until Graves shows up, and the thought drives Johnny insane. At any moment the other man could walk out and see them, see Johnny pinned and Ghost eating his cunt like he’s starving.

With a gasp at a particularly rough edge, Johnny gets the bar a few inches off his chest. He feels like he’s suffocating when it drops back down.

“Good,” Ghost purrs, one hand lifting from where he’d been holding Johnny’s lips open to stroke his stomach beneath his shirt. “Almost there. Go on, try again f’r me." He sounds drunk on Johnny, his words slurred and muffled. Johnny doesn’t sound any better, sobbing and moaning in equal turns as he’s driven to the edge again and again.

In the end, he only barely manages it. He’s just able to time his breathing, erratic as it is, with his effort in pushing the bar away. His muscles scream at him as he gets it higher and higher in the air, and every single part of him goes completely limp the moment he stops gripping the bar.

“There ya go,” Ghost growls, and Johnny groans as the vibrations sink into him. “Tha’s my fuckin’ boy.”

Johnny whines, manages to muster up just enough energy to lift one hand and drop it onto Ghost’s buzzed head. He can’t do anything but keep it there, but it helps him feel less lost in the pleasure. He doesn’t even have enough strength to grind against Ghost’s hand, but the other man doesn’t need the help in getting him off. 

By the time he’d gotten re-dressed (by the time Ghost had re-dressed him), Graves had been walking in the door. He’d only given the two of them a nasty look, and Johnny’s face had burned bright at the realization that they’d been caught.

“Inside, you two. Now.” Was all Graves had said, but Johnny had trouble even glancing at the man for days. 

Ghost had never been that hard on him during a workout again, but the threat of it was always there, and it was more than enough to keep Johnny from complaining again.

That’s how most of their dynamic worked - the second Johnny pushed back against Ghost’s control even minutely, he was met with swift and firm punishment. Unwilling to experience whatever degradation Ghost chose again, he’d be sure not to repeat the same mistakes.

And Johnny finds that when he listens, when he doesn’t question Ghost and doesn’t let the humiliation get to him, the man verges on kind. In his own sick and twisted way.

(At night, alone under his sheets, Johnny wonders if Riley is really soft, or if he’s too used to the man’s cruelty and simply thinks anything less than that is kind.)

———————————————————————

Two months into their “deal”, Johnny’s world is brought to a sudden stop again. 

He’s in the staffroom - an hour early, because Ghost expects him to be there when he takes his showers, which happen to be first thing in the morning - when Gaz walks in, a small paper bag in his hand.

“Hey, mate,” he beams, quickly walking towards Johnny. “Glad I got here early enough to catch you, feel like we’ve hardly talked in ages.”

Johnny gives his best sympathetic smile, checking the bullets in his gun. “Sorry, mate. Job’s been wearin’ on me more than I thought it would.”

Gaz quickly looks away, nodding rapidly. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” There’s an almost-awkward moment of silence before Gaz holds out the bag he’d brought. “Oh, I brought donuts. Y’know, to celebrate the good news.” He shakes the bag enticingly. “Want one?”

Johnny grins, quickly snagging the bag and tugging out a maple log. “Thanks, I love these. What’s the good news?”

He’s taking his first bite of the treat, savoring the taste of it on his tongue, when Gaz makes a shocked noise “You don’t know?”

He’s still chewing, so the only response Johnny can give is a shake of the head and a raised brow.

“Huh, I’d figured he’d have…” Gaz trails off a bit, his own brows furrowing as he takes the bag back. “Well, I guess I get the pleasure then - Ghost was up for bail, and he got approved.”

Johnny chokes on his next bite of donut instantly, bending in half and coughing desperately.

“Shit, mate!” Gaz exclaims, whacking him hard enough on the back to dislodge the little bite of food and allow him to suck in gasps of air. 

“He’s-” Johnny gasps again, then straightens. “He’s what?”

Gaz looks completely surprised, leaving his hand on Johnny’s back just long enough to make sure he’s stable before letting it drop. “I can’t believe you didn’t know. I figured with your… relationship, he would’ve been the one to tell you.”

Johnny nearly chokes again, spluttering in shock and leaning his entire weight against the counter. “Relationship? We’re not in a-a relationship!”

The look Gaz gives him is a mix between pitying and disbelieving. “Come on, mate, you don’t have to lie to me. Everyone knows already.”

Johnny gapes and can feel the blood draining from his face. “Everyone?”

“Well you weren’t exactly subtle,” Gaz counters, his own brows furrowing now. “You really didn’t know? About either thing?”

“No!” Johnny exclaims, turning so he can lean his back on the counter and bury his face in his hands. “I don’t even-” he huffs, shaking his head. “You’ve given me too much to deal with here, mate.”

