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#oh man... tough choice!

not-that-dillinger · 2 years

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[Sanctuary: receiver pulls sender into their house to protect them from an impending danger/storm] Your choice between Alan or Sam

Ed barely beat the storm on his way home from the board meeting. The storm was one of those storms that just randomly popped up off the coast as if out of nowhere on occasion. He tossed his coat on a hanger in the closet and wandered to the kitchen to scrounge something up for dinner, still thinking about the meeting.

The board meeting was... tedious. That had been the fourth board meeting since Sam took over as CEO, and Ed still knew neither what the new dynamic within the board was, nor what role he was supposed to play.

What he did know, was he was on thin fucking ice with the board again. That was fine. He'd dealt with it before, and he'd do it again.

And that Sam only seemed to listen to Alan, which only seemed to frustrate everyone else.

Ed glanced out the window across the living room, and caught glimpse of a lone figure across the street, looking much like a phantom shrouded in fog from the heavy rain.

Speak of the devil.

What the hell was Alan doing out in a storm like this? Ed could barely see him across the street, and with those glasses he wore, it was a wonder he had any clue where he was going.

Before Ed could think about what he was doing, he was out the door, not bothering with a rain coat.

"Alan!" he called, barely pausing long enough to make sure the road was clear before sprinting across to Alan.

He caught up to Alan, and gripped his arm lightly.

"Hey, Alan," he said. "this weather's pretty bad. My house is across the street, how about you come inside?"

#Thanks for the ask!#oh man... tough choice!#but I've been looking for an excuse to interact with Alan...#Couldn't think of any other danger that would work for this scenario so going with a storm again.#but also just really love the ambience of a good storm...#your choice if this is in the same universe as the thread with Sam and Rio

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icharchivist · 5 days

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Oh yeah, since Icha is really into Dragon Age, Dragon Age Inquisition is currently up for free in the Epic game store until Thursday next week

Just download the thing, make an account and receive game for free forever

To whom it may concern

oh true!

that's indeed helpful if the free aspect helps.

Here's the link!

I hate Epic Game Store personally (the lack of game overlay like on steam pissed me off with my ff7r copy and it kept telling me i had to be online to play a solo game), but free game is always good game.

tho as a disclaimer if you get interested in DA because of me, do start with Dragon Age: Origins (take the Ultimate Edition, so you also have the Awakening DLC, the in game DLCs, as well as the others post game DLC to play after Awakening, Golem of Amgarrak and then Witch Hunt), and then Dragon Age 2 (again with the In Game DLC, Especially Legacy and Mark of The Assassin to play when the Main Quest's Storyline "The Last Straw" is first unlocked/when Act 3 starts). And then DAI.

Like of course grabbing DAI as it's free is a good thing if you make plans for later, but yeah to me personally DA is the type of games you'd want to play in order.

(DA4 is supposed to come out this year too so. well. jsyk.)

o7 good luck everyone, and thanks anon for that!

#sorry i'm like this i do know people who didn't start with Origins and liked the games #and i know Origins is tough to get through at first because it's the least dynamic gameplay #(though it's the best in term of the roleplaying aspect)#but DAI drops major lore bombs that recontextualize the whole lore of the saga #and there is something so euphorical imo to the moment this drops when you've been just going through the games #like the reveals in DAI left me vibrating for months and i screamed when they happened #the idea of starting with the reveals is just. wrong to me.#*bites fist* also i can recommand the order for the insane people who want to read the comics the books and the guide books too #because i read them all and they rules. I have... taken notes into all of my books with stickers for lore references #it's a sight.#guhh. da......#also it's the type of games where your choices change the story drastically #and change the worldbuilding of each game from one game to the next #decisions you make in the first game will shape some specific questlines/convos in dai as well #da2 especially has a lot of new scenes depending on what you played in Origins #and impact Inquisition so drastically #and some characters from Origins or 2 reappear in 2 and Inquisition and will talk about your previous choices #and it's just so cool man because they can be drastically different people depending on your choices from one game to the next #that's it's just oughhoughhoughhhh #vibrating through the next games realizing 'oh it's my choice 2 games ago that made this questline possible'#is a one of a kind experience. Do play the whole saga if you want to get into DA this is my last messa--#anonymous #ichareply #ichafantalks da

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whateveriwant · 5 months

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The 141 getting you to stay in bed

It gets a little spicy towards the end so 18+ please

Soap

Waking up to the feeling of a numb arm is extremely unpleasant, but you suppose it comes with the territory when trying to cuddle 200+ pounds of rugged Scotsman

You manage to free your trapped limb and roll to the other side of the bed, but that space behind you remains empty for only about three seconds before Johnny's pressing himself flat to your back

Now with his arms around your waist, he holds you tight to him, mumbling unintelligibly against the back of your head

He drifts back to sleep quickly enough, his grip on you starting to loosen, only for it to tighten again when he feels you try to wriggle out of his hold

The incoherent grumbles from his throat grow increasingly displeased the more you try to shift away from him, until finally he huffs a grumpy, “Quit it,” into your scalp, hooking his leg over yours

If you still don't listen, he'll have no choice but to take drastic measures to keep you still. Fed up with your squirming, he simply rolls on top of you, pinning you to the mattress below him

You can try beating on his back, telling him that you can't breathe, but he just shrugs and says, “Use my breath.”

Don't even bother trying to explain how oxygen doesn't work like that, because he doesn't care. “Tough,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck. “‘Cause I'm no' movin’.” And by extension, neither are you

Gaz

Kyle is also a stage 5 clinger, but he's less boa constrictor and more baby koala

So when your alarm goes off at 8am precisely, it's no surprise that the man behind you grumbles in protest

“It's Saturday,” he bemoans. “Why you getting up so bloody early?” When you tell him you like to keep your routine even on the weekends, he just groans and mutters, “Five more minutes.”

You can try to squirm and wrestle out of his hold, but he'll just tighten his arm around your midsection, keeping his front firmly glued to your back

But you need to get up! You have to pee for goodness’ sake!

“Use the empty bottle on your nightstand,” he mumbles into your hair, peeking an eye open as you crane to look back at him. The look you give him at such a horrid suggestion has him sighing. “Alright, fine,” he relents and releases you. “But be quick. Bed gets cold without you.”

Once you've answered the call of nature, don't be surprised to find Kyle waiting for you directly outside the bathroom. He's wrapped up in your comforter like an oversized burrito, only his face and feet visible as they peek out from under the plush cover

With a sleepy pout, he holds his hand out for you, tugging you back to bed with him. Oh, he’ll make sure you get those five more minutes alright. Even if he has to drag you kicking and screaming

Ghost

First of all, don't even kid yourself into thinking you'll stand a chance of waking up before him or sneaking out of bed without him knowing. This man is the epitome of a light sleeper, whenever he does sleep, that is

So when you do finally wake up, it comes as no surprise to see Simon already up too. But just because you're both awake now doesn't mean you have to immediately be productive; quite the opposite, in fact

With how busy and stressed he is all the time, Simon loves nothing more than to just lie in bed with you and do nothing for hours

If you try to get up, he's stopping you with a gentle hand on your wrist, his voice quiet but firm as he commands, “Stay.”

You'll lay back down for a bit to appease him, but it won't be long before you feel guilty since you have so many things you should be doing instead

But actually, no, you don't have anything to worry about. He's already taken care of everything before you woke up, he humbly informs you

The cat's been fed, the bin’s been taken out to the curb, he's even gotten your breakfast typed up on his phone – just give him the word and he'll place the order

So now when he opens his arms for you, having you bury your face in his chest, you've got nothing to worry about except savoring this moment with him

Price

John is also a very light sleeper, so it only takes .02 seconds of you trying to stand from the bed for his bear-like snores to cease and his eyes to flit wide open

He'll grab you by the shirt hem, mumbling, “Where’re y’ goin’?” But it doesn't really matter what your answer is because his response is always the same: “No y’r not.” And pulls you back down. “Y’r stayin’ right here.”

He'll lie on his stomach, face smushed in the pillow, a big, warm hand tucked under your shirt resting against your belly

With nothing better to do, you scroll through your phone, catching up on your socials, the news, etc., but it's not long before you hear him grumble, “Put that away, will ya? ‘S too early to be meltin’ your brain with that thing.”

Well, what does he expect you to do? Lie there and stare at the ceiling for an hour? “Expect you to be good,” he tells you. “Don't make me get the handcuffs out again.”

Now that you have to laugh at. If he thinks it's too early to be on your phone, it's definitely too early for that

He smirks, opening his eye just a sliver, and the hand on your stomach begins to rub soft circles. “Is that so?” he taunts, his touch sneakily edging downwards. And when he slips beneath the band of your shorts, well…

Let's just say you're not leaving that bed anytime soon

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adanfore · 7 months

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Something about virgin Choso fucks me up in the head oh my god.

He acts tough. Every time he’s around you, talking to Yuuji, his brothers, he puts on a show as though nothing in the world matters, he’s always calm, layed back. Talking to him, you always got so nervous when he stared you down every time without a care in the world it seems, to you it looked like talking to anyone for him was easy as a breeze of wind, you kind of wished you were like that, like Choso. That also was half of why you were attracted to the man. The other half, well, self explanatory: he was great with his brothers, he was attractive in his own damn way which made your knees weak every time you saw him.

You hadn’t expected him to be a virgin, and a whiney one at that. When you had walked past the bathroom to the kitchen, you heard him in

the bathroom, he was masturbating.. Were you eavesdropping? Yes, but you couldn’t hold yourself from listening in to his beautiful cries of pleasure, whimpering, pleading for some reason, those pretty moans and whines turned you on more than you imagined. Well, the worst part came when you had not realized he was done already, you only realized when he opened the door and stood there, shocked, embarrassement flood over you and you just ran back to the guest bedroom.

If it only wasn’t for you getting carried away, this wouldn’t be happening right now, you and Choso sitting on the sofa, akwardly waiting for Yuuji to come back from the kitchen so the atmosphere turns nice again. You can feel Choso sneaking glances at you, fidgeting with the black silver rings on his fingers. Not wanting to have this continue for any longer, you decided you’d speak up.

“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday, I just.. uh..”

You couldnt find a explanation for yourself.

“N-No, It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have.. Uhm, I shouldn’t have done it in the bathroom.”

“But I was eavesdropping on you, I need to apologize for that. I just couldn’t help but get carried away from… Shock!”

And as Choso was about to answer, Yuuji suddenly came into the room, having only heard muffles of your conversation.

“Yo, what’re you guys talking about?”

With a panic, you blurt whatever comes to mind.

“ Oh! I was just telling Choso that I’ll be helping him later.”

“Helping him with what?”

“Just washing the dishes, just to repay him for yesterday, I hit him after he scared me in the dark at night!

Yuuji seems content with that answer, and sits between you two. You couldn’t help but notice how Choso looked at you after you said you’ll help him later, eyes a little wide, a deep red spreading on his cheeks. He didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, well, you were just making an excuse, but still, a gesture like that would blow his mind completely.

After the movie marathon, you both HAD to go wash the dishes, to play some truth into your silly excuse you gave to Yuuji, it was akward, very akward washing dishes with him. But you got to see Choso, the real him, how he was all fidgety, getting clumsy and blushing as hard as a cherry.

“Was it true..? What you said earlier?”

“What are you talking about, Choso?”

“H-How you said you’d help me later..”

“I am helping you thoug- Oh, you mean that?”

You said as the realization hit you, he was hard, and it was all because of your choice of words.

“I-I’m sorry, I am just gonna go, real sorry for thi-“

“N-No, Choso! I- I can help you, if you want me to?”

The sigh Choso gave out was huge.

“Please…”

That was all you needed to hear, proceeding to drag him up to his room at the back of the hall, the location of his room, being secluded and far away from any other room made you so grateful.

You sat him on the edge of his bed, leaning down to massage his thighs.

“How do you want me to help you, Choso?”

Hearing his name come out of your pretty lips always made him want to hold back smashing his face into yours, but now, he was just confused, he didn’t know what would be the most ‘appropriate’ thing to ask. All he wanted now, was to ruin you, to make you his, kiss you, feel and touch you everywhere he had ever dreamed of.

“I.. I don’t know, just- just touch me, do whatever, please..”

When you heard that, you immediately knew that he was a virgin, to your shock infact. Not wanting to torture this poor man any longer, you stopped massaging his thighs for a moment and told him to slide his sweatpants down, all the while looking at the wet spot of precum left on them.

You looked at his length for a second, before actually bringing your hand up to it, to rub and feel it to all of its size, he was huge, possibly the biggest you’ve ever had in a partner. It blew your mind and you wondered how it would feel inside you, how it would fill all of your insides, but, right now it was all about Choso’s pleasure which needed to be fixed.

The pool of precum doubled in size as you continued rubbing it, deciding to finally free it from his boxers, Choso moaned when it sprang up and hit his stomach. That made you look up at him, needing to hear more of his sounds, he looked back at you with a pleading look on his face which just said “please, touch me already”

You grabbed his length with your hand and started stroking it, slowly at first, picking up speed with some time. The moans, whines and whimpers this man put out were sent straight to your core.

“Please, Please, please, go faster, please, I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please!”

That motivated you to pick up speed, also to tighten your grip on his length to up the pleasure for him. His moans were getting out of control until you looked up at him with a strict look, telling him to be quiet. With that sense of dominance, he came all over, all over your hand, his stomach and thighs. His chest heaving, some small moans still coming out as he came down from his high.

You brought your hand up to your mouth, licking your hand and tasting Him before you began to walk out of his room, off to finish yourself off.

“W-Wait, can’t I make you feel good now?”

“I did this as an apology, Choso. Some other time, maybe.”

And with a wink and a smirk to him, you walked off to your room with an almost unbarable heat between your legs, it also had to be fixed.

NOT PROOFREAD ITS FUCKING 5 AM I WANNA GO SLEEP, ILL DO IT SOME OTHER TIME

#smut #jujutsu kaisen #choso fanfic #choso fluff #choso smut #choso x f!reader #choso x fem!reader #choso x female reader #choso x reader #choso x you #chosoxreader #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso my beloved #choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x y/n

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gotham-daydreams · 8 months

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Not Tonight

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]

(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))

2nd chapter here. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.

"Not tonight."

Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?

"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"

Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.

You'd take anything at all.

"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."

"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."

All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.

Someone had to agree eventually, right?

You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.

"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"

"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.

"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."

Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.

"Not now."

Simple, to the point, and sharp.

Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.

The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.

You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?

A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.

Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.

You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.

You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.

You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!

Yet it never seems like enough.

Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.

You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.

Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?

You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.

Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.

Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?

... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.

You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.

Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.

Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...

Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.

The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.

You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.

Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.

Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.

It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.

You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.

Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?

You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.

It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.

Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.

You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.

Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.

Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?

It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.

This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.

Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.

The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.

As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.

Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.

Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.

You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.

You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.

They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.

Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?

Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.

Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.

You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.

And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.

'They don't deserve to hear my music.'

Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.

So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.

You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.

You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.

Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.

You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.

...

You settled for second best.

Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.

You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.

Never once did you look back.

Nor did you ever feel inclined to.

------

Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:

I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n

Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.

Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...

Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.

--------

Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.

#this was all written in one go #so that's fun #more angst than anything honestly #not really any yan but it is supposed to be for yan stuff #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere x gn reader #gn reader #platonic yandere #neglected reader #sibling reader #reader tries too hard and does their best but finds out it isn't enough #some things just aren't meant to be #but that doesn't mean they get to run around scott free either #not series

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worldsover · 2 months

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Well, Now What?

20.5k words

You are dating Ryujin; it's tough making a relationship with an idol work, but you have your own… unique ways of handling it, featuring quite a few other idols. When your friend and ex Karina gets wrapped up in a dating scandal with your fellow actor, you're put in a tough spot between them.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

No response to your question. Your living room is bathed in a cold, sterile light, streetlamps against the windows. There sits man of the hour, Lae Jaewook. Cans of beer line your coffee table, and the conversation you're holding with him feels like a scene in more of a low-budget show, maybe one of those YouTube web series, and there's no way that YouTube money could afford a cast with you and Jaewook in it. His face, all rough lines and handsome features, is clear and void.

"I mean, if you're not gonna call her…" You gesture vaguely around your empty room, not wanting to have to spell it out.

Irritation cracks his strong features, and Jaewook counters your frustration with even more stubbornness. The sky-high cheekbones, the crinkled eyes, he'd be an intimidating force, heavy waves rumbling in the distance, if you didn't know him so well. "Come on, you think I don't have the sense to call her?" He scoffs. You want to nod, want to laugh, but keep both to yourself for now. "No, it's your fault."

"Oh?"

"You're keeping me hostage here like some kind of bad cop," he says as he points toward the empty cans on the table.

Put your hands up. (Weren't you supposed to be the cop? He has the gaze of a severe statesman whose withering off-hand remarks might flatten a country, even if when he talks, it's a lot less dire.) "Alright man," you say, "if you wanna leave, you can leave. Good luck with Dispatch."

Your words hit the target, raising Jaewook from his seat. He walks toward you and places his hand on your shoulder, and the two of you make eye contact, tense energy snapping through the air; it releases like that, and you both laugh.

"I'm not going anywhere yet," he says. "Too late for that." You can see the regret in his choice of company for the night. You can imagine one other person he'd rather see in the moment. You get it. "This whole thing is just…"

"Yeah, crazy." You nod solemnly, empathetically. You know this, all the thoughts going through his head, lived through the worries yourself. Living through them now, still. You reach over and grab the last unopened can of beer. After a long sip, you notice Jaewook, a statue. You'd usually laugh when he gets that serious.

His expression softens. "How does it work? The whole… dating an idol thing. You know that's why I called in the first place."

You motion toward the TV symbolically, its screen black but text implied what it would be if powered on. "Well, clear all that shit up, first of all."

"What?"

"You said it was just flirting, you weren't at dating yet."

"Well, yeah, I've asked her out on dates."

"So it's one of those."

He sighs and shakes his head. "She's already been to my house like four times, I think."

You stretch out your hand to give him a fist bump. "Nice."

"Don't be stupid, you know it's not like that. Where the fuck else..."

You smirk and retract your arm. "I'm just fucking with you, man. Trust me, if anyone knows how the system works, it's me."

Jaewook purses his lips. "Right." He sits back down on the couch with a tired thud that makes the old cushions sink. "This is all so stupid." His voice is a mumble as if speaking only to himself.

You gulp down beer. "Again, trust me. I know." You're not a serious kind of person, but you're sure he recognizes the honesty in your voice. "Anyway, you better get on that shit. If there's only person that matters..." Once more, you have a sudden, uncharacteristic sincerity about you. When you and Jaewook and Chaemin and the rest of the guys hang out, it's always fun and games, and no time to dig deeper, talk about anything that matters. It's different here. Call it matching the dim atmosphere of the night. "You know the headlines are saying it was love at first sight."

Jaewook waves a dismissive hand. "Aish, I don't care about comments."

"That's not the point. Does she know?"

He thinks for a moment. "Shit."

It's your turn to pat his shoulder. Almost like looking into a mirror.

Jaewook looks more determined than defeated, looking at his phone on the table. (It's a ghost town; he's completely silenced the device because otherwise, it'd be like hanging out with a flashbang in the middle of the room. Now the grenade's just an elephant.) "I'll get right on it. I need to think about what to say, though."

Pat him once more before leaning away.

"But anyway," he says, "that's not what I was asking about. It was more about the idol thing than the dating."

Another sip to think."I see... how do I put this? Imagine trying to date the Mona Lisa."

Jaewook spits out his drink. "What? You're always full of shit."

"I'm being serious! Dating an idol is like robbing a work of art. You have ten security cameras and eight panes of glass between you and the actual painting."

Jaewook's eyes narrow as he considers your analogy. He laughs to himself. "Got it. I didn't know you could be so smart."

"Pft, you know what, I am kicking you out for that—"

"Wait, wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Actually, keep talking."

"Okay," you start again. "Well... If you're an idiot, you'd only see the walls and the cameras. You'd think you're building a relationship, but really, all you're doing is running into more roadblocks, being paranoid, until one day, you'll trip a trip wire, and, ping pang, those eight panes of glass are gone, and the alarms are gonna ring in your ears and all those security guards are gonna drag you out and you'll never be allowed to even see the Mona Lisa anymore."

"Hah, okay. Wow. I thought I was drunk," Jaewook replies, grinning. "Are you okay?"

You clap him on the back and take a swig of beer. "Okay? Bro, I'm doing more than okay. I guess that was just the first time for me."

"So you're saying you've dated more than one idol?"

If only he knew. You sidestep the question. "Ryujin and I are plenty happy," you say with finality. "But that's not the point. I guess you could say she let me see past the walls. Not the cameras—we do know the cameras are still there, but we can't do anything about them anyway, right?"

Jaewook sits back down. "Never mind. I don't know why I came to you for advice," he mutters. "You're clearly insane."

The two of you talk for the rest of the night, mostly about inconsequential matters, like how Jaewook still keeps in touch with his other costars, Minhyun, Somin, and Kiyong, or how Jaewook has been practicing guitar lately. The delivery driver at your door with a bag of chicken asks if you’re that actor, then follows up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook, then follows that up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook who’s the thief dating Karina; he just read that on the news—you laugh it off. Over chicken, you share your excitement with Jaewook about debuting as a lead in your own drama.

But amidst all the casual chatter, the question lingers in the air like a persistent itch.

"How do you make it work?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

You lie in Arin's bed, your arm draped around her warm, perspiring body. The soft glow of dawn casts a faint light on her nude form, revealing the flush of red marks and handprints that decorate her exposed skin. As you steal a glance at her, a mischievous smirk plays on her lips, and her bare back becomes a canvas for your wandering finger. The room is dimly lit, allowing only glimpses of the intimate details of her body, while everything else fades into obscurity.

"What do you mean, Oppa?" Arin responds, then turns to face you. Her eyes gleam with curious desire. Her ass, on full display before you, holds a magnetic allure, enticing you like a loose thread begging to be pulled. Reddened further. Made into your fucking handles. Your finger, more delicately than your wanton thoughts, traces a path down her spine, to venture onto the painted canvas of her backside. Even if the light is soft, it feels like a spotlight on how every contour and curve of her skin comes alive to you.

Your nails dig into the raw flesh as you kiss the nape of her neck. "Is it okay if I sleep here," you ask, "or do I have to sneak out?"

Arin releases a contented sigh, leans into your touch. Her voice carries a breathless quality as she answers, "Stay." Her breath dances against your skin.

So you stay.

"By the way, I've been wondering..."

"What about?" you inquire while your fingers inch closer to the warmth nestled between her thighs. Instinctively, Arin's hips jerk, and her legs close around your hand, holding it captive. The rhythm of her heartbeat resonates against your chest as you lean forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek.

"How you're not jealous of Ryujin. Like how many guys and girls has she fucked this week?"

"Four. It's a down week." You chuckle, shaking your head as your hand continues its exploration, fingertips caressing Arin's delicate folds. "And I suppose you can imagine how I cope," you reply, the sensation of her moistness enveloping your fingers.

"Mmm, you're such a… cocky… ahh. I don't get it, but it works for you, I guess." Arin smiles, her eyes closed as she relaxes into your touch. She tilts her head back and lets out a moan, a soft one that you've come to love and know so well.

"Besides," you continue, cupping her mound with gentle pressure, "we've always been honest with one another. Ryujin knows that I think you have the most exquisite ass of anyone I've been with, even her. And she agrees. There's no lying between us."

"You really think so?"

Before you can respond, your phone illuminates the bedside table, displaying Ryujin's name on the caller ID. You laugh as you lean over to answer the call. Ryujin's voice reaches you, ragged and husky with desire. You're tempted to confirm with Ryujin about Arin's ass, but a greeting is probably more apt here.

"Hey baby," you say as you hold the phone, tracing careful circles on Arin's thigh. "What's up?"

"I miss you," Ryujin breathes, each word punctuated by shallow pants, "so fucking bad."

"I miss you too," you reply, your fingers continuing their gentle exploration along Arin's sensitive folds. "But isn't it a little weird to call your boyfriend while..."

"I'm what?" More breathy gasps betray her feigned innocence.

"Let me guess," you respond, slipping two fingers into Arin and curling inside. "Missionary?"

Ryujin splutters, her voice rising in pitch as she attempts to maintain her façade, while the man she's with muffles a moan in the background. Her laughter transforms from playful to breathless.

"I know what you wanted to say. 'Missionary? Don't insult me.' My mistake," you say, earning a choked noise from the phone in response, yet you continue. "Seems like a cowgirl kind of night."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she protests, her resistance crumbling under the weight of pleasure. "Ah, ah, fuck..." You can almost picture her at this moment: back arched and head thrown back; ass slamming against the thighs of some other man, each moan like an explosion of color into your imagination.

"So I'm right." You fuck your fingers faster into Arin, the sticky sensation building between your knuckles and the juncture of her thighs; some of it is your creampie, and the rest must be her own juices, because your fingers are sliding in and out with ease. "Lucky guy."

Arin is panting beneath you, face flushed with arousal, rolling her hips in time with your rhythmic thrusting. As you listen to Ryujin's pleasure, Arin grows increasingly impatient. "Please Oppa, please..."

"How's your toy? Is he enjoying himself?" you ask, presenting your fingers to Arin, glistening with a mixture of her essence and your shared passion. A blush spreads across Arin's cheeks as she takes hold of your wrist, her eyes locked on yours. She proceeds to clean your digits with her mouth without breaking eye contact.

"He's a good boy," Ryujin says, "the usual type. I'm showing him the ropes."

You chuckle as you look down at Arin, who takes your fingers deeper and deeper into her throat. She gags, and drool slips from her lips and trickles down her chin. When you finally withdraw your digits, Arin leans over to nibble on your ear and whispers: "I want more."

Instead of responding to Arin's plea, you address Ryujin once more through the phone. "You're so predictable. Let me guess... It's one of those rookie HYBE idols?"

"Maybe," Ryujin manages to reply between breaths, the bed creaking in a rhythm that aligns with her mounting pleasure. "Hmm."

"Can I get a hint?" But instead of a response, all you get is the sound of riding and the faint squelching through your phone.

Arin gazes up at you, her body flushed and needy, a rosy hue spreading across her skin. She grips your shaft firmly, fingers curling around the tip and stroking downward, a small trickle of pre-cum escaping. She mouths, "Oppa, you're hard again."

Ryujin finally speaks up, her voice strained. "Oh, god, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna—"

"Alright, I guess you can tell me later," you interrupt, ending the call just as Arin hooks her leg over your hip, her slick entrance pressing against your throbbing tip.

Arin drags her folds along your shaft and smears your desire against her sensitive clit. "Don't you want to know?"

"No. I'm like her like that. Easily distracted and—"

Not only your words but your breath are cut off as Arin's eager heat swallows your cock whole, only proving your point.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

Your statement follows a gesture toward the couch where Ryujin and Karina are sitting, the latter sitting on the floor between the former's legs. Ryujin is petting Karina's hair, the soft touch providing a much-needed moment of reprieve. Your living room is always cleaner when your girlfriend is over, and the air is thicker and warmer, too. When Karina comes over, the house feels smaller, as if the walls are pushing in to create an intimate barrier, and the words come easier.

"Not today, honey," Ryujin says softly, but a stern undertone remains in her voice, one that you know means "no" and "back off." She can see the hunger in your eyes, the need for you to finish your conversation from yesterday. But as always she's right: you have a guest.

Karina's voice is hoarse. "I'm sorry for interrupting you guys."

"No, don't apologize," Ryujin soothes. "We've had enough fun."

Karina's gaze is downcast as she rests her head on Ryujin's thighs. "And I'm sorry for crying and ruining the mood. I just..." She lets out a soft sob, sniffles. You pass a tissue box to Ryujin, who in turn passes it to Karina.

"She's right," you say. "Nothing to apologize for, nothing to ruin."

Ryujin continues stroking Karina's hair, a small, encouraging smile on her lips.

"And I wrote all that too... I was being sincere and... to the fans"—every word is strained through a sob—"it must look like I don't care about them at all... I'm so... they're saying I'm an embarrassment."

Ryujin grabs Karina's shoulders, bends down so Karina can look up and make eye contact with her. "Hey, listen to me. I'm serious. I want you to stop apologizing. Stop thinking like that. You haven't done anything wrong."

You and Ryujin let time pass as Karina cries on her shoulder, goes through a whole tissue box, and then more time passes. You're thankful that Ryujin was already here when Karina knocked on your door; it was the perfect excuse to not talk about the real elephant in the room. Now, Ryujin's presence acts as a buffer that prevents the elephant from trampling into the conversation and crushing your living room beneath its massive bulk. (The fact that Karina came to you for comfort does not go unnoticed either.)

"What am I going to do? I can't even see him." She sits up and rubs her eyes. There's little makeup to ruin, yet she still manages to smear the little that there is, leaving her cheeks streaked with black and red. Even then, you can still see how gorgeous she is underneath it all, that kind of beauty that goes beyond skin deep. "My image is ruined."

Ryujin's first step for consolation is pushing a slice of pizza toward Karina, who, despite her nerves, starts scarfing down food like a ravenous wolf. "You? Ruined?" Ryujin laughs sarcastically. "Really, an eleven out of ten international supermodel is being brought to the brink by dating a super nice and well-liked guy. If only I were so lucky," she says, looking at you with a pointed smirk.

("Yah!" you mouth as you both laugh to yourselves, in your own private joke.)

"I want it to be simple," Karina says in between bites. "Just me and the people I care about."

Ryujin raises an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on her lips. "Does that include me?"

Karina turns a deeper shade of red. She rests her head against Ryujin's knees, her eyes shut tight. "You don't count," she whines. However, it seems to cheer her up.

Your girlfriend chuckles a low and melodious sound that fills the room. "I can't help it," Ryujin says, her hands massaging Karina's shoulders and then running down her back, making her shiver. "I can't seem to keep my hands off of you."

"Y-yah," Karina stammers and then turns around to look at Ryujin with a feigned scowl. "I'm being serious though. Even forgetting about all the stuff that I've said... I'm just so stressed out. It's impossible to make time with him, especially now that it's all out in the open."

"Then don't," Ryujin offers bluntly. You give her a pointed look as if to say "Really? Don't?" But Ryujin ignores you, focusing her attention on Karina. "If it's too complicated then you shouldn't force yourself."

Karina shakes her head vehemently, eyes welling with tears once more.

"I don't mean don't date him!" Ryujin clarifies quickly, then takes a moment to ponder. "I mean, look at us." Ryujin points to herself and then to you, her eyes warm and inviting as she smiles at you. Karina follows Ryujin's line of sight with a tilt of the head.

"I know what you're going to ask," you say, "and yeah, he's already two steps ahead of you. He asked me how me and Ryujin made it work."

"And what did you say?" Karina asks.

"Well, I didn't get into the specifics with him." You were sidetracked with analogies, and you think the less drunk Karina wouldn't appreciate the roundabout method anyway, even if you liken her to a masterpiece of art. And Ryujin, she would appreciate your efforts—she still has the keys you bought her—but would undoubtedly burst out laughing when you got to the point.

Karina sits up straight, her expression eager. "Please tell me, I want to know. How does it work?"

Ryujin giggles while she leans in close to Karina's ear. "You really want to know? I think our arrangement is a little bit different than what you're used to."

"How?" Karina asks, her breath coming out in sharp rasps.

Ryujin runs a finger along Karina's jawline. "We've got quite a few friends, if you haven't noticed."

"What do you mean?" Karina looks so innocent when she's confused, like a lost kitten. So cute.

Ryujin always has the most fun when she's teasing, and the easiest target is often Karina, like this. It's not just teasing the way that actual friends tease: these are the touches she gives to her targets. To her prey. Her fingers brush against Karina's neck, trailing down to the base of her throat.

"I mean…" you start, "so you know how the number one problem is when schedules don't line up? You want to go out on a date, but you're both too busy?"

Karina nods slowly.

Ryujin leans forward, her voice dropping to a low purr. "We have other friends who we can spend time with. People who are also very friendly."

"I-I don't really get how that helps your relationship," Karina says.

"What I'm saying is—"

You stop Ryujin before she can explain further. "Hey, hey, wait, let's not freak her out. I don't think she's ready for that yet. But, I think there's still a point there. You have to be patient. To not be jealous. And, it's easier to do that when you have other people you're spending time with, too."

"That makes sense, I guess," Karina says, her finger on her lips. She lifts her head and traces patterns on Ryujin's knee, absentmindedly.