“Well to be fair, I didn’t think I’d be revealing anything to you this morning.”

Johnny spreads his fingers just enough that he can see through them, shaking his head at the linoleum floor. He can’t bring himself to look over at Gaz, not knowing… not knowing that the other man has known, and known this whole time. 

“Nobody judges you for it, by the way,” Gaz says quietly, a few moments later. 

Johnny raises his head, glances at the other officer once before looking away again. “What?”

“For your relationship,” he explains. “Love is love, and all that. Most of these men are in here for life, you’re not the first one to start a relationship with one of them, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”

Johnny only groans again, throwing his head back and staring blankly at the ceiling.

As humiliating as it is to know that all of the guards have known about his thing with Ghost, he can’t help but think back to the first thing Gaz had mentioned. 

His brows furrow as he turns to fully look at Gaz again, trying to ignore his blush. “Did you say he’s out on parole?”

Now Gaz smiles again. “Yeah, I can’t believe you hadn’t heard! I mean granted, I only saw it in the paper this morning, but still. Can’t believe he didn’t tell you.”

Johnny can only stare at the other man with his mouth agape. “Do you still have the paper?”

Gaz frowns a minute, then swings his bag off his shoulders and digs through it for a moment before pulling out a rolled up newspaper. He flips it open, turning past the first few pages and then pointing to a smaller box in the bottom left hand corner.

“Here it is,” he says, then begins to read it out loud. “Infamous illegal weapons seller Simon “Ghost” Riley released on parole today - mistake or mercy? Not their best work, admittedly, but I suppose no one usually reads this far- hey!”

“Gimme that,” Johnny mutters, snatching the paper and ducking close to read it more closely.

There isn’t much more information - the small article only lists the day Ghost was arrested, all his charges, and the accomplices arrested with him but sent to a smaller prison.

“Holy shit,” Johnny breathes, dropping the paper and leaning back. “Holy shit.”

Gaz snatches the paper back, looking at Johnny like he’s lost his mind. “Is that a good holy shit, or a bad one? Because I figured you’d be happy about this, honestly-”

“I have to go,” Johnny interrupts, quickly tearing all of the gear he’d already put on off and striding out of the room. 

“You’re welcome!” Gaz calls, just as the door closes behind him. 

The warden’s office is only a few doors down, and Johnny’s just barely restraining a smile as he throws the door open without knocking.

“I quit.”

Shepherd looks up from his computer, blinking dumbly at Johnny. “Excuse me?”

“I quit,” he repeats, stepping into the officer and glaring at the warden, still unable to fully control his smile. “Your buddy Ghost is out of here, so you’ve got no reason to keep me either. I’m quitting.”

It seems to take a moment for Shepherd to process the words, but once he has he sits back with a sigh, tugging open one of the drawers.

“I supposed I should’ve expected this,” he says, pulling something out and then shutting the drawer. “You know, you’re welcome to stay on if you’d-”

“No,” Johnny says quickly, fully glaring at the man now. “You and I both know there’s no reason for me to be here anymore with him gone.”

Shepherd thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs. “Fair enough. You’ll want these, then.”

He holds his hand out palm up, with two small flashdrives resting there 

Johnny grabs them before the ex-general can take them away, then frowns in confusion. “What’s on them?”

“Every time you and Ghost were… intimate where a camera could see you. I figured you’d want to have them.”

Johnny’s face flames again, but he nods jerkily and stuffs the drives into his pocket. He’ll burn them the second he’s home. 

“Well,” Shepherd sighs, heaving himself out of his chair and holding out a hand. ”You did me a favor keeping that brute in line. I have to thank you for that.”

Johnny can only stare incredulously at the man. A thousand angry tirades run through his mind, righteous words he could spit at the man, accusations to lay at his feet and hopefully dig at whatever conscious he’s got left.

But Johnny doesn’t have room for any of them right now. All he can think about is how he’ll never have to see Simon “Ghost” Riley again.

“You’re a piece of shit,” he says with a slowly growing smile. “And I have no respect for you. Goodbye.”

And with that, Johnny turns and leaves the office. He’s all but whistling his whole walk home, hardly even noticing the twinge in his knee.

———————————————————————

Johnny’s place isn’t anything close to nice, but Ghost doesn’t mind. 

He stands on the gross outside the trailer, smoking a cigarette and appreciating the cool air. Even though he’d had any privilege he could’ve asked for while locked up, he can still feel the difference in the air knowing that he’s free now.

It hadn’t been difficult to find Johnny’s address. He’d demanded the man’s full file from Shepherd before leaving, and the old bastard had been more than willing to hand it over.

Simon will go back and kill him someday. No one who allowed Johnny to be hurt like that should live. 

He hadn’t thought much about where the officer lived, but he’d thought plenty about how he behaved in that home. He’s far less interested in the fact that Johnny lives in a trailer with peeling paint and old tires, and far more interested in what’s inside the tin can that can tell him all about who Johnny is when he’s alone.

And he’s… messy. Very, very messy.

A part of Ghost likes to think it’s because of him, that Johnny is too exhausted after a long day meeting his standards and taking his cock that he comes home and doesn’t do anything but collapse into bed. Another part of him is disgusted by all the fast food containers and already plans how he’ll whip the boy into shape so he can actually see his countertops. No wonder he's struggled so much with their workouts.

The trailer is small, certainly meant for a bachelor or someone travelling with just a partner. The bed in the back is messy and unmaid, and it’s only two or three feet away from the small kitchen area. Between those, the couch, where a laptop is charging on one of the cushions.

Simon digs around while he waits for Johnny to come home. He figures it won’t be long - the second he learns that Ghost is out, he’ll realize that Shepherd has no reason to blackmail him anymore and run as fast as he can.

Ghost smirks at the thought of how surprised he’ll be when he gets home. He’s damn near giddy to see his boy, to see his face drop when he recognizes the man in his home. He wonders if the anger or despair will take over first - he desperately hopes it’s anger, though he wouldn’t mind seeing Johnny cry at the sight of him.

For now, he snoops. 

Johnny doesn’t have much of anything. He’s got a full sleeve of condoms next to his bed that Ghost snorts at before tossing in the trash, along with a few bottles of lube and a couple simple dildos. His clothes are all similair, and he’s only got a few pairs of jeans. 

The most interesting thing is the small gun kept in a cabinet over the sink - it’s an almost pathetcially small thing, but Ghost grabs it and tucks it into the back of his pants regardless. He’s well aware of Johnny’s skill with a gun - he’d been a sniper for a bit, according to his file - and has no intentions of dying before he can properly tame the little brat.

It takes about an hour for his boy to come home. Longer than Simon had expected, but he won’t hold it against him. 

He can’t help the spark of sadistic excitement in his chest when he sits himself on the edge of Johnny’s bed, forcing himself into a more casual position so Johnny doesn’t think he’s too eager.

His boy’s reaction is everything he’d hoped for.

Johnny’s face is lit up in excitement when he first opens the door, lips spread in a wide grin and shoulders rolled back. When he lays eyes on Ghost, it takes a second for that expression to drop.

(The sight of Johnny staring at him, beaming, makes something old and dead shift in Ghost’s chest. He’s not sure he or Johnny will like the things that feeling drives him to do.)

Ghost can see the exact moment Johnny realizes he’s not dreaming, realizes that Ghost has followed him home. It’s the way his smile drops slowly, the way his eyebrows pinch together and he blinks rapidly. His shoulders fall forward, like he’s trying to curl in on himself.

He doesn’t even close the door behind himself.

Simon cocks his head to the side, leaning back on his hands and spreading his legs wide - he’s nearly the width of the damn trailer.

“Welcome home, Johnny.”

Just like he’d suspected, it’s his voice that shifts the ex-officer from shock to anger. In a heartbeat Johnny goes from gaping and blinking to snarling and tightening his hands into fists.

He takes a single step forward, then seems to realize how close just that small movement brings him. He points an angry finger at Ghost, nearly spitting angry. “Why the fuck are you here?”

“Language,” he corrects automatically, barely resisting the urge to smirk at the angry sound that bursts from Johnny’s chest. “You didn’t think we were finished, did you?”

Johnny’s face is going red from anger. Briefly, Ghost wonders if he’s going to pop a blood vessel.

“Get out!” He shouts, hands shaking in anger. “You’re not- you’re not supposed to be here! I’ll call the police, get you arrested for breaking and entering!”

Now Ghost really can’t help the way his lips curl. “No, you won’t.”

Johnny’s lip curls into a nasty snarl at the challenge. “Why the hell wouldn’t I?”

Ghost lets his head tilt leisurely to the side. “Because you want to be a good boy for me too badly.” He lets on hand shift to his pocket, lips twitching further up when Johnny flinches at the movement, and pulls out two small hardrives. “And because I have these, and I’ll spread them as far as I need to to keep you well-behaved.”

He knows Johnny’s got a pair of his own, knows that Shepherd just wanted to get rid of them, but that doesn’t dampen his reaction to the small drives. Johnny’s staring at his hand like he’s holding a nuclear weapon, like his world ends with those harddrives.

When Ghost closes his fist over them again, Johnny lurches forward before stopping himself. Ghost tuts, then sits forward. “Now, I think we’ll go over the new rules. Since we’ll live together now.”