"Eventually, if it's meant to work out, time will make itself."

Karina sighs, her shoulders slumping. "You're right."

You watch as she closes her eyes meditatively and clasps her hands together. You exchange glances with Ryujin, who shrugs, and you both sit in silence for a few moments, waiting for her to finish. Finally, she opens her eyes with determination. You've never seen such fire in her eyes before.

"Alright, I can do this." Karina pumps her fists in the air, and you can practically see the confidence radiating from her.

"Good girl," Ryujin says, which earns an indignant huff from Karina.

"Shut up." Karina crosses her arms and sticks out her tongue. "I'm not a child," she says, like a child.

"If you're going to keep saying sorry all the time, you're acting like a child," Ryujin responds teasingly.

"Shut up!" Karina pushes Ryujin back onto the couch and climbs on top of her. Ryujin laughs but doesn't push back, not resisting as Karina leans forward and pins her to the cushions. You can tell that Karina is just playing around, and the sudden silence from Ryujin is genuine. Karina gets off of Ryujin's lap, a blush spreading across her cheeks when she sees your stare.

You, Ryujin, and Karina manage to move on and spend the rest of the night playing board games and chatting casually. Most of the conversation revolves around you recounting stories from your filming sets and Ryujin giving you a hard time about your acting, while Karina listens attentively to the both of you. Eventually, when the late hour strikes, the conversation slows to a halt. Ryujin yawns and stretches, and Karina is cuddled up with her.

"Hey, Karina," you say. "Are you going to go home tonight?"

"Huh?" Karina replies, opening her eyes. "I thought I would sleep over."

Ryujin nudges Karina. "Wow, how bold of you, sleeping at your ex's place. Were you gonna do it even if I wasn't here?"

"Yah!" Karina squeals, jumping up. "That's not what I meant, I wouldn't do that!"

"I'm just messing with you. I'm staying here tonight, too. And you..." She makes a pointed glare at you. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight, right?"

"This is my house," you say, sighing, as you watch the two girls leave for your bedroom, and you fetch a blanket and pillow for yourself.

One night of sleep on your sofa is a small price to pay to see them so happy together.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"W-well..."

It's been a while since you've been in such a compromising position. Ryujin is on top of you, her hips pinning you to the bed. You're lying on your back like a helpless lamb to the slaughter, no room for resistance when her fingers trail along your chest, collect beads of sweat from the surface of your skin. Your hands are also pinned, under the diligent grip of Haewon, eyes possibly more watchful than Ryujin's own—they're pencils, pens, chisel to the marble statue of your form. If Ryujin's hands were to strike at that very moment, would you crumble into dust, or be reduced to a pile of rubble? Haewon, the interloper, the invader of privacy who has no reason to be in this room, is nude as well, her full breasts bared before you, nipples taut and erect. As if to invite the touch that you can't give and wish you could. Haewon's tits are bigger than Ryujin's, and she looks at you like she knows it, all the more eager to tease you with her assets. You've already had your chance to savor those breasts—Haewon let you play with them for a while—but now you're stuck and happily stuck if you had to admit it.

"Well," Ryujin echoes, like the natural formation of a canyon could mock the rockiness of your voice, "what now?"

Your breath falls off a cliff.

"Isn't there something you want to say? Come on, Oppa. Tell us what you did wrong," Ryujin coaxes as she leans forward and presses her lips to yours. Her tongue probes into your mouth to deepen the kiss while her hips grind against yours in a tantalizing rhythm. She pulls away suddenly and chuckles.

This is a bad cop, bad cop situation. You gulp. "I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' isn't what we're looking for," Haewon says, low. This is one way to meet someone for the first time; somehow, this suits whatever image you had of her, based on Ryujin's stories, or based on how she is behind the camera. But now she has both eyes on you, and those eyes are like the barrel of a gun, and that gun is pointed straight at you. It's not like you haven't been in more compromising situations—but this feels more dangerous. It's in the way that your girlfriend and the newcomer are so alike in their ability to control the expression of their face: it's like watching two puppeteers exchange roles seamlessly. When Ryujin looks at you, and then at Haewon—the way that the smirk on Ryujin's face changes in tone when she turns to her friend—the way her eyes soften, then her cheeks turn rosy—the way that when Haewon crinkles her nose in disapproval, Ryujin pouts in return—and then they both look back at you with narrow-eyed disappointment; it's all so precise, you might think this is a rehearsed scene. Haewon knows how to play along with the moment, even if you're certain she has no context.

Ryujin asks you another question: "Are you gonna keep acting like this?"

"Acting like what?" you reply, your voice a croak. Your throat is dry, your pulse pounding. The heat of arousal is pooling in your groin. You swallow hard as Ryujin shifts her position to grind herself against your clothed shaft. She leans forward to capture your lips once again, to kiss you passionately, to plunder your mouth with the reckless abandon of her tongue.

"Like you didn't make Karina cry," Ryujin mumbles in between kisses. She pulls away slowly, a thin strand of saliva connecting her lips to yours.

"So this is my fault, and not, I don't know, her actual boyfriend?" You prop yourself up by your elbows, halfway sitting up. You take a glance at Haewon. "Besides, what's she doing here? No offense"—Haewon shrugs—"but this doesn't involve you."

"I'm just here to have fun," she says. "And I'm here because Ryujin wanted me here."

You look back at your girlfriend. "Babe..."

Ryujin cups your chin and tilts your head towards her. Her eyes meet yours, fiery determination reflected in the depths of her gaze. "Karina came to me crying. And guess what? It's because you broke her heart."

"What? That's impossible. How? I didn't do anything to her."

"No? That's not what she told me." Ryujin's tone is flat and level. She's not angry. But there's a weight in her words that strikes fear into your heart, a cold dread that runs down your spine like liquid ice. "You were supposed to be the most amazing boyfriend. And yet you broke her heart."

The thing with timing and love and circumstance and all the little things that make or break a relationship is that it's so easy to fuck up without realizing it. What happened between you and Karina, you would rather ascribe to fate's hands; truth is these hands are invisible because they don't exist, and it's the fault of your own for faltering. In a different time, you would not have met Ryujin after you and Karina broke up—in that other time, you would have been patient, and that other time is in a way so much more rational, because who would not wait for Karina? By all measures, she is worth the wait. But you were greedy, and that greed led you to Ryujin. Your lust got the best of you, and in return, so did your love for both of them.

Ryujin must have seen something in your expression that she takes as guilt because she releases your wrists and places her hands on either side of your face, holding your head steady as she studies your features. For a single second, that tight control over her facial muscles falters, which reveals an uncommon hurt in her eyes.

"You know what? This isn't the time," she whispers. "Not with our friend here." She nods toward Haewon, who gives you a cheerful wave in return.

"Hey, don't let me stop you. If you wanted to talk, then maybe we should have done this one on one."

"No," Ryujin replies, shaking her head. "It's not that serious. I just..."

You lean forward and press a kiss to the tip of Ryujin's nose, hoping that it will calm her nerves. "I know, I know. You actually care about her. I do too. I did. Let's... we can figure this out later."

Your next kiss is not so chaste. You plant a trail of kisses down Ryujin's cheek to the corner of her mouth. Her hands travel along the curve of your jaw, they tangle in your hair, and then she deepens the kiss. Her tongue slips past your teeth, presses her body closer to yours, molds your chests together, her perky breasts a sweet contrast against your hard muscles. You have the thought: what would your observer's tits feel like instead?

"Wow. So sweet," Haewon says quietly as she watches the two of you making out. "I guess I am just here to watch." She shifts her position to rest against the headboard of your bed, giving her an unobstructed view of you and Ryujin.

Ryujin lets out a soft whimper as your hand grazes her inner thigh. "No, come here, Haewon," she whispers, patting the spot next to her.

Haewon glances between the two of you with uncertainty before she slowly rises and climbs onto the bed beside Ryujin, where she scoots close to her friend. She keeps her eyes glued to yours and cups Ryujin's face in her hands and leans forward; they kiss. Haewon closes her eyes and moans softly as Ryujin trails kisses down the column of her throat, nibbles at her pulse point.

Sex isn't an answer or a reward or a conversation; it's the spark, the catalyst, the fuel on the fire, all of them mixed into one. And when that spark meets the catalyst meets the fuel on the fire, there are only more questions left over from the remnants of the explosion—and their answers can wait until tomorrow. But for now, when Ryujin's breath tickles your earlobe as she whispers her dirty fantasies, Haewon is kissing a line down your girlfriend's neck; it's in that moment that you don't have room to care about the consequences when this all started and where this will go; instead, you have all night with these two beauties who are so hot and heavy and ready to fuck.

Ryujin's hand snakes down your abs and wraps around your cock, stroking you slowly. You moan as her fingers tease your sensitive flesh.

"You better keep up" almost sounds like an insult.

You will.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

"Should I just break it off? One shot, clean?" Jaewook grabs a bite of steak, sitting across from you in this private room. There are a couple of other actors too, all the same year as you, but they're lost in their own conversations. You're always surprised that Jaewook isn't the center of attention, even with the Damoclesian sword of news hanging over him; then again, all these people are too experienced with the entertainment industry to be swept up by the headlines.

You wish it were that simple is something you wish you could tell him. You wish you could tell him about the time you and Karina dated, and how SM caught the two of you, forced you to break up since she was just a rookie. How you've been friends since. And how every string, between you and Karina, between you and Ryujin, between Ryujin and Karina, are tangled together too tightly for any clean cut to break the web. You want to tell him because if there's anyone who could understand, it's him. But you also know he can't hear it yet, no matter how much you want to get it off your chest.

"Hey, man, I can't tell you what to do," you say instead, sipping your drink. "But it seems like you're enjoying yourself with her."

"That's not the problem," Jaewook says. He gulps before he admits to you, quietly: "Karina isn't the only one."

Your eyes widen, and you almost choke on your food. You cough and try to catch your breath. "You're kidding," you say. "Who else?"

He gives you a rueful smile. "I can't tell you. I promised I wouldn't."

"But then what about Karina? You know every man in Korea would take your place," you point out.

He shakes his head. "I don't know about that. You know, I haven't even seen her in person once since the whole thing started. It's just... a bunch of texts and calls, and the occasional voice chat. It's like a Bubble subscription that I don't pay for."

You laugh. Think back to the time you were in a similar situation with Ryujin, or even Karina herself. "Sure, but I'm sure you're more patient than that."

"Well, yeah, but... it's still hard, you know? I don't know how long I can keep doing this."

You frown and nod slowly. "I get it. You're a good guy. And I know you don't want to hurt either of them."

"I mean, if it's just Karina, I wouldn't mind," he says, chuckling. "But with Somin—" He puts his hand over his mouth, looking around the room.

You can only laugh. "You're hopeless, man," you say. It's easy to picture him and Somin, even though you've only seen them together in one project because you remember the same way she'd look at you when she's having a good time; it's that sort of trust that makes it so easy to fall into a relationship with a co-star. There's a perfect contrast between them: him, sharp on the outside, a teddy bear on the inside; her, a sweet tooth on the outside, a firecracker on the inside. Then, there's that weird sort of chemistry actors have with one another—you and Ryujin always joke about it when she sees you on set with another woman, as though you're both acting like you're not dating. She gets it; she's an idol too.

"I'm so fucked," Jaewook groans. He takes a long sip of his drink before he turns to you with an anxious expression.

He slumps in his chair, and Dohoon calls out from across the table. "Hey, Jaewook, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says, waving his hand. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Ah, we're all tired," Dohoon replies with a grin.

"You know, you should get some sleep, Jaewook," you suggest. "You look like you could use it."

"Hey, I'm fine," he says, shaking his head. Jaewook talks about how he and his former costar get to meet up more often, maybe because she's an actress instead of an idol. You already see how this is going to play out, the story written many times before. You try your best to listen, but all you can think about is how your friend is falling deeper and deeper into something he doesn't even realize yet. "We went out for drinks last week," he says.

"I don't blame you," you say, "but I really think you should try to focus on just one person. Even if none of you are actually dating yet." You want to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous of you, a hypocrite to lecture him like this.

"Yeah... I guess you're right." Jaewook scratches the back of his neck, nodding sheepishly. His hand slides down to rest on his chest as he glances at his phone on the table. Another missed call from Karina flashes across the screen before disappearing again.

"Answer that, dumbass." You point. He gives you a look."You act like I'm your personal probation officer."

"I mean, it's kinda true. I'm obviously gonna call back in a second. You know, as soon as you shut up."

You chuckle. "Fine. See, this is why you gotta be more like me. Don't complicate things with what ifs and whatever, just tell Karina straight up."

"You mean, tell her about Somin?"

"No, not that, obviously. That it won't work with you. Look, I'm sure the two of you knew what you were getting into, right? I mean, you knew she was an idol, you knew how hard it'd be to make it work, and you went in knowing that it was just going to be flirting, right? So just go to her and say, 'Hey, this isn't working. Sorry about that. Let's stay friends.'"

"Yeah, but—"

You shake your head. "Trust me. You wanna know how me and Ryujin work it out?"

Jaewook nods. "Oh yeah, you never did answer that."

"We've got friends. Lots of 'em. And I'm not talking about the same friend either. I mean, 'friends'," you say, wiggling your eyebrows. You can see the realization dawning on him, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity and there's the blush and then there's the laughter and finally, acceptance.

"Oh. Oh... I see."

You smile. "So you get it now."

"Kind of? I'm not stupid, I know what you mean. I'm just having trouble seeing how that helps your relationship."

"Less stress, more fun. Don't overcomplicate things."

"Ah," he says, chuckling. "I see. So you're saying... I should get more 'friends'?"

"No, not like that," you say, laughing. "I mean, you do what you want, and I'm sure you're almost as handsome as me to pull it off—"

"You're full of shit," Jaewook retorts, and you both laugh.

You both return to your meals and after a few bites, you have a final piece for him. "But honestly though, if you like Somin, you should go for it. Don't worry about what other people think. I don't have to tell you to let Karina down easily, you know that. But from what I know about her, it's worth stressing that it's not her fault. It's the world's fault. She'll believe you."

He smiles sincerely. "Thank you."

"And above all else, be firm." God, you sound like his dad or uncle or something; the two of you are the same age. You continue regardless, "Otherwise, you'll end up like me, stuck sharing my girl and having to sleep on a couch."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep. It's terrible. Now make your goddamn call."

You'd think a man like him would be more steadfast. That the truths within himself would come more obviously. Obvious. The word itself is not so. How easily swayed. But does that make you any better?

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

"I don't know," Ryujin replies to you. She's in the passenger seat of your car, the two of you parked in some indoor parking lot, and she looks like she's just done fucking you in the backseat because she's just done fucking you in the backseat, her hair sticking to her sweaty skin, even the parts you can't see under her clothes. Karina had the correct idea, wanting things to be simple. That's why you and Ryujin always make time like this—to talk and fuck, then talk again. Most likely fuck again right after.

A blush crosses her face when she notices you staring at her in the mirror. You appreciate in these moments when she's cute and still trying to figure out her breathing.

"No, actually, I do know," she says, like she caught it.

"What?" you ask. You open your arms out. Ryujin presses herself against your chest. You wrap around her waist, bring her close, tight, only in the way that two lovers so sure of themselves can do. You and she stay like this for a while, her soft breaths tickling your neck while she relaxes against you. "You wanna tell me instead of talking in puzzles? That's pretty new for you."

Ryujin sighs, rests her head on your shoulder. "I'm not sure what to do," she says.

"About what?" you ask. You press a kiss to the top of her head, and she smiles and nuzzles against you.

"Well, Karina..."

"What is it?"

"She's cute."

You laugh."Yeah, I agree."

Ryujin looks like she's steeling herself to say something. Again, it's adorable, how she readies her eyes, breathes out slowly, and clenches her fist. "Here it comes. Okay. I can say this." (Watching her go through this routine has your eyebrows almost permanently raised.) "I like Yu Jimin. I really like her."

You start half of a laugh in disbelief. Then, it becomes a full laugh. When Ryujin looks at you with utter disbelief at the audacity you're showing her, you reach over and grab her ass, squeezing it, and that earns you a squeal from Ryujin.

"That's what you were worried about?" you ask.

Ryujin nods, a sheepish smile on her lips. "You..." She narrows her eyes and hits you in the shoulder. "I'm being serious!"

"I know you are, baby."

"So why aren't you freaking out or anything?"

"Really? Do I even have to say why not?"

"I-I mean, like, I know we have the whole deal and whatnot, but that's different. That's just fucking. I... I truly, actually love Karina."

"And I've noticed that," you reply.

You pull her in for a kiss, lips parting as you cup her head in your hands. Your tongue flicks out against her lower lip and taste the salty tang of perspiration and saliva. Whatever steady rhythm she's caught has re-unsteadied, her motions still fervent and rushed. Every time you make out with her in your front seat, you recall the first time after picking her up from a radio show, remember how you'd fucked her on the stairs of her dorm afterward, in her bed while Lia and Yeji were in the living room, how the two of you snuck out. The memory gets you hard, and she's already noticed.

Ryujin breaks the kiss to stare at your hard cock in disbelief like she can't comprehend how you've managed to recover so fast despite already understanding your stamina. But she's also gasping, gulping air down.

"Goddammit, hold on," she says, holds your shoulders, and pushes away from you as she leans back. "I was saying something."

"Oh. Yeah. Karina." You wipe your lips, some saliva dribbling on your hand. "Please, I don't even get why we're having this conversation. Aren't you supposed to be the observant one?"

"Well, because you're my boyfriend," she says, matter-of-factly. "And I'm your girlfriend. That's why we're talking about it. That was the first thing we talked about when it came to this open relationship thing, what to do about real emotions and feelings and shit."

"Good point. But why are you worried about how I feel about Karina? You know that we're all friends here, that we didn't break up on bad terms or anything. So if there's anyone I trust you with, it's her. Besides, I see how you look at her. And touch her. Shit, aren't you two close enough to be a thing?"

"I don't know." Ryujin shakes her head. "Maybe we are, but I don't know if she feels the same way."

"Why would she play along if she didn't like you?"

"I don't know," she says again, sounding exasperated. "I always get the feeling that maybe she's just being nice. Besides, look at her, goody two shoes. I bet she thinks if she accidentally looks at boobs other than her own in the mirror, she'd go to hell."

The picture of Karina turning herself on with her own nude body in the mirror has both you and Ryujin distracted, mouth open, picturing. It's funny how in sync the two of you are, and when you realize it, you and Ryujin start laughing.

"I wouldn't put it past her to do that," you say.

"Maybe I'm right," Ryujin retorts. "God, her body... Seriously, I always love getting an eyeful whenever she comes over and insists to stay in her pajamas."

"Pft. Trust me, those types of girls... Half the time they're exactly as they appear. The other half of the time, they're secretly kinky bitches who'll tie you up and fuck you until you beg for mercy. But you'll still get hard for them."

"Wow, that's deep," Ryujin says, smirking. "That from experience? You fucking Christian girls without me?"

"Meh, I just knew the type." You shrug.

"Wait a second, did you and Karina—"

"No, no, we didn't get that far back then. Trust me, I'd be surprised at who I am right now."

"Yeah, an absolute manwhore."

You raise your hands in surrender. "I get the point." You look up at Ryujin, the moonlight filtering through her hair and outlining her face. "But back on topic, I think you should just tell her how you feel."

"But what if she doesn't feel the same way? Or if she does, what if she gets scared off? She's really sensitive about that stuff. I don't want to push her too far, and our friendship is important to me." Ryujin looks down; it's the most serious you've ever seen her about anything other than dancing, music, and you. You know in the whole list of priorities, her friendships are always number one, and you've always conceded to that. "If we couldn't do it, I would be fine with that."

"I don't know, just take it slow. Don't go in for a kiss, just... try something. Hold her hand. If she's uncomfortable, she'll let you know. And if she doesn't, then..." You trail off, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

Ryujin nods, but there's still a hint of doubt in her voice when she replies. "I can try, I guess. Thanks, baby."

You reach out and grab her hand, lacing your fingers together. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, listening to the faint sounds of the night, speeding cars, and distant cicadas crying out. You speak up, your voice low. "I have some insider news for you."

"Hm?"

"She's going to need a shoulder to cry on."

Ryujin contemplates it; you're unsure how deeply as you lean the driver seat back while Ryujin pushes down on your shoulders. The car bumps to a musical rhythm, silent save for the soft moans and groans.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Well, now what's on your doorstep is a peculiar combination, really. Sieun and Somi don't have much in common besides their time at JYP and being idols. Oh, and they both speak English, although Somi is more fluent. But Sieun isn't too shabby at it either. Fortunately, they both possess a natural charm when it comes to meeting new people, allowing them to quickly form a bond, especially in the heat of the moment. Maybe you would’ve preferred just one, or just the other. Yet, you couldn't help it. You were double-booked.

“I’m sure we can work something out between the three of us,” Somi says with a smirk while comparing her forearm to your length, and Sieun nods.

Next thing you know, Sieun is taking the head of your cock into her mouth, her lips forming a perfect circle. The sensation of her warm tongue against your shaft sends hot pulses through your body, and her fingers wrap around the base of your member, around the head of your member when it strokes up.

Meanwhile, Somi directs her attention towards your balls as her hot breath tickles your sack. She skillfully licks, kisses, and sucks on them. The synchronization between the two is impeccable as if they have engaged in this act together countless times before (which they haven't because this is only their third time ever having seen each other in person). Your eyes are fixated on Somi's breasts, a stark contrast to Sieun's. Somi's bosom is larger and bounces like a buoy with each bob of her head. Her nipples are erect as well like two tiny beacons calling you to touch her.

Sieun slows down and pulls back just enough to leave her lips wrapped around your cockhead before she looks up at you through long, full lashes. The corners of her mouth are upturned into a smile. She swirls her tongue around the head of your member while her hand continues to stroke your base. Gazes up at you, her lips now red and slightly swollen. "You like watching me suck you off, don't you?"

"I love it," you say, your voice husky. "Your mouth feels so good."

She grins, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of your dick. "You want more?"

"Fuck yes."

Somi, sensing your distraction, switches to teasing your shaft with her tongue and lips and hands. "What about me? What do you think about my mouth?"

"Y-yes," you reply, panting. You run your fingers through Somi's hair. "Your tits and your lips and your tongue... you look so fucking hot like this."

Somi hums in acknowledgment as she slides her tongue along the underside of your shaft, then lowers back to your balls, where her hands cup and gently massage them. "Mmm," she says, the vibrations of her voice on your testicles causing your thighs to tremble. "I'm gonna make you feel so good."

Your hips buck at the combined efforts of the girls' ministrations, their hot breaths and moist mouths covering every inch of your lower body. You think you've reached the peaks of your pleasure already when Somi ventures lower at the same time as Sieun. While Sieun puts her hands behind her back and uses only her lips to take you in, Somi spreads your cheeks open with both hands. And before you can even react, Somi's tongue is already pushing into your hole, hot and slick against your sensitive skin. The pleasure from her licking and probing your pucker sends waves of euphoria throughout your body. You moan louder than expected and grip the bedsheets tightly while your muscles contract involuntarily.

As Sieun takes in more of your shaft into her mouth, Somi withdraws her tongue, only to replace it with a finger, slick with saliva. It pushes past your rim with relative ease, but it still stings, and you let out a low hiss through your teeth as she slowly inserts her digit. You must already be unloading pre-cum into Sieun's mouth because that's the experience you've had with Ryujin whenever she's done this to you in the past. Somi only leaves a knuckle deep inside your hole, which is all she needs while her tongue returns to tease your balls. The feeling of her lips and teeth grazing your sack is a stark contrast to her gentle touch inside of you. When she pulls her finger back out, she replaces it with her tongue once again. She licks your rim in an almost lazy manner as if she doesn't care that she's doing this and could continue for hours.

The combination of their mouths and tongues and hands has your head spinning and vision blurring—you've drunk too much, yet your mouth is so dry.

Unfortunately, it appears that your girlfriend possesses some sort of uncanny radar for interrupting your most intimate moments. Your cell phone relentlessly rings and buzzes on the bedside table, disrupting the erotic symphony unfolding before you.

"Answer it," Somi says, looking up at you from between your legs. "I'm not stopping."

You reach out and grab your phone, your hand shaking. "H-hello?"

"Hey, baby. What are you up to?" Ryujin's voice sounds amused on the other end of the line.

You can only breathe heavily, between the woman slurping on your cock, and the other one keeping her promised tongue in your most sensitive region. "No, nothing. Just watching a movie." You’re not sure yourself why you lied there. Usually, that’s Ryujin, teasing you about who she’s with.

"Oh really? What's it about?" Ryujin's voice drips with curiosity.

You grunt as you desperately try to collect your thoughts amidst the tantalizing distractions. "Um... it's about this girl who's obsessed with her ex."

"That sounds interesting," she replies, her tone laced with amusement. "So, how is she obsessed?"

A shudder runs through your body as Sieun and Somi persist in their arousing endeavors, their tongues continuing to lavish attention upon your member and balls. "Um... she's like... she can't get over him, so she stalks him and stuff. But he's dating someone else now, and she's not happy about it."

"I see," Ryujin responds. "Sounds like quite a crazy movie you're watching."

"Mmhm," you manage to reply, struggling to suppress a moan as Somi grabs a bundle of Sieun's hair with her free hand and forces her further down onto your cock, her nose pressed against your pelvis, her lips stretched wide around your thick girth. A gag escapes from Sieun as she coughs and chokes on your meaty shaft for a moment. When she withdraws slightly, bubbles of spit form at the corner of her mouth, trailing down the shaft of your member and collecting in Somi's hands, and then she completely removes your cock from her mouth with an audible pop, a string of saliva dangling between her lips and your shaft.

"What happens next?" Ryujin asks on the other end of the phone.

"I don't know," you breathe out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the current events. "We're just starting. I don't know what the ending will be yet."

"I think I have an idea of where it might go," Ryujin says."By the way," Ryujin's voice interrupts your pleasure-induced haze, "before you cum down her throat, put me on speaker. I want to talk to her."

Your eyes widen in disbelief, a mix of pleasure and panic coursing through your veins. "What? No—"

"Put it on speaker," she insists firmly.

With a groan of surrender, you comply, hitting the speaker button on your phone and placing it on your stomach.

"Hey there, I'm Ryujin, and I'm this guy's girlfriend," Ryujin says, her voice coming out as a purr. "Do you mind telling me what you're doing to him right now?"

Sieun wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before replying. "O-oh, hey," she says as if she has any clue what's going on. "I-It's Sieun. Hi."

Ryujin gasps. "Sieun! It's been so long! We haven't met since you were in JYP. How've you been?"

Sieun's cheeks flush a deep pink, and she responds, "Um, good! I-I'm doing good."

Meanwhile, Somi doesn't even try to hide her grin as she takes over suction duty, her lips wrapped tightly around your shaft. You can feel her tongue swirling and teasing your tip, driving you wild with pleasure.

"Wait a minute..." Ryujin says. "Who's that? Is that another person?"

"Hah, Ryujih," Somi says, her voice muffled by your dick.

"No way," Ryujin laughs. "I can't believe this. Is that you, Somi?"

Somi spits out your dick and sits up straight. "Yep, it's me."

"Wah, wooow. You know, I definitely expected you, and maybe Sieun a little bit, but the two of you together... Wow. I never would've guessed. But, I mean, if you're both in on it, then I guess it's okay."

"Y-yeah," you say, trying to catch your breath as Somi resumes her assault on your senses.

"So, how do you feel about sucking my boyfriend's cock?" Ryujin asks, her voice filled with curiosity. "Is it good? Does it taste good?"

Sieun's eyes are half-lidded with lust, and she whispers, "It's really good."

"And what about you, Somi? You like sucking his dick too?"

"Yeah, it's great," Somi says, giggling. "He's so big."

Ryujin chuckles. "Oh my god. I can't believe it. You two are actually sucking his dick right now, aren't you? This isn't a prank call or something? Woah, I'm seriously in awe, you guys. That's awesome. I wish I could join in."

You moan, your cock throbbing between Somi and Sieun's mouths as Ryujin continues to chat with them, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. It's a surreal experience, how casually she's speaking with them about sucking your dick, and yet there they are, eagerly obeying her every command. Ryujin tells them to take turns deepthroating you—they comply, their tongues caressing your shaft while their lips wrap tightly around your base. Then, Ryujin tells Somi to cover your cock in spit, and Somi does so: saliva drips from her lips as she drools all over your shaft. Next, Ryujin commands Sieun to lick Somi's spit off your balls, and Sieun happily laps up every drop before Ryujin has Somi spit again. Ryujin tells them to make out for as long as possible while simultaneously trying to fit your cock between their lips, and Somi and Sieun do just that—they kiss as if their lives depended on it, unwilling to separate from one another until the last moment when they have to come up for air.

"Okay, I've had enough fun for now. I can make myself cum later with this," Ryujin says, panting. You picture her on her bed, phone in one hand and the other down her panties. "You can go off speaker now. I have something else to tell you, Oppa."

You take the phone off speaker and hold it up to your ear. "What is it?"

"First of all, I asked Karina out," she says, all excited. "Made it clear it was a date. And she was confused, and I think she still kinda is. But that's fine."

"Great for you," you say.

"Are you busy Saturday night?" Ryujin asks.

"Should be okay." This one comes out breathily as Somi starts to wrap her tits around your shaft.

"Perfect. Perfect. I think it'll be a lot better if you're there. Just in case. And maybe we can figure something out. So the other thing is you better..."

You forgot what she said, right up until your climax, when the order comes back to you. It was quite hard deciding on which idol to cum inside. Ultimately, Sieun took your creampie gladly, while Somi seemed happier at the chance of eating that same load out of Sieun.

No wonder you're so devoted to Ryujin: for this night alone, she deserves more than she knows.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?" becomes Jaewook's question, and it's funny hearing it from him. The expected headlines are out now, busy schedule, break-up, blah, blah, blah. Somehow, he's made much more time for Somin, and you don't necessarily blame him for it. He's getting a lot less dumb hate, and for that, you're happy for him. But then, there are the headlines featuring you, and a certain two other idols at a cafe in the countryside. Seriously, the town has a population you can count on your fingers and toes. How did that happen?

You look around Jaewook's house; it's much nicer than yours, although it's a shame it's so empty with how big the rooms are. You notice yellow flowers on a stand; he has a good sense for fashion, not as much for interior decorating—that's the work of a woman with an eye for color. You can't help but wonder how close they are, to know so much about one another. You're not jealous. People find their own ways, and those ways change with the people they meet, or lose. You can't be jealous. Everything gained for one is everything lost for another.

Karina, in this way, is everything.

"I knew this would happen." Jaewook laughs to himself.

"You couldn't dream of a tenth of it."

"Alright, keep the mystery to yourself. I'm happy as is."

You nod, sipping your beer. "So, how's Somin?"

"She's good," he says, with a shrug. "A lot more time for each other. Just like you said."

"You don't regret anything?"

"I mean... obviously, you've got to, at least a little bit, right? You know, someone told me, if it's Karina, you clear your schedule, you quit your job, you better move the world for her. I've thought about it. But, there's no point in dwelling on it."

You can't help but let a grin spread across your face. "You know, I bet she's a lot less uptight."

"Really? I didn't get that notion from Karina the times we talked... but I guess we never got that deep."

You shrug. "We can't all be lucky as you and me."

"You say that, but you're the one with a girlfriend who knows exactly how to keep you happy. And now, two girlfriends?"

"It's complicated. Karina, well... she's just a friend. But, you know, I just wanted to hear it from you. We're cool, right? Like, you have nothing against me?" you ask.

"Sure," Jaewook says, "whatever. When I found out you two were exes, I realized everything. In fact, are you sure you can keep doing... whatever it is you and Ryujin do?"

"That's a good point. I guess, hm, I'll cross that bridge when we get there. But forget about that. We're good?"

"Yeah," he says. "We're good."

You clink your beers together. "Great."

Guys are easy, you've learned. Even the ones who are your supposed competition in life are simple as hell. It's a blessing and a curse that a beer and a lent ear are all it takes. And even if Jaewook didn't need it, you needed his. He was right, as much as you don't want to admit. The question of how you and Ryujin can keep things up without hurting Karina is something you haven't considered in any depth. And now that the thought is planted in your head, it's all you can think about.

When it comes to girls...