That’s what finally makes Johnny snap. A sound of pure rage tears from his throat as he dives for the cabinet above the sink. In the second that he’s not facing Ghost head on, Simon quickly follows and presses himself along Johnny’s back.

He cocks the gun, holding the barrel of it to Johnny’s temple. It’s not loaded, of course, but the boy in front of him has no way of knowing that.

“Looking for this?” Ghost says in his unblocked ear, nose running along the shell of it. “Tsk, very naughty, Johnny,” he teases.

Johnny’s shivery in front of him, his system no doubt overloaded with all sorts of feelings. Ghost pushes his nose just behind Johnny’s ear, inhaling deeply and sighing at the pure scent of him. He can’t wait until he knows each and every thought passing through that brain, can’t wait until he can predict Johnny better than Johnny can predict himself. He’s already halfway there.

“Are you gonna be good, or am I gonna have to shoot you?” He asks quietly.

“Don’t-” Johnny gasps when Ghost presses the gun a little harder, trying his best to move away from the pressure but pinned too tightly. “Don’t. Please.”

It’s the crack in his voice that makes Ghost soften, just the tiniest bit. 

“On your stomach, on the bed.”

He moves back just enough for Johnny to pull away, watching intently as he starts to pull away from the cabinet. 

Johnny’s moving slowly, one step only half the length it was before, but Ghost doesn’t rush him. He relishes in the sight of Johnny curled in on himself, afraid and obediant.

Then, without warning, Johnny whirls around and punches him square in the chest.

It’s the same damn move that got him the first time they met, and he’s just as unprepared for it this time. He only stumbles back a step or two, but for a man as highly trained as Johnny that’s more than enough room to do damage.

Before he can regain his balance, Johnny’s burying his shoulder into his chest and shoving him to the side. Ghost falls flat on his ass, stumbling out of the open door and the few rickety old steps into the dirt below. 

Johnny flies down after him, landing with his knees on either side of Ghost’s ribs and wrapping his hands around the larger man’s throat.

Ghost chokes when he squeezes, reaching up to try and yank Johnny’s hands off of him. But the younger man has adrenaline and fear on his side, and he hangs on like his life depends on it.

A moment later he leans back, still firmly choking Ghost but letting his eyes run over the man and the ground beside him. It takes a moment for Simon to realize what he’s looking for.

“Dropped… it…” he chokes out, his lips tilting up into the slightest of smirks despite his delicate situation. The gun had flown from his hand as soon as Johnny knocked him off his feet, but he can’t see around the other man to know if it had landed outside.

Johnny’s hands flex against his throat, strangling him with just enough strength that black spots begin to dance across his vision. Still, he’s hardly weakened, and he throws a rough punch at Johnny’s face with his quickly fading strength.

The boy dodges it, but just barely since Simon’s reach is longer than his. He can see that the other man is considering something, and his hands squeeze harder again as he leans closer to Ghost’s face.

Oh, he thinks a moment later. I see. Smart boy.

Ghost lets his hands smack at Johnny’s face and arms a few more times, then slowly pretends they’ve gone limp in the dirt next to him. A few seconds later, his eyes flutter shut.

For a long moment Johnny doesn’t remove his hands, and Ghost worries he’s miscalculated. But then there’s a relieved sigh above him, and the hands disappear. Had he any background other than his own, Ghost would have sucked in heaving breaths and given himself away.

As it is, he doesn’t move until he feels Johnny’s knees leave his ribs.

He’s up and behind the smaller man almost immediately. It takes a second to catch his balance, his brain still deprived of oxygen and only half-awake, but he’s got enough coordination to grab Johnny by the ankle before he can get fully inside the trailer.

Ghost laughs at the way Johnny shrieks in rage, free hand clawing at the dirt as he pulls himself forward and Johnny back. When he raises his eyes, he finds himself staring down the barrel of the gun.

His breathing is still harsh and uneven, and his grip on Johnny’s ankle is secure. He glares at the boy, not the gun, and growls, “Go ahead. Do it.”

Johnny’s hands are both on the gun, both shaking, and his eyes are wide with adrenlinea and fear. With only a moment’s hesitation, he pulls the trigger.

It clicks, empty.

Ghost gives himself just enough time to appreciate the shock in Johnny’s eyes before launching himself forward, forcing them both up a step and grabbing Johnny roughly by the jaw. With one hand on his ankle and the other on his face, Johnny’s tucked into a small ball beneath him.

“You want me dead, Johnny, is that it?” He growls, heaving hot breaths across the boy’s face. “Gonna shoot me then bury my body in this dump?”

Johnny’s expression of shock quickly twists to one of anger, and he spits into Ghost’s face. “Go to hell, ye bastard.”

Ghost bares his teeth, forcing himself even closer into the smaller man’s space. “You’ll pay for that.”

It’s all too easy to force Johnny up, to shift his hold from jaw to neck and to throw him inside the trailer. This time he makes sure the door is closed and locked, then turns back to his unruly pet.

He easily swipes the laptop away when Johnny tries to bash it over his head, storming towards the smaller man and grinning when the other man stumbles backward.

“Wait- don’t-” Johnny tries as he falls back on the bed, Ghost quickly following him. He drops the empty gun beside them, locking his hand back around the front of Johnny’s throat and holding him down on the bed.

“Wait, don’t,” he mocks, spitting on Johnny’s face. He laughs loudly at the way the younger man winces, eyes scrunching up at the action. “You know your beggin’ only makes me harder, baby, it’s like you want this.”

Johnny’s sneer is ugly, but his anger is beautiful as he glares up at Ghost. “I don’t want anything from you except your pain, bastard. I’ll fuckin’ kill you, first chance I get.”

“Which is why you’ll never get a chance,” Ghost taunts, leaning close enough that he can press their noses together. “You’re too fun for me to let go of you any time soon, Johnny, so fight all you want - it only makes your submission sweeter.”

He forces his lips to Johnny’s in a rough, but passionate kiss. The smaller man doesn’t reciprocate, but Ghost is perfectly content to nip and lick at his lips anyway. He’ll have the boy slobbering for it soon enough.

“On your stomach,” he says against Johnny’s mouth, moving his hand to the man’s shoulder to urge him over. 

“Riley,” Johnny gasps, trying to stay on his back. “Don’t.”

Ghost shoves him over anyway, pressing his face to the side of Johnny’s once he’s flipped and wrapping his arms around the man, relishing in their size difference. Even with Ghost’s workout regiment, he’s still so much smaller.

“Simon,” he says lowly. “You call me Simon. Or Ghost.”

It takes almost no effort to tug Johnny’s pants and boxers down. He kicks them both to the side, then pushes Johnny’s chest up and shirt off while he considers what the first color of panties he’ll put the man in will be.

He forces Johnny’s feet wide with his own, smirking when he whines at the stretch. Then he grabs both of Johnny’s hands where they’re clawing at his sheets and folds his arms behind his back, locking one hand around both forearms so he can hold the boy down.

“Let’s see you now,” he mutters, leaning back and using his free hand to spread Johnny’s ass cheeks. “Oh baby, you’re so soaked for me.” He makes his voice intentionally mocking, feels himself twitch in his pants when Johnny shivers at the sound of it.

He quickly yanks down his own pants and boxers, letting them fall to his ankles carelessly. He indulges in a few strokes to get himself to full hardness, then passes his thumb over Johnny’s cocklet a few times.

The younger man jolts at the sensation, head thrashing against the sheets as his back arches further into the touch. Ghost can’t quite make out what he’s trying to say, but he gives him a rewarding rub anyway.

“Did well gettin’ yourself read for me,” he praises, dragging his hand up to prod at the tight hole dripping slick. He carelessly tucks two fingers inside Johnny, only using them to pull out more slick and watch the way it coats his clit. “Too bad none of it’s gonna matter. Tsk, such a waste.”

Johnny raises his head enough to turn to the side and look at Ghost, confusion marring his pretty face. His eyes are glassy with tears, but none have fallen yet. Ghost knows that’ll change soon.

“What?” Johnny asks quietly, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

Ghost smiles, moving his two soaked fingers up a little further and tapping a few times at the tight hole he’s yet to use. “You were very bad, Johnny. Only good boys get their cunts used. Bad boys need to learn a lesson.”

Johnny whimpers, burying his face in the pillows again. When Ghost sticks the tip of one finger into the tight furl of his ass, he rockets up like he’s been shocked.

“L-lube!” He gasps, already writhing in place with just the smallest amount of penetration. “In-in the table.”

Ghost sighs, wiggling the tip of his finger inside of Johnny and smiling at the wince he gets in return. “No lube for you today, Johnny. Since you liked spit so much earlier, I figured we’d use that.”

He watches Johnny’s eyes go wide as he spits a large glob directly where his finger is, laughs when Johnny’s “Wait-” is choked off as he shoves his finger the rest of the way in.

He quickly begins thrusting the digit in and out, using his hold on Johnny’s arms to keep him pinned. He stretches the boy as much as he can with one finger, but quickly adds a second with just a bit more spit.

Johnny whines high and loud, like he’s in all sorts of pain, and Ghost moans, grinding himself against the boy’s thigh.

“That hurt, Johnny?” He asks, his cock throbbing. “Your little asshole sting?”

Johnny hisses through his teeth when Ghost folds his finger and tugs. “You know it does!”

Ghost laughs, pulling out just long enough to slap his cunt playfully. “Course. That’s the whole point.”