They're easy too, you've learned. But then, they're also difficult, not by some inherent property, but by the world making it so. Maybe you can graze at this feeling, with the challenges and expectations and scrutinies as an actor, but if you ever felt the need to write an apology for having your own heart and your own mind—then, you'd presume, fault lays on the shoulders of others, not yourself.

No. It's not about guys, girls, or the world and its difficulty.

It's you and the mess that you've made.

Then again, there is no real harm in making some more.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

You're at a party, a surprisingly big one for you, for once. There are some familiar faces, and some not so familiar. Most importantly, your two girlfriends are there. How's that for a statement? That's right, Ryujin and Karina, your hot and sexy threesome girlfriends, together at a party with you.

It's been a week or two since the gossip went viral. No one believes the three of you are dating, and that would be the truth. A more accurate assessment of the current situation is that you're dating Ryujin and Ryujin is dating Karina. Considering the history between you and Karina, you'd say that's for the better.

At this moment, you're not together with Ryujin and Karina at the party, unsure where either of them went. Instead, you're on the third floor of this huge house, sharing some strong, over-sweet mixed drink with Minji, Yoonjung, Jiwon, and Soobin. You're surprised to see Minji here at all, considering she just started drinking recently. If anything, you'd think she might join the other fromis_9 girls in their own circle. Meanwhile, as expected, Jiwon is the odd Fromis member out, the loudest, the social butterfly. Yoonjung is the only fellow actor, who of course you know from Jaewook, so most of your time is spent talking to her, and so far, Soobin hasn't said much. Didn't expect him to. So you're surprised when he speaks up first.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'?" you reply.

"Like, when you say 'now what?' Because you say that a lot," Soobin replies, in a measured tone.

"Uh... I dunno. I kinda just get bored sitting still. I wanna know what's the next scoop, or what's the next move, whatever. Like, what's your plan now? I'm surprised that you're already done with Ryujin. It's only been a few weeks. What happened?"

Soobin places his hand over your mouth and pulls you away from the girls to the corner of the room—looks almost like a kidnapping, making Minji and Jiwon's eyes wide. His smile placates them, that damned adorable smile. "Yah," he says, "what's wrong with you? You can't just say that."

To be fair, the music was loud, and the conversation was very hush. You smile sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess I'll play it safer next time. Oh, come on, we're all celebrities here, I think everyone knows about Ryujin and I by now. And Karina too. And you, and Yunjin, and Yeonjun, and—"

He laughs. "You're so funny. Seriously, you're going to give me a heart attack."

You snort. "Alright, alright, whatever. But you're done with her?"

"Yeah, well," Soobin leans in to whisper, "she's been killing me recently."

You don't need him to elaborate further. You understand. "Sorry to hear that. She's a lot of work, huh?"

"Don't I know it." He takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. "But it's fine. I mean, it's not like it's just me. Everyone else is dealing with it, too. I feel bad for the guy she's dating now."

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

Soobin chuckles. "Oh yeah, sure. You're a real saint, you know that? I don't know how you manage her, let alone all the other girls."

"It's not that hard," you say, smirking. "You just gotta be smart about it."

Soobin nods, taking another swig of his drink. "You make it sound like a piece of cake. I think I need a break for now."

"Alright, thanks for letting me know. You didn't have to, or anything, it's really between you and her, but whatever. You're a great guy. If you ever want to try again, I'm sure she's down, but you could let me know too. I'll put in a good word." You bump his shoulder. "Just buy me some chicken or something."

"Deal," Soobin says. You're about to leave before you hear Soobin say, "Yeah." He laughs, maybe a tad too loudly, and shakes his head in disbelief. "You're so ridiculous. This is so ridiculous."

The two of you exchange a brief hug before parting ways, leaving you alone in the crowd of people. You take out your phone and check the messages from Karina, asking if you're free tonight. You know she's probably upstairs hanging out with the JYP girls, like Chaeyoung and Haewon, although you're not sure who else is at this party. But, as much as you'd like to, you can't be everywhere. You send a reply that you're still busy drinking with Minji and Jiwon, and you'll see her soon enough.

As you slip your phone back into your pocket, a familiar deep voice cuts through the ambient noise and captures your attention. "Hey, babe. You got a moment?"

You turn, and there she is, Ryujin, approaching with her signature magnetic allure. Clad in a black minidress that clings to her curves, her stilettos click against the ground with each step. You can tell she isn't bothering with a bra underneath, as her chest sways with each movement, her nipples straining against the fabric. Her flawless makeup accentuates her features, while soft waves of hair cascade around her shoulders. "Sure," you reply, unable to resist the pull she has on you, and then embrace her in a quick hug.

Grabbing your arm, Ryujin pulls you closer. "I need you. Now."

"For what?" you respond, unable to suppress a smirk.

She licks her lips. "How about we go somewhere more private?"

You nod, your heartbeat quickening at the thought. It's not like this is your first time with her, but it always feels like it. Her presence has a way of commanding attention, especially when she's looking as sexy as she is now. "Lead the way."

The two of you make your way through the crowd of people, heading towards the stairs. You catch sight of Yuna and Yeji on the second-floor landing, speaking animatedly with a group of people. Avoiding eye contact with Yeji (things are complicated enough as is), you instead make eye contact with Karina in the circle. You're not sure you can decipher her expression so quickly, but she waves at you and smiles, before returning to whatever conversation she's having. Return the gesture and keep following Ryujin, who leads you down the hall. You notice a couple making out against the wall, and Ryujin glances at them before giving you a wink. She pulls you into one of the rooms, closes the door behind you.

The room is shrouded in darkness, with only a faint glow seeping in from underneath the door. "I didn't realize you had such a spacious house," you remark, taking in your surroundings.

"Tsk, I wish. But I don't feel like wasting time talking." She sits down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. "Come here. I want you."

A moth to a flame, you stand before her. "You're awfully pushy today."

She giggles. "What can I say? Sometimes, I like having you to myself. Especially when you look like that." Every time Ryujin compliments your appearance, a tinge of self-consciousness washes over you, a person who typically pays little attention to clothing choices. Tonight, it's a simple black button-up shirt and jeans. She reaches out and runs her fingers over the fabric of your shirt and tugs at the buttons until they come undone one by one. "Ah, that's better. Let me get a good look at you."

You understand why men and women alike fall under her spell—the precision with which she controls each word, every action, and the way she effortlessly stirs desire within you. Helpless, you stand there as she takes in the sight of your bare chest, her fingers tracing the contours of your stomach. "You're so strong," she murmurs. "I love that about you."

"Yeah, well, I have to keep up with you." You lean forward, place your hands on her shoulders, then push her back until she's lying down. You hover over her. "Heard you've been wearing out some poor soul."

Ryujin smirks as hands slide up your arms. "Oh, you heard about that? I guess word gets around fast."

"Is that all you've been doing while I've been busy?" you ask, your hand caressing her thigh with deliberate slowness.

"I wouldn't say that. I've been keeping myself entertained." She bites her lip. "I know you have. You should have recorded Arin doing anal. That must've been so hot. You know how many times I made myself cum just remembering how you described it? Fuuck, fuck... I'm already getting wet again."

You palm her breast through her dress, your grip not staying kind for long. You grin at the pretty noise she makes."Yeah, it was pretty amazing. But I think we both know what's even better."

"You're right. I want you inside me."

You slide your hand further up her leg, closer to her core. "Say it."

Whatever might have been in the air, alcohol or static or lust made into the scent of a room, a knock at the door clears it.

"It... it's me. Karina," comes a muffled, hesitant voice.

"Shit," Ryujin mutters. "Just a second." She pushes you back gently and rises to open the door.

And there she is, Karina, standing before you in the flesh, clad in a similarly tight and black outfit as Ryujin. Her dress, though not revealing as much leg, compensates with an open back that adds to her allure. The two girls embrace each other before stepping inside and closing the door. Then Ryujin goes in for a kiss; it's like watching a movie. They start slow, then it gets heated too soon as her body folds into Ryujin's. Maybe Ryujin was right—you could feel a pang of jealousy seeing your girlfriend with your ex. You're not sure you've ever kissed either woman with as much fervor, at least not Karina. When they part, it's as though you've just watched the most beautiful scene in a film, and you're still trying to process the emotions it evoked.

"Hi. Ryujin. Hi, hi," Karina says to Ryujin, her voice quiet. She looks at you. "Hi, Oppa."

"Hey," you reply. "What's up?"

"I saw the both of you heading in here, and I was... I had, had to know..." Already, she's out of breath, worked up.

Ryujin pulls Karina closer, locking the door behind them, and the three of you settle into a circle on the bed. "What did you need to know, Karina?" Ryujin asks, leaning in closer to the other girl.

"I-I'm sorry for following you here," Karina stammers, her gaze fixed on the floor as she folds her hands in her lap.

"Don't worry, you're not interrupting anything," Ryujin assures her with a smile, intertwining their fingers. "We were just talking."

Karina's eyes briefly flicker over your bare torso. "Are you sure?" she asks.

"Mhm. In fact, I think you arrived at the perfect time," Ryujin replies, planting a quick kiss on Karina's cheek. "I think we all need this tonight."

Karina nods slowly. "Okay... if you're sure." After a prolonged pause, she sighs and shakes her head. "I'm sorry if I've ruined things between the two of you. Ever since that date, I've been acting weird, and I'm sure you've noticed. But I don't want to jeopardize your relationship or anything like that."

Exchanging a meaningful glance with Ryujin, who seems amused by the situation, you turn to Karina and speak reassuringly: "It's fine. We understand. And, for what it's worth, you haven't ruined anything. In fact, I think you've helped us." You've reiterated this many times before to Karina, but insecurity lingers, understandably so.

Ryujin grins, sparkling eyes. "Yes, you've been quite the help." She wraps an arm around Karina's waist, pulls her closer, and places a tender kiss on her cheek. "You're amazing."

Karina blushes. "I'm glad."

"Come on," Ryujin says. "We can keep going from where we left off before you so rudely interrupted us."

"I don't know," Karina admits, shaking her head. Her cross necklace bounces against her chest as her gaze lingers on your exposed upper body. You catch the way she bites her lower lip, the way her pupils dilate with desire whenever her eyes meet yours.

"God, you're so cute," Ryujin says, deeply. "You know that?"

"You're not helping," Karina mumbles.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?" Ryujin asks as she cups Karina's face and turns it towards her.

Karina swallows hard. "This is wrong. You know this isn't right. We, what we've been doing, we were just, playing around. Pretending, like... we're not really..."

Ryujin silences her protest. Kisses her deeply. Tongue slips into the other girl's mouth. Karina melts into the kiss while Ryujin's hand slips under her skirt. Ryujin pulls away, panting. "Does that feel wrong?"

"No," Karina breathes out. "Yes. It feels so wrong, oh my god. T-two women, we, shouldn't... no... no, this is bad... this is really bad."

Ryujin puts her lips on Karina's neck. "If you want me to stop, just tell me."

You've never been so aroused in your life, seeing your girlfriend kiss your ex-girlfriend, watching them make out, their bodies pressed together. It's almost surreal, but at the same time, it feels natural. This is how the world is supposed to be, or at least how it's supposed to repay you, Ryujin, and especially Karina. For now, you don't mind being witness to this spectacle, as long as you get a taste of the action.

"Don't stop," Karina whispers, her voice husky. "Please, Ryujin."

Ryujin looks at you, and she knows how badly you want to join in; her eyes tell you that. But you also know she wants to take her time with Karina, to savor every moment. She turns her attention back to the girl beneath her, kisses her again, and explores her mouth with her tongue. Karina is vocal to Ryujin's every touch, starting from fingers running through dark hair, moving down to gentle massages of her neck and shoulder—then, a less gentle kneading of Karina's ample chest over her dress.

There's a plea in Karina's eyes. Please, don't let me moan so deeply, at this lecherous act, at this outright lust. Ryujin does not listen—how can she, above the music outside and the sweet noises coming from her lover? She gropes Karina's breasts with greater intensity and slides her knee between Karina's legs. That knee is a weapon of seduction and lust, and with its power, Ryujin grinds her leg against the crotch of Karina's panties.

Karina's eyes roll back. Ryujin moves down Karina's body, a serpent or a nymph or a succubus, which is enough to make Karina give in and wrap her legs around Ryujin's waist, her arms around Ryujin's neck.

"That's it," Ryujin coos, the temptation of one goddess to make another fall where she stands, assuming she can stand at all when under such a spell. "Give in to your desires."

Your eyes scan over Ryujin's body: smooth thighs wrapped in black stockings, the curve of her ass—which she emphasizes as she sits back and spreads her legs—and a;. "Just let go, baby. Give yourself to me."

You can see the conflict in Karina's eyes. She wants to do as Ryujin says, but she also doesn't want to betray her principles. (What principals, you might ask; this isn't Sunday school.) You wonder how far you can push her. You move closer to them, your hand reaching out and touching Karina's arm. Her eyes snap open with wide-eyed shock.

"It's okay," you say softly. "Just relax."

"But..." Karina trails off, looking away. "I... I can't."

"You can," Ryujin says, kissing her neck. "Because," Ryujin's voice lowers, "you're a good girl."

Karina bites her lip though Ryujin is the one with fangs.

"Yeah, that's it. You're such a good girl." Ryujin licks at her neck, and the girl shivers, but she leans in closer to her touch. "My good girl," Ryujin repeats as if saying it will make it so, and the world has a funny way of answering Ryujin. "Aren't you?"

The devil's flaw was that he was but one creature: you, by contrast, are an accomplice to Ryujin's game. "Yes, you are." You lean down and kiss Karina's cheek, so she shivers at the contact. You press your lips against her ear. "You're a good girl."

Ryujin matches your every peck with one of her own. The twin pair makes her mind melt along with her body, and soon, you've worked her into a fever pitch.

"Fuck," Karina whispers, to make sure the profanity doesn't reach whoever might punish her. She's too loud, too late for that, and you're not complaining. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You look at Ryujin, who has an approving smile on her lips, which nip at Karina's skin. Between long kisses and short breaths, Ryujin asks, "What do you think Oppa and I were doing when you showed up?"

"I don't know," Karina responds. "I, I really don't know."

Rest your hands on Karina's hips and kiss her deeply. She gasps as you bite her bottom lip, sucking it between your teeth. When you let go, your voice commanding and low, you say, "Be honest. You know. I bet you pictured it as soon as we walked past you. I bet you picture it every time you see me and Ryujin together."

"I..."

"Karina, I know you touch yourself. All the time," Ryujin says, her hand caressing Karina's thigh. "It's obvious. Even a few days ago, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, and you came back looking all flustered and embarrassed."

Karina's face flushes red, her eyes darting away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on," Ryujin says. "Don't try to hide it. You were thinking about me and Oppa fucking. You wanted to watch. To join us." She kisses Karina again, her hands gripping the girl's hips, pulling her closer. "You want it so bad, don't you? And so you followed us here. You're such a naughty girl."

She denies it for a third time. A rooster crows. "I... I'm sorry," Karina says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay. I don't mind. I like it." Ryujin smiles, her eyes locked with Karina's. "But you know what I like even more? What I want most? It's for you to finally be honest with yourself. I know you're still holding back. I know you want to give in. Don't you?"

Karina looks between you and Ryujin, her eyes full of uncertainty and desire.

You step in, addressing Ryujin. "Baby. She clearly has a lot on her mind. I have an idea. How about while she thinks about her decision, you and I do what we were planning for a while."

"Mmm," Ryujin smiles at you, steps closer to your embrace. "I like the sound of that, Oppa."

Holding Karina's shoulders, you say, "If you want to go, that's fine. If you want to just watch, that's fine, too. Or, if you want to try something, Ryujin and I can help you, right baby?"

Ryujin nods, and Karina nods too, with all the certainty a mumbling mouse would possess.

"S-so, what do, what do I do?" Karina asks.

Ryujin gestures at her. "Sit on the bed. There, good, thank you." Then, Ryujin wraps her legs around you, her arms embracing your neck and kissing you hard. "You better give Karina a show."

"What did you have in mind?" you ask.

"The usual," Ryujin says, keeping her face close.

The usual involves you and Ryujin having a lot fewer clothes by now; however, after you're disrobed to your bare essentials, you stop Ryujin from doing the same—you like the way that the dress clings to her figure, the fabric hiking up past her thighs, so instead, you only tug away her panties from under the dress.

"This is all about Karina," you say to Ryujin, making sure you're loud enough for your ex to hear. You put Ryujin on the bed and kiss her neck, your hands sliding over her body, moving up her dress. "I'm gonna fuck you while I look at her, pretend like it's her."

"Oh my god, that's so fucking hot," Ryujin says, her voice strained.

You grab Ryujin's jaw and turn her head, so she looks at Karina. You speak in a low whisper in her ear, "I'm gonna make you scream for her."

"Yes, yes, yes..."

The stage is set. Now, it's time to begin the performance. For the first act, much-chided missionary—as much as Ryujin and you love exploring positions, there are times when you just want to be inside each other. This is exactly one of those times, especially in service of poor and sweet Karina, who you're unsure if she's ever seen this much sex in her life. And the promise is that you're fucking Ryujin as you would—will—Karina, so let the virginal girl see how it's done. Ryujin lies on the bed, her dress pushed up to her hips. Inspired by Karina's cleavage, you take the neckline of Ryujin's dress and push it down, revealing her breasts. They're a tad smaller than Karina's, but still nice. Her nipples are hard and flushed pink, a perfect match to the blush on her face.

You kneel between her legs, stroking your cock.

"Is this how you want me?" she asks, putting on a cute voice, while she reaches a hand down to spread her pussy open. "Am I a good girl, Oppa?"

"You're so sexy," you say, leaning forward to kiss her. "I love you."

"Mmm, I love you too," she says, moaning as your cock brushes against her pussy. More severely—"Now fuck me. Fuck me like you want to fuck Karina."

You nod, lining yourself up with Ryujin's entrance, and as promised instead of looking into your sweet girlfriend's eyes, you look over at Karina. She's frozen in place, her mouth hanging open. You give her a smile before pushing inside Ryujin, your cock sliding easily into her wet hole. But as much as you savor the familiar feeling of Ryujin's tight pussy wrapped around your cock, you focus on Karina. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks are flushed, and her breathing is heavy. She looks so gorgeous. You start to thrust slowly into Ryujin, trying to imagine it's her instead.

Karina holds her hands in front of her mouth, watching as you continue to pump into Ryujin. The contrast between you and Ryujin's slutty moans and the innocent gaze of her former lover gives you a sexual cocktail you can never get enough of. Ryujin hooks her legs around your waist, forcing you deeper into her pussy. Your hands grip her hips tightly as you fuck her harder. Your eyes are locked on Karina's, your voice is husky and low.

"I wonder if you're just as tight. Or wet. Don't you want to know? Just come over here. Come feel. You'll see."

Karina swallows hard while her eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She licks her lips, and her fingers fidget nervously. The desire in her eyes, the need to give in to her urges, the hunger is like pain and sorrow and conflict and it might make you apologize if you were a better man but you're a worse man, and happier for being so. Her eyes dart from your face to Ryujin's, and you notice her dress shift the barest amount—was she touching herself?

"Come on," Ryujin says, panting. "Don't be shy."

Karina hesitates, then slowly gets up and approaches the bed. She sits next to you, her eyes fixed on your cock sliding in and out of Ryujin's pussy. You lean over and kiss her cheek, your breath hot against her skin. "You can touch it," you whisper.

She takes a deep breath and places her hand on your cock, gasping as she feels the heat radiating from your member; it's slick with Ryujin's juices. Karina runs her fingers over your shaft, exploring every inch of it. "So big," she murmurs, her voice barely audible.

You thrust harder into Ryujin to earn her nails digging into your back, an often-earned and always-treasured hurt. "Yes, yes, yes," she cries, contorts, and arches her back while her pussy tightens around your cock. "Fuck me harder. Show me how you'd fuck Karina."

Pace picks up. You have your hands on Ryujin's breasts, but as much as you love your girlfriend's body, all you can think about is Karina's more sizeable and weighty and all-around better tits. There is no need to consult Ryujin about this—it is the truth, self-evident and wholly transparent, and you know she would be glad to get a feel or taste of them for herself.

Not letting your imagination go to waste, you turn to Karina, kissing her neck softly, then move down to her chest. She gasps as you cup her breast with your free hand, kneading it firmly, enough that you can feel her nipple hardening against your palm through the fabric of her dress. "Mmm, you're so soft." Your voice is low and husky.

Ryujin's voice is high and whining: "Your cock feels so good." She reaches down to rub her clit. "And her tits... fuck, baby, I want to feel them too."

Despite her suggestion, Karina is locked in place, shuddering under your touch as you continue to squeeze her chest like putty in your hands. Her lips part slightly as she lets out a soft moan; the sight of you fucking Ryujin must be driving her insane, must be the first thing she pictured when she saw you and Ryujin together for the first time, must be replaying in her mind over and over again. You can tell by the way her pupils dilate whenever you thrust into Ryujin's pussy, how her breath quickens as you caress her breast, and how her hips buck involuntarily when you pinch her nipple.

"Can you hear how wet Ryujin is? She's so turned on by the thought of me fucking you. The way I'm treating her like a little toy." Every time your shaft hilts, the sound of squishing and cum dripping along with her, it's a noise that is both obscene and arousing, a noise that can only come from the worldly pleasures of the flesh. You're making a mess out of Ryujin, as always. "So are you, Karina?"

She nods, slower than the pot boiling over, slower than a clock ticking—certainly slower than the heat rising within her body.

Ryujin turns and faces Karina. "He's so big. He's filling me up... and he's gonna fill me up so good. This could be you, Karina. He could fuck you so good, fuck!"

"I... I can't," Karina whispers, her voice trembling. "I shouldn't... my first time... marriage."

"Forget marriage. You want to, don't you?" you ask, kissing her neck.

"I don't know," she says, shaking her head.

"It's okay," Ryujin says, her voice breathy and strained. "We won't tell anyone. Just let go."

You pull out of Ryujin, making her whine in protest. You look at Karina. "Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to feel my cock inside you?" You take her wrist and place her hand on your dick, to let her feel how hard it is. "You can touch it again. See how much I want you."

Karina lets out a small whimper as she feels your cock throb in her hand. She strokes it with the sureness of a surgeon who's never seen a body, her eyes locked on your anatomy. The call for your name is barely audible, rings in your ears all the same.

"Do you want to see how good I make Ryujin feel? How she screams for me?"

Listen, the delicious desperation in Karina's voice. "I do." She says it like she's responding a different question she's made up in your head—here, you can do it too: do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband—and the excuses fall away from her like dead leaves from the branches in winter. She's thawed out, blissful and necessary to touch and so very warm.

You position yourself behind Karina, kissing her neck softly as you unzip her dress. You push it down her shoulders, revealing the pale skin of her back and her underwear, the matching black bra and panties.

Ryujin massages Karina's core through her panties, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she watches the other girl writhe in pleasure. "You're soaking wet."

"I'm not," Karina protests weakly.

Ryujin continues stroking Karina's pussy over her panties, drawing another moan from the girl beneath her. "Mhm. Sure."

"How about this, baby girl? We can take it slow. Take off your panties, and spread your legs, just a little bit, and I'll just rub the tip of my cock on your pussy. Then we can play with your thighs." You whisper into her ear, "If you want me to stop, just say the word. But I think you want it."

Karina shivers and breathes faster yet just nods silently. Lifts her hips and slides her panties off. Drops them dead to the floor. Spreads her legs.

You've waited so long. Not just tonight. Not just since she last broke up. Not just when you became friends or when you were still in love. It's been months and years of wanting; it's everything, and more. Of all the women who have come and gone from your life, Karina's presence remains undisturbed and ever-present—a ghost that haunts the halls of your heart with a sweet and melancholy song. Her skin is so soft under your fingers as you caress her thigh. You examine her with reverence and wonder, most of all her pussy, because of all the women you've seen (and you've seen a lot), Karina has the nicest pussy, a perfect and pink pussy, one that is begging to be filled by your cock.

"That's it," you murmur. Run your fingers through her wet folds and grab her ass with one hand. "Such a good girl."

You press the tip of your cock against her entrance. "Wait, w-wait," Karina stammers, her eyes wide with panic.

Ryujin strokes her hair and grabs your shaft, aligning it away from Karina's virginity. "Shh, it's okay. Just relax." She presses your cock against Karina's clit, rubbing it up and down, and Karina gasps, her body tensing. "Does that feel good?"

"Do you like it when I rub your pussy with my cock?" you ask.

"Mmm… yes," Karina says.

"Good." Ryujin keeps stroking your cock against Karina's sensitive nub, which draws another moan from the girl. Karina squirms and her face flushes a deep crimson. "Let him play with your tits."

"Oh my god," Karina gasps, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. You reach around and cup her breasts through her bra—you're closer to her nipples this way, can pinch them between your fingers easily—before you finally free them from their restraints. They're so much softer than Ryujin's—softer than anything you've ever felt. Your fingers knead the tender flesh of her chest, reveling in the way they fit perfectly in your palms, and the nubs are a stiff pink against her pale skin. "Oh god."

"I think she likes this," you say with a chuckle. "I'm going to make you feel so good." You push your cock between her thighs, rub it against her pussy, and savor the way she clamps her legs together. "Fuck, that's hot."

Karina whimpers, squirms underneath you, but you grip her hips to keep her still. As you slide from in and out of her thighs, Ryujin bends over, placing kisses on Karina's waist—then her mouth aims lower. Karina cries out as Ryujin begins to lick her pussy. You've never seen your girlfriend eat with this much gusto before, slurping and sucking at the other girl's juices like they're the tastiest dessert on earth. Without a doubt, Ryujin loves what she's doing.

"Oh god, oh fuck!" Karina does too.

You thrust through Karina's legs, and Ryujin sucks on your tip as it pokes out. Karina is falling apart at the seams, amidst the friction of your length, the ministration of Ryujin's mouth, and just from how guilty and great it all feels.

"Good, good girl," Ryujin says. "This is okay, right? You can still be a good girl."

"I... yes," Karina says breathily. "I'm, I'm a good girl."

You suck on Karina's neck, nibbling at her flesh as your cock grinds against her soaked slit, wet enough to make a mess of her thighs, of Ryujin's lips, of your dick. It could be so easy to just thrust your entire length inside her, until you're balls deep, and do your job. You can taste her nervousness. You can feel it in the way her body tenses, the way she grips the sheets with white knuckles.

"You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

Karina only replies to Ryujin with a whimper. Ryujin smiles as she runs her tongue along Karina's pussy again, then when she suctions hard on her clit, Karina cries out. "Since you're such a good girl..." Ryujin says. "You shouldn't cum. A good girl shouldn't cum... unless Oppa's cock is inside you."

Spreading Karina's legs, Ryujin takes control of your cock to suck and taste Karina's body fluids off of it. Karina can only watch with wide eyes as Ryujin cleans your shaft. She's in even more disbelief when Ryujin pushes her aside to give you a more earnest blowjob, stroking your dick hard with her free hand while she peppers your length with sloppy kisses, especially along the ridge. You can't hold back a barrage of expletives.

Lying next to you in awe, Karina has eyes like a deer in the headlights.

"Do you want something, Karina?" Ryujin asks.

"I want... want to cum."

"Tsk, tsk, didn't I already tell you? Good girls don't get to cum unless it's on Oppa's dick."

Karina's eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She swallows hard, then nods slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?" you ask, stunned at the sudden acquiescence.

"I, I can't take it anymore. I need to cum. Please, Oppa. Fuck me. I want to cum. I need it so bad. I'll do anything."

"Such a good girl," Ryujin says, her voice husky. She positions herself behind Karina, wrapping her arms around the girl's body and cupping her breasts. Karina is on her back, just as Ryujin had been before, but now she receives Ryujin's continual praise. "You're so beautiful. You're such a good girl. You deserve this."

You kneel before Karina and take in the sight of her lying there, looking up at you with wide eyes full of uncertainty. That was the same uncertainty as the first time you asked her out, years ago. The uncertainty when you tried the first time to get into her pants—she's never let you go very far past kissing. The same uncertainty when the two of you had to break up. That uncertainty when she learned you and Ryujin were dating. And now, as Ryujin deepens the kiss, your gaze locks with Karina's, and she's just as nervous and aroused as she's ever been. You push Karina's knees apart and run your fingers through her wet folds.

Karina watches as you line yourself up with her entrance, her chest heaving as she holds her breath in anticipation.

"Are you ready?" you ask, your voice low and husky. Your hand travels from her hip to her smooth, flat stomach. Then, you grab Ryujin's hand as it rests on Karina's soft and heavy chest, now exposed to the air and free to be touched, squeezed, and played with by all of you. You can't believe you're going to be doing this—your ex and your current girlfriend, all while you watch in awe. This is the life of the party, not the loud music, nor the rowdy crowds, nor the alcohol. This is real.

Karina looks at your cock, unable to believe the size of it, or unable to look you in the eye—Ryujin takes hold of your shaft and rubs it against Karina's pussy, and at the same time, grabs Karina's chin to force her to look into your eyes. "Answer him," she says.

"I'm ready," Karina murmurs.

"What? We couldn't hear you, babe," you say with a smirk. You press the tip of your cock against her entrance and push it inside an inch, making her gasp as you stretch her pussy.

"Oh my god" sounds perfect out of Karina's mouth, a sobbed, whiny, desperate moan of a blasphemer who needs to be redeemed in your arms, so different from the deep and throaty moans of Ryujin. It's so cute, just like Ryujin said. A cute virgin girl who's so caught up in this moment, in how your length fills her up like the most worthwhile sin. And as you disappear within Karina's folds, inch by inch, she stares up at you with a mixture of pain and pleasure, her body shaking with every new sensation.

"Say it," Ryujin says firmly.

Karina swallows hard and looks into your eyes. Her voice is barely above a whisper, "Please fuck me, Oppa."

That's enough for you, enough for Ryujin to rub her clit and pinch her nipple and suck on her neck; so the fact that you're a handful of strokes in and she's already cumming isn't unexpected, but her reaction is. She thrashes around under you as wave after wave of ecstasy hits her. It's all you can do to hold her steady, gripping her hips and burying yourself balls deep inside her. Such a powerful climax must've been made even more so by how you continue to pound into her. She's overwhelmed, overloaded—over the edge—with pleasure.

"Oh god, oh god," she chants, her body trembling. "Oh my god."

It's almost a pity Karina cums so easily, instead of having her work for it, like a good girl; but it's only the first round of the night, and she has all the time to learn how to earn an orgasm.

"Woah," Ryujin says, expression impressed as she watches Karina squirm. "She came fast."

Karina opens her eyes to meet your gaze. "I... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? No, it's okay," Ryujin reassures her.

Karina nods slowly, tears welling up in her eyes.

You take advantage of how you're still buried within Karina's depths to reach down and kiss away one of her tears. Something inside you makes you think that isn't the reason why she's apologizing, but it's close enough for now. It doesn't matter. You're going to fuck the guilt out of Karina until she takes the lord's name only in vein as it molds her pussy. "You can worry about apologizing after you show us how long you can keep up with us," you say, smirking as you pull out of her slowly, until the head of your cock is the only part of your shaft that still fills her entrance.

Ryujin runs her hand through Karina's hair, wiping away her tears and looking into her eyes. "You're so sexy." Her voice is a seductive whisper. "You know that?" She reaches down and caresses Karina's cheek before pressing her lips against hers, kissing her deeply. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"

Karina breaks eye contact, unable to hold Ryujin's intense stare. "I... I had no idea," she replies in a whisper.

You thrust into Karina again, burying your length inside her and drawing a cry of pleasure from the girl beneath you. You repeat this slow movement again and again and again—for every thrust, Ryujin kisses Karina on the lips, cheeks, neck, ear—while whispering praises into her ears, while making her feel like an angel sent from heaven while keeping her mind on her and you as you take her virginity. You can see how badly she wants to hold onto the last shreds of whatever holding her back, to resist Ryujin's advances, but the more you and Ryujin work in tandem to force these moans out of her throat, the less she holds onto.

Oh, you have plenty to hold onto. You could spend the rest of your life pontificating about Karina's tits, and it feels like the rest of your life because if you die right on the hills that you're sinking fingers into, massaging—even smacking to leave your mark and watch how they recoil—then you'd die the greatest man to have ever lived. And what else is there to be?

Where else is there to be but where you are now, to be in Karina's pussy, clenching and unclenching around your dick like your cock is a part of her body? (Might as well be.)

If this were a place, you can imagine the city.