He drags his fingers through the slick, doing his boy the kindness of bringing some of it back up to his ass to give him a little more lubricant.

Three fingers, it turns out, makes Johnny squeal like he’s being shot. His feet stamp against the ground angrily, and he throws his head back and forth like he’s looking for something to bite. Ghost can’t help but chuckle at how stupid he looks, only encouraging him by spreading his fingers.

“You feeling a little dry, Johnny?” He asks, pulling out to stroke over the hole and see how it’s stretching so far. He’s moving faster than he should, so it only just barely winks at him, but there’s little resistance when he slips all three fingers back in.

“Yes,” Johnny hisses through visibly gritted teeth, cheek laid flat on the bed so he can glare balefully at Ghost.

“Hmm. Want some more of my spit?”

Johnny splutters, trying to rear up again before Ghost muscles him back down. “You fuckin’- I need lube, Riley!”

Ghost frowns down at Johnny’s sex, fucking him roughly a few times in retalliation. “That’s not what you call me, stupid boy.”

Johnny hisses angrily, stomping once. “I’m not fuckin’ stupid!”

Ghost rumbles a disagreeing noise, tugging Johnny’s arms a little tighter. “Then how come you’re so bad with simple instructions? Can’t mind your manners, can’t call me the right name… can’t even ask for what you need from me properly.”

“I don’t need you to spit on me!”

Ghost sighs, like he’s dealing with a misbehaving puppy instead of an enraged man. “I won’t give you what you don’t ask for,” he warns, pulling his fingers out. “But if you’ve got all the lube you think you need…”

He lines the tip of his uncut cock up with the small, understretched hole. Johnny’s complaints rocket in volume when he realizes what Ghost’s doing, and the larger man slips his cock a little lower and rocks his hips back and forth to soak himself in Johnny’s slick while he listens to the younger man beg.

“Wait, wait-! No, no, no, nonono, please, please, don’t! Ghost!” He cries, head thrown back and thrashing as wildly as he can. Ghost’s cock only drips more precum as he’s forced to wrestle Johnny down, leaning most of his body weight onto the man beneath him. “Ghost, Ghost, Simon, please, please don’t fuck me there! Not- not without-!”

He breaks off into only pants, so Ghost grinds a little harder and leans close to spit, “Without what?”

“Spit! Without spit, please, please spit on me again Ghost!” Johnny cries, face streaked with tears and eyes screwed shut. 

Ghost hums as he shifts a bit, making sure that his cockhead drags from asshole to clit to fully soak himself and Johnny. “That what you want? Want me to spit on you, sweet boy?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Johnny sobs, blinking slowly up at him.

Ghost smiles, leans close, and spits directly onto the apple of Johnny’s cheek. The flabbergasted expression on his boy’s face is more than worth any fighting he needed to get here.

“There you go,” he purrs, grinding himself a little more slowly and making sure the head of his cock rubs against Johnny’s clit. “What do we say?”

“You- you said you’d… on-on my…”

Ghost tilts his head, his smile sharp. “I said I’d give you my spit, baby, nobody said anything about where. Why don’t you stick your pretty tongue out and taste it for me.”

Johnny doesn’t listen, but Ghost lets it slide because his little confused expression is making him ache.

“But I’m too dry,” he says quietly, staring up at Ghost. “I’m gonna- I’ll tear.”

Ghost coos, pulling back just enough to line his cockhead up properly with Johnny’s ass. “Not if you relax for me.”

Then, he pushes himself in. 

He knows he’s risking Johnny injury, so he dips his free hand down to rub his clit so he stays as relaxed as possible. As much as Ghost loves seeing Johnny cry, he knows he’ll be able to fuck him more if the boy isn’t torn.

He cries big, fat tears as Ghost pushes himself into the hilt. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t give Johnny time to panic and tighten up, only forces himself in and keeps his fingers moving quickly on the clit beneath him.

“There we go,” he breathes once his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. His eyes flutter shut, rolling his head back on his neck and luxuriating the tight heat of his boy beneath him. “Feel so good for me, Johnny.”

The man beneath him is only animal noises and sniffles. Ghost can tell that he wants to tense, that he wants to fight, but the mix of Simon’s hand on his cock and his instincts keep him loose enough that he doesn’t tear.

“Look’it that,” Ghost whispers, dragging his finger from clit to hole and tracing around the stretched rim of it. “And you thought you couldn’t take it. Like I said - stupid thing.”

Johnny’s keen is high-pitched and wounded as Ghost slowly pulls out, watching the place where they meet intently.

When he slams back inside, Johnny screams.

His pace doesn’t let up from there. Once he’s assured Johnny won’t tear, he fucks him with all the strength and roughness he always does. He pays almost no mind to Johnny’s pleasure, using him only as a fleshlight for him to get off in.