By the trumpet cry, the walls have fallen—shit, if you had any shame, it'd be gone by the time Ryujin's mouth got to work; Karina is no greater than you as a mess of moans and sobs, murmurs, and curses as she lies there on her back with a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes while Ryujin moves between the two of you to capture either clit or cock in her mouth, exchanging between the two. Whenever you're focused on pistoning inside Karina's pussy, she's lapping away at whatever is exposed to the air. Whenever you pull out for a break or to change positions, Ryujin takes a few moments to tongue Karina's slit or to taste her juices off your cock. So how could there be resistance; how could there be any hesitation in Karina's body as she lies back, letting you take complete control of her body while Ryujin does as she pleases, a perfect storm of two dominant lovers ravaging this sweet, submissive flower who had been too long neglected.

Now, over embarrassment or guilt—Karina is a slut at heart. No, a bitch. A bitch who can't stop crying and moaning out your name because the two of you are putting in work to make her feel so fucking good. And she takes it, and she takes it, and she takes it. Would she have ever acted like this with anyone else? You don't think, even alone, you could ever turn Karina into such a sloppy, slutty mess. You can only guess that, paired with Ryujin, this is who she truly is.

This is why you and your co-conspirator are so compatible in this regard. You don't need to explain to Ryujin that you want to change positions, or that you're doing so because you need some reprieve; your eyes are enough for her to understand. She's already moving to help as you get Karina in an appropriate position, on all fours so that you can fuck her doggystyle from behind. Of course, it also happens that this lets Ryujin slide underneath Karina and eat her pussy out while your cock slides in and out of her entrance.

There is a hunger pang in Karina's gaze as she looks back. The poor woman drools, saliva dripping onto Ryujin's stomach. It's like she doesn't even notice because the way your cock slides into her so easily is too good, and she has to moan every time your balls slap against her thighs. The best thing about the sight of Karina like this—hair stuck to her face, makeup smeared across her cheeks, body covered in sweat—is the sheer bliss written across her features as she takes whatever pleasure the two of you offer.

Then you look down and see Ryujin's expression. It's not one of lust or desire or satisfaction, but one of amusement. She looks positively amused that you're giving everything to this girl, fucking her like you mean it, and she continues to be amused when Karina lowers her head into the bed, between Ryujin's thighs—Karina wants so badly to taste her girlfriend's pussy, but she doesn't know how, with no idea what to do or how to ask, and again, Ryujin just knows all this by the dumbfounded happy look on your face. To be fair, you're mainly in this unbridled glee at the sight of Karina face-down ass-up, and of Ryujin's face between Karina's legs—but it is true that you've got some sort of telepathy going on, because without a word you both reach a consensus in your minds.

"Don't you want to eat her pussy out?" you ask, tugging gently on Karina's hair so that she raises her head back up. A reprieve from getting fucked like crazy, while you lay your shaft flat on Ryujin's face. "I can smell how much she's been needing it."

"Your dick, dick, it's so... ah, hngh, put it back in, put it back in.!"

"Don't try to think about what Oppa's doing," Ryujin coos. "I'm right here." She wraps her arms around Karina's hips and pulls her closer, bringing her pussy closer to the other girl's lips, and you pull back to give them room. "Right here."

You're fine to sit back and enjoy the show while you watch Karina sixty-nine atop your girlfriend. Karina, still unsure what she's doing, stares down at Ryujin for a few long seconds before finally leaning in to give her an experimental lick. Then she closes her eyes and loses herself to the moment as she tastes Ryujin's essence for the first time.

"Good girl," Ryujin sighs as Karina's tongue enters her pussy. "Oppa is so jealous right now, he loves eating pussy. But your tight virgin hole was too good for me to pass up. If you don't know what to do, just follow what I'm doing."

The sight of Ryujin with her lips pressed against Karina's mound while Karina's head bobs up and down between Ryujin's legs makes you incredibly hard, but since you were already as hard as a diamond from fucking Karina so much, you're not sure what lab is going to need your dick, but there must be one doing incredibly important science that will save humanity that could use you for a research study. Karina has never done this before, because you hear her complain about her jaw and how it hurts, but she is so fucking cute.

You can hear her moans as Ryujin's mouth works its magic on Karina's folds, and the way Ryujin rolls her hips against Karina's face says plenty about how she's feeling too. You can understand: even the most amateur mouth is enough when you're getting worked so enthusiastically over. It's just a fact of life.

Maybe you do know guilt, even if you don't feel it, understand it as one might a distant cousin or a person you elected, but never met personally; it doesn't stop you from interjecting into the action with your cock sliding into the space between them: Karina's tender pussy lips and Ryujin's greedy mouth becomes the two cushion that you are sandwiched in-between. The sensation of being between them, the juices that drip onto your length, the saliva that moistens it, the moans that surround it, it is like nothing you've felt before. You're no stranger to having your shaft between two pairs of lips; whenever Ryujin invites one of her many friends to a threesome, there will usually be some oral exchange or another between whoever is getting railed by you and your girlfriend, but this is so different. This is so much more intimate. You look down and see Karina looking back and up at you.

Karina's eyes widen as you thrust your cock between her folds. "Ah... ahh, what?" She turns her head and stares at you with wild eyes, her expression full of surprise and confusion. "What... what are you doing?" She's asking, but she's also grinding back against you, making it clear that she enjoys the feeling of your length sliding along her folds.

"Mmm," Ryujin murmurs against Karina's mound. Her lips press against your cock and she smiles before letting out a soft moan, sucking the tip of your shaft. "This is so hot."

Karina gasps as Ryujin sucks on your cock, taking it into her mouth and licking your length with her tongue. She keeps grinding back against you—too late for her, your dick is down your girlfriend's throat—and thus in her depravity, Karina rubs her pussy against Ryujin's neck where it bulges with every push forward. Your girlfriend is throating you while she gets her pussy eaten out by a woman who should be innocent of such acts of debauchery—yet, one night is all it took for Karina to realize how wrong she's been. There's no use praying away the gay (praying bye to the bi, by the by), not when there's sin in its place. But in truth, this is not one night but the culmination of so much pent-up tension and need. So much waiting around. So much taking care of and consoling, and it's not that you were doing these on purpose, but if you had one unspoken truth between you and Ryujin—

It's that she and any man or any woman, other than you and Ryujin, had no chance of working out by your hands, by hers—but here, tonight, all of those months of patience have paid off for you and your lover. It doesn't matter if Karina didn't want to do this, didn't expect to do this; this was always meant to be her fate like missionaries planting the seeds of their religion into the soil of native lands.

You're anxious you might plant your seed in a place already well-tilled by yourself: Ryujin's stomach. It is not long before both of them start cumming like crazy, and all you can do is keep pounding your cock against your girlfriend's throat—as much as you told yourself you would hold back—while Karina squeals against her pussy, your shaft getting coated in saliva and pussy juice as the two of them orgasm together. You suppose that Karina's oral skills were only sufficient in making Ryujin cum because of the way your cock deprived your girlfriend of air—the orgasms whenever you choke Ryujin are always so intense; you're certain you'd find the same results if Karina's mouth wasn't being put to other uses.

Ryujin finally pulls away, gasping for air as you release her hair. Your cock slides out of her mouth and you slap it across her face a few times before turning your attention back to Karina. She looks back at you with a dazed expression, her body trembling from her climax. You grab her hips and thrust your cock into her tight pussy, making her cry out as you fill her to her wit's end.

"I'm sorry," she says, looking back at you with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hold it back anymore."

Ryujin laughs as she kisses Karina passionately and tastes herself on the other girl's lips. "Don't apologize, baby girl," she says between kisses. "It's okay." She puts her hand on Karina's chest and massages her tits gently as she continues to kiss her. Ryujin turns to look at you, her hand on Karina's cheek.

This is that lie-down and get-ready-to-be-ridden position, and your blood has been boiling all night, ready to be unleashed. Karina and Ryujin both have the kind of ass that makes you want to spank it red until they cry and beg you to stop, but tonight's not about that. Tonight, as Ryujin slides onto your lap, taking your cock inside her with ease, you know there's no stopping either of them.

Normally, you would be saddened by the fact you can't see your girlfriend's face, but it's a fair trade-off, if only for the smacking sounds of Karina and Ryujin's kisses. And then, there's the way that Karina leaves a trail of girl-cum along your abs, as she first takes whatever friction she can find between your abdomen and her cunt, grinding along your stomach; after that, however, she's set on making your face her personal seat, which is fine by you. This is the throne of a god, not one to sit on and rule and dictate and limit, but one to be as, to transform into, to understand and connect with the people who pray for your attention—and Karina wants nothing more than that connection right now.

"I'm sorry I didn't do better," she says between kisses, holding your face in her hands. "I'm sorry I came so fast. I'm sorry we didn't do this sooner. I'm sorry with being with..." She chokes back a sob before continuing. "I'm sorry."

You've never needed an apology, and less so right now: your girlfriend is currently riding your cock like it's going out of style, and Karina manages to say all that without looking at your face—how can she? You can't even laugh at the irony, your every breath dedicated to what oxygen you can get before diving back into the wet heat of her pussy.

"Do you want to be a good girl?" Ryujin asks breathlessly as she bounces up and down on your shaft, her ass slapping against your thighs.

"I want to be a good girl," Karina murmurs as she grinds her pussy against your mouth.

Ryujin grabs Karina's ass and squeezes it tightly. "Stop saying you're sorry," she says between gasps.

Karina looks down at you and bites her lip. "I... I don't know how."

Ryujin pauses her ride, leaning forward and running her hands along Karina's body. "Well, you can beg to ride this beautiful, fffugh, dick..." Her hands move down to your stomach, and she starts grinding back and forth against your cock. "I love it." She turns and smiles at Karina, "He loves it when a girl rides him, and he loves it when I ride him the most. You know how many girls get to ride Oppa? But I'm the best at it."

You understand this angle. If there's one sin Karina might admit to, it's jealousy. She was always a bit competitive with you—nothing too malicious, just a need to be the best; and you're fine to indulge her. You grab Karina's ass and slap it gently, then squeeze her cheeks and spread them apart. "She's right, you know," you say, your voice low and husky.

Ryujin chuckles, shaking her head. "Of course I am," she says with a smirk, turning to look back at you.

You play with Karina's ass for a few moments before grabbing her hips and pulling her closer, bringing your face back to her mound. You press your lips against her pussy and kiss her tenderly. Your tongue slips between her folds and you lick her slowly. She tastes so sweet.

"Oh god..." Karina gasps, gripping your hair tightly as you lick her pussy. "I have to ride it. It looks, so, so good."

"You have to?" Ryujin asks in a mocking tone. "Oh, so now you're getting bold?"

"I want it," Karina whines. "Please?"

"You'll stop apologizing?" Ryujin asks as she moves off your lap, your cock still slick with her juices.

Karina nods, unable to look away from your length. She crawls up to your lap and elects to ride you reverse cowgirl, but only after Ryujin guides her in with a hand on the small of Karina's back. You don't mind either way—you're glad for this angle, for the underrated sight of Karina's back or her ass. You could trace the bumps of her spine or the dips in her waist. Though the position is naturally no novelty, this woman and all her impossibly perfect curves are, even if only for this night. Her ass is perfect; she has a perfect figure; and you love every inch of her skin, from her smooth shoulders to her soft thighs to her slender legs. Ryujin was right—you do love watching girls ride your cock, especially when they're new to it, when they haven't learned this choreography yet.

Karina has no trouble getting into the rhythm as she works you over like she was born to ride dick. Ryujin is there to support Karina through the process, running her hands along the other girl's body and kissing her passionately as she bounces up and down on your cock. Karina turns to look at you, brows creased, mouth wide open, lips wet with saliva. She can't stop moaning as your cock stretches her tight pussy. It's so adorable the way she tries to be quiet and ends up squealing instead. Her eyes roll back as Ryujin bites her neck and grinds against her body.

"Goddamn, girl," Ryujin whispers breathlessly. "You're so fucking sexy. Maybe you deserve his cum after all."

"Hngh, thank you," Karina says.

Ryujin laughs and grabs Karina's hair to move it out of the way before leaning in to suck on her neck. You can imagine what a mess it's making on her face, especially as sweat drips down her temples. The thing about Karina is that she might be a sloppy mess, but she's still just as pretty as ever, even if that prettiness is marred by the sweat that mats her hair, and the way she looks completely blissed out—even more so than earlier—with her eyes rolled back and her lips parted.

You thrust up into Karina's pussy, making her cry out. Your hands move to her hips and you lift her body up and down along your shaft. She looks at you with tears streaming down her cheeks and smiles.

"Yeah? Thank me?" Ryujin asks. You feel her weigh down against your thigh as she straddles you from the side, sits atop it, grinds back and forth while she reaches behind Karina to fondle your balls.

"Please," Karina begs in a soft voice, looking at you with wide eyes. "Please give me your cum."

You've had your climax postponed for a while, with the break from fucking Karina and the time Ryujin has taken to warm you back up. You're not sure how you'll be able to hold out any longer. Then Ryujin gives a glance. "Cum," she mouths.

That's all you need really. Karina twerks on your cock, forgetting everything she's learned, repeating profanity. All you need. An asscheek to spank and spank, or a breast to squeeze and squeeze until you can see the red handprint on her body, to feel that weight in your palm. A loving and supporting girlfriend to help you out with some verbal encouragement. All you need, and if you asked for anything more from up above, they'd answer like you just knocked the gates of heaven at 3:21 AM, and there's good Saint Peter asking:

"Well, now what? Oh, you want more?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Another sane Levi fic as always.

#aespa smut #itzy smut #kpop smut #male reader #reader insert

1K notes · View notes

mooishbeam · 9 months

Text

『♡』 Losing Game

♡ featuring: ajax x f!reader

♡ summary: simmering feelings boil over as you're confronted by the man you hate the most; tartaglia, your boss. wc: 3.1k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, degradation, humiliation, creampie, squirting, light choking, sadism, throat-fucking, cum play, fingering, overstimulation, brat taming, mind break, pet names (doll, baby)

notes: hiii, the positive response from the last one motivated me to get this done just in time for Fontaine. kinda long this time so sorry abt that. ajax my beloved <3 art by sonomi_rap5 on twitter comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Working for the fatui wasn’t easy in the slightest, especially when you aren’t on harbinger status. You were sent on long, grueling tasks only to be met with loose interpretations of gratitude and sometimes silence from the higher-ups, in which most wouldn’t even glance in your direction. Pleasant beginnings became a sour afterthought, and your perception of the fatui changed drastically. Your grievances, however, weren’t helped by your quick-witted snappy attitude and competitiveness; Presumably why you ended up under the division of Tartaglia. You assumed a binding contract from the capricious redhead wouldn’t mean much, but that was quickly proven false.

You'd rather climb every mountain in Snezhnaya than spend a minute talking to that airhead. He was instructed to keep a watchful eye on you during missions despite the competence you demonstrated. It was insulting. Anything he did you could do better. It’d been proven multiple times from the petty challenges you created. How much water you could drink, how long you can stay up. You won every time. How could you not hate him? His feigned ignorance and careless flirtations were enough to drive you mad. “Please, call me Ajax” he’d say, winking. The simpering smile he gave you after every comeback shot daggers in your pride. What made you particularly furious was the incessant drum of your heart whenever he was near you. The warm autumn morning that was his hair. The cool still waves his eyes sent to your core. You couldn’t fall for him, or else he’d have one up on you. You had to be stronger than that. You quelled your stress in a tattered journal gifted years ago.

“Hey, comrade!” His bubbly tone makes knots in your stomach, and you choose to stay silent. You’re hoping this mission will go without a hitch, as long as he doesn’t get in your way. Ajax lets out a teasing whistle.

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” As you’re collecting the items needed for the deal, he rocks back and forth on his heels directly in front of you, absent-mindedly watching.

You whip your head to face him, “You can’t see I’m doing something right now?”

“Oh, I see what you’re doing. But this isn’t entertaining.”

“Unlike you, your majesty, I have no choice but to be perfect. I apologize if that’s not exciting enough for you.” You retort with sarcastic curtsy.

“Haha! You’re always a pleasure to be around, (Y/N). My faithful, kind-hearted companion.” he said with a taunting wink. You're beyond flustered, haphazardly stuffing the remains in your bag and lugging it over your shoulder.

“Let's go.” You say lazily. He follows closely, arms crossed behind his head. “Calling me like a dog, how romantic.”

“If you don’t want to be called like a dog stop acting like one.”

“You could at least give me a treat if I'm gonna be your dog.” He looks at you, making his best impression of puppy-eyes. You bite back a few choice words, and glare at him instead. He isn’t fazed by this and flashes a beguiling smile that makes your ears warm. Glancing at the weight you’re shouldering, he comments, “You sure you don’t need any help with that?”

“No. The last person I need help from is you.”

You and Ajax regroup in an alleyway deep in Fontaine’s bustling city. You are assigned to retrieve a rare gem for one of Pantalone’s elaborate schemes, and you quickly prepare yourself for this interaction. Ajax studies you, leaning against one of the walls.

“Can’t you be a little nicer to your superior? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be in a lot of trouble half the time. You’re welcome.” You scoff. “I don’t know why you’re here in the first place, I have no problem doing this on my own.”

“I’m sure. Don’t mind me, Ms. Independent.” A sly smirk crawled up his face. “Fucking asshole” you mumble under your breath. “I didn’t catch that. Can you repeat it?”

“I said you’re a fucking asshole.” After a few moments of silence, Ajax grips his chest in feigned agony. “Ouch. I’m gutted!”

Just as you're about to leave, he snatches your wrist, now only mere inches away from your face. His hand gently brushes away the strays of hair on your forehead. “There you go, doll. Gotta be perfect for your debut.” A whirlwind of emotions strangles your ability to think clearly, you pull your wrist away and start speed walking, attempting to gather yourself before you get to the jewelry store.

You enter the empty store and are immediately confronted by the jeweler.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?” You proclaim your business and appointment under a fake identity, posturing yourself as wealthy. “May I see identification please.” Of course, you say. As you’re looking through your purse you notice something: there’s no identification here. Surely you weren’t that negligent over something so simple. You rummaged through the other compartments, trying to stay calm in front of an increasingly concerned jeweler. But it’s not there. How is this possible. Your nerves are heightened and the anxiety of failing the mission starts to creep in. “I made an appointment with Lottie; she’ll be able to provide reference. I believe I left my passport at home.” The jeweler seems slightly disappointed. “Unfortunately, ma’am, I am not allowed to present any gems without identification.” Your heart beats faster. “Well, sir, I’m very busy and I’m afraid this is my only chance to close on this item. You wouldn’t want to push away a well-paying customer.”

“I have no choice in the matter. If you have no proof of identification, I must ask you to leave.” Should I take it by force? You thought, thinking about the next possible option. As you’re about to handle the rest physically, the door swings open. Ajax comes up to you, placing his arm around your waist.

“My love, were you able to get the gem we were discussing?” You’re annoyed, but you improvise and look at him as if he’s the love of your life. “Not yet, dear.” Suddenly, he places a plush kiss on your lips. You’re stunned and speechless, filled with anger and wanting.

The jeweler interjects. “And are you the husband? Would you happen to have any identification.”

“Yes, sir.” Ajax pulls out a passport and fake birth certificate unbeknownst to you and begins to close the deal. The rest of the meeting you sit speechless.

“Thank you for your patronage.” are the last words you hear as you leave the store, Ajax guiding you with his hand. You’re silent the whole way back to your room.

You turn your bag upside down and begin looking for the mismatched documents. All while Ajax stares at you expectingly. You ignore his presence.

“So... how about a ‘you’re welcome?’”

“For what.”

He lets out a mocking laugh. “For what? I don’t know, maybe saving your ass back there? You froze, and you were unprepared, Ms. Independent.”

“I wouldn’t have forgotten it if it wasn’t for the obnoxious bullshit you did this morning.”

“That’s dishonest, I wasn’t even talking!” he pretends to be hurt. “Admit that you need me.”

“Fuck off.”

“No.” His light-hearted inflection vexes you and makes it hard for you to focus as you read through the mountains of pages in your folder.

While your head is down, Ajax comes across the tattered notebook just peeking out from under the bed. Storing the months—no years—of feelings you had regarding the fatui. Regarding him. Some time passes and you finally raise your head, met with the horrifying reveal of him skimming through the journal, mischief coating the deep void in his eyes. You spring up and reach for the book but he’s faster, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head.

“This is really good stuff... really good.” You shout profanities over and over, anything to get his attention away from the book. But he continues to read as if you’re not there. When he’s done reading, he lets you go, and you instantly try to swing at him. Before you can land a hit, he grabs you by the throat and stares into your soul, almost as if he’s trying to swallow your being.

“You’ve been acting like a little fucking brat all over a crush? Not very big girl of you.”

“I know you think you’re beyond charming, but I promise you don’t have that effect on me.”

“Really? Let’s play a game then.” He knew you’d accept just to beat him at anything.

“If you don’t cum by the end of this journal, I’ll apologize for everything. I’ll do whatever you want. But if I win-” he steps closer to you, “You have to do everything I say.”

You almost burst out laughing. Such an easy challenge, how hard could it be?

You're panting, trying your hardest to focus on the words that seemed to melt off the page. Your back lays comfortably against his chest, with his legs keeping yours spread.

“Next page, baby.”

“Don’t call me that.” Your words are lenient and breathy. Your underwear is still on, but Ajax’s fingers are covered in your slick, playing with the erect nub just enough to make you fuzzy. “You look like you’re tapping out.”

“This? This is nothing” You respond meekly, continuing the reading.

“I can’t help but have fe-elings for himph.”

“There’s some nice things about me in here, why aren’t you always like this?” He says, circling and dipping into your gushy folds, smearing the glossy mess all over your vulva. You try so hard to read the letters, squirming from his touch. The sensation pulsing from your clit to your brain made you incoherent; the more you move, the more he moves. The contents of the journal are humiliating, detailing your romantic and sexual attraction towards Ajax, and your attempts to stifle these feelings. He was getting a kick out of seeing your flustered face stammer over his appearance. He plays with the precum glazing his fingers, widening them to watch the trail it left. Only two more pages left.

“I-I-” You couldn’t get through the first sentence on the last page. Your thighs are trembling, and your pussy began to twitch. “Uh, s-shit. Ajax, wai-.” He trails his fingers over your clit spelling his name, then pushes two inside, fighting back an amused grin. “You’re almost done” Teasing in your ear. You bite back the moans threatening to escape; at the very least you couldn’t give him that satisfaction. He watches you fall apart, shaking more aggressively before your body gives in and you cum on his fingers.

“Uh oh, that’s unfortunate.” You try your best to catch your breath, but he rides out your orgasm, making you subconsciously grind yourself into his palm. Then you’re struck with the reality of losing. He licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling back from the taste. “So fucking good, does being a bitch make you taste better?” You were too embarrassed from the loss to retort. “You won.”

“I did.” He lifts you off the bed and onto the floor, your legs still recovering. He hikes your shirt up, trailing kisses up your stomach until he gets to your nipples. He flicks and sucks one while kneading the other one, occasionally biting the slightly bruising flesh. “Not gonna moan for me, huh baby?”

“Not in the slightest.” You rasped. He smiles and blows cool air on your tits, sending a rippling feeling down your back. “That’s okay, you’ll give in.”

Ajax unbuttons his pants, and they drop in front of you. Unsheathing his thick throbbing length, drooling with desire. His balls are full and heavy, and as you look up at him his eyes are clouded with lust. The pretty freckles that dotted his arms and chest are much more visible now, and so are his battle scars. He breathed in deep, "take care of this for me, yeah?” You wanted to say no and say fuck this; but there was another side that wanted him desperately, that needed this.

You force your jaw open to accommodate his size and push yourself halfway on his girth, feeling his cockhead hit the back of your throat. Once you feel like you got it in, you slobber all over his cock, dampening his balls and begin to bob your head. You stroke with one hand and massage his sack with the other, leading to a breathy whimper from him. “Ah fuck, feels good. Suck it slow, slut.” You begin to move faster while cupping his balls, obscene noises leaving your sopping mouth. You have tears running down your sweating face trying to keep up with the vigorous movement of your tongue. You feel him throb a few times, his moans and grunting getting progressively louder.

“Need more” is all he says, putting one of his legs on the bed and grabbing both sides of your head. Before you can register what’s happening. Ajax pushes your head onto his cock until your nose reaches his pubes. He lets out a breathy sigh and starts throat fucking you with an animalistic grip. The gagging and spit noises echo off the walls, along with his continuous whimpering. You wanted to hate him, but your blood was buzzing, and your panties were drenched. “Shut up and take it” followed by broken fuck’s and yes’s. He threw his head back, hair slicked and torso gleaming with sweat, “look at me.” You reluctantly look up, addicted to his passionate expression. “I want you looking at me when I cum.” You grip his thighs, and he twitches a few times before spurting white, thick cum down your throat. He pulls out slightly to drag his semen over your lips and then taps it on your face, holding you in place.

“What are you doing? Clean me up.” he husked. You clean him up without complaint and lick your lips, forced to maintain eye contact with him the entire way.

In one swoop, Ajax picks you up and throws you on the bed, eager to get your underwear off. “You proved your point, stop being an ass" you slurred out. The room was intoxicating, all you could smell and feel was him. He takes your panties off, spreading your pussy to watch the slippery puddle dribble down your thighs. He shoves your panties in your mouth, “Fucking liar, I know you like it. Can’t taste how wet you are?” He aligns himself with your aching hole, keeping your arch steady with you bent over. Shoving his cock in, moaning from the feeling of your body perfectly molding for him. Ajax starts moving at a rapid pace quickly, his big slender hands tightly gripping your ass. The sound of wet sticky skin slapping together and the squelching from your core made you shudder. It was all too much; you have been teetering on an orgasm since you went down on him, and the way his balls thump your clit make you quiver.

“Whiny brat. Just needed to be fucked good to shut up, yeah?” he groaned through his words. Tears were coming down your eyes now, you can’t tell if he’s edging you by accident or on purpose. But right now, you’d do anything. He turns your head to face him, gazing at your tear-stricken face. “Aww, you cryin’ for me?” He stops to kiss and lick your tears, delighted by your tenderness. Taking the panties out your mouth, he brings your body flush with his and continues to pump inside with you looking at him.

“So sweet all of a sudden, where’d that attitude go?” The morals you had for moaning went missing and mewls and soft whimpers began to leave you. “Let it out, baby.” You’re suddenly babbling please’s begging for him to let you have it. “Pathetic, can’t even get off on your own. You need me that bad?” You nod repeatedly, dangerously close to your release. He had a dark look in his eyes and a sinful smirk. “Yeah? Okay, you’ve been so good.” He reaches down and starts to rub your clit ceaselessly, kissing your cheek. Your whimpers become loud shaky moans and he finally lets you have it, shockwaves going through your body as you’re dissolved into pleasure. You pulsate through the explosion, jello-brain and boneless as your cum leaks down his thighs. Just as he pulls out and flips you over. You’re dizzy and drunk off him, legs shaking indefinitely from the intensity. Then he puts it back in. “You can take one more, yeah baby?” Your overstimulated and violent shaking wasn’t enough for him to stop. He wanted you ruined. He keeps going, grabbing your face to kiss you deeply, tongues intertwining with each other. He feeds you deep strokes, tip prodding your spot every time and watching as your tits bounce. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You have no thoughts, only his name rings in your head. You can feel the coil inside you winding up, pleasure beyond the searing pain of your swollen pussy. He looks down at you and smiles.

“Look at me." You can’t hear anything at this point, not even the sound of your own voice. So, it’s a pleasant surprise when your voice carries his name, “Ajax, Ajax”, chanting as if he’s your god. “Fuck. Gonna cum. Let it out. baby” he says grinning. You’re clamping him so tight and throbbing until you ultimately shatter with him, releasing a stream of squirt onto him and the sheets. He bucks into you, letting out thick spurts, panting heavily as he watches you in disarray. You instinctively hold on to his arms, trembling uncontrollably as you try to search for breath and ride it out. You’re completely hysterical and sobbing from the emotion it ripped into you. You were in shambles and Ajax couldn’t help but smile out of happiness for what he caused. “I’m so sorry.” you say repeatedly, eyes shut and lined with tears. He got closer to wrap you in his arms, and you cling to him for stability. “It’s okay, I’m here for you.”

You didn’t want to talk about it when you woke up. You were hoping he’d be gone, and therefore wouldn’t have to deal with the humiliation. But there he was, watching you sleep just as the sun rose. His ginger hair danced with golden flecks of light, and he looked at you like you were the only person on Teyvat.

“Creep.”

“Good morning to you too, baby~.”

#childe tartaglia ajax #ajax x reader #genshin ajax #genshin smut #childe smut #tartaglia smut #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #ajax smut

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Text

Cheating Heart

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: Your feeling for John were wrong -- horribly wrong -- but when you see your current boyfriend in bed with another woman, what's to hold you back anymore? (18+)

Word Count: 20.8k

Warnings: Cheating, toxic relationship, angst, fluff, depictions of violence and gore in flashbacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smut, breeding kink, praise kink, Protective!Price, vulgar language, porn with an incredible amount of plot

A/N: Literally just supposed to be smut practice and I turned it into a novel lmfao. I should be getting back to requests after this.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You slap a hand onto Soap’s bicep as you slide past the Scot, laughing loudly. The C-17 was still whirring behind you, the engines rumbling and shaking the air over your heads like great waves. Soap had asked you to go out with everyone for drinks at a local bar here in your city, not a moment prior. He was being quite persistent about it.

“Ah, c’mon, Little Lady,” The mohawked man grumbles, jogging to catch up to your fast form. Shit, you really needed a shower – your pores were packed with blood and dirt, “It’s just a few minutes from Base! We’ll all get steamin’ in no time.”

“Hell,” Your body aches, but there’s a promise of hot water and clean clothes in your Barracks, making your feet move over the tarmac faster. Showering after a tough deployment was better than sex, “I’d love to, man, but you know that Leon makes me homemade meals when I get back home. Sorry, but I hope I make up for it by saying I’d take a bar burger and a drink over his lasagna any day. That thing could kill a horse.”

Soap chuckles, eyes sparkling, and you send him an inquiring glance, “Price’ll be out with us.”

Your lips thin, the M13 strapped over your back suddenly ten times heavier and digging into your shoulder blades. Inside your chest, your heart sparks to life.

“MacTavish…” You warn, eyes narrowing at the stocky male, “Careful where your words go – I have a boyfriend. Plus, idiot, whatever it is your implying is insanely against workplace policy.”

“Yeah, but that boyfriend of yours treats you like shite.”

“Hey!” Yelling, your eyebrows turn in with a glare, finger pointing at his chest, “That was uncalled for, Asshat.”

Frowning, you watch Soap’s hand go scratch at the back of his head as his optics dart away, grumbling, “I don’t think it was if I’m being honest. Not exactly a prime choice in a partner you’ve got there.”

The two of you make it to the front doors of the Barracks building, and you huff in annoyance. You were quickly deciding that not even a shower would make you feel better if this conversation continued. It was bordering on too much for your tired brain, sinking needles into your heart and dripping poison.

Soap wasn’t lying, of course, your boyfriend was a piece of work and everyone knew it. Not only did Leon get pissed when you had to go on deployments – which you didn’t have control over – but he had also made a habit of being a bitch when you came back lately. There was never a chance to relax anymore, and what was worse was that it hadn’t always been like that. Part of you had tried to empathize with him because it was probably hard for someone's significant other to be away most of the time.

Like that gives him an excuse, You think, face heating with resentment as you remember the last argument Leon had dragged you into.

It was the day before your current deployment began nearly four months ago. Leon had gotten angry that you weren’t able to tell him where you were being shipped off to, and, like usual, had made the last day you saw him pure hell.

“Oh, so It’s my fault that I’m concerned?!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice bouncing off the ceiling, “I get it – I’m the problem for wanting you home and safe.”

“My job is important, Leon!” Attempting to keep your cool, you take deep breaths. Teeth nash against your bottom lip and rip it to pieces as you use the pain to call away from the tears stuck in the ducts of your eyes, “You’re acting like what I do doesn’t affect the world. I need to go, otherwise, bad people are–”

“Is that what you tell yourself? Fuck me, how goddamn stupid could you be?!”

Leon growls, sending you scathing glances as he begins to pace the living room.

“Now you’re just being rude,” You whisper, whipping at your cheeks and gathering teardrops on your sleeves, “You know I can’t control when John sends me out with him and 141! They’re my team!”

Mentioning your Captain was a mistake and you knew it just as John’s name came out of your mouth. Leon pauses – his body going very still.

“John,” He whispers, eyes lit with burning fire, “Since when have you started calling him by his first name?”

“Leon–” You tried to salvage the situation but it was already too late. Your boyfriend snarls out accusation after accusation.

“I knew it! You’re cheating on me–”

“No, I’m not!” Pleading with someone to listen can only get you so far, “We’re close because we're always together – just like with the rest of the boys!” Leon shakes his head, hands clenched at his sides and vibrating with rage. Loyalty meant so much to you, trying to imagine a world where you would physically go out and cheat on your boyfriend was like seeing a unicorn out on the street. Your feet take you closer to Leon as the tensions rise, “You’re not listening! Listen to me!”

“Why the hell should I listen to a fucking whore!?”

The memory leaves you tense, remembering for a moment the sound of a tossed lamp and the shattering that followed soon after as it hit the floor. It was silly, but that lamp that Leon had thrown in anger was a family heirloom; something immeasurably precious to you. It was the last object you had left from your Grandma. Now, the remains were probably stuffed in a garbage bag somewhere, but you wouldn’t know because you had left with your duffel bag and slept at Base. At the very least you could hope your Leon cut his fingers picking up the pieces of glass.

You had thought that everyone hadn’t noticed anything wrong, but had been catching concerned glances when you went into the cafeteria with thick bags under your eyes the next day; hair tangled and matted from your fingers.

Price had brought you outside, only pausing slightly before laying a heavy hand on your arm and squeezing. The man had bent slightly to look you in the eyes, head tilting so his hat blocked the sun from your eyes.

“Love?” His eyes had been warm, creased with concern around the edges – an emotion you never received from Leon. When you just stared at your Captain, he hummed in the back of his throat, “You alright down there?”

Before you could do anything you might regret, you shook off his grip and disappeared back into the cafeteria. You didn’t eat that day and the next you were off on deployment.

“--soon?”

You blink, noticing Soap had begun walking ahead of you, his gear clinking.

“What?” You ask dumbly, “Sorry, I spaced out.”

Soap smirks, looking at you strangely, “I said I’ll see ya soon…hopefully out with the rest of us tonight?” He raises an eyebrow expectantly with a grin and you force out a half-assed huff. Trying to mask the unease in your blood.

You had been gone four months instead of the intended three with Soap out in Russia on a Black Op, fighting back in a war that no one would ever hear of. Distinctly, you wondered if John was mad at you for how you acted toward him before you left.

“No promises, Suds,” Striding down the hallway you take the turn on the right leading to the women’s barracks, your back turned as Soap continues to subtly plead to you.

If you took the time to look into it, you would have realized that the man was concerned for you; his thought process was to keep you away from Leon for as long as he could so you might come to your senses.

“I’ll see you at 0900, then! Don’t keep everyone waiting, yeah? Been too long since you’ve been out with the rest of us!”

His voice falls away as you open the door to the joint female changing room and showers. Only when the hum of the air conditioning overhead blocks out everything else do you speak.

“You’re nothing if not persistent, MacTavish,” Putting your palms into your eyes, you press until you see stars and take a deep breath.

Filling your lungs you hold the air trapped and begin to count to five, letting the tension in your shoulders leave as you breathe out. The room was empty of anyone else, white-walled, and tiled floors with rows of metal lockers you needed a key to get into. Digging into your vest pocket, you produce the one you would need to enter yours.

It was the one in the middle of the room, with access to the emergency door in the back and a clear view of the front door as well. Some traits stick with you when you join one of the best forces on the planet.

Since you lived around here, everything you would need was already in the locker, including a gray shirt, baggy sweats, fresh undergarments – thank God – and spare boots. Your duffel bag of belongings was still on the C-17 and set to go through inspection before you could get it back.

Groaning and deading the inevitable stack of reports you would have to go through, plus the thoughts of what to do tonight, you sit on the rickety wooden bench and begin to take off strap after strap of your uniform.

“This is gonna be one hell of a problem, Isn’t it?” You mutter, body slouching with more and more fatigue as the seconds draw on.

Maybe I should just stay here, You wonder to yourself, Say the hell with it to both of them and have a girl's night in. Watching a sad movie and crying over a bucket of fucking ice cream sounds better than fighting with Leon or trying to ignore John.

Chucking off your combat vest, you clench your jaw in agitation. Why couldn’t things be simple? Why couldn’t you just break it off with your boyfriend and be done? It was obvious the love that was there before was gone…but you had known Leon since high school. You bite your lip. There were so many good memories.

John, as he usually does, weasels his way into your mind from the gaps.

You unlock your locker and slam the door open so that the hinges rattle back in anguish. Shucking off your M13 your shaking hands all but toss the attached strap on the hook inside as you try to force the brown-haired Brit from your consciousness. You can’t call it love or lust, but somewhere in the spaces between missions and spent bullets you had grown fond of him in a way you couldn’t describe. John. Your Captain.

As your knives and pistol are placed in the above cubie you run over hand over your face once more, pausing to breathe deeply before regaining motion. Putting your head on the locker’s cool metal corner, your eyes close tightly.

The Black Op with Soap had been hard. You had been trying to strangle every emotion down like the ball in your throat when the Scot brought up Price or Leon during muttered conversations.

“That’s why the Captain likes you so much, then!”

“The boy of yours is a pure dafty – why the hell would he say that to you?!”

“Price’ll have my head if you take another shot for me.”

“The two of you would make a fine looken’ couple, y’know. No missin’ the way he looks at you…Hey, now! I meant it as a compliment! Stop hitten’ me woman!”

You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Why were you feeling like this? Leon was a dick sure, but you both had fond memories together – you’d known him for more than half of your life! When you thought of someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with it was always…

Your eyes harden as reality sets in.

John.

“Fuck!” Reeling backward, you curl your left fist and send it right into the locker beside your own.

Immediately a sparking of pain ripples down your limb like lighting, firing off nerves and heating the skin as blood rushes to the affected area. Hunching your shoulder’s in, you bite your tongue and tip your head down.

Your heart is hammering so hard you hear it echo through the room, bouncing off the tall ceiling – Knock-knock.

Blinking, you look up, staring in confusion into the depths of your locker before you realize that wasn’t your heart at all.

A distinctly male voice calls your name from behind the barrier, and suddenly you know why they weren’t coming in. Closing your eyes and sighing, you back up and stare at the door silently. The man calls your name again, accent muffled as knuckles rasp.

Someone’s knocking on the door…? Why would they do that? You wondered, It’s unlocked.

“I know you’re in there – the Sergeant told me where I could find you,” You could imagine the person you had just been thinking about nodding as he always does during conversations; dark eyebrows animated, “ We need to have a word before you clean up, yeah?”

“Price?” You ask, face tightening as you recognize the speech pattern before he even finishes talking. Could you really not get a moment's peace around here? Shaking out your hand, which was bleeding by the knuckles and leaves droplets on the floor, you stutter out, “W-what are you doing in the girl’s barracks?”

Your heart was already running faster than it had a moment ago. You didn’t want to talk to him right now.

The Captain sighs behind the door, and under the crack you see a shadow shuffle from one foot to the other. His voice lowers, losing that formal tone for a second. Your body reacts even as you tell it not to, and your breath gets shallow and your pupils are blown wide. “Would you open the door so I can talk to you, please, Love? I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Sucking down a breath your large muscle palpitates heavily behind your ribcage. Did you really have a choice?

John, separated from you but still sensing your hesitation, feels his eyes narrow. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your last interaction before you left; the way your eyes were red-rimmed and dull. It had weighed on him more than he liked to admit for those few months, and it wasn’t like he could call to check-in.

Black Ops meant no contact, and your safety was always his priority before anything else. He waited. So when Soap had knocked on John’s office door, the two of you back at Base unannounced, and had looked at him with creased eyes he had known immediately something was wrong.

For a moment, his heart had stopped, thinking you were injured. But Johnny’s next words stopped him.

“The girl’s been acting strange, Price. I can’t find any sense behind it – been that way damn near ever since we shipped out. Little Lady’s worrying me. She’s not right and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Maybe this was a mistake, John thinks, eyes narrowing as he itches at his beard, forcing the heated image in his mind away like it burned him. He didn’t know what he felt about you, but the knowledge that you had a boyfriend didn’t sway his sense of loyalty. Even if being around you made his chest tighten and his thoughts run.

If you were in the right headspace the door would have already been open. But then again you were in the locker room. The Captain’s head jerks back, trying not to imagine you naked just behind a thin barrier as his chest sucks in a sharp breath.

It wasn’t his place to think of such things. To imagine you beautifully naked, laying under him and gasping out his name was…it was immoral. You deserve better than that. But damn it if the thought didn’t make his pants tighten.

A shadow moves under the door and Price straightens his spine, taking a step back before bringing his attention back to the present. Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly.

Your hand lays on the door knob stiffly, shirt already untucked and boots unlaced. You probably looked a mess, you thought to yourself, sticking your tongue out of the side of your mouth with nerves. Freezing, your heart skips a beat.

Why did you care?

Growling under your breath, you swing the door open and plaster a smile over your bitten-to-hell lips that wouldn’t convince a blind man.

“Sir,” You say, body coiled as your eyes trail your Captain’s figure.

John Price was the same man you remembered. Tall and fit, wearing an army green long-sleeved athletic shirt and cargo pants tucked into boots mirroring your own. Watching his muscles writhe, he crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head – where the old bucket hat sits covering his shorter brown locks.

The hallway lights were doing wonders for his complexion.

“Do…you need something, Price?” Maybe if you didn’t look at him your head wouldn’t get fuzzy?

Your eyes shifted up and down the hallways as if you were doing something illegal, listening to his breath and the rattle of his throat as he made a sound.

If people saw the two of you rumors would start; you could almost hear them now.

“Did you see her talking to Captain Price outside the locker room?!”

“Lord, doesn’t she have a boyfriend here in the city? I feel bad for him...She’ll start one hell of an internal investigation.”

“No loyalty at all. I bet she likes sneaking around. Hey, do you think she’s sleeping with him?! Holy fuck I bet she is!”

“--Love? Hey, hey, Love, look at me, would you?” You blink back to reality, clearing your throat and tensing as a hand levels on your shoulder.

Staring at John’s chest, you shake your head.

“Sorry, Sir, just tired,” You attempt a chuckle but it sounds like a balloon deflating, “Long mission, you know?”

Your eyes are boring holes in John’s chest, not willing to move anywhere else as your face begins to burn. His hand was so firm, warm, how would it feel when it was digging into the flesh of your thighs? Your waist? Would he be rough like the calluses on his hands would imply? Or would he handle you delicately like his guns, flicking over the safety and caressing the cool metal?

Shut the fuck up!

A moment passes before you notice your Captain hadn’t responded to you. Frowning, you throw him a quick glance and see him intently looking at your clenched, shaking, left hand. His blue eyes are dark, lips frozen in a thin line that has your lungs shriveling and a shiver running down your spine. You try not to follow the tensing of his lower abdominal muscles or the shifting of his large hips as his feet move.

Stop it, You plead with yourself, Please just stop. This isn’t right. What’s wrong with me?

That was the moment you noticed the blood dripping down your fingers, flooding from split knuckles and dotting the floor in red. Widening your eyes, you snap the hand behind your back in panic, clothes rustling.

“Uh,” You fumble, pulse so loud you can hear it in your ear as sweat slicks the back of your neck. Stuttering, you can’t find the words to continue before John speaks.

“Tell me,” He orders, voice so baritone and raspy you feel it rattle in your stomach; at that moment it’s not John you’re speaking to – it’s your Captain. You move out of his hold but he takes a step forward anyways, “Now.”

Freezing, you gape like a fish, mouth moving but no words come out to grace the man’s ears. John’s heart is pounding, snapping from the hidden hand to your eyes that lack the spark they usually had. He hadn’t seen that bit of light in your eyes for a long time and ached to find out why. What had happened? Why were you avoiding him? You usually went straight to his office after you got back from being separated from him – even if you were full of blood and dirt with bags lining your eyes.

John’s hands clench, jaw following suit.

You sigh shakily, swallow down saliva, and try not to throw up.

“I-I…” Moving your head, your fingers shake. How could you explain your situation? Tell your Captain – who you have complicated feelings for – that you wanted to end things with Leon because of him? Fuck, do you tell him how shitty your boyfriend’s been? That wasn’t his business and certainly not his problem. It was better if you held your tongue and suffered, a part of you knew, because the infection of misplaced guilt was wrapped around your heart like thorns.

John would think less of you for staying with Leon for this long; probably put you on leave to figure it out yourself.

No, You try to tell yourself, He wouldn’t do that – this is John we’re talking about. He’s kind to me and, if anything, he’d be just as pissed as I am about it.

That you knew was true. John would go to war to make sure you were alright; he had.

The man was silently standing, patient with you even as the telltale sign of concern and muted irritation were painted on his face. John had always been a gentleman – holding doors open for you, letting you sleep in when the nightmares got to you and left you huddled in a corner for hours. He had found your favorite candy on an Op in Italy and bought you some for fucks sake!

But nothing made sense anymore and everything felt like it was at a breaking point. You liked Price – and hated Leon – and that fact nearly sent you spiraling into hysterics. You had been with your boyfriend for so long; he had been everything to you.

Leon had helped you get through deaths in your family, and before the fighting started, ordered you flowers when you came back from deployments; Leon cooked and cleaned without you having to ask. He knew your life story possibly better than you did, and you knew his.

Your entire life was spent with him. Who were you if all of it suddenly ended? Years of your life thrown away for nothing.

If there was one thing that everyone on Base knew besides that your boyfriend was a bitch, it was that you hated change more than anything. Ironic, considering the profession you were in.

You just needed silence – space to breathe without getting suffocated. But maybe what you really wanted was for John to fucking hug you. To feel his bear arms wrap around you and squeeze the stubborn tears out of your eyes as you sob. When was the last time you actually cried, anyways? John would make it better; hold you like he cared about you. Like how he had in Madagascar when a bullet got lodged in your side. You swore you saw him cry that day, beautiful blues shiny as your blood pooled out of his heavy, adrenaline-shaking, fingers. The body of the man who jumped you both lay dead and filled with more metal than a construction zone not a few feet away, gurgling.

That man was supposed to be the target – Hubert Antonin – and you were both supposed to bring him in alive; you never got execute authority.

But Price had unloaded the clip on him right as you cried out in pain.

“Stay with me, Princess, c’mon. Keep your eyes open for me…Look at me, Love. Hey, I promised I’d get ya’ back safe. Don’t make me lie, now, yeah?”

A weak, velvety, chuckle meets the humid air. It was startling, watching him lose his composure like that.

“It b-burns, John. I…I can’t–”

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. I’ll get you fixed up and good to go soon, Copy? Just like new,” His wild eyes snapped back and forth as your eyesight gets blurry, lids flickering like a candle’s flame, “Where the fucken’ hell is Evac?!... No, no, no…What did I just tell you – Keep those eyes open, Muppet!”

When you were stable in the Med Ward of the local Base, the man had brought you to his chest, letting you feel the rampaging of his heart and the uneven breaths on the top of your head. His hands tightened over you, fingers brushing up and down over your arms. Like he was worshiping you just for living. For being there.

“Attagirl. Just let me hold you for a minute, yeah?”

As you recovered, he never let you out of his sight.

If you thought about it too hard, that was perhaps the first instance when you knew something was very wrong with you for liking the feeling of his skin touching yours. His body heat melting into you in such a tight embrace it left you crying into his chest in thankfulness. You had never felt that when hugging Leon – Leon hated hugs to the point you had to beg him to hold you.

But thinking about that was just another pipedream. Nothing about John Price and yourself would ever come to light as being anything more than partners on the Task Force.

He was your Captain. You were working under him.

You had a boyfriend. John had a valuable asset.

But you really wanted him to be yours. And, never mind how Price felt about you and if it was the same twisted form of disloyalty or lust, you still hated yourself for it. For feeling so deeply.

“No,” You respond blankly to John’s request for an explanation of…everything, but can’t look into his eyes to see the shock that sparks.

John's shoulders tense, jaw going slack. He gains his senses, but it’s already too late.

Jerking back into the locker room, you slam it shut behind you and snap the lock in place, feeling the quivering of your lips as the first sob builds.

Your skin was dirty and layered with grime, hair matted, and gear in need of deep cleaning. But that feeling you carried didn’t change even as you took a shower, wiping away everything down a drain with red-tinged water as a shadow hesitated for a long moment before confidently moving away from the front door.

You still felt disgusting.

—

Nothing you did made sense to him.

John was walking away from the locker room with measured steps, head pounding. People passed by and gave him strange looks, but his eyes were dead ahead, glaring at everything and nothing at the same time. This wasn’t like you at all.

She’s been acting strange for months, why haven’t I bloody checked in sooner? Your actions reminded him of a ghost – walking around the halls at night and steadily dimming. The whole team had seen it; how there was a weight eating at you. Price and the others had tried to get you to talk to no avail.

I need to do something about this, He tells himself as a thought worms its way into his brain.

Could she be angry at me? Now that he thought about it, every time he was near you trying to engage in a conversation you froze and made some excuse to not speak. And with how you looked at him before you slammed the door in his face…John had stayed shell-shocked behind the barrier with half a mind to rush in and demand you tell him what was wrong.

But he knew that would only make it worse.

“She needs time to cool off,” He mutters under his breath, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers and holding his head for a moment, “Get her head on straight.”

But what if you never chose to seek him out after the fact? Could he handle that?

Why do I want her to come to me when she’s hurting? He wonders with a clenched jaw.

Taking a corner and leaving the Women’s Barracks, John sighs as he walks on. His feelings were getting in the way again – his feelings about you that he had tried to choke down like whisky. Ironic, that it left the same burning sensation in his neck. There was only so much he could do about them, truth be told, because everything about you made the Captain want to disregard every order he’s given.

It wasn’t right, it was the definition of wrong in both of your lines of work, but this was the one situation he didn’t know how to fix. So he kept silent.

You had a boyfriend, and that was enough to stay his tongue and keep him watching from a distance.

John made it back to his office quickly and quietly, but would soon find that trying to get reports done was impossible. When his pen would hit the paper his mind would blank, and many times he would have to re-read the contents over and over to retain anything.

“Fuck,” He breathes out, baring his teeth and leaning back in his chair.

The most he could do was sit there and wait until tonight; hoping that the bar that Soap was bringing the Task Force to had good Whisky.

Try as he might, he knows getting drunk would only make him think of you more.

—

The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a sheen of rain making the sky dark. Under you, the fake leather seats are cold, leaving you shivering even as you were wrapped in a thick sweatshirt and your spare cargo pants. Gripping the wheel tighter as the quiet road went on and on ahead of you, the street lamps shine on the old sidewalks corralling you in.

You had made the tough decision to surprise Leon when you got home.

Lips thinning, all you can hope is that the stewing anger that had been left behind had calmed and not worsened. But Leon held grudges, and, unfortunately, so did you. Your Grandma’s lamp still made your heart ache if you thought about it too much; left bitter tears and a bare esophagus behind.

He had stepped over a big line – one you weren’t sure you could forgive him for. Sighing and shaking your head, you watch the dark road as the chilled cloud of condensation is expelled from your mouth. It seems you had forgotten to turn the heat on too.

Taking a turn, you pull the vehicle to a slow stop as its brakes squeal. Months of sitting in the Base’s underground garage would do that to you, but you still grimace at the noise that makes your face tense. Maybe Ghost would fix up your car like last time so you wouldn’t have to fork over a fortune at the dealership downtown.

You can’t hide the small smile that comes at the idea. Simon pretended to be such a grump all the time, but he had his moments.

Coming to a full stop, you turn the car to park and look outside through the deluge.

“At least that hasn’t changed,” You utter, breath fogging the window as lashes of rainwater race down the glass, “It still looks as perfect as ever.”

The house was brightly lit, painted white, and had a large Oak door in the center. In the front, there was a black iron fence with a small gate and a latch. Looking, a prickly sensation enters your body and your fingers twitch over the wheel inexplicably. Your eyes run from one window to the other, all with warm light streaming out from behind the curtains, and furrow. With one hand you go to itch at your nose.

Why were all the lights on anyways? It’s like ten at night…Not the point, I’m stalling.

“Just go and speak to him,” You mutter to yourself, nodding firmly. But your lungs contracted in your ribcage in blatant retaliation.

You wished playing therapist with yourself was easier.

Turning off the car and stuffing the keys in your pants pocket, you unclipped your seatbelt and turned to grab your small carry bag. Since the Base was so close there was really no need to bring your duffel bag. You’d be back there tomorrow for de-briefings with Price anyways; writing out papers and sighing confidentiality documents until your eyes bled. Would John bring you tea this time to help you stay awake? Or would he give you that look that meant – ‘Go to sleep right now, or do I have to order you to your bed?’

John would give in occasionally, and sit with you as you worked. He would read, or, you would take a break and play trivia with him; sometimes you asked him to tell stories. You really liked his stories.

On even rarer cases, when the contents of the report brought up bad memories that left your face blank, he would tell you one of his tales unprompted. Usually, after that warm and selfless event, you would wake up back in your bed without the knowledge of ever falling asleep at all. But there would always be a note. Handwritten on your nightstand.

John Price hand wrote you notes on crappy lined paper with his chicken scratch lettering. You remembered blushing every time you got one and had your favorite memorized word for word. It had meant so much to get one, Leon never wrote letters.

“Guess my stories are more boring than I knew, Love, you passed out nearly immediately into the first one. Do me a favor, yeah, and sleep in today? Don’t worry about morning drills. I’ve already dismissed you. Sleep tight.

– John”

Clenching your jaw, you shake your head and close your eyes. Thinking about seeing him tomorrow makes you sick.

More opportunities to make a fool of myself and cause him to hate me. God, I fucking slammed a door in his face because I couldn’t get a grip. What’s wrong with me? He doesn’t deserve that.

You can’t keep living like this anymore, you try to tell yourself as you dig through your bag. Grabbing your phone, you’re about to shove it in your pocket beside the keys when it lights up, showcasing the wallpaper of you and the boys on a past Op from years ago.

Everyone had their full gear on, weapons around fronts, and armed to the teeth. Full of blood and other substances.

It was your favorite picture and you even had it printed out on your nightstand at Base.

John had his arm over your shoulder, staring at you softly with his head covered by his hat – which had burn marks on it – as you pointed a finger into Gaz’s smug, smile-split, face. Soap’s laughing and holding his stomach as Ghost at his side has a hand to his masked face in exasperation.

You blink in surprise at the text message from your Sergeant as it pops up.

“Soap’s texting me?” Your mind wonders, and you roll your eyes, “I already said I wasn’t going out.” Not looking and turning your phone off, you shove it in your pocket but can’t hide the small sense of annoyance, “I spent four months with the guy in Russia, sorry, but I need a break from him before my brain explodes.”

Opening the car door, you flinch as rain batters your head and stains your clothes, but you just swing your bag over your shoulder and slam it shut behind you. Locking it with the fob, you make your way quickly to the front door, slipping past the metal gate without mishap and jogging over the lawn to the two front steps. Scaling them, you stand under the portico and look behind you, gazing up and down the street. You watch for a moment the family who lives across the street – they were watching a movie in the living room, huddled on the couch.

Jerking your head back, you take out your house key and insert it into the lock with a grim face. Twisting, your skin shivers once more as a bout of wind shakes your baggy clothes just as you hear the familiar click of the front door unlocking.

But that damn lamp. Grandma’s lamp. And John’s blue eyes filled with concern for you. His hands.

When had this place stopped being home for you?

“Just speak to him,” You repeat a second time, gripping the doorknob, “Get it over with like an adult and forgive each other…”

You clench your jaw and wrench the door open, shaking your head to dispel the water weighing the locks down like a wet dog. Stepping inside with heavy feet, you close the door quietly behind you and lock it.

“Leon…?” You wonder out loud, slipping your gaze from the empty couch to the blaring TV as you slip off your boots. Muttering under your breath you add, “Where are you?”

“--And in more local news, the grand opening of the downtown café “Four Horseman” has wracked in a whopping profit of–”

Your fingers flicked off the news, the woman’s voice suddenly halting from the speakers. Frowning, your ears twitch.

What’s that noise?

“Oh, Leon!” Freezing, your legs tense, hands at your sides gradually tightening into fists. Blinking in surprise, your heart begins to pump adrenaline through your veins with the efficiency of a racehorse. You don’t know that voice, “Just like that!”

But you weren’t stupid.

A certain type of dread infects your brain that leaves your mouth opening in shock; eyebrows peeling back to travel up your forehead. Before you tell yourself that it was better just to leave the house now, while your mind is unbroken, you can’t stop your already moving feet.

You barrel down the hallway to get to the master bedroom, where you shove on the already partially open barrier with a heavy slam. Rage burns in your gut, spreading like a disease into the thin tissue and bleeding out; proliferating with relentless reach.

Leon was over a random girl in your bed, half-naked and pants already being dragged down his hips by feminine legs. The woman was already bare, perfect skin glowing in the low light of red candles.

Your rage freezes with a layer of thin ice, and your heart hammers. Sweat gathers in your clenched palms as the stranger’s scream enters the room. Both were already watching you in horror. Leon halts his actions of being knuckle-deep in the girl – the woman had seen you and snapped her hands to the ruined sheets of your bed to try and cover herself with a desperate scream.

“Leon?!” She yells out, face becoming bright as the scent of expensive perfume makes your nose twitch, “Who the fuck is that?!”

Blankly, you turn your head to look at your boyfriend – former boyfriend.

“Yeah, Leon,” You’re surprised by the firmness of your voice, the dead tone hurled out with no remorse. It betrays how you really feel. Tears burn the backs of your eyes, and your lungs hurt when you suck in quiet breaths to help your composure, “Do you wanna explain who I am? Or just how you’re fucking another woman on our bed.”

Leon’s eyes are comically wide, mouth agape and fluttering. Cruel satisfaction brews in your heart as your lips flicker into a dark smirk; anger was better than tears, you decided.

“Our bed?! You said you were single!” The woman gasps, snapping her head to the man still above her, “Get the hell off me!”

Shoving Leon, you watch the girl scramble to grab her clothes all over the floor as she apologizes to you.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that he had–”

“Just get out, please,” You mutter under your breath, and the lady zips past with her shirt only half on and her bra hooked between her fingers.

“Baby,” Leon looks like he’s about to cry, getting to his knees on the mattress and you catch a glimpse of his boxers with cows printed on them.

Before you had found those enduring – maybe even cute in a dorkish sort of way – but now you realized it was just pathetic. He was pathetic.

“Baby, I swear this isn’t what it looks like!” His fingers are glistening, and his pants are stained.

You blankly stare at the stranger who inhabits your ex’s body and say nothing back; watching as Leon scrambles for an explanation that changes nothing. There was an absence of anything you loved in this house.

“Hope it was worth it,” Blankly speaking, you turn around and leave, feet slamming into the floor as Leon calls to you pleadingly.

“Please! I didn’t–” His voice cuts out as a thump echoes over the home, like someone falling out of a bed before a yelp takes its place. Not slowing, you slip your boots on and unlock the front door.

Just as fast footsteps rush to the foyer you slam the door behind your back and descend the steps, no longer caring about the rain as you walk in a trance-like state. It hadn’t really hit you yet what had happened, but it was starting too.

Your breath was getting thinner, hands shaking as your shoulders hunched and waterfalls down your face and neck. The bag over your shoulder is now ten times heavier than it was before.

The door slams open just as you exit the black-iron gate and unlock your car.

“Babe, come back inside, let's talk about this!” Leon screams, and his bare feet seem to slap over the drowned lawn, “You just need to sit down and I’ll speak and explain why I’ve been sleeping with Maxine!”

Your hand freezes on the car handle, slick metal stuck under your grip.

You whirl around with fire in your eyes, lips snarling.

“Sleeping!?” With your face contouring, your loud voice carries over the storm as Leon – who had gotten quite close by now – reels back a step, “As in this has happened before, you goddamn prick?! How long have you been cheating on me while I’ve been risking my fucking life to get back home to you?!”

Leon’s face twists as you look him in the eyes, nose scrunching.

“Oh, don’t stay on your high horse,” He growls, hands animating his words as you try and keep your cool, “We both know you’ve been cheating far longer than I have.”

“Do we?!” It’s past the point of sense now, and the other lights from the once-dark houses begin flickering their outside lights on from all the noise, “I’ve never fucked anyone while I was out, Leon. You can’t say that, can you?!”

“You don’t need someone to stick their dick in you to cheat. You’re just as bad as me – John Price must be one helluva guy to ruin a relationship that started when we were teenagers.”

Your breath stutters, and after a moment of shocked silence you shake your head in disbelief, “You’re a bastard, Leon…I wish I’d never met you. Wish I’d never wasted my time with a pathetic man like you. Maybe John is one helluva guy, hm? Maybe I’ll have to tell him that myself.”

Leon’s eyes were red, and his lips, just like yours, quivered as he tried to come up with an answer. You turn around before you can sob and reach for the door once more.

A heavy weight settled on your arm, your Ex’s fingers suddenly squeezing your skin so hard your lips let loose a muted gasp. Trying to rip your arm away, you tilt your head to look back at Leon.

“Let go of me,” You say the words slowly, feeling rainwater travel down the bridge of your nose and splash to your shoulder, “Now.”

Leon’s hand only tightens, and you hiss, feeling blood vessels pop under the pressure.

“You’re coming back inside and you’re going to listen to what I tell you,” Leon leans closer, eyes dark, “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an–”

Your fist connects with his cheek, and a second later you’re nursing your sensitive knuckles, shaking out your hand and grimacing. Whining reminiscent of a wounded duck rips over the night, and, gripping at his face, Leon lays on the ground half-naked and less of a man than he’d ever been – which was an achievement, to say the least.

You should have broken up with him years ago. John would never treat you like this.

Getting into your car, you sit down and lock the doors behind you as you insert the key, twisting and feeling it jerking to life. With morbid curiosity, you turn to the opposite window and look at the house across the street.

The family was at the window, no longer enraptured by their TV, and the mother had a hand over her mouth. She was in the process of turning her children away from the scene as the other parent stood watching, slack-jawed.

Blinking, you don’t know if it’s tears or rain that you’re forcing away from your eyes, but the burning tells you which option you should put your money on. Wiping at your face and sucking down shuddering breaths, you press on the pedal and peel away from the white house with a large Oak door. Taking a peak at the mirror, you spy a man trying to get back to his feet but stumbles, falling once more and slamming into a puddle.

Driving, you only make it to the next street before you park on the side of the road, your whole body shaking and gasping for breath. With the adrenaline dying down, the pain in your arm becomes prominent, making pain spark as you shift it. The area would most likely bruise.

Your lips twist and a small whimper leaves your mouth. You smack your forehead to the wheel, hands falling like lead to your lap as a sniffle weasels its way out; tears begin to smack your thighs, gradually increasing until you were concerned your car would flood.

Crying was never your thing. With all the sights you’d seen, tears felt so small compared to every other horror – they meant nothing in the grand scheme of events taking place. All they were good at was making your nose run and your skin get hot.

John’s seen me cry before, Your thoughts are running so fast it’s a strange circumstance that they stop when your Captain’s name is filtered through.

Price had found you in the bathroom, covered in dried blood and shaking just as you were in the present. There had been an accident on the recent Op – a kid had gotten caught in the crossfire and had taken a bullet to the stomach. You had held him as he died; seen the light in his eyes leave in one fell swoop as you drowned in his blood trying to stop the bleeding.

That was what led up to you rushing off the Helo, finding the first bathroom on Base, and rushing inside to throw your guts up. John, of course, had followed close at your heels with fast feet.

“Love,” He said from outside the door slowly, “I’m coming in.”

Shell-shocked, your hands were strained as you gripped the sides of the toilet, not even picking up on the concern leaking from his tone. Wide-eyed, you stare blankly at the vile contents inside the bowl – throat burning with acid as the image of that dying kid plays on repeat.

The door opens hesitantly as if any major noise would break you, the hinges squeaking. A pair of feet carefully pad over the tile towards your hunched figure. When his hand slides over your back, his shadow comes to encompass you, shrouding you in its comforting darkness. He made it better.