“So fucking tight,” he hisses, using his hold on Johnny’s arms to balance himself and really start to fuck him. “Made for my goddamn cock, shaped to my will exactly, I’m never fucking letting you go.”

He’s panting over Johnny, back hunched as he works himself up. “Never felt anything like this. No man, no woman, just you, Johnny. My perfect, tight boy, huh? Cunt or ass, you squeeze me like you never want me to fuckin’ go. Proper fuckin’ cocksleeve.”

Johnny’s sounds are caught between pleasure and pain as Ghost slowly wears him down, tears streaming down his face but hips twisting back for more. 

“Too bad you were bad, huh?” Ghost pants, putting his mouth right beside Johnny’s ear. “Coulda been fucking you in that pretty cunt. Could’ve stuffed you full of my cum, given you a nice little creampie. You want that? You want me stuffed deep in your guts?”

Johnny’s nowhere near coherent enough to speak, but Ghost is more than capable of talking for the both of them. “Coulda bred you, baby. Coulda given you a pretty little thing in your tummy, coulda filled you up and made you mine. Might still, if you can learn to be good.”

Ghost’s hips begin to work erratically as he reaches the edge, uncaring for any sort of rhythm or consistent pace as he focuses purely on getting himself off.

When he finally does reach his climax, he swears he sees stars.

It takes a long time for his cock to soften fully, for Johnny’s ass to stop milking more and more come out of him. He doesn’t mind, of course, only half-heartedly humps Johnny to finish himself off.

As he begins to relax on top of Johnny, the younger man only tenses.

“Ghost,” he whines, wriggly desperately. “Ghost, c’mon, it’s my turn.”

Simon huffs a laugh against Johnny’s nape, free hand coming up to run through his mohawk. “Your turn? For what?”

Johnny whines liked a kicked dog. “To come. C’mon, I’m so close, just need a little-”

Ghost quickly pulls out and angles his hips away, so Johnny’s cunt is left with only the cold air. The little brat cries like he’s been shot, hips working fruitlessly against the bed.

“Told you you’ve been bad,” Ghost mutters, quickly crashing from his high but keeping Johnny firmly stuck beneath him. “You don’t get to come tonight.”

Johnny wails, and Ghost can’t help but laugh as he finally stands.

Johnny’s all squirming and begging beneath him as he digs through his pants pockets.

“No, no, Ghost, please, I need to come! I can’t- I can’t do this, c’mon, I’m so close, you got me so close, you have to-! Please, Simon, come on!”

“Settle,” Ghost rumbles, giving his forearms a tight squeeze as he pulls the handcuffs out of his pocket. It had been all too easy to take them from the staff room before leaving, and he sets them on the bed as he finally lets go of Johnny’s wrists.

Like he suspected, he’s too desperate to do much but beg. The most he manages is flipping onto his back, but Ghost is lifting him by the hips and forcing him further up the bed before he can try anything.

“I can’t settle, Ghost, you’re fuckin’ blue ballin’ me!”

Ghost gives him a sardonic look as he knee-walks further up the bed, grabbing Johnny’s left wrist in one hand and using the other to quickly handcuff him to the small curtain rod above his bed. “What balls? All you’ve got is a cunt.”

Johnny’s too distracted by his new predicament to care about Ghost’s comment, staring at his hand with wide eyes. Simon steps back just long enough to fully strip, throw the gun to the ground, and toss a blanket onto the bed.

“What-? Where the hell did you get these?!” Johnny spits, yanking his wrist on instinct and curling away from Simon.

“Where the hell do you think?” Simon grouses, throwing himself to the bed next to Johnny and tugging the other man down. “Get down here. We’re sleeping now.”

“We’re-?” Johnny jerks in Simon’s hold, but he can’t do more than squirm. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Uncuff me! Now!”

“No,” Ghost grunts, pulling Johnny even tighter to him and squeezing to quiet him down. “You’re not runnin’ away from me. Sleep.”

“How the hell can you expect me to sleep with one goddamn hand in the air?!”

Ghost groans, quickly covering Johnny’s mouth with one hand. “Quiet. Sleep.”

He doesn’t even flinch when he feels Johnny bite his hand. He does consider investing in some smaller ball gags for Johnny to wear to bed, if he’s going to kick up such a fuss every night.

After a few minutes of stillness and silence, Johnny relaxes in Ghost’s arms. He knows it’s purely instinctual, knows that he’ll probably wake up to Johnny’s best murder attempt in the morning, but for now he feels content.

He’s confident he’ll be able to break Johnny down into the perfect little pet. He’ll never get rid of all the boy’s fire - that’s half his fun - but he’ll make sure Johnny understands the proper power hierarchy, understands when to fight and when to listen.