John’s grip slides back and forth over the gear and other objects along your figure. You hadn’t bothered to take anything off, in fact, your gun was still strapped around your chest and weighing you down. It hit against the toilet with a ‘clink’ every time you moved.

“Sweetheart?” John mutters, body curling around yours.

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You say the words numbly as you glance at the blood on your hands with muted horror, “I…I…He should have been with the other civilians. He wasn’t…”

“I know,” Price whispers, grunting, watching you as your mind breaks to try and think through this, “I know, Love.”

When he knows your stomach has settled, you feel him carefully grab your shoulders and lean you back against the opposite wall. It was like a ramshackle hug, but the feeling of his body pressing into yours made you fall limp. You were safe here. Protected. His fingers go to your weapon, taking it off of you and setting it on the ground as he knees at your side. Soon after goes the combat vest, John pulling at the velcro with confidence. Your body jerks as he peels it off.

“Lift your arms for me, yeah?” Doing as he says, the article is set by your gun and pushed aside, “Attagirl, just like that.”

The man keeps a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth. He was closer than he needed to be, but that was alright.

Looking down, your thousand-yard stare locks to the blood staining your skin, getting stuck in the grooves and the beds of your nails. Would water even wash it off? You had wondered in silent panic. What if it never came off? John’s other hand gravitates to your cheek and the increased sound of your breath is accented by a sharp inhale.

Blinking to push back the nothingness of your gaze, tears dribble from your tear ducts as your eyes lock with his.

John looked so sad.

His expression was pained, lips downturned and eyes painfully narrowed on your form; his eyebrows were pressed in on his forehead, curing in the center and creating creases over his flesh. The beard – still filled with dirt and grime – moved as his lips did.

“Focus on me, alright?” You nod, shakily, and watch his optics flick from one part of your face to another, “That wasn’t your fault.”

“John,” You whimper, the dam breaking every moment his fingers move and caress your skin. His grip travels to the back of your neck and brings your face to his shoulder, letting you sag into him on a dirty bathroom floor.

“It’s okay,” He mutters into your hair, lips moving as your hands snap to dig into his vest. His hat was pressing into your scalp – grounding you in the present just as his heartbeat was. The muscle was strong in his chest, pounding, “It’s all gonna be alright, Kid. I need you to know it wasn’t your fault,” John sighs, trying to draw you closer, “You did the best you could. I’m proud of you.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You sob, and repeat the sentence once more, like, if you did, whatever God out there would bring the boy back to life. Your lips pull back in pain, wails exiting.

“I know,” John responded, voice so low your sounds of anguish almost covered it up. His grip tightens, and he lays a kiss on the top of your head.

You knew, then, that John would give anything to take away your pain. But what he didn’t know was that you would replay his words in your mind to stave off the nightmares – use the image of his face to bring you stability when you woke up mid panic attack.

It was the only time you didn’t hate crying, because John’s warmth had made it better. Had made it mean something.

You both spend a long time on that bathroom floor.

When you had spent at least an hour collecting your thoughts in that frigid car, you finally checked your phone.

Fifty-seven missed calls and thirty-five texts from Leon. Chuckling humorlessly and shaking your head in disbelief, you block him with a quick tap; it was over. You’re about to chuck the phone and go back to Base, but then you pause, eyes locking on a single text notification left on the screen.

Soap: If ya change your mind….’Bottom’s Up Bar’… ;)

He lists the address just below, and your eyes bore into it.

“Fuck it,” Your hoarse voice echoes out in the cool car air, “I need a drink anyways.”

—

Price sits on the bar stool in a black woolen trench coat and a dark beanie, nursing a glass of whisky in his hands that rests against the counter.

“What’s with the long face, Captain,” Gaz sits at his side, the stools under them uncomfortable and threatening to give out from under them if one happens to take too deep a breath. Soap and Ghost are over playing pool, and the TV behind the counter was showing reruns of some hockey game that was absent of watchers. No one else was there beside them, “Whisky not up to par?”

“It tastes like piss water,” John mutters but still brings the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip, “But I’ve had worse, Sergeant. You?”

Gaz smirks, “I’ve had worse…Just tell Soap that I’m never letting him pick the bar ever again. Man’s bloody taste buds must be burned off if he calls this quality.”

John grunts, tilting his head to the side in an affirmative nod.

The area lapses into silence, the sound of billiard balls connecting to a cue stick loud as the smell of tobacco and cheap beer perforated the air. There weren’t any civvies left in the old-style building, and outside the rainstorm pounded against the front windows deterring anyone from venturing outside. The group probably should have stayed on Base, but Johnny had been insistent to the point everyone just gave in to the Scot’s demands.

After all, what harm could one drink do? They were all tired.

“Do you think she’ll show?” Gaz asks as the TV erupts with cheers; someone had scored, apparently. The Captain was never one for hockey – Liverpool was his go-to for football teams, and that was about it. In fact, he had a game to catch up on later if he could get the hell out of here in a timely fashion.

Gaz’s question makes the man lightly startle, sliding his gaze to his Sergeant with a sharply raised brow. He brings the glass to his lips once more and takes a swig, missing out on the burn that was found in his own Whisky stash back at his flat in London. It’s not hard to tell who Gaz is talking about.

“Unlikely,” John speaks through a sigh, going back to mindlessly watching the television as the bartender filters past to clean a table in the far corner. Soap cheers from the pool table, “Her…boyfriend’s making her dinner. Always does when she gets back.”

“Hm,” Gaz chuffs, “Lucky sod,” The Sergeant pauses, and John takes a deep breath at the mischievous tone the man beside him earns. It was too late at night for this bullshit, “I bet you wouldn’t mind having the girl in your home while you make her supper, eh, Cap?”

“Garrick,” Price says the last name slowly, fingers tightening over the cup on the table, “You want to be on sanitation duty for a month – two?”

“...Sir?” Letting out a nervous chuckle, Gaz sends a quick glance to Soap whose ears had quirked at the conversation a few feet away.

“Then I suggest you stop acting like a Muppet and mind your damn business. The girl is her own woman and deserves her privacy,” John sends a narrowed glance with a quirked eyebrow and a warning in his suddenly darker eyes, “Copy?”

“Copy, Sir…Apologies.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” John levels, twirling his glass in his large fingers before tossing back the last remnants inside. Swallowing, he stands and fixes the position of his beanie, feeling his bones creak with fatigue.

To everyone at the bar, Price looked annoyed that you had been brought up, but those who knew him best could tell that much more was going on. The man had kept the side of his eye on the front door the entire time 141 had been at the bar, shoe tapping against the dark wood floors as hours passed. Even more telling, Gaz had noticed that John had only had one glass of Whisky tonight – even if it tasted horrible the Captain was bound to drink at least three when they all went out.

It was tradition; everyone knew it. Captain Price of the 141 always had three glasses. Always. You would attest to that, considering that when you tagged along you made fun of him for it.

“You always have three glasses – I’ve never, for the life of me, figured out why it's always three! Do you never think ‘Oh, gee golly, maybe I’ll bloody have another lad, be a merry good Muppet and pour me another, yeah?’’

Your horrendously exaggerated British accent led to a few snickers that night, and Gaz had seen his Captain’s full body laugh for the first time; watching John sputtering as he coughed down the drink he had been sipping from.

“Love,” The man had stared at you with a deep smile, eyes crinkling, “Whatever just came out of your mouth, yeah? Never do that in my presence again. Accent’s shaken’ more than your hands when you have to stitch me up.”

“My stitches aren’t that bad, Asshat! You just move too fucken’ much!”

John scratches his forehead in the present and brushes off his jacket.

“Alright, Muppets…I think that’s it for the–”

The bell at the front door jingles.

Snapping his head over, Price freezes just as he sticks his hands in his jeans pockets, the grumbled words dying on his parted lips.

A figure was standing at the entrance, soaked to the bone and shivering like a sphinx cat in a snowstorm; water dripped from her nose to the rug. John’s jaw slightly slackens, eyes wide and snapping back and forth.

You were standing there, eyes gravitating from Soap and Ghost’s pool game – which had halted immediately at your sudden presence – until you blink a raindrop from your eyelashes and lock eyes with John.

“Sorry I’m late,” Your voice sounds like gravel, Price notes, head slowly tilting to try and understand why His legs had to tense to stop him from rushing over, his training alerting him to the redness of your eyes. You had been crying, why? “Storm’s coming down pretty hard, huh?” Attempting a chuckle, it seems to fall flat.

“Holy shit, Love,” Gaz mutters, snatching a rag from behind the counter of the bar and ignoring the complaints from the worker. He rushes past John, who continues to stare at you and fight his own subconscious, “Did you walk here?”

The Sergeant blinks at you in concern, eyes filtering up and down your body as he stands close and holds aloft the fabric.

“Nah,” Price watched you snatch the towel, going to pat it on your face and neck – running it over your hair and gripping, “Was outside for a little bit, but I came in the car…Oh, speaking of that, Simon,” You turn to the large man who bores his eyes into your face, “The brakes are acting up again – you think you could fix it up back on Base in your free time?”

Ghost taps the cue stick against the ground, lips behind his balaclava shifting as he speaks, “You goin’ to make me fix it up every time you get back? What do I look like, Bird? A mechanic?”

A weak smirk flickers over your lips, but John notices a particular bleakness in your eyes. Soap, who thus far had been strangely quiet, looks at him with flat lips and a small shake of his mohawked head.

Enough is enough, Price decides with a stubble tilt of his forehead, I’ve given her the space she needs – she’s telling me everything. Tonight.

His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hands out of his pockets just to cross them over his chest when you respond to Simon.

“I’ll clean your clothes for a month.”

“...Two.”

“Deal,” Nodding, you smile at Gaz in thanks and splay the towel over the banister beside you to help it dry, “Thanks, Gaz.”

“What happened to dinner with the Stoter?” Soap finally speaks as you make your way farther into the building. You send him a quick glance as you walk closer to John at the booth. The Scot levels you with a heavy stare, feet shoulder-length apart and jaw clicking, “He do something?”

A tense silence falls, and all the men send each other looks as you slink to the bar, jumping up on a stool and clearing your throat. You itch at the side of your bicep as you lick your lips in hesitation.

Why were you not saying anything?

John buries his fingernails into the meat of his arms, taking your lack of answer like a knife to the chest. It was like a switch had flipped as he saw your expression drop for a millisecond, layers cracking like you were barely held together. The veins in the Captain’s arms were flooded with blood, and his hands showed white knuckles.

There was a terrible reality settling behind his eyelids, and the man wasn’t in his job position because he was anything less than an observer. He was angry, that much was obvious by his tight jaw and dangerous eyes on the side of your face.

But there was something more important than revenge, and she was sitting right in front of him.

Your clothes are still dripping with water, and without hesitating when he spies you shiver, John shakes off his jacket and spreads it softly over your shoulders. When you jerk back in surprise he feels a part of him break, but steadies you with a thin quirk of his lips and pulls the front of the woolen material farther over your form.

What’s that fucken’ prat done to her? He growls internally, Mark my words…

The Captain’s eyes carefully narrow, orbs sliding over your face. His thumb goes to swipe a tear of water from your hairline and breathes out a sigh when your eyelids flutter.

Looking at your Captain with vulnerable eyes, you answer Soap’s question with a muttered, defeated, tone. It was like you were talking to your superior and not the man at the pool table.

“We...uh, I, broke up with him,” A moment of silence. Two.

John feels like he’s frozen in time, his body stiff, and his lungs shell-shocked. But in the farthest, most forced-down bits of his consciousness, he thinks there’s a part of him that’s…Christ, is he happy?

He nearly has to turn and leave to take a breather – gain his composure at his own disgusting thoughts – but your eyes hold him captive, unblinking despite the revelation.

You had…broken up with Leon. Your boyfriend.

John’s eyes slowly widen.

Oh.

—

“Well, It’s about damn time,” Soap interjects into the moment, gleeful, and you feel your eyes slip away from the cerulean blues of John’s widened sockets, in favor of the table-top, “Erm, no offense, of course, but that’s great news!”

“Shut up!” Gaz hisses, going over to slap at MacTavish’s arm, “Can’t you see she’s bloody gutted about it – idiot!”

“Hey, now. That excuse for a man was in no way worthy of being with a beauty like her–”

“Johnny,” Ghost utters lowly, the only one able to see your quickly deteriorating state besides the Captain who tries to comfort you, “Shut your trap.”

“C’mon L.t, you had to have seen how he…” Soap stops, finally looking at you, and the chuckle that had been building in his throat dissolved.

A hand settles on your shoulder, and you blink out of your trance, slowly turning your head to look out of the corner of your eye. John squeezes, and you find that his grip over his gifted jacket is warmer than anything you remember. But you don’t look at his face, instead, you tilt your head down and fold your arms on the counter, slotting your skull in the middle of them.

John’s hand gravitates to your back and rubs small circles, and above you, he mutters, “Talk to me, Love.”

“He…” You interrupt, hands tightening into fists. Your eyes burned something fierce, but you can just blame the shaking of your body on the wet clothes, “I was going to surprise him. He didn’t know that I was back in town yet, anyways. But, uh, he’s been cheating on me, I guess…Found ‘em in bed.”

Price’s hand stutters over its coarse, but he clears his throat and continues as your stomach tightens,

“Son of a fucken’ bastard,” Simon’s the first one to speak – which would have surprised you if you’d been paying attention, “That prick did what?”

Gaz murmurs, “Shit..,” off to the side, but your hidden gaze doesn’t bother to move as Soap lets off a string of curses and insults on Leon’s name.

The hand over your back is intoxicating, and you feel drunk as you focus on it. John’s fingers dig into his jacket, but just enough for you to feel his nails create a light stimulation through the layers. There was a sense to his actions, you know. He was trying to ground you; he wanted you to focus on his caress.

You didn’t want to admit how well it was working.

But it was a good thing he did because you have a feeling if he wasn’t there you’d be replaying the events of tonight in your mind one after the other like a fucked up movie.

Leon really did that, You suck in a shaky breath that leaves John moving closer, and you hear muttered conversations from above you, All of those years…Did I really miss something as obvious as him cheating on me?

It couldn’t be helped.

When you came back from deployments your mind let go of the hyper-focus that was ingrained into you – that Price had ingrained into you – and settled into a haze of sanctity. Home meant food, sleep, and a place of comfort. But when the fighting started you suppose a part of that focus came back to you, blocking out everything that didn’t matter.

Missing pictures, clothes stuffed where they shouldn’t be, your hair products hidden. They were pointless in the grand scheme of things because you were at battle in your own house. It was small compared to your breaking relationship.

Maybe that’s when I stopped loving him, You reason, and it’s the first time you admit you didn’t care about Leon in that way anymore, When the fighting started. Did I unconsciously know what he’d done?

You had been more irritable when you were back at the house, some fights even instigated by you.

“But how did I miss it…?” You can’t help but whisper, strained, into the woodgrain of the counter in your cocoon.

“None of that,” John suddenly says, voice low, and his hand over you halts, “That’s a good way to mess your head up, that is, Love. Just stay here.”

Shivering, you sniffle, lungs stuttering and with a hot face stained with embarrassment, you whimper out, “I’m such an idiot.”

The stool beside you screeches as it’s pulled out.

“You say that again I’m leaving you on desk rotation for a week,” John grunts, and from your hiding place your head shifts, one eye peeking out from over your arm. You find the man glaring at you so heatedly you pause as tears start to leak down your cheeks once more, “I mean it. None of that bullshit – you are not at fault – that,” He pauses, and you see his chest sputter as he tries to collect himself. Price’s eyes flash with rage before it’s gone in an instant, “That’s the bloody bastard’s cross to carry, Love. Understand me?”

You stare at him; at his boiling blue eyes as the sound of a hockey game plays in the background of this shitty bar. The warm lights overhead gather in them to flicker like stars when he blinks, creating constellations for you to memorize when his eyelids once more pull back.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He levels, head with that black beanie tilting closer, “Copy?”

“Copy,” You croak out, blinking to clear the fuzziness of your eyes. Reaching one of your hands, you pull the jacket closer around your neck. It smells like John, and whether you notice it or not, the tension in your muscles leaks when you inhale smoke, pine trees, and gunpowder.

Patting you on the back, the man stares into you, optics stuck on the image of your tear-stained cheeks and dripping hair. His trench coat was most likely going to be soaked, but he found he didn’t care. If it brought you comfort, the outrageous price he paid for it would be made back tenfold. Maybe he’d even let you keep it; didn’t matter if it was his favorite, he would give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it.

Not able to stop the words coming out of his mouth when you meet his gaze with fluttering eyelashes, John speaks once more as he feels the gazes of his teammates around him. But the words came easily.

“You didn’t deserve to come home to that. That boy doesn’t know what he’s just lost, alright?” When he sees your cheeks move in a small, barely-there smile, and the way your eyes lit with embers at his teasing tone, the Captain let a smirk of his own fall. But he still refused to speak Leon’s name aloud – his own anger was held on a thin string that was fraying by the moment. You? Getting cheated on? Who in their right mind would do that?! The Muppet didn’t deserve to have your perfect ears twitch at his name ever again, “At least tell me you ripped him a new pair, Love? If not, I’ll have to review your training exercises. Maybe add in a bracket for hand-to-hand.”

“...I might have sucker-punched him.”

John’s chuckle is velvet as it slips through your eardrums.

“Attagirl, I’d have paid to see that, I wager. Everyone knows you throw a heavy hand,” Your giggle makes his heart soar; beat violently in his breast.

He’d give everything to hear you make that noise again.

“Did it down him?” Your head slowly peaks up farther, perfect chin now visible. Your short-lived tears had stopped.

“Twirled like a dancer on a string.”

“Bloody brilliant, my girl. Bloody fucken’ brilliant.” Nodding, John smiles, beard pulling back to show pearl-white teeth, and claps your shoulder.

You love the way he makes you feel, like everything you do is well-thought-out and not just spur of the moment. Creasing your eyelids, you rub at your cheeks to try and wipe away the heat of them, knowing that wouldn’t work but still trying. John made your brain pump with dopamine, giddiness striking you in the chest like a bullet with a simple smile and his hand on your back.

…Why was his hand still on your back?

“This place got any good drinks?” You ask, trying not to look so entranced by the man in front of you.

John’s grip slips away and you hate that you want to snatch at it; feel the calluses burn your skin and dig into sensitive flesh. Breaking up with Leon had given you an adrenaline spike, one that lasted so long you were still riding it – only just now was the raging of your heart beginning to still.

It was a bad thought, you told yourself, a horrible thought to have right now…but damn it if John didn’t look like the solution to all of your problems, that yearning urge to feel good.

Leon was gone.

“Hm,” Your Captain murmurs, and your trailing eyes snap from his tight athletic shirt to his face. John turns himself to the front, grunting and setting his elbows on the counter, he lifts one finger up into the air to the frowning bartender and sends you a glace, “Unfortunately, MacTavish picked a place before I could verify,” The bartender thumps over and the Captain confidently says, “One Old Fashioned for the lady, and a refill for me, yeah?”

The bartender's eyebrows furrow, “Old Fashioned? What the hell is that?”

John’s body stills, and his face blanks as if he’s been personally offended. Laughing, you move back from the counter, hopping off the stool and going to stand near your Captain. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you tilt your head when his full attention whips to you.

His eyes glance at your hand before they settle; softening around the cold edges as the pupils widen. You nearly lose your breath at the sight…It made you want to snatch that hat off his head and make him chase you down for it; hold you to his chest and squeeze.

Stop it.

“I think I’m gonna head back to Base,” You say aloud, “Hang out in the Rec room and go to bed early. Maybe get a headstart on reports for tomorrow,” Looking back at the boys, you begin taking off Price’s trench coat, small hesitations in your nerves showing how much you wanted to keep it around you. But you needed to leave – clear your head without John’s scent making you hazy, “Don’t stay out too long, boys, I’m not coming to drag you back.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Simon utters, knocking a billiard ball and watching the ricochets. He sends you a guarded look, numb eyes running over you, “Drive safe. Weathers looken’ like it's letting up, but don’t trust it.”

“Right,” You nod. You know what he really means.

Gaz is watching you and sending quick glances to Soap with his dark eyes, and you see the Scot clenching his stick with a white-knuckled grip – blue eyes glaring at the table with a clenched jaw and tensing biceps. Like he was itching to lay someone on the ground and wale on them.

Your lips twitch. Soap had been by your side for four months; watching your back just as you had his. That creates a bond of brotherhood that can’t be overlooked. The stocky man was perhaps more upset about this ordeal than you were, now that you thought about it. The Task Force didn’t even know the extent of your fights with Leon – they’d kill him if they did.

If you even mentioned your Grandma’s lamp, the boys would rip your Ex apart.

“Suds,” Calling out, you fold John’s jacket over your arm. Soap whips his head to you, blinking back to focus.

“Yeah, Little Lady. You need something?”

“I need you to stop strangling the Cue Stick. You’re gonna break it before Simon can beat you, and that would just be embarrassing,” Soap stares at you, mouth slightly open, before he snaps to his iron grip and unclenches his hand.

“R-right,” The Scot’s eyes crease, and he itches at his mohawk with his free hand. A pause, “Are you…alright?”

You hesitate, looking to the floor as your feet shuffle before your right yourself, “I will be.”

Turning to John, you hold out your arm and feel heat on the tips of your ears when he’s already meeting your line of sight.

“Sorry about the water,” Trying not to let out a weak chuckle, you fail, “It looked pretty expensive just to be ruined by me. I’ll pay you for the dry cleaning bill.”

Price grunts, already shaking his head and lightly gripping you by the arm to push the jacket back to you. He stands up and you suck in a quick breath, nose nearly brushing his peck from how close you both were.

“You’ll need it,” Your eyebrows crease, not understanding, as he smirks at you, “What kind of Captain would I be if I let you drive back alone after all this?” John grumbles, shaking his head and pulling out his wallet, “I’m driven’ that’s an order.”

He tosses a fifty on the table for the bill and nods to the boys over your head, an authoritative tone leaking out. You don’t move away from him, letting his body heat leave you shivering and taking in shallow breaths. Try as you might, your mouth denies to refuse him.

“Be back on Base by 0100 and up for drills at 0500. It’s your fault if you Muppets only get five hours of sleep,” John lays a hand behind your shoulder blades and you let him guide you to the door, “Soap – you’re due for debriefs at 0800 in my office. I expect you to be punctual.”

A quiet grunt carries over the space.

You slip on the jacket, clearly seeing that John wouldn’t let up on this. Maybe…maybe you wouldn’t mind the company of the large-bodied Captain. Already the pain of being cheated on was dull when he was around. But would you be able to focus if he was right by you like this? You doubted it.

Slapping Gaz on the shoulder as you pass him, he sends you a soft look and utters, “Get some sleep, Love, alright? It’ll all be better in the morning. I’ll make sure the boys are back at Base soon so you don’t have to worry about ‘em.”

“Thanks, Garrick. Means a lot. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You bet.”

“Behave, Sergeant,” John makes it to the door, opening it for you and feeling the draft enter, “Ghost,” The manchester man tilts his covered head from where he stands bent over the pool table, “watch these two, yeah?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hey–!”

“What in the–!”

Price lets the door slam shut and whispers past your smile-split face, watching through the window as Soap and Gaz level offended gazes out at the Captain through the racing raindrops on the glass. Simon stands a bit straighter and once again scores on Johnny.

“They’re going to hold a grudge for weeks, John. Putting Ghost in charge of them when they’re on leave? Really? He’s never going to let the two live it down,” You say above the rain as you lead him to where your car is parked on the street, cheekiness littering your words.

“Let ‘em,” Price scoffs, and you feel his hands go to the jacket, puffing the collar up for you. Blinking away the rain, you smile shyly at the action, “not goin’ to change that they still have to get up tomorrow. After a twenty-mile run, I’m sure they’ll be too knackered to care, eh?”

“Hm,” You affirm, envisioning the future in your head with sadistic pleasure, and reach into your pocket. Tossing your keys into the air, John catches them effortlessly with a fast fist, only a small clink of the metal connecting heard.

You feel his eyes on you as you walk down the street, steadying you with a hand on your back even if he knew you were capable of walking by yourself. Above all, John was a gentleman – whenever you were with him, he always walked near the road, kept a hand in the small of your back, and watched the street with roaming eyes.

This was the first time you’d felt his gaze completely set on you. Had he always done that? No, you knew, but recalled something from the back of your mind as you side-stepped a puddle, moving closer to John unconsciously. His hand’s weight becomes more prominent, angling you into his hold.

After Madagascar was when he had started looking at you more often...you had thought it was because of the injury, but was it?

Shaking away the thought, you quickly make it to your car and leave Price’s steady side, hand resting on the handle. The familiar sound of the lock clicking open has you rushing inside to escape the pitter-patter of rain on your skull. Snapping the door shut, John in the driver’s seat does the same.

You both look at each other, and can’t help the chuckles at the disheveled looks you both share.

“Wind-swept hair would look dashing on you, Captain,” You tease, nose crinkling as you shake your head. The beanie on the man’s head was weighed down and John grimaces at the feeling, glaring up at it before peeling it off his head.

His free hand goes to his hair, ruffling it to dispel some of the water.

“Bloody rain,” He mutters, sparing you a look only to find you’re watching intently with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

A tension grows, and for the first time, you don’t push the feeling away. Your smirk slowly slips, going slack as you watch water drip from John’s nose. The world outside the car seems to blur, and nothing but the pair of you exist in this state of perpetual stillness. John’s eyes are such a shade of blue you have to wonder if you could ever look at the ocean again and not think of him, or even smell smoke on the street and not search him out.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this about him, but how could you not?

“You’re staring, Love,” John mutters, and you blink, shocked, but the man makes no move to stop looking right back at you in turn. His beard shifts as his jaw moves, bristles accented by the light of the street lamps.

“Well, so are you,” Teasing, you send a nervous smile before shifting away to clip your seatbelt in place.

His hand stops you halfway, covering your own with a large grip as his fingers glide over your skin leaving white-hot sparks. Freezing you watch as Price’s hand squeezes yours and helps you lock the seatbelt into the clip. The man’s hand stays there a moment longer as you, wide-eyed, feel your fingers twitch under his; memorizing the feel of them.

“Thank you, John,” You breathe, and your grip moves, turning to capture his own and curl his fingers into yours. He flinches, before loosening and he studies your face, cerulean blue jumping from one spot on your visage to another, “For everything.”

The man’s body stills and he blinks down at you. His breath is shallow, rattling in his chest. Something was in his eyes you couldn’t name.

“...Anytime, Dear.”

Price’s hand falls from your hold and leaves to gravitate toward the keys in the ignition. He twists them, and immediately the shaking of the car tells you it’ll survive one more day. Settling farther into John’s jacket you nuzzle your head into the fabric, curling your arms around your middle and resting your eyes. You try to calm your raging heart as the car peels out into the road, breathing through the stuffy air that smells so much like the two of you.

The ride to Base is quiet, but not at all like the kind of silence that had suffocated you on the journey back to Leon’s home – this was a comforting silence. Once you might not have understood what that meant. After all, how could a lack of sound leave your eyelids heavy and a floating feeling in your head?

When the parking garage gate opened, you had blinked awake.

Did I fall asleep? Rubbing at your eyes, the crick in the back of your neck told you all you needed to know. Groaning, a small chuckle to your side leaves you turning to face John, who carefully drives down the ramp as you swallow down the dryness of your throat.

“Sleep well?” He raises an eyebrow, observing out ahead of him.

You scoff in retaliation and don’t answer as John picks a free spot and parks.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” Your ears twitch at his low tone and the rumble like a lullaby in his chest. Was he trying to put you back to sleep?

He gets out of the car and goes to your side as you continue to wake up, opening the door and unclipping your seatbelt.

“Steady,” John whispers, taking your hand and helping you out as your yawn, “I’ll give your keys back tomorrow afternoon, eh? You’ll lose ‘em like last time if I hand ‘em over to ya’ now.”

“Will not,” You retaliate, stumbling over nothing and causing your face to heat when John smiles, eyes crinkling in a tease.

“Will…You’ll get them back tomorrow. That’s that,” Grumbling, you huff but stay by his side as you both go to the main entrance, sliding past the door and nodding to the guard posted for watch duty.

“Captain, Ma’am,” The guard greets and a second later you’re both striding down the dimmed hallways with John sending you glances every so often.

“What is it, Captain?” Asking after it becomes too prominent to ignore, you send him a small smile, “I know I look like shit but I can’t be that bad to the point you have to ogle me.”

John’s face snaps forward and he clears his throat, hands going to slide into his pockets. You pull his jacket closer, eyes turning to silk.

He’s cute when he’s flustered.

“...Just makin’ sure you’re not going to pass out before you get back to your Barracks,” He blinks, and a blush hidden under his beard makes his ears turn red. You notice with a start that he had left his soggy hat in your car and that his messy hair made him look like he had gotten into a catfight. It was…an attractive look on him, to say the least, “...and you don’t look like shite, Sweetheart. You’re a beauty no matter what happens. Don’t say that about yourself.”

Your breath catches, and in that moment of struggling to breathe, you can only let out a tiny, “Oh, o-okay,” and try to walk straight as butterflies litter your stomach.

Did…did he call me beautiful? John called me beautiful.

A true, giddy, smile flickers over your lips even as you try to force it down; and just as simple as that, any hurt that Leon had left behind disappears. Everything is replaced by John’s large frame, blue eyes, and grunted words.

You get to your room and open the door, standing in the opening with dizzy thoughts. Turning around with a content expression, you’re forced to take a deep breath when your nose almost connects with a firm chest. Standing straighter, you snap your head up to find John towering above you, body heat melting into you and causing a reactionary shiver.

“John…?” You ask, head straining to stare at his down-turned face. Something lies hidden behind his eyes, flashing every so often as his gaze narrows. It was the same look as the one in the car, “What are you…?” His lips are thin, and something swirls in your gut when you see how his muscles tense. He’s holding something back.

If you moved any closer your breasts would brush against him, and under your water-heavy sweatshirt, your nipples harden at the idea.

Stop it, You warn yourself, but when he’s looking at you like that – bathed in the hallway light with wrecked hair and widened pupils – you can’t help the way your body reacts to his. Not anymore.

Leon was gone.

“You mind if I come in, Darling?” Your Captain’s raspy voice sings to your heart, pulse skipping a beat, “Wouldn’t want you to be alone right now, understand me?”

Taking a shallow breath, your hands at your sides start shaking, subtle actions making it all the more apparent of the growing fire.

You should say no. Tell him it wasn’t appropriate. But…there was no hiding the attraction you had for Price, not when your boyfriend was out of the picture. You should be mourning the lost relationship of your high school sweetheart, not just hopping into another confusing situation with your fucking superior!

Frowning, your shoulders hunch. If you said yes – which you really wanted to – that was the final signature on your self-respect and dignity. It would mean a whole stack of paperwork and many late nights. You could lose your job, get John kicked off the Task Force and demoted, the list was endless.

“Your thoughts are too loud,” Price comments, and he smiles down at you as your eyes widen, tension leaking away as you focus on his words like law, “It’ll be alright. You can say no if you want. You know that. It won’t hurt me.”

But it would, wouldn’t it, because it would hurt you too.

It was more than what was on the surface – the tension in the car that had festered ever since Madagascar told you already what would happen if you let him in. This had been the result of a number of years of pinning building one day after another into a mountain of need and lust. But there had always been a barrier in the way. Leon.

But Leon was gone now; where did that leave you with this stone in your stomach and a want to be with a man you now knew wanted you back?

And John was still giving you an out if you wanted it. A layered warning that this wasn’t the smartest decision for either of you.

“John,” You breathe, “I shouldn’t.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Neither should I.”

So that was ultimately why you grabbed his shirt, dragged him into your room, and finally smashed your lips to his.

John’s arms immediately wrap around your body and peel back his jacket from your form, kicking the door behind him closed so hard the wall rattles. You help, letting him grab the cuff and rip it off as your lips dance in needy kisses that leave your teeth clacking together and air falling from fast breaths.

His tongue runs over your lip and you open your mouth readily, not caring about how the floor’s going to form a puddle from the soaked jacket or the other water-clogged clothes when they inevitably hit the floor as well. John’s kiss was so intoxicating that when you first felt his hands steady you around your waist you pulled back in surprise, a trail of saliva leaving the two of you connected before it broke.

“John, we shouldn’t,” You say, breathless as air is sucked back into your red, shiny, lips. It was useless trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t what you wanted since you met him. Maybe Leon was right. Maybe you had been cheating this entire time. A traitorous, cheating, heart.

“No, we shouldn’t,” John growls out, accent far more prominent at that moment than ever before as his eyes darken; boring into your tissue to peel back the layers of your mind until all that remains is him. His lips were so red and shiny you wanted to bite them, “But I couldn’t bloody give a damn.”

His face once more slammed into yours, and one hand travels to the back of your head, firm. But, if you wished for it, it would leave in a millisecond and you could pull away without a word. All of this could end in a second and John or yourself would never bring it up again; forgetting the unprofessionalism and the way your body reacted to the swipe of his tongue over yours. The sounds you two were making were enough to make you cum right there – the panting, wet kissing. It was improper, dirty, but, beyond all of that…utterly addicting. How high he made you feel needed to be studied, you reasoned, no one could be like this.

Your hands snapped to his chest and you dig your nails into his shirt, dragging down and feeling his body jolt and squirm. John’s hand on your head tightened as you devoured each other, weaving into your hair as your fingers fall to latch onto his side, feeling the muscle tense and the man groan into your gasping mouth. His pelvis thrusts involuntarily, hitting your thigh.

The way he shutters against you leaves your legs rubbing firmly together as a pounding echoes in your navel. John drags you closer to him.

It seemed you made your decision, but you had a funny feeling you won’t regret it.

Heaving like a wounded animal, John peels back to twist you around, back connecting with the wall as his lips immediately hook onto your neck, saliva dripping down your pulse point in a long, slick, path. A wanton whimper leaves when you feel his beard scrape over your sensitive skin, leaving sparks in its wake that travel directly to your lower body. Using his right foot, the man shoves your legs apart, where you had them previously clenched together and pooling in hot, contained, desire.

“Don’t worry, Love,” He whispers, biting at your ear as your eyes flutter when he slides his thigh in between your splayed legs. You can’t help the loud moan you make when he snaps the thick portion of him up into your core and even through your pants you feel the instinctual, animalistic, urge to roll your pelvis. Fuck, you wanted to ride his thigh, come undone while he watched with those unwavering blues of his, “I’ll take care of you. Make you forget all about that poor bastard. Bloody prick doesn’t even know what he’s lost, but I nearly should thank him for it, yeah?”

“John,” You don’t know what you want, mind a hazy mess as one of your hands snaps to his head just like how he held yours and pulled at the strands tightly. Are you drunk? You feel drunk?

His hand on your thigh forces you to press down into his knee as he grunts in approval of your deteriorating state when you writhe with pleasure at the sensation.

“That idiot just gave me the best damn woman he ever could. Fucken’ fool, he is,” He’s muttering into your ear, head pressed into the wall, as your self-respect flies out the window at his next words, “I’ll fuck you better than he did, Love. C’mon, use me like I’ve wanted you to,” Your hips rut over the substitute for his dick with desperation to stimulate your needy clit, head rocking to the side in a heavy trace of puffing breaths.

Already the room was heating up, beginning to lose the scent of cinnamon from your old candle and reeking of sweat and carnal urgency.

“Just like that,” John whispers, words slow as the sensation of his tongue licking a stripe over your skin makes you pant and keen. Small jolts of pleasure run from the hard bud hidden behind wet layers, “Steady…Keep your head still.”

He goes back to leaving hickeys on your neck, and through your haze, you know he’s not thinking about how you’ll have to try and hide them tomorrow. John wants people to see the love bites, how they bruise purple and blue all over your throat and under your ear. He lays one on the junction of your shoulder and neck, and your eyes roll at the caress of a hot tongue and immediate sharp teeth digging into flesh a moment later; shuttering.

You hope he leaves some beard burn behind.

That's when you rip his head away by gripping his hair like a vise and then slam it into yours, shoving your tongue so far down his throat you listen to his chest rattle with shock at the action.

His knee jerks up, and you gasp with nerves that sizzle with lighting and a pool of slick in your core that leaks like a river before a strained plea is said into John’s maw, “Do that again.”

Your Captain doesn’t say anything, but his body shakes with need before doing what you ask. You could feel how hard he was through his pants as the weight digs into your stomach. The knowledge that you would get to feel him inside of you, stretching you open, served to confirm the fact that you would have to throw these panties away tomorrow.

God, he felt huge, thick, and firm.

John begins to jump his knee up and down, jolting your body as he pulls back to watch with awe at your body’s reaction; setting his forehead against yours. Whining, your back arches, and your shoes brush against the ground every other motion. Every movement sends your nerves alight. It was almost too much – oversensitivity threatening to pull you under with every perfectly angled jumping of your Captain’s knee.

You slick was staining his pants, completely soaking all layers.

“Fuck, look at you work, Love,” John was entranced as you got off on him, “Can’t believe that Bastard was getting this when you came back. See how soaked you’ve made me? Shit. Bloody temptress, you are.”

“Need you,” Your lips gasp out, legs shaking violently, “F-fingers. Inside. A-anything! Been wanting you for so long, John.” It was difficult to speak and focus on the pleasure at the same time, but you think he got the point.

Your pants were too tight, clothes grating to feel on your flesh. You want John’s hands on you. Now.

“Hm, what’s that?” Price grunts, still watching you move your clothed cunt against him with added fever.

Annoyance swirls.

“John,” Your mouth snarls, and his face shifts to look back up at you, noses squished together as you breathly sigh at another well-angled jump. Price’s chest rumbles with satisfaction, “Fuck me like how you stroke your cock to the thought of me.”

A moment of shocked silence at your vulgar language.

“Copy.” At once his knee is gone, and you’re squeaking as he grabs you by the waist and the world spins and dances around you.

John tosses you over his shoulder and the tension in your lower abdomen that had been building turns from a boil to a simmer. You’re about to complain before fingers begin working your shoe laces, tossing the boots off as the man strides to the bed in the corner.

He lays a heavy slap to your ass that makes you yelp out and hit his back in return. The sparks left behind make your legs clench and your stomach tighten; your hands tear into his back. John chuckles, smoothing over the spot before his grip travels, grabbing onto the waistband of your cargo’s. Ripping them down to your ankles, you moan at the sudden cool air on your cunt and shutter. Anticipation pools to produce a second pulse inside of you, getting louder and more ruthless by the second.

You were so horny it physically hurt to have his grip on you and not inside of you.

John tosses you to the bed and watches your tits as you bounce on the mattress, looking up at him with black-consumed eyes and a euphoric expression. He wastes no time – the man shucks off his boots and grips his belt with a veiny hand, ripping it from his pants and tossing it to the side. You had the best view of the large tent in his pants, violently straining the fabric in a way your hand can’t stop itself from clenching into the bed sheets.

“Touch yourself for me, Love, let me see you work that cunt of yours before I eat you out, yeah?”

Licking your lips, you moan, “Yes, Sir.”

“Ah, look at my good girl, listens so well to her Captain,” Your fingers aren’t as long or as thick as his are, so they can't do much as you slip them under your underwear and play with your weeping slit as you clench at the comment.

Your fourth and fifth fingers enter you, and your thumb presses into your stiff clit, moving in a tight circle as you stare into John’s eyes. Involuntarily, your lower body rocks in a steady motion as your eyes drink in the man and his heaving lungs...

You want him naked.

“Bloody Fucken’ hell,” Price throws off his shirt, and palms at his erection through his pants as his dog tags hit against his scarred and formed chest.

The sharp ‘V’ of his lower abdomen immediately draws your eyes downwards over the impressive physique, a trail of small dark hairs going lower and lower just to be shielded by the rough material of his pants. John’s skin glistens with sweat, and you want to lick it off of him. If possible, you get even wetter.

You smirk, hips jerking as you send a heavier motion on your nerve bundle; head rolling to the side and mouth opening as you feel yourself tighten around your fingers. That knot was returning, forming as you curl your digits in your slick heat, making your eyelids flutter.

When you open them again and force them to stay still, you find a heavenly sight beside you. Your eyes widen, and your slit tightens so violently your movements stutter and struggle like a noose had been tightened around your neck. The lungs inside of you gasp.

John’s pants and boxers were gone, leaving nothing on him besides his tags that clink and clatter as he jerks himself off at the sight of you. His sizable dick was red at the tip, lit with fire as precum dribbled out and splatted to the mattress right by your free hand – which clenches the sheets so hard you faintly hear a tear as your ears twitch. But your eyes don’t leave the magnificent sight in front of you watching like a hawk as John’s abdominal muscles tighten with every twisted motion of his hand.

He was so violent with himself, the exact opposite of how you were playing with your own body. That wasn’t to say the image was anything but fuel to the fire, though.

You whimper and writhe, wrist burning and palm completely soaked with natural lube.

“Ruining the show, Dear,” The tendon in Price’s neck flares, and a bead of sweat falls down his peck. Inside your sweatshirt, your breasts ache to be squeezed and abused.

Not processing his words for a moment, you pause your fast breaths to let out a high-pitched sound of confusion.

John doesn’t answer, because he moves his free hand and grips your panties, which stretch over your ministrations. He tears them down your thighs, and his touch is like a drug.

“There we go, Princess. Now I can see that pretty cunt of yours.” Keening at the praise, your back lightly arches from the bed, watching John continue to work himself and matching his pace, imagining him inside of you instead of your fingers, “You like that, yeah? You like when I speak to you like that, dirty girl?”

You bite into your lip, knot so tight you want to grab a pair of scissors and cut it before it tears you up. Fuck, you were so close, the erotic sounds of the both of you fucking yourselves are so wet it increases the pleasure spiking your veins.

A wet hand snaps to your wrist stopping you just seconds away from a release.

Gasping out in shocked desperation, your mouth releases a strangled plea of, “No, John, please.”

“Answer me when I speak to you,” You stare at your Captain’s bearded face as his hand keeps a heavy weight on your skin. He tears your fingers out of you and keeps them away from your core as you try and ferally move them back. John’s jaw is clenched – he holds you with the hand he was touching himself with not a second before, and you tense at the thought, “I asked you a question, Princess. I expect an answer if you want to cum.”

Tears of desperation form in your ducts. You were so close, but now the sensation was leaving again.

“Yes!” You yell, voice high, “Yes, John I like it when you tell me how good I am! It gets me wet for you… m-my cunt fucking needs you in it, please! I need you to fucking ruin me, Captain! I want your dick stretching me open like–”

His lips silence your rant, shoving the back of your head into the pillow and moving his body to shadow above yours. The action leaves you moaning so loud at the sensation of his athletic body you forgot the walls were thin and that you were sounding like you were in a pornographic film.

John smirks above you and replaces your fingers with his own, making your legs shake and twitch at the sensation of his callouses against your walls and his large digits burning as they enter you. He thrusts quickly, sopping wetness quickly making it easy, and the pleasure increases.

“Just had to say yes, Love,” His cock jumps and you feel it brush your lower abdomen, so painfully close but not quite. The man’s dog tags connect right above your face, swinging back and forth as he moves.

You gasp when his fingers curl, squelching echoes over the breathy chants of his name that you release.

“Look at how fucken’ wet you are,” John praises you, and your walls flutter, as he watches his fingers move in and out of you, “Gotta’ get a taste of that, Love…Take off your top for me so I can see those pretty tits bounce.”

Fuck you were on fire.

Your shaking limbs don't hesitate, hands snapping to throw the sweatshirt and your bra from you without a coherent thought in your brain. Completely bare before him, John’s expression darkens and swirls with lust. His fingers leave you and he moves down the mattress, leaving back on his knees and grabbing your thighs. Your chest heaves with adrenaline and bare need. This was better than any gunbattle – more thrilling than a training session, and far better than anything Leon had done to you.

John was focused on you. Entirely. The man was forsaking his own painfully erect cock just to go down on you; to taste your wetness like it was nectar.

Price hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, and your ankle digs into his back to bring him closer to your cunt.

“Easy there, Princess. I’ll give you what you need,” His breath spreads over your slit, and your hips jerk before his hand splays over your navel, thumb just brushing your throbbing clit. You try to buck again, whining, “Steady.”

He stares at your face as his tongue goes down to kitten licks your pussy, beard bristles poking your skin and leaving the flesh lit like a glowing ember.

“John!” You moan, and one of your hands snaps to your breast, squeezing as John explores your body, groaning deeply as he collects your slick on his tongue.

The man’s thumb goes to run circles around your nerve bundle, stimulating you as your body tries to move under his tight grip. But he has you under a tight rope, and the pleasure of it was nearly like being electrocuted over and over again. Your leg over his shoulder traps him there – eating you out like a man starved as his own hips begin to careen into the mattress. The pleasure of seeing you reduced to a blubbering mess that can only chant his name did primitive things to John’s mind.

And the way you were playing with your breasts…? Fuck, he was addicted to you; the way your body was perfect enough to devour.

John moans into your cunt, the vibrations biting every corner as the tension begins to shatter inside of you when his fingers go to assist his tongue. Your back arches as the muscle and digits work in tandem, pace increasing as the Captain curls over that perfect, spongy, spot that leaves tears falling down the side of your face.

“Fuck, just like that!” You wail, fingers flickering over your hardened nipple, “J-John just like that!”

The words were slurred, coming off as drunk as his beard leaves skin red and scraped on the inside of your thighs. Your cunt tightens, walls closing in around John’s tireless lapping and fingering. His thumb on your clit moves faster, and he lets your hips careen into his face over and over again as his large nose bumps against that same spot.

Tension builds and builds like an infection, and your free hand snaps to grip your Captain's hair, jerking his face farther into you and ruthlessly twisting the locks.

John whimpers into your slit, cock stuttering in its harsh rutting into the mattress, and your eyes erupt into stars, white light blowing up as your release makes time stand still.

Gutturally moaning into the hot air, you pant as you come down just to feel a tongue cleaning up your thighs, slurping up cum, and playing around with your sensitive flesh. Fingers still pump inside of you, helping you ride out anything that’s left.

You can’t speak beyond small whimpers and gasps at the movement, but when you look down you’re met with John’s ruined face.

His entire beard was stained, dripping cum down onto your navel as he licks at your clit once. Your hips jerk and you cry in protest at the oversensitivity of the abused area, eyes fluttering.

“Just as I thought,” John’s voice is velvet, dripping just like his beard and nose do as he licks his lips with a demented sucking noise “Boody perfect, doll. Could eat that cunt for hours, just to see you squirm when I’m fucken’ you with my tongue. Better than Whisky.”

You swallow as his hands caress your thighs, the grip traveling as his body slides up yours. His cock is heavy and leaking as it slides over your drenched slit. Thrusting up into it, the both of you gasp out. John lays drenched kisses all over your sweat-drowned body, leaving a trail of saliva and cum behind him as his own slots over you perfectly.

“Speak to me,” He groans, and your fingers still in his locks lightly pull as he pushes your still hand over your breast away with his nose. His hot mouth latches onto your nipple and sucks before laying a deep bite around it.

Writhing, he continues his expiration as a bead of sweat falls down your neck to pool at your bitten collarbone. John licks it up and continues like it’s nothing.

“F-feels good,” Is all you can say, not used to this type of treatment, “R-really good, Captain.”

“Yeah?” He sounds cheeky as his head pulls up to be above yours, hands pressing into the pillow beside your head, “Hm, think my Bird can take a cock? Want me opening that lovely cunt of yours up?”

Your heart pounds, hairs standing on end. The words were so vulgar, but you feel your arousal increase.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, Captain.”

John lays a gentle kiss on your bruised lips, and you taste your own release as he sighs into your mouth; connecting your foreheads together when he pulls away.

“I want your eyes on me the whole time, yeah?” He grunts, one hand going to grab at himself as he shivers above you. Chest bursting with anticipation, your free hand goes to intertwine its fingers with John’s beside your head – the other still gripping his hair, “I wanna see the way you lose yourself on me.”

You can’t answer before he’s filling you up.

Your eyes widen at the stretch, embers of pain bordering on the ledge of pleasure as the man pauses at your expression, going to play with your clit. On your face, your nose scrunches, hesitance floating in your orbs as you let out tight breaths even as his finger does wonders.

“S’alright,” John whispers to you, squeezing your hand and feeling the mewls your lips let out at the sensation of deep callouses, “I’ll be careful, Love. You can take me. Breathe.” Muttering paise as his cerulean blues bore into you, he resumes moving.

How could you even fit him all inside of you? The tip already burned to take so far into your womb.

But you were plenty wet, the squelching sound resumed, and John tilted his head down to see the way he disappeared inside your cunt like magic. Your thighs have to move farther up his own to help, one locking around his waist as a ring of milky liquid forms over the joining.

The man’s eyes widen when he spies the bulge forming in your lower body, the indent popping out like a hole that’s been repacked with too much dirt. For the final last push, the man forces himself to look away and back up at you – he wants to see how you react. But at the last seconds, John’s eyes roll back into his head when he finally hits the base, a throaty groan mixing with your high-pitched moan as he bottoms out. Your chest flutters against his, and both of your hearts are going so fast they can be seen through your flesh.

You were so full, stretching around him so wide it was a miracle you hadn’t torn something. Both of your stay there for a moment, feeling your walls spasm around him and panting. Sweat falls from Price’s chin, splashing to your skin as your eyelids threaten to close at the stranger inhabiting your most sensitive area. It felt so good.

Your mind completely blanks, eyes glazing over with rapture at the feeling of John’s cock curving so far into you that you know he’ll push into your cervix when he moves. Every minute movement – even the deep breath John takes to steady himself – leaves you needing stimulation as the veins of his dick press into your soft walls.

“M-move, please,” Your numb lips flutter, and John’s eyes open from above you, jaw clenched and one orb more squinted than the other.

“Yes, Ma’am,” He whispers, expression soft as your hand in his hair tightens to ground yourself.

John begins slowly, letting you get used to him and the burning that he brings to your insides when he retracts and re-enters. His thrusts are measured, at first.

“Such a good girl,” He says above you, and your eyes refocus, body loosening as your form gradually adapts. But you were right, he’s hitting every corner of you as easily as he breathes. So thick it's like nothing you've ever felt. Your hips are canting up to meet his shallowly, but John does most of the work. He wants to. He wants to please you like Leon never could, to treat you right, “Taken’ me so well. See you grippin’ me, Dear…t-that’s it,'' Your pussy throbs, and you feel him move a little faster, “You’re gettn’ it down, eh? There’s that pretty little face of yours – all screwed up ‘cause of me. Hm, don’t go cock-drunk on me yet, Lovely.”

“John,” Is what you chant as he begins to fuck you in earnest, pelvis slamming into you as you feel him brush your cervix, “Oh, John.”

“That’s it,” He pants and angles his thrusts up. The action makes you yowl, head tossing back as Price goes to bite into your neck again, dog tags cold against your skin, “There’s that sweet spot, yeah?”

He hits it every single time, marksmanship training telling him to keep attacking the most important part; tears blur your wide sight, back arching as his hand at your clit goes to hike your leg farther up his waist, the limb uselessly flying out behind his back. The deep press of his blunt nails into the flesh adds to the overstimulation, and you can’t keep up if you tried. Too pleasure drunk, you let him do what he wants, as long as you can feel his veiny cock hitting that spongy spot again. His dick thrusts into you with such devotion, ringing out pleasure like how one does to a rag.

“Fuck…” He muttered into your neck, “Won’t last long with you squeezing me like that. You’re so bloody tight.”

The snake was coiling in your gut, tail rattling as John throbs inside of your heat, moving over your skin like he was water over a rock. Loosening your hand from his hair, your nails go to dig into the fletch of his back, raking down his spine as he growls under you; sending a sharp thrust up that has you seeing sparks in your vision. It was building so quickly you couldn’t properly speak, only moan and wail and wine.

You were sure your nails were biting into his skin, leaving long red scratches behind as some sick form of proof. Maybe they were even drawing blood. A sadistic part of you wanted them too.

“C-close,” Your gasp enters the thick air as your legs shake. John bites your earlobe, lifting his head from your skin to look at you from the side of his blown eyes.

“W-where do you want it, Love?” He gasps, his beard scraping your skin until it’s raw. You hoped you had lotion in the bathroom for tomorrow, “C’mon gotta tell me before I lose myself.”

“Inside!” You yell, not even knowing what you’re saying anymore. If you did a part of you would have died from embarrassment. The man’s eyes snap fully to yours, widening; you feel his body shaking above you, hands clenching too tightly around your thigh and embrace as the flesh turns a different shade, “Please, Captain, fill me up. I wanna feel you dripping out of me for days! Please, I need your cum! Please, please…”

Price only sputters for a second before he begins to move like a man possessed. He pistons into you with heated movements and you gasp out in response, not sure how much more you could take but please don’t stop it feels so good. So, so, good when you move like that. Fill me with your seed.

“Made for me, you were,” John growls, ferally kissing you as you try to do the same back as he relentlessly pounds away, “I said it before, bloody fucken’ perfect. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need. Make you so full of me you’ll be leaking all over the damned sheets.”

The coil snaps and you clench around Price’s cock so hard he moans into your mouth as you do the same.

“Fuck..!” His hips jerk one more time before he spills into you, hot spurts of his seed coating your walls and leaking out of the ring you two had made.

Shaking, John lets you ride it out as he continues to shakily thrust into you, but it isn’t long before he has to stop and his dick softens inside of you. After a moment of violent deep breaths, he has to shift, exiting from your reddened and leaking hole. Shuttering at the feeling of his ridges once more leaving, the foreign emptiness finally settles into your bones, you feel his cum pooling from you to collect on the mattress; your lower skin feels wet to the touch as the liquid follows the lines of your body and sticks to every part available.

Lungs desperate for air, your body heaves and shivers; your eyes stay locked onto the ceiling above you, where you wished the metal was the same shade of blue as John’s eyes. You didn’t even notice the man himself had gone into your bathroom to receive a damp rag to clean you up until the rough material was leaving you flinching away from it.

“Careful now,” John speaks lowly, and you hear his dog tags below you as he swipes at your folds. Your eyelashes flutter, legs tensing, “Need to clean you up.”

He lays a kiss on your knee and continues for a few minutes, muttering compliments and kind words that you miss as your ears ring; he cleans your combined fluids from your spent cunt delicately, completely different from how he was abusing it a short while ago.

John leaves, and when he returns a second time, he slips into the bed in front of you, taking the wrecked covers and arranging you carefully so you were covered by them.

A moment of hot pressing bodies passes, and your head is pressed into the man’s raging chest, drawn back to consciousness by his heart when he shifts, “...Didn’t hurt you, did I, Love?”

“Hm,” You groan, and moving your legs results in needles digging into the fine tissue, “No. But you’re going to be carrying me tomorrow.”

Your Captain has the audacity to laugh, his hand going to rest on your ass, rubbing the skin as he draws you closer.

“Wanted to do that for a long time, Y’know,” He whispers, laying kisses to your hair, “Long time.”

“Me too,” You admit, sighing as your eyes flutter shut, “Since Madagascar, I think.”

John lightly flinches, “Madagascar?” It’s a question, but he already knows the answer, “What about…”

He trails.

“Leon?” You ask and Price grunts, knocking his nose down into your scalp as he draws circles into your skin. He didn’t like you saying that man’s name, “I think I wanted to break up with him…finding him with someone else just gave me an easy out, I guess,” You think over the event. Had you been relieved slightly? Perhaps, but it was easier to tell now than earlier, “It was just…”

Stopping you hum, and turn your head to lay a kiss on a scar on John’s chest in your vicinity.

“Easier.”

It’s not a question your Captain poses, it's a statement.

“Less complicated, yeah.” He breathes a sigh into your hair and fatigue leaves your lids falling quickly.

“We’ll talk more in the morning,” John mutters, “Copy?”

You don’t answer, because you’ve already fallen to sleep, body bruised and yet feeling far better than you had in years. John wanted to be with you, Leon was out of the picture – it was all turning up. But there was still that part of you that ached with betrayal, that bled when you poked at it with a finger; a wounded heart would do that. It bleeds for a bit.

Though, you knew John would be there with a bandage, to put pressure on the wound and catch the spills. Maybe that was selfish, but maybe you had a right to be for a little while. Your Captain certainly didn’t seem to mind.

John fell asleep quickly after, content for possibly the first time in years. He gets to hold you in his arms and wake up with you right by his side, even if the paperwork was going to be atrocious.

There was no doubt people had heard them, but it wasn’t like the Captain cared.

—

“Little Lady?” The knock wasn’t what woke you, John did. Looking up at him, he holds a finger to his lips and has a pleading look on his face. You raise a brow, about to go back to sleep before Soap’s voice makes you freeze, “I know you’re in there – you wouldn’t happn’ to have a clue where Price is, would you? Man missed the debriefing.”

Your wide eyes stay locked with Johns, Maybe If I don’t answer he’ll go a–

“That’s it, I'm coming in!”

“Wait!”

But the door was already opening – John hadn’t locked it, too caught up in the stupor of finally getting you into his arms and wetting his dick.

“...Steamn’ bloody Jesus!” Screaming and a quick rustling can be heard echoing out into the hallway, “...Well, well, well, Cap finally got the girl, did he? Bout’ time, I’d say! Tell me, now, how good was he in bed for an old man?”

“Stop lookn’ at her, you Muppet! I’ll hang you by the fucke–”

“How can’t I – her fucken’ tits are out and you’re about a bawhair away from her! Where else am I supposed to look, man?”

“Out!”

Soap rushes out, smiling wider than anything with gleaming eyes before stumbling and nearly careening into the wall as John Price rushes after, face red and snarling. The Captain had nothing more than a wrinkled, thin, standard white bed sheet around his tapered waist with dog tags fastened around his neck.

John’s clenched hand connects with the door frame and the rageful man leans out down the hall and yells, “When I find you, MacTavish, It’s your fucken’ neck under a goddamned rope! You hear me, Sergeant?! Your fucken’ neck!”

Vibrating laughter can be heard from the figure already disappearing down the corner of the woman’s Barracks.

“Wait till the boys hear about this!”

The door closes so loudly behind John that the wide-eyed bystanders in the hallway miss the lock being clicked into place with savage fingers. But the loud, chest-tightening, feminine laughter that forms moments later is none the clearer.

Well, secret’s out.

12K notes · View notes

joelsmochi · 4 months

Text

honey ♡ joel miller

rating: E 18+ only pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: joel is obviously beekeeping age warnings: not proofread, no outbreak, best friends dad!joel, soft!joel, unspecified 30+ year age gap, a hint unrealistic in the sense that sarah doesn’t care, lots of bee science, mentions of bees/bee stings (ouch), honey play (i had to), fingering, f receiving oral, kitchen sex, pet names, plenty of dirty talk (mhm yes yum) a/n: i totally didn’t google bee sex for like an hour just to be accurate… nope… no i didn’t. lol enjoy & happy valentines day ;)

“Which eyeshadow should I use?”

You looked at the small, black palette and its array of choices before telling Sarah, “Purple, it goes great with green dresses.”

Sarah began to brush the product onto her eyelids while she talked about her plans for tonight with her boyfriend, Alex; her voice became white noise as you caught a glimpse of her father in the backyard working on something.

“Your dad’s a beekeeper, right?” You asked without realizing you interrupted her.

“Uh… Yeah?”

“Cool… How’d he get into that? Doesn’t seem like the type to… Save bees?”

“What do you mean?” She mumbled beneath her working hand.

Shrugging, you tried to keep your expression and tone neutral. “Aren’t beekeepers usually a bit dorky?”

“My dad is a dork.”

“I mean, not really,” you chuckled, watching the man pull out the different trays and examine them. “It’s cute, your dad keeping bees… How old is he again?”

Sarah only rolled her eyes.

“He’s definitely beekeeping age,” you continued. “Kinda sweet. Him caring for a colony of bees in your backyard.”

Your best friend was now looking at you look at her father—correction: you were ogling him. Your attempts at seeming unbothered by his looks failed. Sarah always said you wore your heart on your forehead sometimes.

You just couldn’t help it; Joel was tall and big and broad and… Older. He wore a tough exterior, one that always intimidated you, but now you see him tending to bees. The man was a softie at heart, not to mention insanely hot.

His skin tanned even deeper from the long hours of being in the sun, and his forehead littered with droplets of sweat. Was it so wrong to think about Joel f—

“Sarah, I wanna fuck your d—“

“Oh, really?”

You shrugged and sat down on her bed. “Can you blame me?! He’s like… Twenty times hotter than the guys our age.”

“He’s also twenty times your age,” she spat.

“Doesn’t he have a brother?” You shamelessly asked.

She scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “Yeah, who’s married and has three kids.”

You groaned softly. “Bummer.”

“You have a fucking insane sex drive, you know?”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” you whined, “It’s making me masturbate more than I’d like.”

“You know what, if you wanna make the bold attempt to fuck my fifty year old dad then you have my blessing,” she sarcastically told you.

You simply raised an eyebrow and stared at her shit-eating grin, waiting for her to tell you she was joking. “Don’t bullshit me, Sarah, ‘cause you know I will.”

“Ah—la la la la la! I am not—I am not listening to it anymore. Get it out of your system before I take it back.”

You pretended to lock your lips and throw the key away as she got back on her boyfriend, but all you could think about was her dad.

♡

You waited for Sarah’s boyfriend’s car to leave the driveway before shakily fixing your hair and lip gloss, then you walked into the backyard with eyes set on the man and his work.

“Mr. Miller,” you called once you were a few feet away from him.

He looked up for a split second and motioned his head as a greeting, saying your name in response.

“Bees?”

“Yes, ma’am. Somethin’ I can help you with?”

Shrugging, you walked a little closer but kept your distance fearing a bee sting. “Maybe.”

He lifted a panel up and briefly examined it until he noticed the lingering silence. His dark eyes locked with yours and he sensed your hesitation. “You allergic?”

You only shook your head.

“They’re calm if you are.”

I am so not fucking calm right now, you thought.

“C’mere darlin’. I’ll show ya.”

He used his index and middle finger to beckon you, and you instantly fixated on why you were there in the first place.

You made the daring move to take a few more steps, ears coaxed by the hum of the colony.

“They usually only sting if you annoy them, or smell like a flower.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t spray floral perfume on my shirt this morning,” you joked.

He almost laughed as the bees didn’t seem to care for you so far. “Honeybees really don’t want to sting you.”

“‘Cause it kills ‘em, right?”

Nodding, Joel says, “Exactly. Their number one goal is to protect the queen. Second is to survive whatever threats they face.”

“How’d you get into this kinda stuff?” You asked.

You were trying to find some way to bring up your question without being sudden or rude, though beekeeping didn’t seem like a helpful topic.

“When Sarah was little she used to get a lot of rashes and she had some bad allergies. That over the counter medicine didn’t help, but honey helped. The natural shit— stuff they sell at the store… Well, it gets expensive. And I didn’t have as good a job as I do now... So I figured I’d give it a go and make my own honey.“

“That’s sweet of you. My dad always had me tough it out,” you chuckled.

“I have plenty stashed away in the kitchen. You’re welcome to take some,” he offered. “Hey, what was it you needed?”

“Oh, uh.” You pursed your lips unsure of whether or not you should lie. “Well, I have this sort of… Itch.”

“Itch? It’s not an STD is it, ‘cause I don’t think honey can help with that.”

You knew it was a deadpan joke but the tension had your face stuck in a scrunch.

“No. Not an STD,” you answered. “I just, uh… I really like you, I guess.”

“I hope so, you’ve been eating up half my groceries for the past twenty somethin’ years.”

Idiot.

“No, I mean…” You realized you wouldn’t be able to ask him. “Never mind, uh. Just forget it.”

He watched you turn and begin walking away before it dawned on him. “Oh!”

You faced him again, scratching your head and giving him a nervous look. “Yeah, like I said: forget it. We can just pretend I never asked—“

“Come here,” he said, adjusting his jeans and walking to the other side of the apiary. “Wanna show ya somethin’.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting your stress response of fleeing the scene and standing beside him again.

“Do you know why bees are so loyal to their queen?” He asked after pulling a panel out to show you.

“Mnh-mnh.”

“The queen is the only bee in the entire hive that can produce more bees. Again, a bee’s second main goal is to preserve the life of their species. The queen produces pheromones that calm the bees down and keep the structure within the colony. Drone bees are male bees that really only exist to mate with the queen when she’s a virgin and out of the hive. Worker bees are females that aren’t the queen, but they’re very nurturing. Especially to the queen because she’s the one in charge.”

“Ahh, a matriarchy. Count me in,” you giggled.

Joel chuckled and pulled a switchblade out of his pocket before forcing the blade to whip out. “Do you know how bees mate?”

His voice sounded a little more quiet, and his eyes met yours with curiosity. You shook your head and waited for him to explain.

“When a new queen is selected, she goes out just one time to find a group of drones who will essentially take her virginity. And drones have an endophallus so after they ejaculate into her, their insides are ripped out and the drone dies. When a new drone comes up to mate with the queen, he removes the last guy’s endophallus and does the same thing. Mate with her… And die. She can mate with about ten or twenty different drones before flying back to the hive and laying eggs.”

“So the drones’ only purpose is to mate with a queen?” You asked.

He began cutting away a small piece of the wax, and the honey trickled down slowly.

“It’s the only reason he lives,” Joel muttered. You watched his thick fingers scoop up the liquid gold and he raised them to your lips. “He waits… And waits… And waits… For the right queen to come along.”

He smirked at your amused expression.

“Are you trying to seduce me by telling me the sexual nature of bees?”

He softly shook his head and glanced at your shiny lips. “Not trying to seduce you. Just tellin’ you what most men really want.”

Exhaling, you tried to ignore his fingers lingering in front of your face. The sickly sweet smell of honey filled your nostrils as his words echoed inside of your head.

“Go on,” he whispered, “have a taste.”

It took you a few extra seconds to build up the confidence in order to take him on his dare, but you made sure you did it as slowly as possible.

Your lips parted and he immediately felt your warm breath flow over his fingers; instinctively, your tongue darted out to catch a drop of the honey before it fell to the ground. Then you wrapped your lips around his digits, softly moaning at the sweet tasting nectar that coated his wood scented fingers.

WIth steady eyes you watch his brown orbs darken with lust, hearing him let out a huff and seeing the muscles in his face relax as if your slick tongue gave him the satisfaction he’d been seeking for a long time.

You swirled your tongue around, persisted to taste every last drop. The thickness coated your throat while you desperately wanted it to be something other than honey.

Your lips left his hand with a wet pop that prompted him to lick whatever saliva and honey remained on his fingers.

“Tastes good.”

“Just good?”

“Tastes delicious,” you corrected.

He let out a soft chuckle and put the wood panel back in its place.

“Sarah know you’re out here?”

After rolling your eyes and smirking you said, “She doesn’t need to know. Actually quite sure she wouldn’t want to know. Besides, Alex just picked her up, so.”

“So we’re all alone,” he finished.

“I’m gonna go get some of that honey you were talking about. Though I might need your help finding the right cabinet.”

He watched you walk back into the house before following you; once inside he saw you reaching into a cabinet in the corner, but a big red bruise on your arm caught his attention.

Joel walked over to you and grabbed your arm. Confused, you tried to see what he was looking at to no avail.

“You got stung right here,” he said as if he read your mind. He started walking over to the correct cabinet.

Frowning, you lifted your arm before spotting the bump. “Weird. Didn’t even feel it.”

“S’normal,” he muttered.

He stepped in front you to lift you up underneath your arms and sit you on top of the kitchen island.

You carefully watched as he opened up a sealed mason jar and stood between your legs.

“Mmkay. Lift your arm up.”

You did as he told and tried not to grimace while he scraped the stinger out. Honestly you didn’t have to try too hard; he looked so good like this, taking good care of you. Focused and confident like he’d done this a million times. You were certain he had.

He dipped a finger into the jar and swiped a little honey over the bump, carefully rubbing it in and drifting his gaze to your eyes.

“Helps the itch,” he spoke. “You said you had one, right?”

“Think I’ve got a bigger itch,” you replied.

“Hmm. Where at?”

Biting your bottom lip you trailed a finger over your neck, finding your sweet spot and rubbing a small circle over it. “Here.”

Joel rubbed a some honey on your neck and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. He held back on sucking the skin, mindful that you might not be fond of hickeys.

“I get it?” His voice strained.

You hummed. “No… No it’s went down a little bit. Tryyy… Here.”

Your clavicle.

More honey. More licking.

“How ‘bout now?”

You took your shirt off revealing your breasts. “Try here, and here.”

Your breath shook when the cold liquid was smeared over your hardened nipples. Once he took the first one into his mouth you let a desperate breath and held the curve of his head in your palm, letting him have his way with your tits.

“Nope, still there,” you spoke once he pulled away.

His fingers found the button on your shorts, then the zipper.

“Damn itches,” he said, “they’re always so damn stubborn. Ain’t that right? S’okay. Think I have a remedy for that.”

Just like that your shorts and panties were off and his fingers scooped up some more honey—more than what was necessary for anything.

He bent down to your glistening pussy and lazily rubbed the honey all over. You’d be lying if you said that alone didn’t make that knot inside of you twist harder.

Joel’s tongue eagerly met your clit, and he didn’t bother wasting anymore time with teasing you. A gurgling moan left his mouth once he tasted your juices mixing with the honey, creating the perfect elixir for his tastebuds.

Your legs clamped around his head reactively but he was strong enough to force them apart and keep them open.

Whilst he sucked and pulled and lapped around your clit, your hands were reaching, searching for anything to grasp. As a result you ended up knocking over the jar and spilling its contents, but you were too dazed to give a fuck.

Somewhat annoyed with you flailing around like you’d never been eaten out before, Joel smacked the back of your thigh. You shuddered and calmed your body down, settling with pulling on his hair relentlessly since the force of his smack stung a little.

He preferred it that way; take your tension out on him. Make him hurt if it meant you felt good. It only stroked his ego.

His tongue slipped between your pussy lips and slurped up whatever it could, the vibrations making you cry out his name. He did it again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain until he was certain you were screaming from an orgasm.

Joel moaned at your thick cum pouring out of your cunt and down his sticky chin, drinking up anything he wasn’t missing.

He only stopped when he figured you’d had enough and stood eye level with you while fumbling with his belt buckle.

“I think that itch got a little deeper now,” he cockily said, “wouldn’t you say?”

Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly blown, mouth agape, and chest heaving. “I think you can reach it just fine, Joel.”

Holding back a boastful laugh, he lined his erection up with your soft entrance and slid inside carefully.

“So pretty,” he whispered, “you look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”

You pulled his face in for a sloppy kiss, happily tasting the mixture of you and his honey. He noticed your hand was tacky from the spill and stuck a few fingers into his mouth, spreading the stickiness anywhere he could get it.

“Your cock,” you moaned into his chin. “So big.”

“It’s all yours, princess,” he moaned.

His hips pulled back and then snapped back into yours; his tip pressing into the deepest part of your pussy.

“Fuck. You get so fucking deep,” he praised. “S’it feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you said against your will. “Oh my God, just like tha—fuck!”

Joel fucked you just the way you liked: fast, but not sloppily or too hard. He watched his cock disappear into you a dozen times, and he grew harder than he ever had before.

“You look so pretty with my cock inside. Such a dirty fucking girl,” he shouted over your moans. “You take it so well, baby.”

Joel felt the his orgasm begin to arrive so he pulled out and took a step back; you whined a bit and reached for him but you were already so sore.

Meanwhile he just undressed himself and laid you down on the marble countertop, climbing on top of you not long after.

“I hear you, baby,” he cooed. “You don’t need to beg… I’m gon’ take real good care a’you.”

You lazily smiled and wrapped your legs around his broad waist.

“There you go,” he whispered against your lips as he slid back into you, hearing your whines turn into moans. “There you go, sweetheart. I got you.”

He returned back to his original pace, only his hips thrusted harder into you. You felt every curve and vein along his cock, every inch he gave to you.

Your nails clawed at his back and feet dug into his hips. You reached for him in any way you could. His lips danced with yours as you drank each other’s honey-coated moans.

“Joel, fuck. Oh, Joel I’m gonna cum,” you admitted.

He felt your back arch off of the counter as if your tone was indicating enough.

“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so well. I got you, I got you. Need you to look at me, darlin’, can you do that? Can ya look at me with those pretty eyes when you cum?”

You struggled to open your eyes, wanting to wilt up at the intensity building inside of you. But once you saw his eyes again you were hooked.

“Good girl,” he chuckled, wearing the proudest grin imaginable. “Doing such a good job, let it out sweetie. You can cum.”

“I’m cu—oh!”

“I know, babygirl. I can feel it. Let it out for me. Let it out for daddy.”

He watched and held you as you writhed from your orgasm; your skin was on fire, stomach fluttering with elation.

Joel loved the sound of your voice calling his name, so precious and shameless. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make you his own, even if it had to be temporarily.

“Cum inside me,” you breathed out, feeling overstimulated and overstretched. “Need you to—ah.“

He leaned down for another kiss just when he began to cum inside, a feeling so raw and deep he hadn’t felt in years. He forgot how fucking good it felt, and savored it by pushing through every painful bit of the overstimulation.

Joel gave you a few more soft kisses and slowly got off of the island. He ran a hand over your thighs and watched you come down from your high.

“My hair is covered in honey,” you giggled.

“Let’s go wash you up. Maybe we can find a few more itches to scratch.”

#SORRY THIS IS KINDA RUSHED UMMM #pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou smut

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lxnarphase · 22 days

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GOOD MORNING, BABY ๋࣭ ⭑

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...ft. : h. hiromi + k. shiu + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. aoi

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, breeding kink, sukuna is a dickhead, shiu really loves his girl, hiromi loses his shit, aoi is a great boyfriend, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!

who does it to tease you ↴

✧ k. shiu ; he's slow, purposefully grinding right against your sex, his cock leaking precum all over your thighs when he pushes through them. shiu thinks it’s so fucking cute how you try to grind against nothing in your sleep, he can’t help but tease you a little bit, a little smirk on his face at all your reactions

“always makin' me do all the work, aren't ya? hm, got a pretty lil' pillow princess on my hands...” “your man had such a tough day, and your here all comfy and sweet, waiting for me t' touch you. tsk, should've come home sooner, didn't mean to leave my girl waiting." “god, always loved how damn soft you are, angel. mm, so so soft and warm, jus' for me. don't worry, i'll wake you up with my cock cummin' all over your pretty skin.”

✧ h. kinji ; to be fair, you caused this. you teased the poor man all day, and kinji knows he's getting you back when you telling him you're gonna take a nap, rubbing your hands against his chest while wearing nothing but his t-shirt. since you're soooo eager to tease, he had no issues with teasing you back.

“hm? going to pretend you sleep? c'mon, sweetheart, don’t you want to be fucked? you're so fuckin' cute when y'wanna try and be stubborn, hun." "i know you’re awake, i see your pretty eyes trying not to open. all you have to do is open them and i’ll stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead.” “thaaat’s it, baby, tha's my girl. rubbing up against me while looking so pretty. let’s give you a reward, hm? gonna pop the tip in an' see how fast we can get ya to cry for the rest of it.”

who does it because they are desperate ↴

✧ h. hiromi ; there’s no knowing what caused him to snap, but hiromi comes home practically feral. it's hot, so hot as he quickly takes off all his clothes, uncaring about his expensive suit jacket on the floor. he’s been thinking about you ever since he left his office, thinking about every curve of your body, every sweet noise you’d make, and how delicious you sound saying his name.

“honey, wake up, please. ’m not fucking you until you wake up and look at me. you're not getting my cock til you look at me.” “beg? oh, no, no, no, pretty thing, no teasing and no playing around. the only one that’s going to beg is you, baby. now stop being a little brat and be good for me, yeah? don't wanna punish you, not when you look so cute right now." "how about i just fuck your thighs and, cum all on them? you want my cum to go to waste? or do you want to be fucked full of my cum like a good girl? make your fucking choice.”

who wakes you up ↴

✧ r. sukuna ; sukuna doesn’t even go to thigh fucking, he skips that. no, he’s grumpy his sleep was interrupted by the annoying rush of blood to his dick. so now, he's biting your thighs, sucking on them before going down on you, using his tongue and fingers to prep you lazily shoving his stupidly big cock inside you, humming when you moan yourself awake.

“look who's awake. took you long enough, I put so much effort into making you feel good before I shoved my dick inside ya. hey, don't smack my tits, brat, i'll bite your damn hand off.” “hm? you want me to move? mm. why should i? ...because i woke you up? tch...you're lucky you're s' fucking pretty or i'd just jerk off and cum all over your face.” "fuck, always take me in s' fuckin' good...i trained this cunt right, now she knows how t' handle my cock. 'member when you couldn't even take half of it in? look at you now, turned ya into my nasty little cockslut."

✧ t. aoi ; you fell asleep in aoi's lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your head against his shoulder. the thigh fucking was supposed to happen, yes, but you were tired, opting out for cockwarming him as he watched whatever show he put on. but then you started squirming around, whining so cutely in your sleep. how could he not take care of his girl?

“oh, hiii, bunny...you’re finally awake? hey, shhh, shh, 's okay, i've got ya. feels real good, right? y'just sounded so cute, i couldn' help myself, pretty, you were squeezing me so tight.” “too slow? do you want me to go faster, darling? all you have to do is ask....heh, no, 'm not being mean! i just think you're cute all sleepy, is all.” “it’s hitting deep? yeah? maybe i should lift you higher and slam you down to see how deep i really can go.”

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saerins · 5 months

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[ ೀ pucker up, buttercup | itoshi sae ]

ೀ content: female reader, fluff, sae and reader are adults, pet names (sae’s choice of words are stupid/idiot, calls reader ‘my girl’), alcohol, slightly suggestive at the end. | wc 1.5k | notes: okay did a very quick drabble for sae for christmas !! merry christmas to you guys <3

ೀ summary: being sae’s girlfriend is tough. there’s a lot of things he can’t make time for, and unfortunately this time, it’s you. but somehow, he always pulls through.

it’s christmas eve and you’re at your company function, looking at the fruits of your hard labour.

the event hall is decked with christmas decorations; stockings lining the walls and corresponding to different names for everyone’s secret santa to gift accordingly, christmas lights surrounding every table, everyone getting their fair share of the catering you’d arranged.

“this is amazing,” your boss gushes as she excitedly throws her arms around you. she’s only a few years older than you, so it’s not all too surprising that she’s always super friendly with you.

“relax on the alcohol, okay?” you joke with her, smelling the liquor already.

she pouts at you, batting her eyelashes. “oh c’mon, are you still upset that your boyfriend couldn’t make it for christmas?”

you sigh, though you keep a strong front, smiling through it. being the private girlfriend of an international soccer superstar is tough; he has to miss holidays and special occasions and more often than not you can’t even get your calls through because he’s just that busy. you’d been excited for this year’s christmas though, because he had said he’d be able to fly back home this time.

but as it turns out, his manager—who so happens to love overworking him—has other plans. so all of that excitement just went down the drain. still, what else can you say to him other than good luck with it? you knew being his girlfriend was going to be tough, but it’s starting to take a toll after feeling like you barely exist in his world.

still, you stare at the message he last sent you.

i love you.

and you go soft. soft, because you know he means it. soft, because despite everything, you believe in the man you fell in love with. the one who gave you your first kiss back in high school, the one who’s so awkward that even initiating to hold hands last time had his entire face beet red. the one who never fails to assure you that in spite of the distance, he’s always still thinking of you.

you fiddle with your necklace, the promise ring sae gave you when you were back in high school sitting around your neck like it always has.

in between all the long distance arguments and the time differences and the i miss you, wish you were here with me, you still find yourself hopelessly in love with itoshi sae. even when your friends say they can’t imagine being in your shoes, even when numerous tabloids love to put models or athletes as your competition, you know there’s still no one else you’d rather be with than him.

“i’m fine, really,” you assure your boss, prying her off of you and then adjusting her so her arm is around your shoulder as you lead her to her stocking. “here, why don’t you busy yourself and see what your secret santa got you?”

you really just want to distract your boss so she wouldn’t accidentally end up throwing you a pity party. all you want to do today is to make it through it, spend the first hour of christmas day rounding up the party and then get home and sleep your day away. it’ll distract you from the absence of your boyfriend anyway.

as you watch your boss happily open up whatever’s in her stocking, you wonder if your secret santa got you anything. (of course, some secret santas are dicks and end up not getting their person anything.) so count yourself lucky when you open up your stocking to find both a gift and a card.

amused, you rip the card out of its envelope, your heart skipping a beat when you see that inside of it, there’s a picture of you and sae as high school kids, beside each other, his face deadpan while you’re grinning from ear to ear, resting your head against his shoulder. the message reads: i love you so much it’s stupid.

you’re still in shock but you open up the little gift box, maroon with a green bow on it. when you see what’s inside, you can’t help but chuckle.

holding it above you, under the light, you can see the words hey, stupid engraved on the side of the fake mistletoe before feeling a warm pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, cold lips catching you off guard as they press themselves against yours.

it fills you up inside, takes all the weight off your shoulders. you’ll recognise him anywhere, without having to look or hear, the way his lips feel against yours, how he holds you gently against him, laughing softly against your lips as you pull him closer to you by the collar.

never in your wildest dreams did you expect to see your boyfriend in japan, let alone at your work party of all places, and now here you both are, kissing under the mistletoe.

“woah relax there,” he teases you, pulling away but still holding you close.

he’s here, he’s actually here. his hair’s in a mess, and there are circles under his eyes, but he’s smiling. he’s smiling at you and he’s here with you and you don’t even feel the tears forming in your eyes because you’re too busy relishing in the moment.

“itoshi sae,” you call out to him, your hands patting on his body, his black coat and his scarf are real and he’s here—he’s really here. “i thought you were too busy to come back…”

how long has it been now since you’d last seen him? a year? perhaps longer? he’s been so busy nowadays that you wondered at one point if he would even come back to you at all.

sae sighs, holding your cheeks in his hands as he presses his forehead against yours. “i’m sorry,” he says tensely, shaking his head slightly. “i was away for so long, and i just…” his teal eyes stare into yours, both your eyelashes dancing against one another. “i missed you, and i just wanted to see you.”

you’re laughing in disbelief, still holding him close because you’re just that afraid that this’ll all be an illusion that might soon slip away. “and they just let you off like that? that simple?”

he presses his lips into a firm line, averting his gaze. “let’s just say that they weren’t happy about it but i’m the important one, so…” he smiles, genuinely, putting an arm around. “they don’t have a choice but to let me come home to see my girl.”

turns out, he’d called in a favour to your boss, asked her about christmas plans because he knew from your texts that you were in charge of putting it all together. and then he asked her to put the gifts in your stocking. and you laugh hearing about it, because you’re thinking of how your life could’ve gone a totally different way. you could’ve gotten into a relationship with someone else who wouldn’t do this much for you, wouldn’t make time for you, wouldn’t travel across the world and put their own things down all in the name of meeting you.

“what’re you thinking about, stupid?”

you look into his eyes, shaking your head. “nothing, it’s nothing, i just- i love you, itoshi sae.” you smile, and sae smiles too because he loves how your smile reaches your eyes. and he loves being the reason you smile so he’s going to keep being that—and he makes a promise to himself to make you happy for life. but maybe that’s a gesture for next time. right now, he just wants to spend the rest of the holidays with you.

the clock strikes twelve, and he steals the mistletoe from you, holding it up between the two of you again, wincing from how cheesy it is after he does it, earning a chuckle from you.

“merry christmas, idiot.” and he kisses you again, long and slow and completely oblivious to everyone else that’s there who are staring and clapping—half of them still in awe that the itoshi sae is here and half of them in shock after putting two and two together that he’s your special guy.

“so, you’re gonna be here till new years’?” you ask in between kisses.

sae nods, “at least, why?”

you grin, pulling him by the belt as you lead him out of the event hall. “think it’s time we get home and just spend it between the two of us, yeah?”

sae laughs, letting you drag him along, wondering whether by this time next year, will he be lucky enough to call you his wife?

but when he sees that promise ring he gifted you still nestling snug around your neck, he has no doubt. you’re each other’s for life. and you’re worth every single risk he has to take.

#bllk x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae x you #sae fluff #sae x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae fluff #itoshi sae imagines #sae imagines #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #૪ aeri’s fics !

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heyhihellosworld · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫

Charles Leclerc x reader

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: Your Charles supporter in every high and low, always there to celebrate and help him in every way possible

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (almost only smut), a little angst

Notes: First time I publish any work for Charleees and this became just smut basically. I didn't really have any plot, just started with the smut so it became a little weird but anyway. I still struggle writing smut so this is not great but I feel like it's getting better every time at least

"That was really... impressive" you smiled sarcastically, catching his annoyed face getting even more so as his eyes rolled. "Can you just not" he sighed, stopping in front of you and wiping his face off the sweat with the towel he'd received after quali.

"What, I'm just speaking facts"

Charles didn't answer that, he just narrowed his eyes before drinking big sips from his water bottle. "Seriously" you hummed, wanting to push his buttons even though you knew it wasn't the smartest seeing as he was already annoyed.

"It is impressive, crashing two days in a row. Wow, I'm just so excited to see what you will do tomorrow. Maybe crash?"

Charles let out a grunt, staring at you really unimpressed by your attitude as you gave him your famous smirk. That smirk that he hated and loved at the same time because even if it could get on his nerves in situations like these, that smirk was also the thing he loved about you.

"You know just what to say to cheer a man up huh" he spoke monotony, not even looking at you as he whipped up his phone "Oh I do" you tilled, looking at him with a teasing expression but he only shook his head.

"You know, Carlos' girlfriend hugs him or comforts him when he fails" He spoke lowly, almost accusingly as he gathered his stuff.

"Lucky Carlos" you hummed, smiling at your boyfriend who finally let out a chuckle. The frown on his beautiful face melting off and relaxing

You moved to him, erasing the meter of space between you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You know I support you and I will listen to your rant all evening so I gotta have some fun as well. You know I love you and think you are the best driver in the world" you tutted, pecking his lips as he smiled "That sounded so sincere darling" he hummed making you laugh, kissing him again "It was"

Race weekends were a thrill. You loved them and hated them at the same time. Being at the grid was a vibe in itself, something hard to describe but being so close to the action also meant close to the danger. You loved racing but you hated the risks and seeing your boyfriend in the action left you with a never-ending anxiety. But you knew it was his dream so you had no choice but to support him and swallow your worries.

Ferrari was his dream but also his curse. The never-ending struggles and the pressure he put on himself made him overworked and twitchy but you also knew he loved all aspects of racing and he truly believed he could achieve great things with the team. You didn't doubt it but the road there was long and it took effort, not only from Charles and the team but for you too.

The day in honor Charles started at pole but there wasn't much denying that he had had a tough weekend so far, pole in both qualifying but also in the wall two times which of course took a lot of confidence.

The race was boring to say the least, nothing happening and Red bull being far top left little to no excitement in the top two. The real fight was between Charles and Alonso, Charles managing all the way to the podium.

You bubbled with joy as you watched him celebrate on the podium, spraying Champagne and laughing before he came down again. A large smile and Champaign covering his already sweaty face.

"You did it" you grinned, hugging him tightly as he entered the garage again. "I did, not the wall today eh" he grinned smugly, kissing you passionately before you pushed him off not wanting to be too much in the public eye.

You celebrated with the rest of the grid in a club that evening, not wanting to let Charles miss out on the fun just because you were there even if the Monegasque had been more tempted to stay in the hotel-room.

Charles was glued to your side the whole evening, kissing your shoulders, grabbing your ass whenever you were out of sight and always finding an excuse to touch you. Not that you were complaining but he was touchier than usual.

"What's with you today Char? Go out and party" Pierre joked, shoving his friend in the shoulder as he sat on a small couch-group with you and a couple of others. "No no, don't feel like it" Charles dismissed. "What's with him?" Pierre asked directed to you but Charles answered anyway, eyes rolling at his friend "It's nothing with me" he chuckled, shaking his head at the Frenchman who didn't let up

"He is just a bit needy" you smiled, grinning at Charles who glared at you whilst Pierre laughed out loud, raising his hands in surrender "Don't let me stand in your way mate" he chuckled, backing away winking at both of you.

"For real?" Charles sighed unimpressed, looking at you with tired eyes as you couldn't contain your laughter. "But it's true, isn't it Char?" you hummed, teasingly tracing your fingertips up over his thigh, smirking at the way his breath hitched when your fingers danced over his bulge.

"Maybe" he murmured, shoving your hand away with a warning glare.

"It's nothing wrong with it baby" you grinned, mocking him with your expression.

"Shush you" he muttered, shoving you away from him whilst you laughed.

It didn't take long for Charles to run out of patience, especially not since you seemed to find a way to tease him in every way possible so when you arrived at the hotel it didn't surprise you when he immediately attacked you with kisses, eyes asking you to help him out.

"Aww" you mocked, a pout on your lips as you jerked him off faster "you're so needy baby" you hummed. Every time your hand went to his tip your thumb slid over his tip making him release the most amazing sounds.

He looked so beautiful when he was like this. All needy and vulnerable for you. His eyes were hooded, lips parted and his brow furrowed in concentration. A thin layer of sweat covered his body as he tried to let you do your thing despite his itching muscles and need to touch you.

He was close, you could clearly tell by the way his things tensed and bucked into your hand. "Y/n, baby, please" he gasped out, only making you speed up your movements. When your other hand made its way to gently touch his balls he was gone.

He threw his head back, eyes rolling as he stuttered out moans, quickly coming undone. The thought about stopping crossed your mind but the look on his face, begging you to not, made you finish him off.

Your lips hushed the sounds coming from his lips loud enough to be heard to the rooms around you and you knew he would be teased to death the next day if they heard him.

"Yes Charlie, that's it, come for me" you whispered, his eyes closing as he came over his stomach, body trembling as he breathed hard trying to catch his breath.

He stayed in the same position for a while, trying to stabilize his breath as you observed him. Sometimes you couldn't believe that out of all the people on this earth he chose you to be with, looking at him like this made you feel like he was something extreme. So beautiful you couldn't even describe it, lips parted, eyes hooded and skin shimmering in the late evening-light.

Soon enough he started to move, breaking you out of your little bubble. He got up on his knees, wraling the small way it was to where you were sitting crossed legged just right beside him before he gently pushed you down on the soft mattress. The playful grin he had on his face made you giggle as you fell on your back, inviting him to get on top of you.

"Stop laughing" he pouted, seemingly offended but the smile he couldn't hide betrayed him. "Sorry sorry" you smiled, patting his shoulder reassuringly as he hovered over you.

His smile mirrored yours, his dreamy eyes smiling too. "Wanna take care of you too" he murmured, his breath fanning your ear.'making you shiver. "Do whatever you want" you softly hummed back, gently running your fingers through his soft hair.

The way his eyes fell shut at the sensation and his neck craned into your touch made it clear that you were the one in charge tonight, he wanted you to take charge and he'd happily obey.

You let him be for a second, his lips kissing over your shoulder and neck as his fingers teasingly traced your panties. Fingers dipping into the waistband before disappearing to gently caress the soft skin on your tummy. When you let out a grunt of annoyance he immediately threw a glance at you, smirking as he got the memo.

You couldn't help but to let out a moan as his fingers finally dipped down into your panties. His slick fingers spread your wetness around before gently playing small precise circles on your clit. He loved watching your face whenever he was touching you, relishing in pride that he made you feel that way, that he could make you cum and become fuzzy for him.

His fingers found your entrance, slowly flicking into you making your mouth fall open. Your body wriggle around, trying to get away from his skillful fingers as it felt too good. His thumb connecting to your clit made the dam break as you pushed his hand away. Challenging him with your look as he whined, wanting to make you cum.

He immediately fell quiet when he saw your look, your hand wrapping delicately around his throat as you kissed over his jaw. "What was that huh?" you hummed, feeding on the sound he let past his lips. "Nothing" he hummed quickly, eyes fleeting over you as a wicked smirk crawled over your face. You loved this power-balance you had. Having Charles dominate you was always bound to be thrilling but you also loved being the one in charge. Having him following your demands was a rare type of power, of course built on complete trust. But you also loved how you sometimes didn't need to have any power, you could just be you, together.

Today was your chance to take the reins though, feeling like it had been a while since you did last since Charles had gone through a period of wanting control, which you didn't mind at all but it did feel great to take charge now.

Your fingers tightened slightly around his throat, not hard enough to choke him for real, just to mark your dominance.

"Thought so" you smirked, flipping him around so you were on top. You gave him a cheeky smile as your mouth trailed a path of kisses down his chest and over his navel, kissing over his abs and v-line as he breathed hard. Your mouth graced over his rock-hard dick but you ignored it for the time being, wanting to tease him slightly.

"Y/n please" he pleaded, hips rutting to get close to your mouth but you just chuckled, pressing his hips down on the sheet as you licked over his abs. "What is it baby?" you hummed in a mocking tone, innocent eyes blinking up at him as you licked up his chest before hanging your face close to his.

"What do you want, Charlie?" you hummed again, breathing over his face because you knew it drove him crazy, along with calling him Charlie that you knew turned him on when in this situation. "Want you to touch me, fuck me, please" he hurried out, his hands gripping onto your hips hard.

"Aww are you needy again" you teased, kissing over his cheek as he tried to calm down his shallow breathing. "Please y/n" he whined, trying to position you over his dick with his hands but you only tutted at him "No no" you chuckled, slapping his hands away.

He looked so fragile and vulnerable in the way he laid there, trying to obey your wishes whilst fighting to not break. His eyes were glossy, body twitchy and lips swollen from biting at them. You took pity on him as he wriggled, uncomfortably hard and face contorting.

"Aw baby, look at you" you mocked, wrapping your fingers around his dick softly which made him gasp out a moan, eyes squeezing together.

"Fuck, I hate when you are bratty like this" Charles moaned out, making you chuckle at him, smirking cheekily. "You do?" you teased, jerking him off slightly quicker, relishing in the sharp breath he breathed in before letting his head fall back into the pillows

"I really do, but I love it too" he murmured, biting his lip so hard it would draw blood "Oh I know you do Charlie, the submissive part of you love to be under my mercy. But the dominant part wants to punish me, doesn't it?"

"It really does" he gritted out as your thumb rubbed over his sensitive tip "Oh but I know you love this so much right now Char, just laying here and taking what I give you, letting me control you" your voice was thick, seductive and sweet as sugar as he nodded "I do love it"

You chuckled again, slowly stroking him before stopping completely not wanting him to cum like this.

You kissed his lips sweetly, his lips melting into yours as you lined him up with you, slowly rubbing his dick over your wetness. When you started to sink down on him he broke the kiss, gasping in symphony with you as you sank down all the way, taking him to the hilt.

"Fuck baby" he moaned, blinking quickly as you stroke his cheek, breathing heavily into his neck, your hips moving in circles, letting yourself get used to him.

After a few seconds of kissing and snogging you sat up so you straddled him for real, your hands planted firmly on his strong chest as you started to move more firmly on him.

His hands on your hips simply stayed still, you not letting him control your movements as you quickened your pace before slowing down, rolling your hips to create the best pattern for both of your pleasure.

Both of your moans bounced around in the hotel-room. No longer being able to think long enough to cover either of your mouths as the sounds got stronger and louder the longer you rode him.

"Fuck fuck y/n, I'm close, please" he blabbered, blinking up at you with the most pleasure struck look you'd ever seen on him. "It's okay baby" you hummed, going faster over him, slamming your hips down on his every time he bottomed out inside of you.

"A-are you close?" he asked softly. You nodded, stilling your hips for a moment as you took a grip on his hand, leading it to your pussy and firmly placing his fingers on your clit. Charles didn't need more instructions than that as you started moving again, rubbing firm precise circles over your clit in the way he knew drove you crazy, and tonight was no different.

It got harder to move smoothly as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly, your head dropping as your moans became louder. Your eyes found his, asking him to help you and he understood, meeting your thrusts with his own making him feel even bigger and reach even deeper inside of you. You angled your hip, trying to hit the perfect spot and when you did find it, it didn't take long for your eyes to roll as your orgasm flooded over you, taking Charles with you as he moaned out loud, not caring anymore.

It took a few minutes for you both to calm down and regain your normal breath. You lead him to the shower, taking turns in gently washing each-other to get rid of the sticky feeling of sex.

You wrapped yourself in his arms, peppering his face with kisses as he chuckled, wrapping you tightly to his chest. "Love you amor" he whispered, his characteristic smile playing on his lips. "Love you to Char" you hummed, stroking beads of hair out of his tired face "Love you even if you drive in to the wall" you smiled, catching his eyes roll before chuckling in defeat "as long as you don't hurt yourself of course" you added, kissing his nose sweetly.

#f1 #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #ferrari #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc oneshot #f1 oneshot #scuderia ferrari

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