For now, he falls asleep with his boy safe and secure in his arms.

#i always feel weird properly tagging my dark fics because i dont want people to accidentally stumble on them lol #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #bo writes #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #john mactavish x simon riley #soap mactavish x ghost riley #ghoap smut #ghostsoap smut #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #ghoap #ghostsoap #dark fic

[firehosebvck]

hottie hotchner - aaron hotchner

title: hottie hotchner

summary: during a conversation with your team, you let it slip that you find your boss very attractive. little did you know that said boss could hear every sordid detail.

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

word count: 856

warning(s): it gets a little suggestive towards the end but nothing too explicit

a/n: i honestly didn’t think i would finish this as fast as i did. hope you guys enjoy this round’s winner of pick my next fic!

When you accepted the position for Administrative Liaison for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, you definitely had some reservations about what the agents would be like. Most of the jobs that you’ve had were assistant jobs, and it’s safe to say that you had encountered your fair share of asshole bosses along the way. 

That being said, the agents of the BAU were nothing at all like you expected. You walk into the building on your first day, and you are greeted by a taller, slender blonde woman. She reaches her hand out with a warm smile. A smile that says she’s genuinely excited for you to be there. “You must be Y/N. I’m Agent Jennifer Jareau of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.” You shake her hand. “But you can call me JJ.”

You return her smile and let go of her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, JJ.”

“Follow me, and I’ll introduce you to the rest of our team.”

You nod, and she leads you through glass double doors and a maze of desks that she calls the bullpen. The two of you go up a small staircase to a conference room with a circular table, and six heads turn when she opens the door. Sitting around the table are a tall, lanky man with brown hair that curls just below his ears, a taller, bald man with biceps that look as big as your head, a brightly-colored blonde woman holding a remote, a dark-haired woman with an air of confidence that could tear apart your entire being before even blinking, an older man that exudes a grandfatherly energy, and… oh. You stop at the last person–a man that looks just a bit older than you with dark hair and eyes that could bring you to your knees without having to ask. 

“Guys,” JJ starts. “This is Y/N, and she is our new Administrative Liaison.” 

You hold up your hand and do a shy, awkward wave. “Hi.”

JJ points to the lanky man and goes from left to right introducing everyone to you. “This is Spencer, Derek, Penelope, Emily, Rossi, and our Unit Chief, Hotch.”

Unit Chief? That means… Christ,  you haven’t even gotten to your second day yet, and you already want to fuck your boss.

Hotch stands and holds his hand out to you much like JJ did, his smile a lot more understated than hers. “Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

His hands are warm. “Thank you, sir.”

He turns to the rest of the team. “Alright, let’s get started.”

–

It takes a little while to get used to your new job, but you soon find your footing and nestle into the spot the team–your team–has created for you. The eight of you have become like a family. A big, dysfunctional family. You trust each other with your lives and your deepest, darkest secrets.

That is the only way you can explain how you ended up in this predicament.

“Hotch?” Derek asks, his face a mix of confusion and surprise. “Really, pretty girl? Hotch?”

You narrow your eyes the tiniest bit at him. “What’s wrong with Hotch?” 

“Nothing’s wrong with Hotch, sweets,” Penelope amends. “We just… weren’t expecting him to be your answer.”

“Yeah. We thought you would go for someone a little closer to your age.” Derek points at Spencer. “Like Pretty Boy.”

You shake your head. “I have a type, and as much as I adore Spencer, he is not it.”

“And Hotch is your type?” 

You nod. “He’s a DILF. I like DILFs.”

Emily nearly spits the water she’d just taken a sip of out of her nose. “Oh, my God. Never say that again.”

“Never once in my days of working here did I ever think that I would hear Hotch and DILF in the same sentence,” JJ says. 

“Neither did I,” says a voice from behind you. Fuck my life. You turn and come face to face with none other than your boss and the aforementioned DILF. 

“Hotch,” you breathe.

He points over his shoulder at his office door. “My office.”

Hanging your head, you nod. “Yes, sir.”

The two of you head up to his office, and once the door is locked and the blinds are closed, he turns to face you. “Y/N, we talked about this,” Hotch says, sighing.

You shrug like you see no problem with the situation. “What was I supposed to say? You are a DILF, Aaron.” 

His stony facade drops and a shy smile pulls at his lips. “I just didn’t expect you to say that, especially in front of the team.”

You bring your arms up and wrap them loosely around your boyfriend’s neck. “Blame Derek. He asked.”

A laugh bubbles out of him, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you tell him. “You know, for a group of highly-skilled profilers, they still haven’t figured out we’re together yet.”

“I’m sure they will,” he tells you before moving his lips to your neck. “Especially after tonight.”

Your only response is a giggle.

#e posts #e writes #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader