just a girl who likes reading smut

you didn’t mean for it to happen, but once the damage was done, you knew you’d be in trouble.

you may or may not have goofed around with your friends for the first month and a half of the semester, unknowingly prioritizing fun over your academics. sure, your attendance was on point and you never missed an assignment, but when you started going out to frat parties almost every weekend with your homegirls, your grades unfortunately started to slip.

it all happened so fast — the parties, the drinking, the Friday night outings, the reckless fun that practically took over your life — but it all stopped as quick as it started once your midterm grades got released. Cs and below stared threateningly at you, and you swore you felt your heart drop straight to your ass at the sight.

you didn’t know how it happened. you had always been an A and B student, so the sight of multiple grades below those made you sick to your stomach. but when Cameron found out? you felt like you could’ve vomited right in his face.

Cameron wasn’t the type to really fuss at you or even be strict on you, but when he found out what your grades were, he practically turned into your father. he got on you about your grades firmer than you expected, but the moment he told you that he’d stop fucking you and touching you sexually until you got your grades up was when you went rigid.

granted, you weren’t mad at him for taking away those privileges — you shouldn’t have even let your grades slip this bad anyway — but you knew your sexual frustration would eat away at you until the semester ended and final grades were released.

so what did you do? you worked your ass off for the rest of the semester to fix your grades.

no more parties, no more drinking, no more Friday night outings — nothing. when the weekend came, you had completely sheltered yourself in your room with nothing but your laptop and notebooks as you completed assignments and studied for upcoming exams.

you were determined to get your grades back up, but you were even more determined to be rewarded by Cameron for getting your grades back up.

once the semester came to an end and final exams wrapped up, you were practically ecstatic. you had a good feeling that you brought up your grades, but you knew you couldn’t say anything to Cameron about them because he’d ask for proof, so you waited until you were notified that final grades had been released — which came quicker than you expected.

you wasted no time logging into your Banner account and clicking through it to see your grades, your eyes lighting up at the sight of As and Bs staring back at you. satisfaction and relief coursed deeply through you as the realization settled in — you recovered rather quickly from what could’ve been a horrible blow to your GPA.

you didn’t bother celebrating on your own, though. the moment you saw your grades, you were already in the driver’s seat of your car. you drove to Cameron’s apartment with nothing but intense excitement and suppressed sexual desire inside you — though your excitement seemingly overpowered everything else because when you arrived at his apartment, you practically bursted through his door.

“Cameroooon!” you called out excitedly as you quickly pushed open his door and unintentionally slammed it behind you, swiftly locking it before taking off through his apartment, “baby! where you at?!”

Cameron jumped at the sudden sound of your appearance and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion mixed with amusement as he sat up on the couch and watched you practically pace through his humble abode to find him, “i’m in the living room. why you screamin’, you good?”

a squeal flew from your mouth before you could catch it at the sound of his voice and you ran into the living room as you threw yourself at him and into his lap, making him grunt before laughing at you while his arms instinctively wrapped around your body to steady you.

“what’s goin’ on with you, ma? why you runnin’ around here like somebody after you or some shit?” Cameron laughed as both of his eyebrows raised and he leaned back against the couch to properly look at you, his arms loosening around you and his hands moving to hold your waist.

“look!” you practically shoved your phone into his chest, but his reflexes kicked in and one of his hands caught it before it could actually come in contact with him, “i did it, Cam!”

Cameron let out a soft snort at your frantic joy and he adjusted his grip on your phone as he lifted it and his eyes averted to the screen, an understanding smile crossing his face once it clicked in his mind why you were so excited.

“see, that’s what i’m talking ‘bout. congrats, baby, i knew you could do it.” Cameron smiled, looking up at you, as you smiled back, yours wider than his, and you leaned down to him, peppering kisses across his face before moving your mouth to his and pecking his lips multiple times.

“okay, now eat my pussy,” you mumbled between pecks as Cameron laughed lowly and sat your phone aside, his hand on your waist sliding around to rest against your back while his other gently grabbed the back of your neck and slightly pulled you back from his mouth, “Cameron, come on— i haven’t felt any part of you in so long, i need this.”

“that ain’t how you ask, pretty,” Cameron teased, a small smirk creeping onto his face, as you groaned softly and rested your hands against his shoulders, a pout absentmindedly forming on your face at his denial, “ask for it properly.”

“can you please eat my pussy, baby?” you asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him, as your thumbs traced small circles against his shoulders and Cameron’s smirk slightly widened, “i need you, Cam, you know that.”

Cameron looked at you silently for a moment, letting the weight of your words settle into the atmosphere, before he suddenly wrapped his arms around you and flipped you over, eliciting an abrupt squeal from you while he laid you on your back.

“well… since you asked nicely,” Cameron paused and gently pecked your lips before slowly maneuvering down your body, “and you brought your grades up like i wanted you to,” he paused again and hooked his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants as he teasingly tugged at them before pulling them down and throwing them aside, “i should reward you for that, huh?”

“yeah,” your voice was softer than before — a bit breathy as well — and you raised your hips as you helped him remove the last barrier of clothing that covered your lower body, “you should.”

“i got you, mama.” Cameron’s arms wrapped around your legs and he spread them wide as he dipped his head between your thighs and pressed soft kisses against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, gently nipping at them before sticking out his tongue and slowly licking a long stripe of your pussy.

your body shuddered from the familiar yet forgotten feeling and you whimpered as your hands came down to cradle the back of Cameron’s head, your fingertips running over his buzzed hair and slightly grazing the stapled scar by his hairline.

Cameron groaned under his breath, though he didn’t know if it was coaxed out of him by your taste or touch, and his fingers slightly tightened against your thighs as he began eating your pussy like a man who hadn’t eaten in years, a small furrow forming between his eyebrows while he buried his face into your cunt.

your head fell back against the couch cushions and a high-pitched moan fell from your mouth as your eyes rolled back and your jaw went slack, a yelp erupting from you at feeling Cameron’s mouth lock around your clit.

“oh, fuuuck, baby— C-Cam!” you cried out, your eyebrows furrowing, as your back started to arch up from the couch but you suddenly felt his palm press into your stomach to hold you down, a whine falling from your mouth while one of your hands slid down to hold onto the back of Cameron’s neck, “uuugh, shiiiit! mmh, don’t s-stop!”

Cameron’s long fingers splayed across your stomach and kept you from running away as his other hand slid between your legs and he dragged his middle finger through your folds, collecting your arousal before he eased it inside of you.

“fuck!” a broken whimper fell from your mouth and your legs jerked as your head raised and you looked down at Cameron, pleasure displayed across your pretty face and mixing with a hint of bewilderment.

you had been so wound up for the past few months from Cameron’s “no sex or head” rule, but it seemed like you weren’t the only one affected by it. Cameron had always been skilled at eating pussy, but the way he was feasting on you today felt different — as if he was practically starving for another taste of you.

Cameron’s eyes found yours and you watched the corners of his mouth slightly lift in what you assumed to be a smirk, the sight of shock mixed with pure bliss in your expression telling him more than you even needed to.

pulling his mouth off of your clit, Cameron rolled and wiggled his tongue against it as he pushed his ring finger inside you and slightly scissored them to stretch you further open, eliciting a desperate mewl from you while you watch him torment you with his mouth and fingers.

“you gon’ cum for me, ma? hm?” Cameron murmured against your clit, flicking his tongue against it, as he slightly pulled back and spit on your clit before replacing his mouth with his thumb, rubbing it in quick circles while his fingers thrusted deeply inside you, “you gon’ let me taste how much you been missin’ me, pretty girl?”

“y-yes!” you whined, your head falling back for a second time, as you gasped sharply and your legs jerked again, your eyes rolling back and your eyebrows furrowing deeply while a small scrunch formed in the bridge of your nose, “ohhh, my G— C-Cameroooon! shiiiit, baby, i-i’m—”

“uh-huh, i know. i know, baby. keep soakin’ my fingers just like that. gimme’ all that good shit.”

“You’re squirmy.” He grumbles, glaring at you in the dark. “No one ever teach you to sit still?”

You stick your tongue out. “No one ever teach you to mind your own business?”

“Hard to mind my business when you’re movin’ all the cushions, doll-“

“Then go sit somewhere else, robot man.”

Bucky’s jaw twitches. “I’m not a robot.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m not-“

“You act like one.” You snap, and Bucky closes his eyes. Like he’s fucking praying.

“I was here first.” He mutters. You don’t balk.

“Congratulations.”

You hold his glare, and Bucky lets out a heavy breath through his nose. He narrows his eyes, tongue flicking over his lips. His full lips. Pretty and chapped, but in the perfect, soft way-

Get a fucking grip.

“There’s a chair over there.” You point across the room, sinking back into the cushions. “Go sit in it, if I’m so squirmy.”

Bucky scowls, and opens his mouth, but whatever jab he’s got for you, you don’t want to hear it. You reach over and unpause the movie—probably another one of Sam’s this is what you gotta catch up on, Barnes suggestions, because there’s no way Bucky picked out the Goonies himself—and fix your glower on the TV screen. You hate this movie. You’re going to watch it all the way through, just to show Bucky that he doesn’t bother you.

You spread your own legs wide, too. If men are allowed to do it, so are you. Bucky grunts as your knee pushes over his thigh, and you smirk at the TV.

It has nothing to do with the thick muscle you can feel under his sweatpants, that you keep your legs like that for the rest of the night. Bucky’s fingers flex a few times, and brush over the inner curve of your knee and the top of your thigh, like he’s thinking about just shoving you away. At one point, you hear him grunt, and look over with mockingly raised brows.

“Everything okay?” You almost simper, and he grunts and nods.

That’s all you get. Bucky fixes his anger on the movie, you win this round, and you get to be close to him without thinking about it.

You’ll think about it later. In the comfort of your own bedroom, you’ll think about it and think about it and think about it all night. You’ll think about it until your wrist hurts. But Bucky doesn’t get to know that.

As far as he needs to be concerned, you never spare him a second thought. It’s all he spares you. And you’re not going to be the pathetic girl who falls for someone who only thinks of her as a buzzing gnat around his head. Who worships the ground of a man who would step on her like a flower into concrete, not because he was seeking to hurt, but just because he didn’t notice you were there at all.

Although Bucky does seem to notice where you are.

The farmer does like to keep track of pests in his crops.

“You skipped the mission briefing.” Bucky grunts in the morning, glaring at you over a cup of coffee.

Something soft in you swells like a prodded bruise. He noticed where you were.

You ignore it in favor of flipping him off.

“I was busy.”

“Too busy for your job?”

“It’s not my job-“

“Your name was on the roster.” Bucky slams the folder down on the table, and your lips twitch.

“Have you been carrying that around all day?”

“That doesn’t matter-“

“Yes, it really does-“

Bucky hisses your name. There’s a fury under his tone, that makes your mouth snap shut. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You need to be there, Steve was talkin’ about safety shit, and if you don’t know it you could get killed-“

“I know how mission briefing work, I’ve been here longer than you have-“

“Really? ‘Cause you don’t act like it-“

“I don’t act like it?” You snort. “Last I checked I’m ranked higher than you, Sargent.” You raise your chin, letting your lips curl. “Which is why I’m allowed to defer missions, and you’re not.”

Bucky blinks, recoiling slightly. “Defer? What, you-“

“I’m skipping.” You shrug, grabbing an apple from the counter. “And if I’m skipping, I don’t need to be at the briefing. But thanks for checking on me, dad.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow. You expect him to snap something about experience and you not being responsible enough or needing to care more.

But instead his fists curl and uncurl at his side. His nostrils flare. He grabs the counter, his scowl burning right through you. You take a large bite of your apple, and his gaze darts down. Juice drips down your chin, and you wipe it off with light fingers. That only seems to make him angrier.

“Why’re you skipping.”

You shrug. You should say none of your business. But part of you is childish. A very big, loud part that wants him to react to something you know he isn’t actually going to care about.

“I have a date.”

“A what.” It’s not a full reaction. He’s mostly staring at you like he didn’t understand the word. Maybe they called it something different in the 40s.

“A date?” You roll your eyes, a little meaner than you mean to be. He always bring that out in you, though.

Bucky always brings everything out in you. It’s incredibly annoying.

“You know.” You push mockingly. “Where you go out with someone. And flirt like people, instead of robots.”

“Robots flirt.” Bucky grunts, and you snort.

“Yeah, but they don’t have sex-“

The counter cracks. It’s loud, echoing through the kitchen. You start and twitch, and Bucky blinks at his metal hand, like he’s just as surprised as you are. He looks back to you, shakes his head, and takes a large step back.

“What’s-“

“Steve’s callin’ me.” He mutters, and you blink.

“No, he’s not-“

“Have fun.” Bucky ignores you. His words sound pushed through his teeth. “On your human date.”

Then he’s gone.

And you’re left in the kitchen with your apple and a cracked counter, staring at where he’d vanished through the door. You don’t care about the date.

You just need to know what the fuck that was.

There’s a part of you that feels bad, for the man Natasha set you up with. She’d picked him out specifically because he had a vague resemblance to Bucky—because you’ve never told her your secret, but you didn’t need to, she’s Natasha—but it wasn’t enough.

He didn’t have the underlying accent, or the gleam in his eyes. You made a sharper edged joke, and he just laughed. He didn’t spar. He didn’t push your buttons in a way that made you light up. He just smiled at you all night—wrong smile, too—and then didn’t pay. Bucky would’ve paid.

You have no evidence of that. It’s just a feeling, that comes from how he still opens doors for you, even when you’re at each other’s throats. All polite and handsome and insufferable. You hate him.

And there’s not a single point during the night, where you’re not thinking about him.

“We should do this again.” The Date—you’ve forgotten his name, and it’s certainly not a good time to ask—says at the end of the night.

You’re shivering. Bucky would’ve offered you his jacket. He did once, on a mission in the Andes. You got all cold and he rolled his eyes and muttered that he told you to bring another layer, but still gave you his jacket all the same. This man is just grinning at you after not calling you a cab and saying he wanted to stand outside in the misty, chilly night. He said he wanted fresh air, and now your freezing, and he thinks he’s getting a second date.

At the very least, you feel a little less guilty about only thinking of Bucky and the mission the whole time. He deserved it.

“Sure.” You smile, because even with superstrength, it’s easier to tell a man yes and then vanish than it is to deny them to their face. “Have a good night.”

He tries to hug you. Your phone buzzes, and you duck away to check it.

The mission is over.

Two days early.

Your jaw tightens.

Most people would think that a job being done early is a good thing. That it means the team was just so focused and coordinated that they sped through every single step, and ended in a total victory. But you’ve been on this job too long. Early mission conclusions only ever happen for one reason.

Something went wrong, and they have to come back.

You rush back to the compound with barely a goodnight to the Date. It’s mostly because you forget, in the blur of worry. You’d skimmed the mission files before they left, just to make sure it wasn’t anything too dangerous. Bucky had been mad about you not going with them. Maybe he’d thought they’d need the hands, but it had just looked like a retrieval mission. Old Hydra facility with some data Tony wanted. Nothing too hard.

But they’re back early.

And if someone’s hurt, you could’ve stopped it. You could’ve been there, instead of on that stupid fucking date. Which also means that Bucky was right, and that’s incredibly annoying. He’s going to weild it over your head, and the mocking is going to turn you on more, and you’ll have earned it which isn’t going to help anything at all. 

You get back to the compound, and it’s not in lockdown. There aren’t med staff flooding the grounds or emergency sirens blaring. You go right to the hanger, and find that it’s already been cleared out. The jet isn’t being quarantined.

Maybe they really did just… Finish early.

You’re heading back to your room when you slam right into them.

Steve and Bucky, standing in the middle of the hall, arguing in hushed voices.

“You need to go, Buck-“

“I’m fine-“

“No, you’re not. You can lie to the docs, don’t lie to me-“

“I ain’t lyin’, I’m fine-“

Your too lost in your own head, barely even hearing what they’re saying. You barrel straight into Bucky’s back.

He goes rigid. You stumble a little, and he grabs your upper arm.

His hand is hot.

Not sexy hot—although it’s also that—but literally, physically hot. Almost searing, against your shivering skin. You look up at him, and swallow.

He’s flushed. There’s sweat clinging to his brow, and an exhausted shadow over his features. His eyes are so blown out they’re almost fully black. You blink at him, and his mouth falls open in a ragged pant.

“Hi.” You whisper.

His throat bobs. “You’re back.”

“I- I got the alert.” You glance over to Steve, who’s gone oddly pale. “Did the mission go okay? It was fine that I wasn’t there, right-“

“Yep!” Steve almost shouts, and you blink. “I mean- We were all good. Wish you were there, we all missed you, but- We were fine. Right, Buck?” Steve grabs Bucky’s shoulder. “We were all good.”

Bucky doesn’t look away from you for a single second. He grunts, and his grip tightens on your arm.

“Let go.” Steve mutters, and Bucky shoots him a glare.

He releases you like you burned him, then wipes his hand on his pants. You scowl. He was the one touching you.

“I was gonna.” He grumbles, and Steve sighs.

“I know, but-“ You get a weary look. Like Steve doesn’t want you to hear their conversation. “I think- You know what I think-“

“Steve-“ Bucky cuts himself off with a groan, running a hand over his face.

He still hasn’t looked away from you. Or moved that far out of your proximity.

“I’m fine.” He says, low and under his breath. You’re rooted to the ground under his gaze, unsure what you could even think of to say. “It’s- I’m fine.”

Steve’s lips press in a thin line. Bucky takes a large, jerking step back. Like he’s dragging himself away.

“How was your date?” He grunts.

“Bucky-“

“I’m just askin’ a question.” He snaps, still not sparing Steve a look.

The attention is getting to be too much. Bucky is looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, and it’s making your body almost buzz in anticipation. You want to jump on him and feel those hot hands all over your body. His nostrils flare like he can smell your arousal. If he can, you might jump off a bridge.

You hope he’d catch you, then fuck you until your can’t even walk.

Get a fucking grip.

“Bad.” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. “He sucked.”

And that’s the kind of thing Bucky would usually mock you for. Skipping a mission just for a bad date.

But a low, rumbling growl falls from his chest. His tongue darts over his lips. He takes a half-step forward, and you lean in to the gravity of his stare.

“We have debriefing!” Steve shouts, grabbing the collar of Bucky’s suit. “Bye!”

Before you can even register it, Steve’s dragging Bucky down the hall. You swear you hear another feral noise, and a crash after they turn the corner.

Something had to have happened on the mission. You just have no fucking clue what.

Bucky’s only been acting stranger. You’d pretend it didn’t bother you, if you could get away from it for a single fucking second.

You walk through the compound, and he’s somehow more everywhere than he was before. Around every corner, in the library, on the grounds, even in the control room while you’re going through the mission files.

“What’re you doin’.” He grunts, and you sigh.

You’re not surprised he’s there. It’s the fifth time today that he’s snuck up on you.

“I’m going through the reports on the mission.” You drawl. “Don’t you have better things to do than follow me around?”

Bucky grunts. It seems to be a no. You roll your eyes and go back to poking through the system. It’s hard to pretend that you can’t feel his presence behind you. There’s heat almost rolling from his body, and thick, spicy and musky scent that’s filling the room. It’s making you a little dizzy. It’s all you can do, not to look back at him.

That would be dangerous. He probably still looks feverish and animalistic. You might moan.

You find the files for the mission, and try to open them. Big, read access denied, contact your handler for permission to these files flashes over your screen. Your mouth falls open, and you whip back to glare at Bucky before you can think about it.

Mistake. Just like you’d thought, big mistake.

He looks even worse and better than you thought. He’s wearing just a t-shirt and sweats, and they’re clinging to his sweaty body. His eyes are hooded and his lips are parted. His attention is so wholly fixed on you that it almost makes you fall out of your chair. You almost forget you’re annoyed with him. Every single nerve in your body is alight, and your fingers are itching to comb through his sweaty hair.

You somehow—just barely—fight it.

“Why can’t I access these files.”

Bucky leans over you, his nostrils flaring. If you reach up, you could trace the stubbled line of his jaw. It’s hard to maintain your glare.

“Barnes-“

“You weren’t on the mission.” He mutters. “Not your files to see.”

You scowl. “I can access the files of every other mission I was on-“

“Steve should change that.”

God, you wish he wasn’t so pretty. It would be easier to think about punching him.

“I know something happened out there.” You hiss, sitting up a little taller. “You can’t hide it from me. I’ll figure it out.”

Bucky chuckles. It’s a low, raspy sound that runs through your body, making you shiver.

“Sure, doll. Have fun with that.”

You shoot to your feet, and Bucky lurches back. Another one of those deep, rumbling growls rolls from his chest, and for a second you think he’s going to pounce on you.

And then you blink, and he’s gone. Leaving you with only that hazy smell, and desire rolling through your veins.

You wish that was the extent of it, but it’s barely the start. And it only gets worse.

Bucky doesn’t do his movie nights anymore, which means you get the TV all to yourself. You watch what you want, and try not to look at the spot next to you. Where your body feels like he’s supposed to be. You stretch out your legs, but they ache strangely without his touch. You get more restless without him. Around midnight, you shuffle to the kitchen, hoping one of those soothingherb thingys that Wanda says help with her nightmares will be there.

Instead, you find Bucky. 

He’s drinking a glass of ice, with a little bit of water. He freezes when he sees you, and moves further behind the counter.

You sigh. You’re too tired to fight him.

“Can’t sleep?” You mumble.

He just nods.

You sigh, and walk over the cupboard.

“You want hot chocolate?”

A grunt. Better than silence. You make two mugs, one for you, one for Bucky.

And maybe it’s just that you’re really starting to worry, but you don’t bother pretending to hate him. Your fingers brush when you pass him his mug, and his body seizes like you shocked him, but you just offer a tiny smile.

His mouth falls open. He stares at you like he’s spent years only looking at the muddier reflection of stars in the water, and has finally thought just to tilt his head up. You let out a small, shaking breath. He’s still burning up. You can feel it from your place a foot away. But you don’t dare to push it.

Not when he’s looking at you like this. The way you’d always, secretly and shamefully, dreamed he would.

“I’m watching Star Wars.” You mumble. “You wanna…”

You trail off, and Bucky’s throat bobs.

He nods again. A new tendril of worry blooms, overlapping with the growing tangle of them in your gut. He might not be able to speak.

But he follows you to the living area, and takes his place on the couch. His knee pushes against yours. He’s breathing awfully shallow, but you’re a selfish coward that wants him close, so you don’t mention it.

You barely pay attention to the movie. All you can focus on is Bucky at your side. How he doesn’t even seem to be sparing the TV a glance. He’s not really touching you, save for that place where your thighs are always pushed together, but every time you shift he grabs your knee. You blink at him, and his throat just bobs. He still hasn’t said a word. You’re afraid that when he does, it will break this fragile illusion.

That he wants to be here.

Near you.

He passes out near the end of the movie. His head falls against your shoulder and his body goes limp, almost a blanket over yours. You don’t move, just staring at a lit up, black screen. He looks more peaceful than you’ve ever seen. His fever isn’t breaking, but it does seem to be easing. You run your fingers through his hair, and he makes a low sound like a purr.

Then he takes a deep inhale, right against the crook of your neck, and a different noise leaves him.

It’s almost a moan.

You swallow. Suddenly you need to move. You don’t know what’s going on with him, but this can’t be what he actually wants. To be asleep almost in your arms, purring and moaning. That’s not a part of him you get to have.

But when you try to move, his grip around you tightens.

You feel almost sick.

It takes almost an hour, to roll off the couch without him pulling you back. When you’re free, you still cover him in a blanket and press a hand to his brow. Just to check. You can’t really help it.

His fever is building again.

You wish he would just tell you what was wrong. Even if he thinks you hate him, he can’t think you wouldn’t care enough to help.

When you start to walk away, he moans again. You could swear it sounded a little like your name.

You force yourself to go to bed. You’re not sure if you want him to remember in the morning.

If anything, you just pray he gets better. It’s hard to hide your undying care for him, when he’s in pain. Impossible to ignore how much it bothers you, that he’s hurting. ‘

But it is Bucky.

And he’s never going to make anything that easy.

You walk out of your room in the morning, and he’s right there. Lingering in the hallway, staring at you with those blown-out eyes, working his jaw like he’s trying to bite his own tongue off.

“Hi.” You say lamely.

He stumbles back like you punched him. “You- You’re-“

“Bucky, are you-“

“’M fine.” He says it mostly to himself again. There’s sweat gathering on his brow and bags under his eyes.

You’re not going to tell him, but you’re getting worried. This is the third morning in a row you’ve found him here. The first night you asked if he’d slept there, and he’d scowled and stomped away.

But from the look of him, you don’t think he’s been sleeping at all.

“Do you need something?” You ask. You sound soft, but you can’t help it. The worse he looks, the more your heart tightens. “I can call Steve-“

“Don’t get Steve.” He steps back. The same jerked movement from the first night. It’s the only way he’s been moving around you, lately. “I’m fine.”

You give him a doubtful look. His tongue flicks over his lips. You take a step forward, and he takes another step back. Like you’ve got a polarity field around you. Like he can’t even stand to breathe the same air.

And yet he’s here. Outside your door, and breathing through his mouth like an animal.

“Bucky-“

“Don’t.” He shakes his head, stumbling another step back. “Just- Don’t.”

You swallow, and don’t give chase when he walks away. Jogs away. He yanks himself away, then runs like he thinks you’re going to catch him and drag him back. You won’t.

But you do go right to Steve.

“What happened on the mission.”

Steve flinches, gagging on his sandwich. You’re glaring down at him with your hands on your hips, and you think he knows his little charming smile isn’t going to work on you here. That doesn’t seem to stop him from trying anyway.

“Hey, um- Do you want a cookie-“

“Steven.” You hiss, and he swallows. “What happened.”

Steve winces, avoiding your gaze. “I’m not supposed to tell you.”’

“What do you mean you’re not supposed to tell me-“

“I mean I- I can.” He mutters. “But then Bucky will kill me. And I don’t want Bucky to kill me.”

You scowl. “Tough shit, because guess who’s going to kill you if you don’t tell me?”

Steve sighs. “Is it you?”

“Yep.”

He stares at his sandwich, like it’s somehow going to get him out of this situation. You wait for him to realize it won’t. You have plenty of time.

“I’m really not supposed to tell you-“

“I really don’t care.”

“Well- You will.” Steve looks up with a sad little puppy eyes.

You don’t have the same reservations about punching him in the face, that you have with Bucky. He’s basically asking for it right now.

“Steven, I swear to fucking God-“

“I can’t tell you.” He cuts you off with a shake of his head, and you scoff.

“No, you just won’t tell me-“

“That’s not- I can’t, okay? Please stop asking me to-“

“Why, because Bucky doesn’t want you to?” You leer. “Because last I checked, you’re the Captain. And if Bucky is your friend, you should be telling his teammates he’s in danger so they can help-“

“That’s the problem!” Steve shouts, and you blink. “You- Look, you’re going to want to help, and I can’t let you.”

“You can’t let me help?” You echo, and Steve winces.

“I know how it sounds-“

“Do you? Because what I’m fucking hearing that your best friend is in danger, and you won’t let me fucking help-“

“Why do you even want to help?” Steve fixes you with a pointed look. “All you ever do is complain about Bucky and how he’s annoying you. I would’ve thought you didn’t care.”

You narrow your eyes, and Steve raises his brows. You know what he’s doing. Smug fucking asshole. 

“That won’t work on me.” You grunt, and he shrugs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Steve-“

“But,” he says causally. “If I did, I’d say that’s why I can’t tell you. And you know that.”

You hate it when he speaks in riddles. Like you’re just supposed to read between the lines when your brain is fogged with worry about Bucky.

“I- I don’t-“ You let out a slow breath, looking down to your shoes. Heat is flooding your cheeks. It’s annoying. “It’s not- I’m just- Please.”

Your voice cracks suddenly. You’ve been losing more sleep over this than you’re ever going to tell anyone. You almost feel ill with it—like the worry is an infection, knotting up your stomach and making your heart pick up—but that might just literal exhaustion. Something happened. No one will tell you what. It’s making you feel useless and hopeless and torn up to tiny, useless shreds.

“Bucky.” You say slowly. “Is- He’s not okay. I know he’s not okay.” You force yourself to meet Steve’s gaze. “Just- Lie to me and say he’s fine, and fix it, or tell me and let me help. But I- I can’t just-“

You don’t even know how to finish the sentence. There’s a burning feeling behind your eyes and a lump in your throat. You’re so worried. Worried this is something that’s going to kill him, and you’re going to lose him forever.

And there’s pity, in Steve’s gaze. It’s enough to make him break, his voice softening completely.

“Alright.” He murmurs. “But- You can’t tell him I told you.”

You nod quickly. “I’ll say I just got into the files, or- Something- Please.”

Steve sighs. “Okay. Okay.” He shakes his head. “It was on the mission. Bucky was distracted the whole time, and when we got jumped he wasn’t being controlled with his punches. He swag to hard on an Hydra agent. Knocked them back into some vials, and- Well they burst. All over both of them. We put the agent in containment, but he was displaying worse symptoms. Bucky- I think it’s the serum, or just… Bucky. But he’s been controlling it better.” Steve grimaces. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not still knocked up with stuff.”

You nod slowly. That’s not that bad.

But Steve didn’t want you to know for a reason.

“What are the symptoms?”

Steve won’t meet your gaze. “Fever. Nausea. Hormone flares. Um- Increased… libido.”

Your eyes widen, your mouth falling open. “What.”

“Hydra makes some weird stuff. Tony thinks this was, um- A breeding drug. We don’t know why they were developing it, but- There’s no other name.” Steve’s nose wrinkles. “The agent- His cell is disgusting.”

“But- Bucky-“

“I told you, he says he’s got it under control.” Steve shrugs, but doesn’t really sound like he’s convinced himself. “The agent has been, ah… begging for anyone. Bucky doesn’t have the same liberty with what will help. He says it’s going to pass, and he’ll be fine.”

“And will it?” You breathe. “Pass?”

Steve shrugs. “It did for the agent.”

“Before or after the mating?”

Steve’s silence is an answer. You swear under your breath.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me this, Steve? We- We need to get him to someone, this could fucking kill him-“

“I know that!” Steve snaps. “I know that just as well as you do! As he does! But- Jesus.” He shakes his head. “He won’t take anyone. He’ll only- Well- You know.”

“I know? I don’t fucking know, none of you have been telling me shit-“

Steve says your name plainly. You blink.

“What-“

“Nothing. Just- Why do you think he’s been lingering around you?”

You stare at him. He raises his brows, and you swallow.

“Steve-“

“I didn’t say anything-“

“Yes, you did-“

“Nope.”

You press your lips in a tight line. He can’t mean what you think he means. That would be to easy. Too good. “Bucky- He doesn’t- That’s not how he feels about me.”

Please don’t say it is. It’s not fair if you’re lying.

“Funny.” Steve shrugs. “He says the same thing about you.”

This is a bad idea.

Bucky hasn’t left his room in a day. You’d spent all of last night replaying your conversation with Steve, trying to pick it apart for a single reason he didn’t mean what you thought he did. What you hoped he did. What you’d always hoped for, only in the dead of night where no one would ever find out.

But it didn’t matter how you turned or picked at Steve’s words. There was only one conclusion. The beautiful, horrible one that you can’t even fully wrap your head around. It would mean you spent years hating him for no reason. Year thinking about kissing his stupid face, when you could’ve been actually kissing him. If Steve’s right, you’re going to kill Bucky.

After you fix this for him.

If Steve means what you think, you can fix this for him. He just has to let you.

Which is why this is a horrible idea. If Bucky turns you down, you’re going to have to quit your job and change your name and  move to Indonesia.

But if he doesn’t turn you down…

You steel yourself and knock on Bucky’s door. It’s worth the risk, just for him. Always just for him.

“Fuck off, Stevie-“

“I’m not Steve!” You call, and for a second there’s no response. 

Then there’s a muffled banging, and you almost fall forward when Bucky yanks the door open.

He looks even worse than before. And better. And hotter, and oh God, your knees are already weak.

His shirt is gone, and his broad, muscled chest is shining with sweat. His hair flops over his eyes, mussed up and soft looking. He’s breathing through his nose, even as his swollen mouth hangs open. His metal fist is curled against the door, making the wood crack under his fingers. Standing through his sweatpants is the long, proud outline of his cock.

You swallow, your mouth watering. Bucky says your name, and you can’t tell if it’s supposed to be a plea or a prayer.

“You shouldn’t be here-“

“Steve said you need me.”

You stare at each other. Bucky’s tongue flicks out, and you chew on your lower lip. This is it. If he turns you down, you’ll walk away and live. A new life, across the world. You’ve never been to Indonesia, but you hear they have good food and community, and you’re sure you’ll be able to fit right in over time, and if you don’t at least Bucky will never find you to make you relive this humiliation, because it’s been almost two full minutes and he hasn’t said anything, so you should probably pull out your phone and start researching Indonesian names-

“Steve shouldn’t have told you anything.” Bucky growls, and you swallow.

“I- I made him.”

He sighs. You could swear his dick twitches. “Of course you did.”

“I was worried about you-“

“You don’t have to be, doll. I’m-“

“If you say I’m fine, I’m going to fucking punch you.”

Bucky scowls. You scowl harder. You have a feeling neither of you are going to back down.

“You’re sick.” You say plainly, and Bucky lets out a sharp exhale through his nose.

“Maybe. But it’s not the kinda sick you can help with-“

“Steve says it’s the kind of sick only I can help with.”

He’s silent again. You risk a tiny step forward, and he takes one back, muttering your name. It’s a warning. A plea.

“Don’t do this.” He mutters, fists balled at his side. “Not outta pity, not for me-“

“It’s not pity.” You stop in his doorway, making your voice soft. “I want to help, Bucky. Let me help.”

He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “No, you- You just- You don’t feel like that for me-“

“You don’t feel like that for me.” You breathe, and Bucky’s body locks up.

“Who says?”

“You’re an ass to me-“

“You’re an ass to me.”

“I don’t mean to be.” You whisper. “I- I don’t- I’m not good at… You know.”

Bucky’s throat bobs. He still doesn’t move.

“Me neither.”

You nod. “But…”

“Yeah.” He swallows. “Yeah. I do.”

You take a deep breath. His whole room is filled with that musky, spicy smell. The heat is almost rolling off his body.

“Please ask me to help.” You don’t bother to hide the desperation in your voice. He needs to know that you mean it. “I- I want to, Bucky, I want you so bad-“

Bucky muffles your pleas, crashing forward and pressing his mouth over yours.

It’s not the soft, loving kiss of your fantasies. It’s rough and desperate, the kiss of a man finally letting his leash snap. He grabs your neck and scrunches his fingers in your hair, dragging a moan from the back of your throat. It turns into a hungry cry, when he pushes his tongue between your lips. Your knees wobble from the bruising force of it. You grab his shirt for balance, scrunching the fabric between your fingers.

Bucky grunts, pressing further over you. One arm drops to wrap around your waist, and the other slide up to cradle the back of your head. The touch his shockingly gentle, for the demanding way he’s almost eating your kisses. You’re standing nowhere near a wall, but he’s caged you all the same. There’s nothing to do but feel the way his cool, metal fingers dig into your hips, and the unrelenting heat of his mouth.

You kiss until your breathing is ragged. He tastes like mint and salt, and it’s a little addictive. Even after you’re light-headed and whimpering, Bucky sucks on your lower lip and takes just a little more. You whimper, gasping for air that he doesn’t seem to need. He tugs on your hair, forcing you to tip your neck back, and he plants open, hungry kisses over every place he can reach.

“You gotta be sure.” He murmurs against your skin. “Tell me you’re sure, doll, ‘cause- I don’t think I can go easy.”

And oh God, isn’t that lovey thought. Bucky not going easy. Combined with his tongue flicking over a pulse point, you almost fall over from the pure thought of it.

But he’s asking real permission. His hold on your hip is getting tighter, and his shoulders are squared and tense. He’s keeping himself from taking what he really wants, until you give him total permission.

You didn’t know you could want him more.

“I- Oh-“ Your eyes flutter, as he nips on sensitive skin under your jaw before kissing away the hurt. “I’m sure, Bucky, I- I don’t want you to go easy.”

For some reason, that only makes him more tense. He takes an uneven breath, pressing his brow against your head and almost pulling you off your feet as he hugs you tighter. You wait, slowly wrapping your arms around him and dragging your nails soothingly over the nape of his neck.

Bucky draws himself back, his expression unreadable as he scans over your face. You offer him a tiny, nervous smile, and he lets out a shaky laugh.

“You- You got no idea, do you?”

Your face falls to a pout. “I have a lot of ideas-“

“No, you don’t.” He drops his brow over yours. “You got no fuckin’ clue, what you do to me.”

And your brain stalls. It gets all gooey and soft, as you just blink up at him. You’re already on unsteady legs. You never thought he’d catch you if you fell, but with the way Bucky’s looking at you right now, you think he’d dive off a cliff to be at your side.

“Bucky…” You breathe, and he drops his forehead against yours. Your noses bump. His gaze darts between your lips and eyes, and you think you might be burning alive.

“You smell so good.” He mutters, before leaning down to press a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You-“ You almost whimper, when he pulls away. “You imagined?”

He chuckles, kissing just your upper lip. You’re already putty under his hands, and you might turn to just a steam of desire if he doesn’t stop kissing you so softly.

“Didn’t you?”

You nod, and Bucky’s lips twitch.

“Bet I imagined more.”

And you doubt that, but Bucky’s kissing you again before you can tell him that you imagined so much it scared you sometimes. The way you were sure that you’d never be able to recover, from an addiction to a drug you’d never even taken.

You’re certainly never going to recover now. Kissing Bucky is even better than you’d let yourself dream about. His lips are just as soft as you thought. Even with the way he’s holding himself back, his touch is possessive. He traces your sides like he’s trying to memorize them, and kisses you the same way.

“Got no idea what I’m gonna do to, either.” He rasps against your lips. “If you let me, doll… You shouldn’t- But-“ He groans, pushing his nose into your cheek, kissing over the slope of your jaw. “Fuck, I want you to.”

You want him to. You want to feel those sloppy, devout kisses everywhere, to get that infernal tongue between your legs. His cock is almost bursting through his sweats, protruding into your thigh. He’d be heavy on your tongue, and split you better than the toys that you’ve used in his place before. The ache in your core throbs from just the idea, and you can feel your heart trying to burst all out of your throat with confession of desire and adoration. But you’re not sure if he’s going to believe them.

“Tell me.” You whisper. “Tell me what you’ve dreamed about doing to me.”

Bucky pulls back, and you worry you’ve stepped on an invisible landmine. That you’re going to be shoved out of the room, the door slammed in your face instead of behind you, locking you out of the room you’ve longer to be in since you met him. Bucky stares at you. You open your mouth to apologize and take it back, but he loves to move faster than your lustdrunk mind can understand.

You squeal as he walks you backward, but not out of the room. He kicks his door shut as you pass it. It slams, right as Bucky pins you between against the wall. He kisses you before you can protest or ask questions, and keeps going until you’re squirming against him and unsure if you should pull him closer or push him away. His kisses wander your cheeks, over your nose and hairline and back down to your ear.

“I wanted you just like this.” He chokes out, and your swallow. He sounds wrecked, and you’re not even kissing anymore. “Wanted you everywhere. Would see you in a meetin’ and think about bending you over the table. You’d get under me on the training mats and I’d wanna get in a headlock between your legs. Bet you taste so good.”

He shudders, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His dick has shifted to push right near your core, and it’s almost too much pressure, while not being nearly enough.

“Would sit next to you on the plane and think about gettin’ on my knees.” He rasps, beard ticking against your skin. “Worshipping your pussy like it deserves. Makin’ you- Fuck- Call my name-“

Bucky moans, his hips jerking forward. A tiny moan escapes your lips, and Bucky almost whines and does it again. You don’t think he can help it.

“Wanted to stuff your pretty little lips with my cock.” He thrusts again, his whole weight almost collapses over your body. “You’d get all mouthy and I- I jerk off to the idea of puttin’ you over my knee or gettin’ you lying in my bed. I’d- I’d fuck you so nice, doll, I swear I’d be good, but- Fuuuck-“

He’s rutting between your thighs, and seems to forget the story he’s supposed to be telling you in favor of sucking on your neck. You whimper, pushing your hand between your bodies. Not to stop him—never to stop him—but to wrap your fingers around his cock through his sweats.

Bucky moans, his voice breaking with raw, starved relief. You try to pull him back to kiss him, but he just wraps closer around you. He’s almost shaking. You think he’s trying not to fuck your hand.

You can’t have that.

“It’s okay.” You drag your fingers over the line of his cock, and he whimpers against your neck. “I- I’ve thought about it too.”

Bucky slams forward, and you smile at the air.

“Wanted you to shove me down and fuck me stupid. Wanted to ride you until I passed out. I bought a dildo, baby, just to pretend it was you.”

You use your free hand to pet the back of his head, slowly sliding his sweats down to give yourself better access. Bucky’s thick and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping fully around, and whenever your nails graze his balls, he bucks forward with a strangled moan.

“Wasn’t as big.” You breathe, stroking his dick in long, tight motion. “You’re so big, Bucky, I don’t think it’s gonna fit.”

He grunts, his teeth grazing your neck. “Gonna- Fuck-“

You squeeze him at the base, and he doubles over. He’s almost fully collapsed against you. You want to feel him come apart.

“Gonna make it fit.” He hisses in your ear, and you hum.

“How?”

“Open you up.” He mutters, words slurred like he’s drunk. “Get you all over me, doll- Wanna watch you cum over and over and- God-“

His dick is twitching, and you giggle. He’s working himself up.

“You think this is funny?” He rasps.

You smile, swiping your thumb over the weeping slit of his dick. “A little. You wanna make me cum but you won’t even touch me.”

He makes an annoyed sound, and tries to push off of you. You tug his cock a little harder, and he falls back over with a moan. You giggle again.

“You- You’re a fuckin’ brat-“

“I’m helping you, Barnes.” You whisper in his ear.

He chuckles, and the sound rolls through your body. “Helpin’ me would be sitting on my face- Fuck-“

Bucky’s whole body shakes, when you squeeze him one last time, and his control slip. You pet him through his orgasm, unsure if you want him to notice how you press your legs tighter to try and get more stains of his cum. He pants and groans against your skin, his lips latching back around that one bruise he seems to be obsessed with.

There’s so much cum. Bucky grinds into your fist, and it just keeps coming and coming and coming until your fingers are sticky and drenched. The idea of him doing that inside you is almost a little terrifying. You’ve never wanted anything more.

A choked sound like your name comes out, muffled against your skin. You smile, leaning back to try and meet his gaze.

Bucky seems to need a second. You hope you didn’t already wear him out.

“You okay?” You whisper, and he tenses.

Bucky pulls back, and your pulse picks up into a drum.

Whatever he’d been before, it had been tame compared to this. His jaw is clenched, his attention fixed on you like a predator. His chest heaves, his hands limp at his side. You swallow, feeling a lot smaller than you did a second ago.

You can’t stop yourself from looking down. It only makes things worse.

He’s bigger than he felt. His cum is dripping down his thigh, and it’s barely been a minute, but he’s already getting hard again. You drag your eyes up the expanse of his chest—all flushed skin and muscle—and realize he hasn’t stopped staring at you. You lick your lips. He mimics the movement.

“It won’t fit.” You says again, but your tone has lost all the teasing mockery of before.

And Bucky’s smirk is dangerous. A thrill rushes through you at the sight of it. You’ve gotten exactly what you wanted.

“Gonna make it fit.” He growls.

You yelp, as he grabs your wrist and yanks you forward. You don’t even slam into his chest before he’s lifting you off the ground with another mind numbing kiss. It’s a distraction. You know that. You don’t really care, though, returning it in a second.

Bucky carries you like you’re a doll, your knees bent like some princess and his warmer arm locked around your waist. He leans over, lowering you to the mattress with a shocking care. For a second you’re fully lost in him. The gentle motion of his lips over yours, the way his hands wander and map your body as he settles you into the mattress.

“So soft.” He mutters. “All that bite, doll, but I knew you’d be so fuckin’ soft for me.”

You’d like to protest, and say that you’re not soft. But Bucky’s kisses are making your head spin, and no single, clear word can make it out of the daze. All you manage is a high, long whine.

Bucky chuckles. His hand pushes under your shirt, almost tickling over your sides.

“You like that?” He tease, his knuckles tracing over the underside of your boobs. “You like bein’ my sweet girl?”

You are not sweet. You try to snap that, but it mostly just comes out a feral grumble. You don’t know how he’s the one with a sound mind right now. You’re not under a sex drug.

You’re just under Bucky. Where it’s very, very warm, and sticky, and nice. His cum is dripping over your clothed core and midriff. You shiver as it hits bare skin, and Bucky smirks against your lips.

“Say it and I give you more.” He rasps. “Say you like it.”

And it’s a game. You know that you like it. He does too. But he’s poking and teasing you, trying to get you spar with him. To get you to play.

So you glare at him when he leans back, spreading your legs wider at the same time. You keep your mouth stubbornly shut.

Bucky grins. He traces the curve of your hips with massive hands, his thumb angling to smear his cum over your navel.

“Look at you.” He mocks. “Beggin’ for me and then can’t even admit she likes it.”

You wrinkle your nose, turning up your chin. Bucky smacks your inner thigh, then rubs his metal palm right over your pussy. The sudden sting then harsh pleasure make your hips push off the bed with a cry. Bucky takes his hand away to splay it on your abdomen, shoving you back down.

“You like gettin’ tossed around, too?” He laughs, and heat floods right to your core. “I’ll toss you around, baby. Make you into a nice little cockslut for me, even let you put my in that pretty mouth.”

He grabs your jaw, and you part your lips in a second. Bucky groans, his cock getting impossibly harder.

“Already listen so well.” He mutters, teasing his two forefingers over your mouth. “Just can admit you fuckin’ love it, do you? Can’t be a good girl and tell the truth.”

You narrow your eyes in defiance, and pretend to bite down on his fingers. It’s not a real bite. Just teeth grazing knuckles. But Bucky understands what it means.

Permission to go further.

His eyes gleam. His cock is already leaking with pre-cum.

“Alright, babydoll.” He rubs your thighs, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. “Have it your way.”

In a single second, Bucky rips off your clothing like it’s paper. You barely have time to feel the cold of the air before he’s grabbing your waist, flipping you onto your stomach, and dragging your ass up in the air. You yelp, fisting your hands in the sheets, and try to twist and see where he is.

A dazed part of your brain that doesn’t remember his hands on your hips sees no one behind you, and almost freaks out.

Then the first stroke of Bucky’s tongue hits your pussy, and you collapse fully into the sheets.

“Oh my-“ Your eyes roll back, as he teases the very tip of his tongue around your clit before dragging it through your folds. “Oh my God-“

“Sensitive fuckin’ pussy.” Bucky muses, and you feel the stubble of his cheek pressing against you thigh. “Barely even touching it. Wonder if I-“

 His thumb drags circles just around your clit, and you squeak. He kisses the curve of your ass, going a little fast. You whine trying to drag your own ass in circles to match his motions. You can’t see him. Can’t know if you’re doing well outside of his lips tracing your thigh, and the pleased hums against your skin.

Bucky jerks his thumb suddenly to the side, pushing directly over your clit. You scream, your knees sliding back. Bucky grabs them and pushes them back up, fully exposing your pussy to the air.

“Look at you.” His breath is warm, over that most sensitive spot. “Bet I don’t even need to fuckin’ prep you. You’re so wet, you’d just…”

He makes a deep, rumbling sound, and you almost sob as he drags his tongue right back between your puffed pussy lips. You clench around nothing, his stubbled scraping your clit. Bucky angles his face, letting his tongue flick over your clit. It goes back and forth and back and forth, toying with it before pressing flat. He sucks, hard like a lollipop, and you almost sob into the mattress.

“Sweet.” Bucky whispers, his metal arm wrapping around your legs. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

“Bu- Bucky-“

“Shhh.” He kisses right over your pussy. “Wanna taste, pretty girl. I gotta fuckin’-“ He moans, and the vibration shoots right up your spine. “Gotta taste-“

Bucky presses his face fully into your cunt, and the sound that leaves you almost isn’t human.

He’s good at this. So good at this. It’s a little unfair. Your mouth can’t do anything but hang uselessly open, as Bucky works his jaw against you. He eats you like he’s starved for it. Like he’s a man that wants to drown of an insatiable thirst.

Two hands hold you up in the air, as his tongue plunges ruthlessly in and out of your cunt. You keen, trying to push further back, and the warmer hand wraps up to your spine and shoves your stomach down. It’s a tighter fit like this. Bucky drags his tongue around, and it hits every sensitive area. His beard tickles and scratches, and cold fingers tease your skin.

You get more and more sensitive, with every flick and suck and groan. You’re so wet it’s almost drooling down your legs, mixing with the stains of cum he’d gathered from your midriff and smeared over your legs. The dual heat with his cold hand makes all your nerves stand on end. You pussy clenches again, and Bucky chuckles.

“That’s right.” He mutters, making out with your clit as you gasp for air into the bed. “That’s it, baby, you’re already lettin’ go, aren’t you.”

You whine, and Bucky nips at your ass.

“Aren’t you?”

“Ye- Yes.” You mumble. “’S good, Bucky- So good-“

“I know.” He grunts, pressing his cold, metal thumb down into your clit. “Fuck, baby, I know.”

You whimper, and Bucky starts up on your dripping pussy again. He’s lapping at it, pushing his tongue into your tight hole as he plays with your clit, and white lines your vision.

“I- I’m gonna- Fuck- Bucky-“ You scratch at the sheets. “I’m gonna- Oh God-“

He smacks your clit, spits onto your pussy, and resumes with double the effort. You cry his name, as your orgasm wracks your body. You can feel yourself seizing around him, twitching and writhing in his tight grip as your vision lines with white.

And Bucky doesn’t stop. You’re making a mess all over his face, and he’s rising up, but it’s just pushing you further into the mattress. You whimper, your cunt too sensitive, but he doesn’t even come up for air.

“Shit- Bucky- Oh- Ohhhhh-“

The ache quickly fades into pleasure again. Blinging pleasure that’s just on the wrong side of too much, but pleasure all the same. You squeal, and Bucky just moans against your cunt.

Then you hear it. The slam of his fist against his cock.

He’s jerking off while he eats you out.  He’s fucking himself so hard you can hear it, hear the slap of skin, feel all his little moans and grunts right against your pussy, and the thought sends you right over the edge again.

Bucky moans louder, as you cum on his tongue. Just like before, it seems to make him more and more feral. You have a feeling what lucidity that let him tease you before is gone. He’s eating you out the same way he’s kissed you, with rough lips and a fervor that’s almost animalistic. You’re boneless and whimpering into the sheets, taking it over and over as Bucky just keeps working his mouth against your cunt, and fucking his hand.

Then, suddenly, he’s gone. You whine from the lose, trying to roll over and look at him, but he just shoves you back down with a growl. The sound of his hand is getting faster and faster, and a hot weight drops over your back. Bucky presses his face into your neck, and takes a deep breath. You whimper, and he groans. His hips must be rocking, with how the bed is shaking.

“Smells good.” He rasps. “Gonna- Fuck-“

Bucky snaps back up, and you feel him cum more than you even hear it. Hot ropes spurt over your ass and back, seeping down the back off your thighs and into your pussy. You moan at the sensation, pushing back on trembling hands. There’s always just more of it, until you’re so marked up with him you’re sure you’ll never be able to wash it off.

You don’t want to.

With how Bucky grabs your hips and spreads the stain over your skin, you don’t think he does either.

“Shit.” He breathes out, and you hum in agreement. “Gotta- Flip for me, c’mon-“

Bucky helps you roll over. His touches are gentle again, but the gleam in his eyes hasn’t faded. You blink at him, flat on your back with your legs spread. Bucky traces the lips of your cunt, then slowly pushes two fingers inside you. Fucking his cum back into your tight hole. You mewl, eyes fluttering. Your head tosses back, and Bucky smiles

“Good girl.” He coos.

You try not get all gooey and weak just from the praise. Bucky laughs, and you think you might’ve failed.

“Strangling my fingers, doll.” He teases, pulling them right out.

You whimper. You’re too wet and ready not to take something. It’s really not fair to make you wait.

“I know.” He kisses your brow, voice rough. “Trust me, I fuckin’ know. You just gotta tell me you like it, then-“ His cock drags between your folds, and you keen. “All yours.”

You blink at him, opening your mouth to comply.

But you’re at an advantage.

Bucky’s hard again. His body is wound so tight above you, and his every word is thick. Like it’s an effort to speak. He’s still trying to fight against the drug running through his veins.

You want him to give in.

So you close your mouth, and give him a defiant glare.

Bucky growls again, and there’s no more teasing.

His mouth pushes over yours, and it’s not a loving kiss. It’s rough and quick, stealing your breath in seconds and distracting you as Bucky grabs your knees and shoves them back. You try to chase his lips, when he pulls away, but he shoves you back down with a grunt.

“Wanna be a brat.” He grunts. “Gonna get fucked like a brat.”

You almost beam. Yes, please.

Bucky folds you under him, your knees pressed to your chest and your cum-stained pussy on full display. He doesn’t waste time, tapping the head of his cock against your clit before slamming right inside. You’re so soaked you take it with only a hitched breath, but that doesn’t mean your eyes don’t roll back.

He hits right against you pelvis, when he bottoms out. His heavy balls sit on your ass, and the stretch of him is just enough pain to heighten the pleasure. Bucky kisses all over your face as he lets you adjust, but your pussy is greedy. He’d prepared you too well. You’re more than ready within seconds.

“Bu- Bucky-“ You gaps out, and he growls against your neck. “Move.”

If he’d told you to wait, you wouldn’t have been surprised.

But the drug seems to have overtaken him again, and all you get is a noise like a snarl against your throat before Bucky draws almost all the way out, and slams back in.

The air is knocked clean from your lungs. This time, he hit right against your g-spot, and your whole body seizes up. Bucky makes a low, deep noise, and repeats the motion. Again, he drives right into that gooey spot deep inside of you. You clench around him, and he doubles over, rutting deep inside of you.

“The- There-“ You whimper, fingers scrambling in the sheets. “Fuck, baby, right there-“

Bucky grunts an agreement, and starts to fuck you into the mattress. The angle is so deep you’re worried he’s going to permanently rearrange your guts. Every slam of his cock into your makes you see heaven, and Bucky pants over your, his eyes locked onto yours as your face contorts with pleasure.

He’s not even fucking you like a brat. He’s fucking you like a doll. He grabs at your limbs and moves them below him like you’re just a sleeve for his dick, and he needs you into just the right spot. One hand fists in your hair, forcing your neck a little up so you can watching your arousal gleam on his cock every time he pulls out. He moans every time he pushes back in, and you watch your cunt swallow his dick whole. A wet, smacking sound filling the room as he drills into you. He bends you even further to kiss over your neck and breasts, his tongue dragging in rhythm with his dick.

You try to clench around him every time he bottoms out, but your head is sort of empty, and now you’re just a drooling pussy around his massive cock, moaning his name and happily milking every bit of pleasure.

“Oh- Oooooh-“ You mewl, smiling like a cockdrunk idiot at the air. “Buuuucky-“

His mouth presses back over yours, and the kiss is strangely soft. His fucking hasn’t slowed or relented, but there’s a care with how his lips move over yours that makes you feel worshipped.

That’s what he’d said he’d do. Worship you. And you can really feel it here.

Bucky draws back, and the hand that had been fisted in your hair moves to your jaw. He squeezes again. You open for him easily, and his lips twitch.

“Good girl.” He coos, even if the words are tighter than before.

He spits into your mouth. You swallow obediantly, and open again when he squeezes your cheeks. Bucky slams forward with a groan, looking like a man wrecked.

“You fuckin’ like it, don’t you-“

“Love it.” You gasp, unable to even think to deny him again. “Love you, Bucky- Oh- Oh my god-“

Bucky makes a ragged, choked sound, and cums almost without warning. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, as he pumps you full of his release. It feels like even more than before. Like you’re going to burst with how full you are, spurts of it still being forced out as Bucky fucks you through. You’ve never felt so totally claimed, with him all over every inch of your skin. He kisses you and you giggle, dazed and almost high on the feeling.

And he’s not even done.

The period of lucidity between orgasms gets shorter before it gets longer. Bucky’s ability to control himself almost vanishes all together. You get a kiss and broken mumble of your name before you’re being flipped back onto your stomach and fucked from behind. There will be handprints on your ass and thighs in the morning, and the sheets are stained with your drool from how Bucky railed you from behind.

You’re dragged into his lap right after, and he pushes his thumb into your mouth, then ruts up into your gaping cunt. You’re all moans and ditzy smiles by that point. When rolls you back onto your stomach and sits up on his knees, you just take it with moans and giggles and cries of delight.

He hasn’t just ruined you. He’s pulled you apart a million times over, until you’re just a puddle that sings his name.

You don’t even fully realize he’s done, when he kisses pulls out that last time. You whine, and clench around nothing, but expect to get filled right back up.

Then Bucky kisses you, and it’s slow. Savoring and sweet. Romantic. His voice is hoarse, but it’s lost the strained quality. He’s fully teasing again, smiling against your lips.

“So soft.” He coos, rubbing your thoroughly abused pussy with his warm hand.

You writhe, trying to get further and closer at the same time. Bucky chuckles, and kisses the corner of your mouth.

“Jesus, doll. You’d think you were the one that got sex drugged.”

You try to glare at him, but forget why the moment you see his pretty eyes, shining on yours.

They’re blue again.

“You’re back?” You breathe, and Bucky grins.

He ducks down, and presses another quick kiss over your lips.

“I’m back.”

 You’re ordered not to move, while he cleans up. You don’t think you could if you tried. Your body is jelly, everything is sore in the best way, and your head is spinning with too many thoughts of what the fuck happened.

You told Bucky you love him. You told Bucky you love him. You’d never even fully admitted it in your head and he just fucked it right out of you. You said it fast, too fast, he thought you hated him four hours ago and now he must think you’re some kind of freak for just saying you love him.

He makes you drink water and go to the bathroom. Draws you a bath and brings you a snack and changes the sheets. You manage to find the strength to stand out of the tub and dry yourself off, wrapping the towel around your body before shuffling out in the center of his room.

God, he’s so handsome. All tan muscles and scars you want to trace with your tongue. Too bad you fucking blew it, and now you’re never going to get to touch him again-

Bucky turns, and smiles when he sees you. You swallow, bracing for the worst as he crosses the room.

He takes your face between his hands and kisses you. Deep and gentle and maybe he just forgot-

“Love you too.” He says against your lips. “Just- Uh- While we’re saying it.”

Oh.

Or that. That’s nice.

You throw everything you have into kissing him back, but end up tackling him down onto the bed with the sudden surge of strength. Bucky chokes out a laugh in surprise, wrestling you over onto your back with kiss and wandering hands. You giggle, trying to push back, and he nips at the tip of your nose.

Then he pauses, and pulls up with a small, worried frown.

“You’re stayin’ the night, right?”

You almost snort. There’s no getting rid of you now. You’re going to stay forever, and as long as he’ll allow after that.

“Yeah. I’m staying.”

✦End note: this was longer than my college thesis btw. and i. put more effort into it.✦

✦If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3✦

✦Buy me a coffee!☕️ (and get early access!)✦

Choosing to study in Cameron’s room this time rather than the library was proving to be impossible. With him being fortunate enough to have his own single, you two got comfortable on his bed. Crossing your legs, you sat at the head of his bed. He rested his back against the wall, facing the door. You weren’t even twenty minutes in yet before he started begging you to come to his football game. Specifically, for you to come sit in the family and friends section again. In his own words: “this one is important for real”.

“For me at least?!”

“No”.

“Please?”

“No!”

“Pl-”

Fully looking up from your notebook now, you glared at him before he could utter the word. “Cam, no. I already told you I’m not doing that shit again! The regular bleachers will do just fine”. You already planned to go, however you had been adamant on not sitting in the same section. Assuming that meant you weren’t going at all, Cameron made sure to lay it on thick. He learned early on in your friendship that there was an 85% success rate if he annoyed you enough to the point you’d give in.

He laughed, swatting your ankle. “C’Monnn, I promise this time will be different”. Pausing as the moment replayed in his head, he let out another snicker. “I swear on everything I’ll make sure you don’t get hit with the ball”.

You kicked at his shin, trying to conceal your laughter. “It’s not funny! The bruise is just now starting to fade”. The first-and last-time you sat front row in the family & friends section, the ball ended up striking you just above your hip.

Wrapping his hand around your calf, he gave it a squeeze. Sporting a soft smile while rubbing your skin, he voiced, “I’m sorry”. Shifting to a serious tone now, his grip trailed up, stopping below your knee. “Please come… I need you there tomorrow”.

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you contemplated, taking in his expression. He was talented in that way, able to make you crack with one pleading look and that soft drop in his voice. Begrudgingly, you mumbled, “fine. But I am NOT sitting in the front row, I don’t care”.

A wide grin spread across his features before he pounced, pulling you onto his lap to trap you in a bear hug. “Thank you”. Making a small noise of surprise, you immediately slid your hands up his back. Folding your knees beside his hips for comfort, you straddled him. He lingered, absentmindedly rubbing along your hips and savoring the scent of your fragrance.

With your cheek pressed against his chest, a faint smile ghosted your lips. Wincing when his thumb accidentally swiped across your bruise, you shifted in his lap. Bringing your hands to his abdomen, you gave him a gentle nudge. “Cam”.

Quickly uttering, “sorry”, he repositioned his hands on your thighs. He leaned back, peering in the direction of your bruise before lifting his gaze. “You good?” You nodded, eyes falling to his lips for a split second. Suddenly, aware of the compromising position, you began to move off his lap. Once you slipped out of his grasp, his gaze followed while you situated yourself at the head of his bed. Glancing down, he swallowed hard, using a pillow to cover himself so you wouldn’t notice the tent growing in his sweats.

You two had been dancing around the tension for years. Never placing a name on it or giving the feelings that began to simmer over time any attention. Nothing ever happened but you both shared the same thought. It wasn’t worth losing each other if things went wrong. The friendship was too important. Plus, in your mind, if there was something on his end, it was just lust. And the thought of that alone hurt more than discovering whether or not he truly felt the same so you remained comfortable in the unknown.

“You owe me by the way”.

He was waiting for that to come. Lips curling into a smile, he asked, “What do you want?”

Continuing to write, you kept your attention focused on the page in front of you, not sparing him a glance while responding. “That’s for you to figure out, I’m sure you’ll come up with something!” Pausing your movements to raise your head, you caution, “you’ll still owe me if I’m not satisfied though so choose wisely”. You finished with a curt smile before resuming your writing.

Uttering in a hushed tone, “you’re something else for real”, he shook his head in amusement.

Ears perking up a bit, you hummed, “what was that?”

Throwing his hands up in defense, he quickly voiced, “Nothing! Didn’t say anything”.

………………

Any chance he could, Cameron would glance over towards the family and friends section, anticipating your arrival. You’d leave him on his toes a lot, but this was the one thing he could never predict with you. He started to note you’d either come fairly early or exactly when the game started but you’d never be late. Not even five minutes. Despite knowing this, he couldn’t help the pit that formed in his stomach until he saw your face.

Completely unaware of how much weight he had placed on you showing up, you would simply show up whenever you happened to finish getting ready. Avoiding coming in late was the only somewhat strict guideline you held yourself to. No matter how many times you’d watch him play, it never became repetitive. If anything, each game was different. Cameron was consistently sharp as a player, seemingly excelling with every play.

Football has always been the focal point of his life. To any bystander, they would see him and think he was great. To you, all you saw was his drive to become perfect. He’s never stopped. And he’d never allow himself to. Any broken bones or concussions were just a bump in the road. Cameron remained in his place as the most persistent person you’ve ever met.

A part of you was always on edge, terrified even that something would happen to him on the field one day. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop watching. Not when he slipped into that state of raw, unbridled focus. To say he’s grown since you were kids would be an understatement.

Just as warm up was winding down, Cameron watched you saunter into the stands. Spotting someone you knew, you took a seat next to them, sparking up conversation. Recognizing the crew neck you wore was the one with #5 embroidered on the wrists, he smiled at the sight. The sheer amount of merch you had accumulated continued to grow and was getting a bit ridiculous at this point, but you weren’t complaining. The quality was unmatched. Each item he’d give you would either fall in pajama territory or your closet depending on the style.

As predicted, the game ended with Cameron as the MVP, bringing in another win for the team. Making your way out of the stadium, you and your classmate paused for a moment to catch up before you left.

“Sooo what’s up with you and Cam?! How long you been on that?”

Brows furrowing in confusion now, your mood shifted as soon as the words left her mouth. Smile dwindling a bit, you questioned, “what do you mean…?” You knew what she meant but there was a reason you never outwardly spoke about him unless prompted. Majority of people who were privy of your friendship automatically assumed it was more than that. Nor would they believe it when you two clarified you’re just friends.

“How long have y’all been fucking? Or are y’all actually together?!”

“Neither actually. We’re just friends, it’s not like that”. Maintaining your composure, you were waiting for her to voice the real reason for asking.

Her expression immediately lighting up, she asked, “would you mind hooking me up then?? He looks too good around campus, I can’t believe you haven’t fucked at all!”

Forcing out a short laugh, you nodded. “You cool with me giving him your number?” Trying to ignore the twinge of discomfort settling in your stomach, you kept a tight lipped smile.

Nodding, she hummed, “Mhm, that works!”, rolling her eyes afterwards. “My brother refuses to set me up with him, I’ve stopped asking him that shit”.

Finding yourself growing increasingly uncomfortable, you let out another laugh. “No problem. I’ll see later, I have to go!” Right on cue, your phone started ringing as you began to walk back to your car.

“Hey”

“Hey, you still here?!”

“About to leave, why?”

“Give me ten minutes! Don’t leave yet”.

“I’m giving you eight, hurry up”. Hearing his laughter ring out through the phone before you hung up, a small smile came to your face. Occasionally, he would take up the opportunity to ride back to campus with you if he chose to ride with one of his teammates to the field instead of driving.

Knowing you always parked as close as possible, Cameron made a beeline for your car. Distance closing in, he saw you clearly, distracted on your phone. Taking this as a chance to scare you, he ducked down, gradually getting closer until he ran up to your window, slapping his hands on the glass. Jumping at the sudden noise, you clutched your heart, turning to see him bubbling with laughter. You glared at him, shaking your head in amusement before cracking the window. “Yea, have fun walking back to your dorm. I’m not giving you a ride!”

He swiftly rounded the car, pulling on the handle to see you had already locked it. “Wait chill, unlock the door!” Deciding to partake in the antics, you kept your finger on the button, unlocking it for a split second before locking it again. You did it one more time, laughing as he attempted to open it again before finally letting him in. He climbed in, throwing his travel bag in the back before shifting the seat as far as it could go for leg room.

The scent of his body wash immediately striking your senses, you involuntarily clench your legs. You took in his appearance, baggy gray sweats riding low on his hips with a plain white wife beater on. Gaze trailing down his bicep towards the prominent veins displayed on his forearm, you questioned, “it’s hardly 55 degrees right now, you’re not cold?”

He shook his head, expressing, “nope”, as his eyes scanned over your outfit. Lips turning up into a smile, he reached over the console, grabbing your wrist to get a clear view. This was the first time he’d ever seen you wear any of the merch he gave you with his personal number on it. Heart speeding up, he was silent for a moment. “You wore this one for me?”

Unbeknownst to him, you always wore the engraved items of clothing in private. Briefly glancing in the direction he was looking, you peered back up, almost able to see the gears turning in his head. “No, I wore it because it’s cold out. Plus, it’s comfortable”. After he chuckled at your response, you playfully pushed at his knee, rolling your eyes. “Duh I wore it for you. Didn’t you say this one was important?”

Laughing again, he nodded. “There were several scouts watching today”. You knew there was always a range of them at every game, but he wouldn’t have mentioned it unless some were from his top choices.

Many from other teams have come to scout him except for the ones he anticipated the most up until this point. “Wait… which ones from your lineup?”

A slow grin forming, he responded, “first and second”.

Unable to contain your excitement, you urged, “get out, I need to give you a hug!”, before promptly opening your door to step out. Cameron met you halfway, immediately wrapping his arms around your lower back to pull you flush against him. Bringing your hands up to reach his broad shoulders, you embraced him. Reveling in your hold, he nuzzled into your shoulder, lowering his grip to your hips.

Noticing he was reluctant to part, you ran one of your hands down his arm, caressing his bicep while mumbling, “I’m happy for you”.

Feeling him smile against you, his voice was muffled. “Knew you would be”. After another second, he lifted his head. Peering down at the sincere expression that had settled over your features, his mind was quiet. Through all the chaos that accompanied the sport, you were at the center of it, grounding him back in reality.

It was moments like these where confusion would strike you a bit. Cameron was an open book. You were well acquainted with all his cues at this stage in your friendship, yet you could never decipher what he was thinking when his eyes glazed over like this. Giving his arms a gentle squeeze, you asked, “ready to leave now?”

Nodding in response, he chimed, “I could drive if you want”.

“Yea, absolutely not Cam. You drive crazy!”

He scoffed, “Me?! I’m probably the safest driver you know”.

Amused, you raised a brow at his quip, shaking your head in disagreement against his chest. “Not even by a long shot”. Aware of him still keeping you in his grasp, you remarked, “so… you plan to let me go or…?” After he begrudgingly parted you two shared a small laugh, getting back in the car to leave.

Once you returned back to campus, a thought sprung to your mind. Shutting the car off, you casually mentioned, “oh by the way I have a number for you”.

“The girl you were sitting with…?” You nod, unlocking your phone to find it. Before you could even start the search, he quickly voiced, “I don’t want it”. At the sound of this you peered over to see his face fell flat.

Confused and slightly intrigued, you confirmed, “you sure?”

“Positive”. Jaw clenching now, he added, “I’m not getting involved with Brian’s sister. I don’t want her”. He studied your features in acknowledgement, biting his tongue.

Assuming it was nothing more than a boundary thing with his teammate, you shrugged, leaving it off with an “ok”.

Both proceeding to walk in the direction of the dorms now, Cameron asked, “can I come up tonight?”

You nodded, sending a quick message to your roommate. While Cameron was lucky enough to be alone, you were lucky enough to share an apartment with your best friend. It had just become a courtesy at this point to give a heads up even though she’d never care, occupied in her own bedroom or the living room.

Upon entering the space, Cameron made himself comfortable on the bed while you searched your dresser for pajamas. “What about the movies?” Humming in confusion, you turned to face him. “Going to the theatre, is that acceptable for you? I know you’ve been wanting to see the movie that just came out”.

Ears perking up in interest, you questioned, “when?”

“This Friday work? We can go after my practice, get food afterwards?”

A genuine smile finding its way to your face, you shook your head in approval, “Yea, I’m satisfied with that”, before venturing off towards the bathroom to change. When you left his view, Cameron’s grin widened. Nothing granted him more pleasure than making you happy.

After a few moments, you returned, wearing a loose fitting top with sweatpants, ready for sleep. Dimming the lights now, you cozy up under the covers next to him. Both mindlessly discussing how your day went while scrolling on your phones, you began drifting off. Cameron followed suit, having it in mind that he was going to rest his eyes for a bit before heading out. You two ended up falling into a deep slumber, periodically shifting your bodies throughout the night to get comfortable.

At some point, he turned to his side, slinging his arm around your mid-section. Loosely grasping his forearm, you gravitated towards his body, shuffling back against him. You stayed in that position for a few hours, unconsciously moving your body again to flip around, nuzzling into his side. He kept his arm wrapped around you, pulling you as close as possible.

Once morning came, Cameron woke up first. His eyes gradually opened, adjusting to the light peeking through your curtains until they dropped to your figure. Curled next to him, you had your face pressed onto his chest, arm resting along his abdomen. Staying quiet and still, he admired the view, feeling his heart swell. Sure, there had been other instances in the past where you two happened to fall asleep in the same bed but none like this. He’d stay like this all day, just watching the soft rise and fall of your body for comfort.

Your alarm beginning to ring out now, his thoughts were cut short. Eyes still shut, you groggily shifted, reaching to turn the sound off before bringing your arm back to its position. Slowly becoming aware, your brows furrowed in confusion. You repeatedly pat his stomach, feeling the hard planes of his abdomen underneath your fingertips. Quickly coming to the realization after a few seconds, you blinked, pushing yourself up into a seated position.

Giving him a playful shove, you turned your attention to him. Mumbling out, “How come you didn’t say anything? I didn’t know I was all over you like that”, you saw a small grin on his face.

Bypassing the twinge of emptiness, he felt when you pulled away, he casually shrugged, “I didn’t mind”. He watched as you checked the time on your phone, setting it back down with a tired groan. “What time is your class?”

“12:30 today. You?”

“Eleven”.

“Cam that’s in an hour…”

“So?”

Voicing, “What do you mean so?!”, you shoved him again, laughing at his sense of urgency. “You need to leave right now to get ready. I refuse to be the reason you’re late!”

“Damn you’re kicking me out already?! Bedside service sucks here”.

More laughter bubbling out, you urged, “yes, it does, now get up! There’s extra toothbrushes in the bathroom”. He chuckled, finally moving to head to the bathroom. Before he left, you told him to just text you the details for the movie later.

………………

Friday

Cameron now found himself in a predicament. His teammates had drilled into his head the best way to celebrate several of their top picks showing up was an impromptu party. Tonight. He didn’t want to reschedule, nor did he want to cancel on you but in that moment at practice he thought: what better way to celebrate that…?

“Ik this is last minute, but you mind if we go on Sunday? I’m exhausted rn, I’m just going to sleep in tn.”

“No, that’s fine. I understand”.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you I swearr”.

“Cam it’s fine, get ur rest. I’ll talk to you tmr”.

“You’re not mad, are you??”

“No, just take care of yourself pls. Hope you get some good sleep!”.

The guilt was quick to set in and stayed throughout the evening. As soon as he sent the first message, he felt the pit simmering in his stomach, increasing by the hour. After practice was over, he sat on his bed, contemplating whether it was the right move to actually go to the party. Damage had already been done the moment he rescheduled so in his mind, things couldn’t possibly get worse if he showed his face for an hour or two. He never lied to you, let alone left you as an afterthought so what was different now? Why did it feel so heavy?

On the opposing end, you felt a pang of disappointment when the notification popped up but brushed it off. Tried too at least. Placing your focus back on the show you were watching with your roommate, your mind drifted. It felt like there was something else he was omitting but he would’ve told you. Gnawing on your lip as anxiety began to creep in, you were quiet, thinking about what else it could be. He’ll probably tell me later.

Poorly hiding your concern, your best friend peered over, taking in the worry painted on your features. Momentarily dragged out of your thoughts, you felt a nudge on your shoulder. You Glanced over at her, releasing a small hum. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing”.

“Girl…”

“Nothing, seriously. I just… I don’t know”. You passed her your phone, showing the messages. “Am I tripping for feeling like something’s a little bit off?! Be honest”. She took a moment to read the thread, and you watched as her neutral expression morphed into one of discontent.

Shaking her head, she handed it back to you. “He’s hiding something, guarantee it”. Your face fell at her words. Despite seeing that coming, a part of you was hoping she’d lie. At least then you could really convince yourself not to overthink. Attempting to cushion her words, she encouraged, “fuck him though, don’t even give it a second thought! Come out with me tonight!” Seeing your apprehension, she grasped your hand, continuing, “pleaseee, I’ll make sure you have fun! It’ll take your mind off it!”

A smile ghosting your lips at her insistence, you caved. “Ok, fine! Where are we going?”

Gleefully squeezing your hand now, she grinned.

“Some party happening near the hub I think?? I don’t know who’s hosting but my friend said it should be a good turnout. We’ll see for ourselves though!” Checking the time on her phone, she mumbled, “oh shit…”, before launching off the couch. “Start getting ready now, we’re going to pregame!” Turning on her heels to head toward her room, she yelled out, “wear something slutty!”

Loudly laughing at her excitement, you sprung off the couch, shouting back “I will”, through your laughter.

………….

You were three shots in by the time you two arrived at the party and sure enough, the place was packed. Though you were a bit tipsy, you could’ve sworn that you’d been here before. The house looked way too familiar but not enough for you to spare more than a second thought. Immediately upon walking in, the aroma of smoke filled your nostrils accompanying the heavy bass leaking from the speakers as the music blasted.

With your arms linked, you two shuffled deeper into the house, stopping for a moment to converse with a few mutual friends. After a couple more interactions, both of you managed to navigate through the sea of people, finding the kitchen. Giggling at your best friends reaction once she spotted her drink of choice, you lost your footing for a second. Bumping into somebody hard, you turned your head a bit, muttering out, “oops, sorry about that!”

After hearing your name called, you fully swiveled, searching around to figure out who said it before looking up directly in front of you. “Brian, hey! What are you doing here?!” Pulling him in for a brief hug, he chuckled. “I’m hosting! Glad you could come”.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were having a party tonight”. It took a second for you to make the connection, but it slowly dawned on you as he continued.

“What do you mean? Cam didn’t tell you?? He said you couldn’t come!”

Keeping a smile plastered on your face, you dismissed the anger bubbling inside upon realizing he lied, twice. Shaking your head, you voiced “nope! He’s here?”

“Yea, he’s on the couch!” Eyeing you up and down, he added, “you look good by the way” ignoring him uttering “really good” under his breath, you simply nodded.

“Thanks”. Looking around to see where your friend was, you stopped in your tracks after his voice rung out again.

“You know Cam said you were off limits, but you mind if I get your number really quick…?”

“Sorry, he said what?!”

“He told us you were off limits but shit, he’ll just have to understand”.

Sobering up by the second you confirmed, “He told all of you I’m off limits?!” Once he nodded, he asked for your number again and you decided in that moment, why not? Promptly making your way out of the kitchen now, you went off to figure out where your friend might have wandered. Your mind was racing now, trying to decipher what could’ve possibly motivated Cameron to act like this.

Crossing another pathway throughout the house, your heart sunk as you caught a clear glimpse of the couch. Even at a distance you could make out Cameron’s figure. The couch had several other people occupying it and one of those happened to be Brian’s sister. Music deafening out and the people surrounding the area suddenly going out of focus, you stood there, blinking at the scene unfolding. With both her arms curled around his, she shuffled her body close, leaning against his side to murmur something in his ear. He looked disinterested, not particularly focused on her or anything going on around him and you could tell by her mannerisms that she was drunk, yet you had no time to form a thought.

“There you are, I lost you girl! Having fun yet?!”

The sound of her voice was barely enough to pull you out of the trance you were in. For a split moment, he locked eyes with you during a scan of the room. Unsure if he was seeing correctly, he squinted, eyes widening once he realized. Heart lurching, the familiar lump began forming in your throat. Quickly looking away, your vision started to blur, tears threatening to spill. Frantically looking around to find the closest exit, you urgently muttered, “I need air, I need to leave”.

Before you broke your gaze, she followed your line of sight, smile dropping and mouth parting once she saw. Immediately understanding, she linked your arms again, keeping a solid grip while she wordlessly started leading you through the crowd, out the back door. You couldn’t wipe the droplets beginning to roll down your cheeks fast enough.

………………

Unable to shake the gnawing feeling of guilt, he regretted coming to the party as soon as he crossed the threshold. He was about to walk back but was stopped by one of his homeboy’s sparking a conversation. The atmosphere was no help, only proving to be more irritating than anything. Passed up going to the movies for this shit…

Deciding to take refuge on the couch, he was quiet, only contributing to the conversations here and there. But to really top things off, it was impossible for him to stop thinking about you. About how much he’d rather be celebrating with you, alone. Consistently checking his phone to see if you might’ve messaged him again, his knee started bouncing with nerves. Wonder what she’s doing right now…

He wasn’t allowed more than fifteen minutes of peace before Brian’s sister attempted to saunter over sensually, plopping down into the little space available next to him. Any thin thread of patience he had left the moment she touched him. Brows furrowing in disgust, he was about to brush her off, standing fully to leave the party but then his eyes found you. Dawning on him how bad this shit looked, he swiftly stood up, abruptly pushing her off to barrel through the crowd.

Disappearing as quickly as he saw you, he no longer saw which direction you went. Fuck, please pick up... Heart racing now, Cameron rushed through, getting outside to call you. No answer. Call again, no answer. Sprinting to his car, he sped back to campus.

“I’m sorry”.

“Where are you??!”

“I’m coming to find you”.

“Please talk to me, let me explain”.

After several calls and messages, you put your phone on dnd, disregarding them. Fortunate enough to catch a ride back with your roommate and her current fling, she asked if you were good to walk to the apartment alone. Ensuring you were, she stayed behind while you stepped out, making your way toward that path. Frankly being completely alone right now sounded nice. You needed to clear your thoughts.

Despite being upset that he lied, the one thing that stood out to you was the “off limits” statement. There was no questioning whether or not that was true because after a bit of reflection, you realized just how obvious it was. You weren’t around all of his teammates much but the few that would circulate around him always averted their gaze, keeping interactions short and to the point. In this moment you wanted nothing to do with Cameron. At All. But the only thing you wanted right now was an explanation. Some semblance of truth that might explain his behavior.

Settling into the comfort of your room now, you sighed. Taking a seat on your bed, you finally let the tears flow freely, actively trying to wipe them as they came. It was ridiculous to even cry about something so trivial, but you couldn’t shake the image of him with Brian’s sister. The steeping knot that set in your stomach seeing him comfortable with another woman. Maybe he lied about that too…

Hearing a faint knock on the door, you grabbed a tissue, patting your eyes before stepping out of your room. Assuming it was your roommate coming up to grab something, you swung open the door, only to be met with Cameron. His heart twisted when you came into view. Spotting your tear stained cheeks, he fought the urge to reach out and swipe them away. Face growing rigid at the sight of him, you quickly motioned to shut the door. He placed his hand on it, halting the movement.

“Please, I’m not here to upset you. I just want to apologize”. Taking a few steps back from the door, you moved into the kitchen, leaning against the counter for balance. Stepping into the apartment now, he rounded the other side, leaving a gap between you two. He knew better than to crowd your space when you were angry with him, having learned that lesson the last time.

“I’m giving you five minutes. Hurry up”.

“My intention wasn’t to hurt you I didn’t— I wasn’t thinking when I accepted that invite, I’m sorry. I fucked up, I know that, but I promise—-”

Your frustration was rising with each word. Sharply cutting him off, you interjected, “what was it then hm? To lie for the sake of lying?!”

“No, that was a mistake. I should’ve told you the truth”.

“But you didn’t… for whatever fucking reason. I could promise you I wouldn’t have cared if you said off rip you didn’t want to go tonight anymore. Matter fact, let’s see…” You held out your hand, using your fingers to begin counting how many times he lied. “Instead of flat out telling me you’d rather go to an impromptu party, you told me you were going to sleep in. Hell, who knows if you were actually exhausted so lie number two?? Told your friend I couldn’t come, lie number three-”

His solemn expression morphed into confusion as you continued. Heart rate speeding up, he grew deeply concerned about what else Brian possibly told you. “But my favorite one— “, you paused to laugh, using air quotes now. “‘I’m not getting involved with Brian’s sister. I don’t want her’”. Brows furrowing now after listing them, you gazed at him, utterly puzzled.

He shook his head, rounding the counter to level with you. “That last statement was not a lie, I don’t. I know how it looked but I promise you she was drunk, I pushed her off me. You know I don’t want her”. You glanced down, fighting back the urge to cry as he continued. Cautiously stepping closer, he earnestly pleaded, “please believe that. The other two were lies and I apologize for even putting you in this position but please—”. He reached for your hand, soothing the back of it with his thumb.

For a brief moment you softened into his touch, resolve slipping until the words “off limit” rung in your mind. Anger spiking, you shoved him away, pushing him at his chest. “Don’t touch me!” Tears fell as your mind raced. Stepping out of his proximity, you headed into the living room, creating as much distance as possible.

He turned, watching you pace. Taken back by your demeanor, he was trying to understand what you were thinking. Anything to rationalize why you were so upset. Facing him now, you stopped, mumbling in a hushed tone, “why would you—”, pausing to clutch your stomach. “Why did you tell your teammates I’m off limits…?”

Mind going blank, Cameron felt his heart drop to his stomach. “It’s not like that— it’s not what you think, I swear”. He met you in the living room, pain flashing in his eyes when you took a step back. “I don’t want them to hurt you, that’s all—”.

“But it’s ok when you do it…?” Words sending a direct pang of guilt up his spine, Cameron shook his head. “Is that why you lied…?” He was frozen. Throat burning now, a hard lump formed.

You urged yourself to continue, trying to dismiss how excruciating the knot had grown with every thought. Voice cracking, you managed to stutter out, “how— how long have you been waiting for an opportunity…? Is that how you see me…? This…?”, motioning between the two of you. “A quick fuck??”

The silence was loud. Cameron couldn’t conjure up any thought. Struggling to breathe now, he felt like someone had punched him in his chest, winding him of air. Scrambling to stop that notion from going any farther in your brain, he frantically emphasized, “no… no, no, listen that’s not what this is to me, I’m not— “. He couldn’t help himself from coming closer, reaching out to soothe you.

It was too late. That idea had already been fully adopted, seeping into your conscious and jumbling with your own feelings for him. You were becoming increasingly distressed, throat constricting before another wave of fresh tears streamed down your face. Shaking your head in disbelief, you took another small step backwards, muttering, “stop”.

Obliging for fear of upsetting you further, Cameron stopped, dropping his extended arm. “You know how much you mean to me…? Our connection…? How could you think— when have I given you the impression that’s how I view our friendship?! I would never see you like that…”. Hearing his voice break, you were almost on the verge of pulling him in for a hug. It was clear you wouldn’t be able to rationalize your thoughts and feelings with him around you. “I don’t see you like that”.

“Please leave…”

Standing there in shock, Cameron couldn’t remember the last time he felt this gut wrenched. Reluctantly walking a few steps back, he clenched his jaw, turning to leave out. The closer he came to his dorm, the worse he felt. Once he reached his room, an uncomfortable, stinging ache took root in his chest. Vision blurring, he ran a hand down his face, rubbing his eyes to prevent any tears from coming. He didn’t care how damaged things felt right now, determined to repair it no matter what.

Eventually you calmed down enough to think without tears welling in your eyes. You laid in bed, chronologically replaying the day in your head. Confused even more now, his demeanor throughout the conversation continued flashing. And while you were Initially unsure about whether he was being honest, you weighed that single factor. The one thing he could never mask was his hurt. Not with you. He never tried to.

The following morning, Cameron had to force himself not to call or text you, wanting to respect your space. Deciding to continue with his routine, he buried the growing concern steeping into his mind as each day passed without a word from you. There was only one other time in your friendship where you weren’t speaking to each other. That instance was in middle school and ended up lasting for one week.

This, however, was becoming uncharted territory, having reached the seven day mark. Now, beginning to stay up longer than normal, Cameron’s sleep gradually deteriorated. It took everything in him just to wait for a call. A text. Anything from you indicating you were ready to talk but it never came. The anxiety from simply missing your presence peaked on day twelve at his next home game.

Since that night, you went into overdrive, making yourself busy to avoid that feeling. The lingering craving of wanting him around, needing him next to you, combined with the disappointment you felt. Knowing exactly what you felt when looking at him went far beyond the platonic realm, you refused to indulge. Not if there was any shred of him that only viewed you in a sexual manner, completely disregarding the essence of your connection. Unable to bring yourself to go to his game, you stayed in, choosing those hours to study. To make matters worse, you received a message from an unknown number, grimacing when you realized who it was. You rolled your eyes at the tacky line, fully regretting giving him your information in the heat of the moment. At least that decision to block him came quickly with zero contemplation.

First down came and went and you still weren’t here. Cameron had come to terms with the fact that you weren’t coming. But he didn’t anticipate that throwing him off to the degree it did. One mistake was rare and barely tolerable depending on the severity. Three was a major fuck up in his eyes. He couldn’t reconcile with misalignment in his life. Not with you, not with football, and certainly not at the same time. They still won the game but that didn’t matter to him. Knowing that wasn’t his best was enough to send him down a spiral.

His homeboys noticed his mood shift and suggested going to another party as a remedy. Cameron knew that wouldn’t do anything to take his mind off of the game… nor make the ache that had twisted into a wrench in his chest disappear. But at least it’d keep him busy. Being around other people and thinking about you felt more productive than doing that while he was alone. It was unavoidable though.

Smoking outside with two of his teammates, Cameron only started listening when one of them mentioned Brian.

“He will not shut the fuck up about her”

“At all. It’s starting to piss me off, for real!”

Chiming in, Cameron asked, “who?”

“Some girl he met at his party a couple weeks ago. He trying to be mysterious and shit, talking about she’s cool with his sister”.

Settled into a low buzz now, Cameron completely tuned out everything else they started saying. Falling quiet again, he felt a twinge of jealousy spark, quickly rolling into a steady buildup of anger. It was easy putting two and two together that you were the girl they spoke of. Going back into the party to confront him, he kept it in the back of his mind not to take it past a simple conversation. Despite this, his temper increased the longer it took to find him. Hardly gentle as he glided past people, he stopped upon hearing a random voice yell his name. “Yoooo Cam! Man, what’s up with you?!”

Growing tense, he clenched his jaw, hardening his facial expression as the person approached, walking up to his side. “Haven’t seen you fumble that bad in second quarter before-”. Cameron heard the ringing in his ears become increasingly loud, blocking out the music and conversations around him. He began to move again, ignoring the voice before he reached his tipping point. “Is it the bitch you hang with all the time? What’s her name? She stop giving you pussy or somethi—“, and that final statement was enough to drive him there.

Swinging around to piece him in his jaw, Cameron delivered two more strikes, knocking him off balance. The guy stumbled, landing on the floor before another hit connected. Still moving in to punch him again, Camerons teammates stopped him. Forced to back off now, he jolted out of their grasp, moving to leave the party. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the inevitable consequences of his actions nor about the people standing around murmuring in a hushed tone at the commotion. Not with you flooding his mind.

Traveling back to campus as quickly as possible, he went directly to your apartment. He was contemplating for a minute, standing at the door wondering if he should just leave instead. But before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked. Ears perking up from the couch, you glanced over in the direction. Heading over to open it now, your breath hitched as Cameron came into view. You took in his appearance, worry falling onto your features at the sight of his red eyes sending a quiet plea. “Can we talk? Please…?”

Silently, you nodded, giving him space to come in. He shut the door, beginning to follow as you led him to your room. Sitting on the bed now, you crossed your legs, waiting for him to sit down too. Cameron tentatively walked over, placing himself right in front of you. Quietly asking, “what happened…?”, you were concerned looking at him.

From the side view of his face, you couldn’t fully decipher what was going on, he just seemed off. Gaze scaling down his arm, you reached out, grasping his forearm to look at his knuckle. Heart clenching, you dragged his hand into your lap, gently running your thumb along the light bruise forming. “You got into a fight?”

Cameron finally turned to look at you, his voice catching in his throat when he did. He was fixated on your soft expression and the warmth from your touch before he urged himself to speak. “A small one but that’s not why I came here”. You peered at him intently, almost forgetting why you were initially upset in the first place. Bringing your other hand over to faintly trace the skin on his wrist out of reflex, you signaled you were listening.

“I came to apologize again and tell you the truth…” He gripped your hand, squeezing before voicing, “no matter what though… promise me we’ll still be ok”. His face growing serious now, you became nervous to hear what he had to say.

Mumbling, “I promise”, your heart beat sped up.

“I went about things the wrong way. I’m sorry for how that night went… for making you cry”. A pang of guilt hit his stomach when the image flashed in his head. Tilting your head, you analyzed his expression. You quietly reached the understanding that all of his apologies were genuine, the pain in his eyes unmistakably reflected with his words.

Offering him a small smile, “I forgive you”, dropped from your lips.

“You haven’t heard the truth yet though”

Laughing at his response, you doubled down. “And? I still accept your apology. But continue, I might revoke that depending on how bad it is”. You saw him crack his first smile, visibly relaxing once you lightened the mood. He then gazed in your lap, memorizing how the pads of your fingertips felt along his skin in case things went south again. Feeling an onset of anxiety creep in, he tensed up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You were weary now. Cameron was hardly ever this serious. This was your first time seeing him so nervous to tell you something.

Bringing his gaze back to your face, he started, “I meant everything I said when we spoke. The only reason I told them you’re off limits is because I don’t think they’d give you the love you deserve. I don’t ever want you thinking I’m just waiting for an opportunity. That’s not how I feel about you… or what I’m thinking when I look at you”.

Upon seeing his eyes gloss over, you gave him a reassuring squeeze. “What are you thinking about right now…?”

“How much I missed you… how receptive you’d be if I tell you how I really feel”

“Don’t make me guess…” you were curious, rubbing his arm as you urged, “tell me”.

“I need you… Whether I’m with you or simply hearing your voice, that’s all I need”. Cameron felt his heart sink. Maybe it wasn’t too late to say he was joking but he had already gotten this far. “I’m in love with you”.

Looking at him in a state of shock, your smile faded. “Cam…” He grasped your other hand before you could pull away.

Panicked at your reaction, he declared “nothing has to change, we can forget about this conversation, I promise”. Fixing your gaze on his arms, you were quiet. “I just wanted you to know how I really feel about you…” A surge of emotions coming on now, you felt your heart skip a beat. Certain that he made things worse, Cameron started pleading. “Fuck, I’m sorry”. Feeling his throat tighten, he quietly begged, “please, don’t shut me out again, I’m sorry”.

Disconnecting from him, you moved off the bed. Cameron prepared to leave until you walked in between his legs, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Easing into your body, he circled your waist, pulling you close. Still too far apart for his liking, he brought his hands down to your thighs, hauling you up onto his lap. Both lingering in the soothing embrace, you ran your nails along his upper back. Voice muffled, you filled the silence. “What if I feel the same way?” He smiled into your skin, dragging a hand up your spine in response.

Lifting his head to peer at you, he questioned “do you?”

“What do you think…?” You cupped his jaw, turning his head to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I need you just as bad”. Heat creeped up Cameron’s neck from the gesture. He returned it, moving his hands down to squeeze your hips. Stopping yourself from grinding against him, you changed the subject. “Are you staying tonight?”

“You should know better than to ask that. I’m not going anywhere”. Starting to pepper your neck with pecks, he couldn’t hold back his smile. “You don’t know you’re stuck with me now? I got to show you?”

His pecks growing ticklish, a small laugh escaped you. “Nooo, I already was! Is it too late to take it back?!” He paused, staring at you with a blank expression before his smile widened. Clutching your waist for a single moment, he started tickling one side, drawing out more laughter. You squirmed in his lap, but he reinforced his hold, keeping one arm wrapped around your lower back.

He ignored your attempt at pushing his hand away, continuing his movements. A chuckle falling past his lips, he teased, “say that again?!” You started shifting uncontrollably, gripping his arm.

Bubbling out, “s-stop!”, your head fell to his shoulder. Before you could catch your breath, he swiftly switched sides, clutching you closer as his opposite hand began moving.

“Nah say that shit again, I didn’t hear you!” Squeezing your eyes shut as his chuckling rang out, you started patting his arm.

Stuttering out, “p-please”, you involuntarily cinched your knees beside him. Shortly after that, he stopped, reveling as you tried catching your breath. You playfully pushed at his chest, warning, “wait until later. Trust, I’m not forgetting this!”

Nipping at your neck, he goaded, “counting on that”. Emitting a faint moan, your hands dropped to his abdomen. Cameron clenched his jaw, rubbing the flesh on your thighs. He had to wait. Needed to wait until you initiated. Then he’d allow himself to indulge but until then he was grateful taking any instance of closeness from you.

“Go take a shower first, I’m not letting you sleep in my bed with outside clothes”.

“Yes ma’am”.

You had already been ready for bed by the time Cameron showed up at the door. A loose fitting shirt emulating his jersey with a pair of black shorts and fuzzy socks. Finding amusement in the fact he hadn’t made a single comment on it yet, you patiently waited, knowing it was coming at some point. While he was in the shower, you went ahead and grabbed an ice pack and a pair of his sweats from the stash of clothes he kept here.

Hearing footsteps now, you peered in that direction, subtly clenching your thighs when he appeared. With just a towel hanging low on his hips, your eyes focused on his happy trail then down to the imprint curved into the material. Silently exchanging a look, you handed him the pants, turning your body to the side while he got dressed. After a substantial amount of time, you asked, “are you done?” Instead of giving a response, Cameron launched on you, hovering above your back. “This is your second strike by the way”. Shifting under his full weight, you felt the fabric rub along your skin, brushing against his dick in the process. You twisted your hands in the sheets, a swirl of arousal pooling in your stomach. “Move”, slipped out breathier than you’d like.

Staying impossibly still, he leaned in towards your ear. “Say please”.

Biting back a moan, you stated, “No”. Your breath caught in your throat when his length twitched against your ass.

He might’ve just been high on emotions, but Cameron could’ve sworn you moulded perfectly against him. “I’m not moving then”.

Savoring how heavy he felt pressed into your body, you tried crossing your legs to alleviate the pressure building between them. You knew the desire would be bad when it came down to it, but you couldn’t have prepared for this at all. Already feeling your head spin, you plead, “Cam…”

Cameron finally took heed when he saw how flustered you were becoming. Gliding off to sit next to you now, he watched as you sat up, reaching for the ice pack on your nightstand. You wordlessly straddle his lap, pulling his arm in between the space to study his knuckle. “What happened…?” Gazing up after placing the ice over the swelling, you included, “and don’t be vague either”. For as long as you’ve known him, he had always been mild-mannered, not easy to enrage. And if he ever did have those moments, they had been few and far between on the field.

Resting his other hand on your thigh, he began kneading the skin for comfort. “random person ended up approaching me at a party talking about my performance in the game then mentioned you, that’s it”

You were curious but you wouldn’t even bother asking Cameron what the guy said. He wouldn’t budge if it was something disrespectful. Seeing his mood shift, he averted his gaze and went quiet. To prevent him from falling into the same pattern of overthinking, you attempted to nudge him. Softening your voice to ask, “is it the game…?”, you started wondering if you could’ve been the cause. “Or me…?”

At the sound of your tone, Cameron raised his head, spotting a glint of worry behind your eyes. Shaking his head, he encompassed your waist. “It’s not you I just— I should’ve done better… the amount of mistakes I made…”. His mind veered off, replaying each one in full detail.

Drifting your hand to his abdomen, you soothingly rubbed along the planes on his stomach. “How many?”

“Three…” he looked down at his hand, avoiding your gaze again.

You shook your head at his answer. “You push yourself way too hard”. Cupping his jaw to tip his face up, you rubbed circles into his skin, continuing to speak. “Making a few mistakes in one game doesn’t reflect on your value as a player. I’d be a tad concerned if you never made any mistakes at all”.

Staring at you with a smitten gaze, he cracked a smile. “How do you do that hm?”

Spotting the playful glimmer in his eyes, you raised a brow. “Do what?”

“Always saying the right stuff. No matter the situation, you always do that… how?”

You shrug, “I have my moments, I don’t know”, ending your response with a smile.

Cameron laughed, shifting the ice pack off his hand to wrap both his arms around you. Pulling you in for a hug, he muttered into your neck, “thank you”.

Flush against him now, your arms circled his neck. “You’re welcome”.

His hands trailed up your spine, running along the fabric of your shirt. This one had his number engraved on both sides. “I like the pajamas by the way, you look good”. He couldn’t see the vindicated smile that had formed on your face, but he felt the vibration from your laugh.

“Thank you, I like them too”.

Cameron realized out of all the evenings he spent with you, not once has he seen you wear it for sleep. “Had no idea you wore the merch to bed. I bet you do this shit a lot don’t you?”

“Don’t get cocky!” You both laughed after you spoke. After a small pause, you reluctantly admitted, “but yes... maybe”. Knowing there was a minuscule chance you’d regret telling him the reason, you did so anyway. “Makes me feel close to you… and it really is just comfortable honestly”.

Warmth filling his chest now, Cameron leaned back to get a look at you with a heavy glaze of affection in his eyes. Wetting his lips, he asked, “you missed me…?”

Holding back tears at the expression he wore, you swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding. Adjusting your place in his lap to get even closer, you whispered, “Talking to you, watching you play, all of it…”. Cameron pressed a kiss to your cheek, moving his hands down to massage your thighs. You did the same, peppering kisses across his jaw before placing a light one on his mouth. As soon as you pulled back, he followed, reconnecting your lips.

Feeling his hands drift up to your ass, you moaned when his length grazed the fabric of your shorts. Pulsing around nothing, a dull ache set in your core. You deepened the kiss, bringing one hand over to rest on his cheek. Cameron groaned, twitching underneath you as a sharp pang of thirst hit his stomach. Spurred on now, you rolled your hips, grounding against his dick at a gradual pace. Parting for air, you continued your movements, watching his reaction with every motion.

The sight was enough to send your mind reeling. Eyes hanging low and mouth parted, Cameron guided you back and forth. Slipping your hand down to his neck, you tip his jaw up slightly, tracing your thumb across the skin. The two of you exchanging soft breaths while staring, a whimper spilled out of you when one particular circle caused him to nudge your clit. Despite the boundaries of the fabric being thin, it was still too much.

Momentarily disconnecting from him to pull your shirt off, Cameron’s breath hitched. Eyes dropping to your breast, he squeezed your hips, mumbling in a hushed tone, “so beautiful”. You circled his shoulders again, leaning in flush against him now. He lapped at the sensitive spot below your ear, sucking and nipping to form a love bite. Mouth falling open to let a moan out, your movement faltered. Your nails raked along his skin as he traveled up to your jaw, inching towards your lips.

Cameron trailed his hands back down to your ass, finding a steady flow grinding you back and forth. The friction paired with the glide of his tongue began to cause your arousal to seep through the material. Dropping one of your arms to grasp his bicep, you clung to him as the pressure grew. He briefly parted to teasingly bite your bottom lip before reattaching. Starting to knead your flesh again, he brought out another moan from you.

Knowing he was close to the edge, Cameron halted your movements, attempting to prolong it until he no longer could. Breathing heavy, he checked, “you want to continue...?”

You nodded, responding “yes”, before involuntarily cinching your legs beside him.

“Can I taste you then…?” He already looked halfway intoxicated taking in your features. Rubbing smooth circles into the skin on your waist, his voice came out in a quiet tone. “Want to make you feel good…”.

You thumb at his bottom lip, the image of his face stuffed between your legs sending a tingle through your stomach. Nodding again, you moved out of his lap to lay down. He settled on top of you in between your legs, planting lingering kisses on your neck. Grasping his arms, your mouth parted when he sucked on your breast. Cameron flicked his tongue over your nipple, gently swirling the bud in between his teeth before drawing his attention to next, giving it the same love. Treading lower now, he showered your stomach with pecks until reaching the waistband of your shorts. His eyes were glued as he slowly dragged them off your legs.

Wetting his lips at the sight, he parted your thighs. Lying on the bed now, he drew his gaze up your body, leaving open mouthed kisses on each leg. Rubbing his forearms circled around your flesh, you met his eyes with a soft smile. Any sort of constraint he had flew out the window when he tasted you. Licking a long stripe from your entrance to clit, he rolls his tongue around it. You drop one hand in the sheets, bracing yourself after seeing the switch behind his pupils.

Dipping back down to stuff you, Cameron’s nose nudged your clit with every curl of his tongue. Setting a steady rhythm, his groan reverberated through your body. Chest rising and falling, you squeezed his arm, breathing out a quiet, “fuck”. He watched your reactions closely, noting the involuntary twitch in your thighs when he lapped at your bud. The way your bottom lip quivered before you bit it.

Your head lolled back into the pillows when he tightened his hold, pushing your thighs flush against him. Alternating between slow and fast movements, he gathered your arousal with every stroke. Back arching now, you twisted your hand in the sheets, attempting to roll your hips in tandem. The pressure in your stomach growing immensely, you released a shaky moan, shutting your eyes. Cameron flattened his tongue on your clit, motioning his head side to side before increasing the pace.

Relentless in his pursuit to make you orgasm, he latched onto your bud, rapidly flicking his tongue around it. Reaching a hand up to simultaneously massage your breast, he rolled each nipple between his thumb and index finger before palming one. Bringing your hand out of the sheets, you clung to him, digging your nails into his arm. Brows furrowing, you plead, “d- don’t stop”. Cameron was aching, desperate for relief as he twitched in his sweats. The friction from the covers only made it worse.

With another stimulating flick of his tongue triggering your orgasm, your thighs trembled around his head. Emitting a loud moan, you writhed under him while he continued. He smothered himself, delving in between your folds to catch all of your juices. Through the aftershocks of pleasure, the vibration from his groan caused you to peer down. The sight made your stomach tense again, sending a tremor up your spine. Mouth moving slowly now, his eyes were closed to fully savor everything you gave him. Squeezing his arms, you uttered, “Cam- “.

Cameron opened his eyes, the sound of your voice catching his attention. He massaged each breast again before grabbing your hip. Reluctantly detaching, he lifted himself up from his position. Palming your thighs, his voice held a rasp. “Too much?” Still in a dazed state, you were silent for a second as you looked at him. Everything about him was enough to send a spiral through your core but seeing him look so sated with half his face covered in your slick was an entirely different experience.

Needy for more, you shook your head no, reaching out for him. Eager to close the distance, he settled on top of you, melding your lips together. Tasting yourself on his tongue sent another whirl of heat through your stomach. Trailing your nails along his back, you parted to breathe out, “lay down”. He listened, rolling off to lay next to you. Cameron watched you kneel next to him, dipping your finger in the waistband of his sweats. “Can I…?” Immediately nodding in response, his heart raced at the thought.

You had already assumed he must’ve been well endowed from a few glimpses of his print, yet you still weren’t prepared when you tugged on his pants. Cameron saw the gears turning in your head. Your thighs shifted for relief when he came into view. Lengthy with a slight curve, good girth, and a few prominent veins throbbing when he twitched. Throwing your leg over his waist to straddle him now, you sat on his lap, placing your hands on his chest. He grasped your hips, letting out a harsh breath as you glide his dick in between your folds. After taking a minute to admire how he looked, you sealed your lips over his, continuing the back and forth motion.

Breathing out against his lips, “you want to feel what you do to me?”, Cameron twitched, feeling a bead of precum dribble out onto his abdomen.

Begging with his eyes, he murmured a low, “please”.

Running your hand up his neck to cup his jaw, you tilted his head, pressing a line of kisses on his cheek. Once you reached his ear you sweetened your tone. “Please what…?” You released a quiet moan when he unintentionally caused his tip to graze your clit from a desperate jerk of his hips.

Applying more pressure to your waist, it took everything in him not to buck his hips in sync. “Please let me feel you…”. He tilted his head in your direction, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Please…”.

Turning your head to connect your lips, the kiss quickly deepened. Lifting your hips to leave enough space, you nipped at his bottom lip, voicing, “go ahead”. Cameron took your cue, reaching underneath your thigh to line himself up with your entrance. Beginning to gradually descend, you kept your gaze focused on his face to distract yourself from the increasing stretch. Lips parted in awe with his eyes zoned in on yours, he was officially gone. You blinked a few times, clenching around his dick after he fully bottomed out. Though the pressure was there, your arousal had soothed the feeling. Doing an experimental roll to test the pain, all you were met with was pleasure coiling tight in your stomach.

Unable to hold in a throaty groan, his hands wandered down to your ass then your thighs, gripping on for some sort of stability. Eyes threatening to roll back, he shut them. It was too much. The warmth and wetness coming from your walls… how perfect you looked in this position… then you started to move. Raising till just his tip was left inside, you came back down in one motion. Feeling you trail your hand over towards his cheek, Cameron heard you moan out, “look at me”. He listened, grunting when you repeated the action.

Both of your hands gravitating down to his chest, you start a steady rocking motion. Fluttering around his length, you moan, “Keep them just like that”. His eyes appearing even more hooded at this angle, he maintained heavy eye contact, watching you gyrate on him. “Can u do something for me baby?” Your voice was breathless, trying to contain how close you were already.

Cameron nodded, “anything”.

“Tell me when you’re close”. You did one last roll of your hips, planting your hands towards his shoulders. Digging your knees firmly into the bed, you repeatedly bounced up and down, gaining extra traction with his guidance. Watching as he struggled keeping his eyes open now, your lips quivered when he skimmed your g-spot. His breath was staggered, each slip back down sending a ripple of arousal traveling through his body. Pulsating at the feeling, you whimper, “F-fuck, Cam”. The vulgar wet noise increasing with every impale only spurred you on.

His gaze drifted lower, zoning in on your arousal pooling at the base of his dick. Hoarsely stuttering, “I-I’m close baby”, Cameron pulled you in flush against him. Firmly curling one arm around your waist, he gripped the back of your thigh with his free hand. Your head dropped to his shoulder, a high pitched moan tumbling out at the skin to skin contact. Continuing to guide your hips in a rocking motion, he kept your body locked in place, beginning to thrust upward, meeting you each time you sunk back down.

Chiming against his ear, “hold it”, your stomach thrummed as the knot tightened, threatening to come undone with every angled thrust. Vision slipping and the noises becoming uncontrollable now, you clawed down his abdomen. He flexed under your touch, speeding up the pace.

Everything felt too good. Your breasts swaying on his chest… your uneven pants for air flowing out directly into his ear drum… the rhythmic pattern of your pulses… everything. Through the influx of sensation, Cameron twitched, mumbling something incoherent in response. Sounding like a mixture of a groan and a plea, he repeated himself. “I can’t—”, exhaling with a grunt.

Voice trembling with your unsteady breath, you moan, “You said you’d do anything…”

Upon hearing your tone, Cameron quickly jumbled off, “I will, f-fuck I will, you know that”.

Whimpering, “show me”, that was all Cameron needed. He caught you off guard, snapping his hips up at an alarming speed now. Desperately grasping onto his arm, your body shook. Before your impending orgasm completely took over, you managed to stutter, “you can—, o-oh fuck, you can cum Cam! You can cum baby!”

As his entire body tensed, he was able to murmur a quiet, “thank you”, finishing with a hoarse groan. The sudden feeling of your palm resting on his cheek paired with one more drag of your hips made him swell. Nothing measured up to the way you felt wrapped around him. You clamped down hard, warmth oozing from your core and treading throughout your body, you closed your eyes. Shuddering, he coated your walls, prolonging your orgasm. You two came back down after several moments of listening to the quick thrum of your heartbeats. Starting to rub soft circles onto your skin, he kissed your shoulder. “How do you feel?”

Emitting a sigh of content, you hum, “like I could run ten laps. Of course, not physically right now but internally? Yeah”. Snickering when his laugh vibrated against your body, you lifted your head. “What about you hm?”

“Feel the exact same”. You leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss on his lips before resting your head back on his shoulder.

After cleaning up and getting comfortable under the covers now, you draped your leg over his hip. You focused on his chest, eyes absentmindedly following the movement of your finger trailing side to side. With his head slightly tilted down to see you clearly, Cameron was staring. He held onto your thigh, pondering over the proper way to make things official. Assuming that was already clear and asking outright at the moment both seemed too casual for options but he needed you to know he was serious. Breaking the silence, he blurted, “Can I take you out on a date today?” Heart rate speeding up when you lifted your eyes to meet his gaze, he cleared his throat, adding “in the evening I mean. For dinner if you’re free…?”

Lips curling into a smile, you noticed the thread of nervousness in his voice. Refraining from making a joke, you simply nodded, “and where will we be going?”

“I have a new place in mind. I promise you’ll like it though”.

“Oh, I see…”, you squinted, humming in response. “You must be trying to surprise me if that’s all the info I get”.

“I am”. He chuckled, “don’t expect me to tell you, it’s not going to work!”

You were well versed in pulling information out of him. “I won’t pry, I swear!” Despite his words, it would be extremely easy to get it out of him if you persisted. Deciding against doing so, you’d let him have this one and simmer in your curiosity until later. Your face subtly began to morph into concern when you spotted his eye bags. Making sure you were seeing properly, you tipped his chin downward, getting a closer look. “Have you been sleeping…?”

He hesitated before voicing, “Yeah”.

“Cam…”

His eyes briefly glanced away. “I have… not well but I have”. Seeing a small frown develop now, he tried to offset the mood with a laugh. “What? How bad do they look?!”

“It’s not that they look bad, I just— “, you paused, moving your hand back down to his chest. “I didn’t think you’d be losing sleep”.

“Shit I already knew when I left that night. Was gonna call you out of reflex so many times but I was really trying to give you space”. Breaking into a fit of laughter, you leaned against him, hiding your face. He began laughing with you, confused at your reaction. “What?”

After your laugh died down, you moved back, admitting, “I was too. I almost caved on like the third day, but I figured you wouldn’t feel like talking and I didn’t know what to say…”

“So, we went two weeks…” Briefly exchanging a similar look when the realization set in that the misery was mutual, you both immediately broke into a fit of laughter. “That can never happen again. Everything felt off during that time”.

Cameron chuckled when you extended your pinky. “Promise me right now that if we ever find ourselves no contact again, one of us will break the ice if it reaches three days”.

“I’m never letting that happen again but— “, he connected your pinkies, “I promise”. You leaned in, pressing a kiss on them to seal the deal. He did the same, muttering, “just for good measure”, before giving your lips a peck. Smiling against his mouth, you gave him another. Then one more until he caressed your cheek, pulling you closer.

Thank you for reading, feedback is always appreciated!

Sammy Bryant has always had his eyes on you. I mean, who wouldn’t look at you? You’re an absolute stunner is what he’d say if anyone ever asked. You’d been his and Tammi’s neighbor for about two years before the divorce.

Each morning, when you both were heading to your respective jobs, you’d still be polite enough to yell out a “Mornin’ neighbor!” All while waving your pretty manicured nails at him. 

He’d blush each time, but he’d still offer up his own “Good morning” to you. Sammy liked having you as a neighbor. You were always polite and helpful. 

Whenever you’d have a cookout with your friends and family, you'd invite him and Tammi over. Of course, Tammi never came, but Sammy never let that stop him from going to eat good food. 

“Make yourself at home, Sammy. Come on, I’ll make your plate,” you said, tugging him along with you to the kitchen. As you passed by different members of your family, you would introduce them. 

“Say mane, you ain’t gone arrest us or nothin’ right?” Your uncle asked him. 

“No, sir, m’just here to enjoy some good food and company,” Sammy answers. 

“Uncle Leroy, leave my neighbor alone,” you said, laughing slightly as you pulled Sammy into the kitchen. The man watches quietly as you move around the kitchen and grab one of the long plates. 

You look up at him, “Do you eat potato salad?” 

Sammy nods, “Yeah, I do. Honestly, it all looks great, so load me up with it all.”

You chuckle, “I’ll hook you up. My dad makes the best ribs this side of town.” You navigate around the table as you pack Sammy’s plate with various foods. His mouth waters the more that you put on the plate.

But truly, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that his mouth was watering from the food. In actuality, the man can’t keep his eyes from trailing over your body. He can’t help the way that he notices the way that the shorts cling to your body, or how they rise each time you lean over the table. 

He’s a cop. He’s supposed to pay attention to the details that other people would miss, such as the fact that when your shirt lifts, he can see the faint glint from your belly button piercing. 

Or even the fact that he can tell that you just shaved your legs–as evidenced by the bandage on the side of your leg.

“You hurt yourself?”

“Huh?” 

When you turn to look at him, Sammy points to the bandage on the back of your leg. You look down at it and hum as though you forgot it was there. 

“Yeah, I nicked myself shaving this morning. You know how it is, playing host. You never really get time to yourself,” you explain, before sticking a fork in his plate. 

You pass the plate over to him, and he ignores the way that his skin tingles at the feel of your fingers brushing against his. Sammy follows you back into the party, where you both sit together at one of the tables. He takes the first bite of potato salad and nearly moans. 

The ribs are even better. 

“This is some of the best food I’ve had in a while,” He states, taking another bite of the ribs. 

You smirk, “Your wife not cooking many home meals?”

Sammy wipes his mouth and swallows down the food, “Not really. She does her best, but she’s not much of a cook. But I knew that when I married her.” He winces once the sentence is out and tries to save face, “She makes a great casserole.”

He cringes even harder at that sentence.

You laugh softly, “M’just teasing you, Sammy. Since you like the food so much, I’ll make you some to-go plates.”

Sammy takes his time to stare into your eyes. He analyzes the different shades of color present there and how your eyelashes perfectly complement your eyes. 

“I’d really like that. Thank you.”

“S’no problem.” 

You hold eye contact with him for a beat before breaking it once one of your cousins calls your name. You’re polite enough to include Sammy in the conversation. Actually, you’re great at reassuring him throughout the entire evening. 

Even when you’re teaching him to play Spades, you’re patient and calm with him. He finds himself laughing along with your family as they joke about you bringing a white boy around. 

You laugh loudly, “Y’all are gonna put some respect on my neighbor’s name. I’m not about to let y’all come for him like this.”

“Right, niece! Y’all ain’t coming for my friend. He said he's going to help me get rid of these parking tickets,” your uncle, Delmont, said, all while winking at Sammy. 

Sammy can’t help but admire how joyful and carefree you are when you’re with your family. It only makes him more attracted to you, especially with how welcoming you are. 

He stops the thoughts before they can even begin to manifest into a montage of images. If there’s one thing that Sammy Bryant doesn’t do is cheat. 

He knew his fair share of guys at the station who were messing around on their wives and girlfriends, but that had never been Sammy’s scene. 

He took the sanctity of marriage seriously. When he said those vows to Tammi, he meant every single word. So as much as he liked you, he’d never cross that line and hurt his wife. 

Because his parents raised him to be a lot of things, but a cheater wasn’t one of them. 

Even though he has his suspicions of Tammi, he still wouldn’t allow himself to ever cross that line. 

By the end of the night, as things are winding down, Sammy stands across from you in your yard with his to-go plates stacked together in a plastic bag. 

“Thank you again for inviting me and for the food,” He said, smiling shyly at you. 

“You’re welcome. Thanks for coming. You know it was really nice having you here, Sammy. You’re welcome to come to any future cookouts.”

He smiles, “Good, because I don’t think I ever want to miss out on your dad’s ribs.” Before he knows it, you’re stepping closer to him. He can practically feel the warmth of your body with how close you are. 

“Have a good night, Sammy.” He expects that to be the end of the conversation. What he doesn’t expect is for you to pull him into a hug. He can feel the increasing thumping of his heart beating against his chest at the feel of your body pressed to his. 

He tries to take a deep breath to calm his nerves, but that only worsens the situation because then he gets a big waft of your perfume. He circles his arm around your waist and pulls you more to him. 

You happen to move your head back to stare at him, and for a moment, he’s trapped within your gaze. He clears his throat and moves back. For a second, he allowed himself to visualize what it’d be like to have your lips pressed against his. 

He swallows roughly as the guilt starts to creep up into his body. He smiles awkwardly at you, “G’night.” 

You spare him one last smile before turning to walk back inside your house. Sammy follows suit and walks back to his house. When he gets inside, he spots Tammi sitting on the couch, watching TV and texting on her phone. 

“You’ve been gone all day. Thought I might have to file a missing person’s report,” She said, eyes flickering over his form and the bag in his hand. 

“No need for that. The neighbor and her family invited me to stay and eat with them. They were really nice,” Sammy responds.

Tammi hums. She’s not blind. She can see how pretty you are and the occasional glances that you spare Sammy’s way. Even just the fact that he was so excited to go to your house has her raising her eyebrows.

Sure, she’s already having an affair of her own, but something about the thought of you and Sammy together just makes her stomach queasy. However, it would absolve her of some guilt about her affair if Sammy were sleeping with you. 

Maybe he’d even be willing to look past what she’s doing in favor of his affair with you. 

The next day, Sammy’s on edge. 

He suspects more and more that Tammi is cheating on him. But it’s fully confirmed for him in that moment when he checks his to-go plates and sees that someone had eaten his ribs. 

Tammi doesn’t even like ribs. 

So who did she have in his house?

You’d noticed the change in Sammy since his divorce. At first, he was more withdrawn and isolated. You’d grown worried when you started to notice the usual softness and joy present in his face fading away. 

You were there for Sammy even when he started to push you away. You’d send over meals to his house, and he’d give you a soft smile, but you could always tell that the light had left his eyes.

It only got worse when he found out that the baby that he was so excited for wasn’t his. 

In that moment, Sammy Bryant decides to become a brand new man. As he looks in the mirror, he takes in his chubby cheeks and the slight curve of his stomach. He figures that he’ll start there.

He starts going to the gym more and being more mindful about what he eats. Soon, the weight practically falls off, and his face becomes slimmer. His jawline’s sharper, and the man that stares at him in the mirror is him…but not him at the same time. 

He likes it. And he’s not the only one. Sammy starts to garner a lot more attention from women on the regular patrols. They’d usually keep their eyes on Nate and disregard Sammy. 

But now, they flash heated looks and sugary smiles in his direction. It puts a certain pep in his step. Even as he goes to the bar with the guys, more women are pulling him to the side and suggesting that they come back to his place. 

He smiles politely and declines. 

He sips from his beer after he’d rejected yet another woman. Ben turns to him, “Jeez, Bryant, she was a real smoke show. I bet she would’ve been open to showing you a good time.” 

Sammy shrugs, “Nah, not my type.” 

Nate scoffs, “Not your type? What’s your type then? Oh, let me guess, your fine ass neighbor next door?” 

Sammy shoots him a warning look. Nate chuckles, “So, I’m right. Why don’t you just ask her out, man? She seems like she’s into you.”

“I don’t know. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Well, you’d better get a move on it. Pretty girl like that. Some guy’s bound to scoop her up soon.”

Sammy knows that he’s right. You’re a beautiful woman, and not too many men would miss their opportunity to have you on their arm. Since the divorce, he’s been watching you a lot more. 

He finally feels like it’s not a sin to look at you and imagine what it’d be like to be with you. 

Which just happens to be the case now as he watches you head out to your car. You glance up, feeling his eyes on you, “Mornin’ neighbor.”

“Morning,” Sammy replies before he starts to walk over in your direction. 

You lean against your car and give him another one of those dazzling smiles, “Long time no see, Sammy. You get a brand new look and dump me.” 

You don’t hide the fact that you’re checking him out, which he really likes. 

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t you, I swear. It’s just been a lot with the divorce and then the baby…” He trails off at the end of the sentence and swallows roughly. 

It still hurts him to talk about the fact that the baby isn’t his. A cute, chubby-faced baby that Sammy was prepared to give the world to. Even after the DNA test came back negative, he tried to make it work. It was always his dream to be a father. But as all things are with Tammi, they eventually become complicated. Her affair partner was still a constant in her life, and he obviously wanted to be a part of the kid’s life. 

So Sammy did the mature thing. 

He bowed out and left. There was no point in fighting for something that would only hurt him in the end. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry that you had to go through all of that, Sammy. Really. You’re a great guy,” You said, your expression softening. 

“Thanks, and thanks for being there. Those home-cooked meals meant more than you know.”

“You’re welcome. You know you’re always welcome over anytime,” You said.

Sammy smiles shyly. Even with his new look, he still found himself nervous around you. 

“I should go, but I’ll see you around, Sammy. Be careful.” With one last parting smile, you get into your car and drive away. Sammy watches you drive away and mentally scolds himself for not being brave enough to ask you out. 

It’s a random Friday night, and Sammy finds himself on patrol with Nate and Ben. There’s nothing too crazy besides them having to get a few sloppy drunks in line. Sammy’s eyes scan to the entrance of the club, and he stops once he spots you walking out with your friends. He lets his eye run down your figure in the way that the front of the dress dips dangerously to show the outline of your breasts. 

You look beautiful, and you’re practically glowing as you laugh loudly at something that one of your friends says. Your eyes scan your surroundings, and they automatically land on Sammy leaning against the patrol car. 

Sammy sees you say something to your friends before you start to walk in his direction. By this point, Nate and Ben have noticed you approaching them. Nate nudges Sammy, “Aye, Bryant, there goes your lady.”

Sammy rolls his eyes, but can’t stop the smile that covers his face. 

“Evening officers. Hi, neighbor,” You say, looking in Sammy’s direction. 

“Hi, uh..you look really nice. Girls’ night out?”

“Bachelorette Party, actually. My best friend’s getting married next week,” You reply, briefly glancing back at the group of women, who wave at you before making obscene gestures. Sammy chuckles at their antics. Your friends use his laughter as an excuse to come over and antagonize you finally. 

A woman with long faux locs and a sasha labelled “Bride” smirks while looking between you and Sammy. “Oh, so you must be the sexy neighbor that she won’t stop talking about.”

Your eyes widen, “Kamari!”

“Ooops, my bad. I’m a little tipsy officer, forget I said anything,” Kamari states before turning her gaze to Ben and Nate. “Hey, is it possible for you guys to handcuff me and put me in the back of the cop car?”

Your other friends laugh at Kamari’s suggestion, but truthfully, Ben and Nate are down to make her wish come true. You watch in amusement as Ben puts the cuffs around her wrists loosely as your other friend, Shay, takes pictures and videos of the moment.

You find that Sammy’s already looking at you, “Aren’t you gonna frisk me, Officer?”

Sammy smirks at the insinuation, “I don’t know, ma’am. Have you been a good girl or a bad girl tonight? I have to have reasonable cause for a search.”

You step closer and pretend to think it over, “I don’t know, Officer Bryant. I think I’ve been pretty bad tonight. I think you should cuff me and make sure that I’m not in possession of anything. You know, for the safety of the public and all?” You peer at him from beneath your lashes as you flash one of those dazzling smiles in his direction. 

“How much have you had to drink tonight, sweetheart?” He figures that it must be some sort of liquid courage if you’re openly flirting with him like this. 

“Not a lot. I’m playing designated driver tonight, so that means that I’m completely sober and in my right mind to flirt with you,” You mutter as you reach out to lightly touch his shirt. Your fingers play with the buttons of his shirt, and Sammy feels flush at having your hands on him.

From the side, Kamari stumbles, and you take a step back from Sammy. “I should get her home. It was nice seeing you, Sammy. Stay safe tonight.”

“Drive safely, sweetheart.” 

He watches you walk away, the dress clinging to each curve of your body. You throw a fleeting glance over your shoulder and wink at him before turning around. 

“She’s so into you, man. You gotta get in on that,” Ben suggests. 

For the first time in a while, Sammy figures that it’s time to make his move.

12:20 AM. 

That’s the precise time that Sammy makes it to his house. He briefly glances over to your house and clocks the fact that the lights are still on. 

He walks into his house, which is silent except for the sounds of his dog, Cooper, snoring from the couch. 

As Sammy showers, he’s suddenly hyper aware of his body and all of the different changes there. The slight pudge that used to sit over his pants is nonexistent. Even as he stands in the mirror and observes his jaw, which one lady stated “could cut through glass,” he just stares.

He starts to wonder if maybe Tammi wouldn’t have cheated on him if he looked like this. Was she turned off by his chubby cheeks or the feel of his stomach against hers when they had sex? 

Then he thinks about you. 

Never once during the times when he’d talked with you did you ever make him feel like he was disgusting. In fact, the only time that he ever felt wanted was when he was with you. 

The realization is what gives him the confidence to finally walk across the pathway as he stands in front of your door nervously. 

He readjusts his grip on the wine bottle as he raises his hand to knock. 

He lowers his hand, “What are you doing, Bryant? She’s probably asleep. What? You bring wine and then what?”

He jumps as the door opens. You stand in front of him with a wide grin on your face, “Are my eyes deceiving me, or are you talking to yourself at my front door, Sammy?”

Sammy blushes under your gaze. He awkwardly rubs his hand through his hair, “How’d you know I was at your door?” 

You take a small step forward and point to the side of the door, where a ring camera sits. 

“I saw you on my camera. The motion detector went off, and then I just kind of watched you psych yourself up at the door,” You respond, laughing. 

Sammy laughs right along with you. 

“I’m sorry. That was weird. I should probably go.” 

“Don’t be. It’s cute. Plus, you walked all this way, you might as well come in,” you states, leaning on the door. Frankly, it’s not like he walked far. Your house is literally only a few steps away, but implication is just far too sexy to resist. 

Sammy follows behind you into your house, and he takes the chance to look around. You’ve changed things around since the last time that he’s been here. It’s warm, cozy, and completely you. 

You navigate him towards the kitchen where you go to the cabinet to grab two glasses. 

He removes the cork from the wine glass, and you blatantly stare at the flex of his muscles. 

“Sorry if it’s not the good stuff,” He said, as he pours you both a glass. 

“It’s fine. I’ve become all too familiar with cheap wine, and truthfully, I kind of like it,” you reply. You usher him into the living with as you both sit side by side. You pull your feet up to rest on the couch as you stare at Sammy. 

“What brings you by this time of night, Officer Bryant?” You ask teasingly.

“ I wanted to see you.”

You smile, “I wanted to see you, too. I was hoping that you’d stop by.”

“You looked really beautiful tonight,” Sammy announces, eyes briefly flickering down to your bare legs.

“Thank you. You looked pretty hot in your uniform.”

He smiles bashfully, “Yeah? That’s seems to be the consensus among everyone these days. Guess they didn’t really like the way that I looked in the uniform back then. Nobody likes a chubby guy, you know?”

He tries to laugh at the end of the joke to take the sting away, but it still hurts. The insecurity of it all stillhurts. 

You set your glass down the table before turning to look at him. He wants to smooth the frown out of your pretty face. 

“Is that really what you think of yourself, Sammy? Don’t get me wrong, you’re hot like this, but I liked you when you had a little weight on you, too. You were fluffy.” 

Sammy chuckles, “Fluffy? Like a bunny?”

“Yeah, like a bunny. You always looked like you were good at cuddling and like you could keep a girl warm on a cold night,” you explain, your expression darkening. 

You scoot closer to him on the couch until your legs are touching his. You trail yours eyes across his form and suddenly, he just feels so naked under your gaze. 

He finds himself leaning in closer to your face, but you stop him. You stand from the couch and hold your hand out to him, “Come on, I wanna try something.” 

Sammy’s like a little puppy with how he willingly lets you lead him throughout your house. He eyes the various pictures frames that have you and your family in them. His heart is hammering against his chest as you both get closer to what he presumes is your bedroom. 

It also doesn’t help that he can feel himself hardening in the grey sweatpants. You push the door open lightly as he finally catches a full view of your room. 

The big bed sits neatly in the middle of the room, but what catches his eye more is the huge mirror that sits in front of the bed. Sammy’s mind goes to less innocent scenarios, such as you pleasuring yourself in front of the mirror. 

You turn to face his as you both stand in front of the bed. “Is it okay if I touch you, Sammy?”

He nods, wide eyes seeking your approval.

You click your tongue, “No, baby, you’re an officer, you know how important consent is.”

He swallows the saliva that fills his mouth, “Yes, you can touch me. You can do whatever you want to me, doll.”

“Good because I wanna make you feel good tonight.” Your fingers reach out to lightly squeeze the bulge that peeks through the sweatpants. He jumps in anticipation. 

Your hands grasp the edge of his shirt before you lift it above his head. The fabric falls carelessly to the floor. Sammy suddenly feels very shy under your gaze. 

You pull his body to yours with the drawstring of his sweats. You peer up at him, “I want you to kiss me, Sammy.”

He doesn’t need much else after that as he lips descend upon yours. Sammy’s lips move across yours, and it feels like he’d devouring you. But truthfully, you don’t know how much, he’s been waiting to finally touch you. 

You moan softly at the feel of his tongue sliding into your mouth. You can taste the faint hint of mint on Sammy’s tastebuds. You move your hands up to cup his face, “You know how many hours I spent thinking about this face? Sammy, I’d literally cum to the thought of sitting on your face.” 

You move your lips to the side and press a kiss to his cheek, “I was always happy whenever I’d get to see your sweet face in the morning.” 

As expected, he blushes. You slide your hands from his face down to his stomach, which is now lean with abs and a visible v-line running down. Your hands grasp the side of his waist.

“I really liked your stomach.” Sammy’s mouth goes dry as he watches you to come to stand behind him. You turn his face to the mirror, “Eyes on the mirror, baby. I want you to watch every single thing I’m doing to you.”

He watches you bite your lip through the mirror, “You wanna know what I fantasized about when it came to your stomach?”

“Tell me,” Sammy orders gruffly. 

 Your manicured hands slide down the length of his body before you dig your nails into his stomach. 

“I used to think about you and me together. I thought about you laying your body atop of mine, and you thrusting away. But you wanna know what really turned me on? I couldn’t stop thinking about your belly rubbing up against mine. It didn’t turn me off at all. Means that you’re eating good. Can I make you feel good?”

“Please,” he whimpers, as he leans back in your hold. 

You gently usher him to sit in the middle of the bed. Grasping the sides of his sweatpants, you pull them down as his dick slaps against his stomach. 

You kneeling between Sammy’s legs, staring up at him all pretty. 

“I wanna see you too,” Sammy said, softly. 

You lean back to toss your shirt over your head. Sammy’s greeted with the sight of your beautiful breasts as the air starts to harden your nipples.

“You look beautiful,” Sammy states. 

“Thank you, baby. So do you. Now let me make you feel good,” you tell him, to which he nods.

You take his length in your hands and slide your tongue across his tip to collect the precum dripping there. 

Sammy shudders in your hold. Licking up the underside of his dick, you allow your glossed lips to cover his tip. Lifting up, you swirl your tongue around like you’re licking a lollipop. 

“You taste so good, baby. Just like I knew you would.” Sammy jumps and moans loudly at the feel of you enveloping his full length into your mouth. He pulls your curly hair out of your face so that he can stare at you. 

You look at the Sammy the entire time as you move your head up and down. When you move up again, you allow a large amount of saliva to trail over Sammy’s tip before slurping it back into your mouth.

“Baby…fuck…that feels so good,” Sammy moans, his face scrunching up in pleasure. 

You moan around him at the praise and Sammy finds his hips lifting each time to meet your mouth. Quite frankly, you’re happy to see him prioritizing his own pleasure and wants. You know he deserves it after everything that Tammi put him through. 

Sammy feels the creeping of the orgasm rising in his body before he can fully comprehend it. His mind feels frazzled as he moans unabashedly in the room. He tries to push you back a little, “Baby…”

But you already know what that means, and you’re not letting your man miss out having his pleasure. Hallowing your cheeks more, Sammy moans increase as you fully submerge yourself to the base of his length, pushing your nose into the ginger hairs at the base of his dick. 

Stars burst beneath his eyes as his orgasm starts. He moans and whimpers as the ropes of cum leave him. You obediently drink him down and move up at the sheer amount of cum that floods your mouth. 

With him now out of your mouth, you point his leaking dick at your chest as the white liquid paints your breasts like a canvas. 

The last bit of Sammy’s white release trails lazily down the side of his dick. You catch the liquid before it can drop on the bed and bring it to your mouth. Sammy’s dick jumps at the sight of your wet mouth, along with your bare chest painted with him cum. 

“Come here, sweetheart,” He orders. 

You stand in front of him, bare and waiting. Sammy surprises you when he moves his face closer to your body and his tongue flicks out to swipe the cum away from your nipple. The ginger-haired man fully wraps his lips around your nipples as he sucks gently. Sammy repeats the action on your other breast before moving to lick the remaining remnants of his cum from your chest.

Once you’re cleaned up to his satisfaction, he connects his mouth to yours. You both kiss messily as the faint trace of him remains on your tongues. 

Gently laying you down on the bed, Sammy hovers above you. He presses light kisses down the length of your body. He grabs your hips in his hands as he slides your sleep shorts down your legs and discard them on your floor. 

“M’gonna make you feel good too, baby. For the next couple of days, all I want is the taste of you in my mouth,” He explains, laying down between your legs. 

Kissing up your thighs, Sammy nips at your thighs before soothing the bites over with his tongue. Truthfully, he wants to mark you. He wants to leave this bedroom knowing that some part of him is still imprinted on your body. 

Sammy pushes your legs back and is greeted with the sight of your glistening folds. Leaning down, he collects the slick that gathers at your entrance on his tongue and licks a long stripe towards your clit. 

It seems like just from that small taste, it incites Sammy to fully bury his face into your pussy. You lean up on your elbows as you watch his head move back and forth. 

Stuffing your hand into his curls, your jaw drops at the feel of the man eating you out like you were his last meal on Earth. 

“Sammy…”You moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head. How could Tammi be this stupid and give an eater like Sammy up? 

Admittedly, this is the first time that a man’s been able to bring you the edge so quickly just off of head alone. Sammy’s Bryant a dangerous man, and you’d definitely be willing to fight anyone before you gave up your best eater. 

With one last suck to your clit, you’re exploding on Sammy’s tongue. He watches as your back arches from the bed. It brings a huge sense of pride to his chest at the fact that he’s making you feel so good. 

You breathe heavily and laugh, “If I knew you were this good, I would have came to your house sooner.” 

Sammy licks his lips, tasting the remaining juices on his face. “I think we both have a lot to make up for baby.”

Leaning up, you pull his lips to yours, “Well, we can start now.” You grasp his hardened dick in his hand, “I’d love to feel you inside me.”

Reaching over to the bedside drawer, Sammy pulls out a condom and slides it over his length. 

“Yeah, baby, we got a lot to make up for.”

From that moment, you instantly become Sammy’s girl and there isn’t a thing that he won’t do for you. Sammy feels good about his relationship with you. For the first time in a while, he feels valued and less like a burden. 

Knowing that you found him attractive in every single state sent a wave of flutters throughout his chest each time. 

Naturally, the guys at the station teased him for getting a woman as beautiful as you. He’d heard his fair share of “You sure you can handle all that, Bryant?” But truthfully, Sammy had excelled at proving that he could handle you. 

The man was practically manhandling you all throughout his house. He got off on seeing just how much he could make you cum. He always kept a perceptive eye on you as he liked watching you cum, and seeing how overwhelmed you got by the orgasm. 

He liked knowing that he was the only one making you feel good. 

Even the first time that you’d let him go raw inside you, Sammy Bryant had literally turned you every way but loose. 

You still didn’t see how Tammi could ever cheat on the man when he was putting it down like this. 

Speaking of Sammy’s ex-wife, she’d started to become a rather bothersome nuisance. She’d heard around town that Sammy had started seeing a new woman. So imagine her surprise when she spots you and Sammy walking hand-in-hand in the grocery store with love sick smiles on your faces.

It’s also not lost on Tammi how good he looks. This wasn’t the same Sammy Bryant who’d divorced her months ago. 

No, he actually looked happy with you. 

She swallows down the sting of bitterness. As the saying goes, you never know what you have until it’s gone. And Tammi was surely recognizing that now. 

Sammy gets off on Friday and heads home to take off his uniform. He’d already since logged his body cam back in at the station. He parks in front of his house and walks in, just as he smells food wafting through the home. 

He smiles at the realization that you’re here and you’re cooking for him. He’d given you a key to his house pretty early on the relationship, and he didn’t regret it. As far as Sammy was concerned, he was serious about his relationship with you. 

Sure, the sex was great, but there wasn’t a moment that he didn’t enjoy spending with you. He loved the fact that he was able to get to know you on a more deeper and intimate level. 

He spots you stirring away at the stove. His eyes zero in on the pretty dress your wearing and how it rides up when you move. 

Gently walking up behind you, Sammy wraps his arms around your waist. 

“Evenin’ ma’am. I’m Officer Bryant with the LAPD. I’m here to discuss something serious with you, you might if I search your person for anything?” Sammy questions.

You smirk, you already know this is about to end with you cumming around Sammy. You turn the stove off as you turn your head slightly to the side, “Of course, Officer. May I ask what’s this about?”

“Well, ma’am, I have reasonable cause to suspect that you’re harboring something deadly on you. Now, do I have your consent to frisk you?”

You laugh lowly, which Sammy catches as he chuckles.

“I don’t know, Officer Bryant. Do you have a search warrant.?”

Sammy raises his eyebrows in amusement, “M’afraid I don’t ma’am. But I could take you down to the station and it’d be a lot longer. I think it’d be easier if you just consented here.” He trails his fingers down to the edges of your dress. 

“Okay, Officer Bryant, you have my permission,” you respond. 

Sammy navigates you away from the stove and to the the nearby counter. “Hands in front of you where I can see them, ma’am. Spread your legs for me.” 

You follow Sammy’s orders as you spread your legs more. You can already feel the panties between your legs becoming wet with freakiness of it all. 

Starting at your chest, Sammy gently pats his hands along your body. He gets to your breasts and cups them in his hands. You lean into his touch. Patting along your waist, Sammy moves his mouth close to your ear, “Have you been a good girl, sweetheart?”

“Mhmm..I’m always a good girl for you, Officer.” Sammy hums before kneeling behind you. 

He trails his hands up your legs as he reaches the hem of your dress. He pushes the fabric over your hips and whistles at the sight of your panties clinging to your wet pussy. 

“Now what do we have here, sweetheart? Is this getting you all hot and bothered?” Sammy asks, as he swipes his fingers along the damp center of your panties. 

“Tell you what, sweetheart. I’ll make a deal with you. I got a little situation going on if you catch my drift. You help me out and I’ll let you go scot free,” Sammy suggests. 

“Okay, Officer Bryant. We can do that,” You state, subtly waving your hips in his face. In response, Sammy pulls the wet material down your legs as he stuff it in the back of his pocket. 

He practically salivates at seeing how wet you are. 

Standing up behind you, Sammy unbuttons his pants and pulls them down just enough before guiding his tip to your entrance. 

You bend over more as you arch your back. You and Sammy moan in unison as he slides into you. 

“God baby, you feel so good,” he mutters against your shoulder. He has to pause due to how your warm walls encircle around him. 

Pulling back lightly, Sammy thrusts forward, which makes you let out a soft moan. He starts a steady pace as he rocks in and out of you. The man looks down at his your pussy stretches around him, and at the white creaminess that coats the base of his dick. 

You know Sammy’s watching. He’s always been a fan of looking at your bodies being connected. You start to thrust back as your ass bounces against his thrusts.

Sammy reaches around to close his hand around your throat as his movements increase. The loud sound of skin slapping fills the kitchen space. You and Sammy are so utterly lost in the moment that neither of you pays attention to the woman, who stands gobsmacked in the kitchen. 

Tammi doesn’t know what she expected to find when she came back to her former house. All day, she’d talked herself up to come back to the house. She had said that she would tell Sammy that she’d forgotten something, then being the nice guy that he is, he’d let her in. 

She expected that they talk, reminisce on the good old days before they’d talk about how much they missed each other. Them missing each other would lead to them kissing and then they’d go at each other like rabbits.

At least, that’s the scenario that Tammi planned in her head. However her plan was severely flawed from the jump. As soon as she had gotten to the house, she’d knocked and knocked. Not that you and Sammy would be able to hear over the sounds of your lovemaking. 

So Tammi got desperate and used her old key, which has led her to the current moment. Having to watch her ex-husband fuck you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever get to do. Her eyes zero in on Sammy’s hand wrapped around your throat, and how much pleasure you seem to be in. 

Tammi has to admit it to herself, Sammy’s always been a phenomenal lay and even better when it came to giving head. But as she watches him here with you, a large flare of envy creeps into her mind. 

Here you were reaping all of the good benefits of Sammy. The parts of him that she had neglected.

With one last thrust, you and Sammy moan loudly as your mutual climaxes erupt. Sammy holds your body flush to his as you can feel the white spurts of cum shooting against your womb. 

You laugh softly, “You keep cumming in me like this, Sammy, we’re gonna be picking out baby names.”

“Wouldn’t bother me, one bit, honey.”

You’re both startled at the sound of keys hitting the floor. You both look at the former Mrs. Bryant as she stands awkwardly in the doorway. 

Sammy pulls his pants up as he smooths your dress down, “Tammi, what are you doing here? How’d you even get in?”

The blonde woman blushes in embarrassment, “I was coming by to talk and I knocked, but you weren’t answering.” 

Her eyes flicker over to you, “I can see why now. You know, I always knew that you liked him. You’d look at him whenever he came out of the house. I guess you were just waiting on your chance to swoop in and steal him from me.” 

Sammy scoffs, “Oh, come off of it, Tammi. Last I checked, you cheated on me, and we’re divorced so you can stop with the whole ‘woe is me’ bullshit.”

“I just wanted to talk, Sammy. You remember when we used to do that?”

“Yeah, I do. I always remember that you used to not cheat on me either, or maybe the fact that you got pregnant with his kid. God, Tammi, nothing that I ever did was ever gonna be enough for you,” Sammy states, running a hand through his hair. You place a reassuring hand on his back. 

Tammi sees it. She also sees the way that Sammy’s body visibly relaxes in your hold. She isn’t dumb. She sees what’s going on here, and she swallows down the acidity as it crawls up her throat. 

Sammy is in love with you. 

It’s just as clear cut as it needs to be. There’s no chance of reconciliation for her and Sammy because she’d already lost his love to you. 

Even with the way that she can see Sammy grasping your fingers between his, it solidifies the moment.

“I shouldn’t have came. I’m sorry, Sammy.” 

She turns to leave the house until Sammy calls her name. She’s honestly expecting him to make some grand speech in front of you about how he would always love her and how he wants them to be friend. 

But that doesn’t come. 

Sammy holds his hand out, “I need my key back to my house.” Tammi’s eyes widen as she fishes the key from the key chain. She slides into Sammy’s hand and watches as he hands it over to you. 

“Aren’t you at least gonna walk me out, Sammy?”

You roll your eyes as Sammy huffs in annoyance. He’s about to take a step forward until you stop him, “I’ll walk her out, baby.” 

Sammy watches as you usher Tammi to the door. You both disappear around the corner. She turns to face you, “It won’t last with you two. Sammy and I have history together. He isn’t gonna throw it all away for some fling.”

You laugh, like actually downright laugh in her face. “Honey, was that for you or me? I seem to recall you threw all of your history with Sammy away for some fling. You even let him knock you up. You never deserved Sammy. He’s a great man, who you took for granted. But hey, I should be thanking you. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have him. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to go fuck my man again.” 

Before she can respond, you close the door in her face. You walk back into the kitchen where Sammy is standing. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even know she still had a key. And for the record, you’re not just a fling to me. I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.” He takes a second to pause, “I love you, sweetheart. I know it may be too soon to say this but I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you.”

That pretty smile that made Sammy fall for you covers your face. You step forward to cup his face in your hands, “I love you too, Sammy. And for the record, I like the idea of spending the rest of my life with you.” 

Sammy leans down to press his lips against yours. When he pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours, “Thank you for being here and loving me at every stage. There hasn’t been a moment where I had to wonder if I was worthy enough to be with you.”

Your eyes soften, “Sammy, I’ll always spend every moment reminding you of why you deserve the world.”

He smiles, “And I’ll make sure that I spend every moment making sure that I’m giving it to you.” 

“Good. Now, are we eating or going for another round?”

Sammy laughs loudly, “Let’s eat, then I can show you all the ways that I love you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

End.

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While you finish preparing your patient presentation for the incoming orthopedic surgeon consult on the case you’ve been working all day, Dennis Whitaker, who’s been assisting you, groans under his breath as he catches an imposing figure approaching. “Fuck, our consult’s the Shark.”

“Of course it is.” Shen, who’s been in the corner half-supervising you since he completely trusts your work as a fellow, tells Whitaker, “This kind of damage? He eats up cases like this. The Shark’s never gonna let someone else-”

You turn to both of them, hold up a hand to shut them up, and ask, “Who?”

“Dr. Brendon Park,” Shen explains like he’s telling you about an upcoming horror movie. “He’s the head orthopedic surgeon.”

“Haven’t met him yet,” you reply. Drawbacks of circumstances forcing you to change hospitals in the middle of your fellowship; you don’t know the whole team like you did back in your residency. With a final few glances through your day’s meticulous work, you wrinkle your brows and check, “I thought Torres was head of orthopedic surgery.”

“No, she’s the nice orthopedic surgeon. The Shark only deigns to come to what he calls ‘the butcher shop’ for juicy cases.” Shen shakes his head and says, “I’m gonna dip before he gets down here. I’ll grab Robby to supervise.”

“You’re leaving? Why?”

“Park can actually stand Robby.” Shen shrugs and tosses his gloves in the trash. “I made the mistake of suggesting an amputation when it was possible to salvage a limb and the Shark’s always down my throat when we work together now.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Three years.” Shen pushes the door open and says before heading over to the hub to grab Robby, “That thing you’ve heard about sharks having three-second memories? Not accurate. PTMC’s Shark never forgets. Don’t fuck up your first impression.”

Your wide eyes turn to Whitaker. “Well, that was comforting.”

Jesse, who’s been supporting you on and off when you needed more hands than just Whitaker’s, tries to offer, “Park’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, because you’re a nurse,” Whitaker replies. “He likes nurses. Respects them. It’s other doctors he thinks are stupid.”

You screw up your face with confidence and nod sharply. “Then I won’t be stupid.”

“Good luck with that,” a deep, clear voice says behind you. You turn and nearly bump into the center of a very broad chest. Very broad. With matching biceps and traps threatening at the fabric of his blue scrubs. He’s easily a whole head taller than you. And his face. Oh. Good face. Lots of masculine, rugged angles. It’s not that the ED is lacking in arm candy, but most of the doctors down here aren’t so…biteable. You’re fighting not to ogle as his voice draws your eyes back up to his mouth. Which is a nice mouth. Under a nice nose. And a heavy brow with pretty blue eyes so sharp you feel a little light-headed under their intensity. “You’re new.”

Robby slips into the room behind him and hugs the wall, posture much straighter than you’ve seen. He doesn’t look scared the way Whitaker does, but there’s a clear expectation about what the interaction’s going to be: Efficient, intense, clear. Robby says bluntly, “New fellow. Recent relocation.”

Park’s eyes narrow, taking in your pink shoelaces, perfectly applied makeup (including shimmery gloss) despite being elbows deep in the shift, and the pastel-heart-patterned long sleeve beneath your scrubs. “We haven’t met.”

You take one quick, deep breath and remind yourself there’s no reason to be scared. You don’t play hospital politics like the residents. You’re a fellow, a real goddamn doctor. This is your case. Your save. You’ve got it. So you introduce yourself with a friendly smile and explain, “I started here last month. Just haven’t had a big sexy skeletal trauma to dangle in front of you until today.”

Park cracks what almost appears to be a smirk. Committing your name and your pretty face to memory, he says, “Welcome to the team, pipsqueak. Try not to butcher any bones and we’ll get along fine.”

“No problem.” You bounce slightly on your feet. “Shall we get started here?”

His chin cocks slightly to one side. You’re not shrinking. Not bashful. You’re smiling. That’s rare. He doesn’t mind. Arms crossed over that massive chest, he orders, eyes sweeping the room, “Tell me what we’ve got.”

Whitaker looks to Robby. Robby looks to you. You nod and list off, “Mr. Jacob Westman, thirty-seven-year-old green energy tower technician, brought in by ambulance after falling from an electrical tower. Freak accident. Alert and responsive on arrival but no sensation in lower extremities. Lead doctor on the case – that’s me; I’ve been point for Mr. Westman all day – chose to sedate for pain management and stabilization once significant spinal injuries were identified. The most severe salvageable damage is in the cervical and thoracic, but I don’t necessarily agree with the interpretation from the ortho radiologist that-” Robby clears his throat to stop you there. Sheepishly, you finish, “Vitals are within safe range for operation to correct cervical and thoracic fractures and dislocations."

Robby offers, “So essentially, the approach is-”

“Hold on.” Park looks up from the chart and focuses squarely on you. “What did the radiologist say? Why did you stop there?”

You glance over at Robby, who’s shaking his head with pleading eyes. But it’s your case. You’re the one who gave up your lunch break to pore over the imaging. So you let your eyes rove back to Dr. Park’s and tell him firmly, “Your radiologist feels that the lumbar injuries causing Mr. Westman’s paralysis are completely inoperable through traditional methods. I was advised to defer to his opinion.”

Brows furrowed, he eyes you seriously. Almost…amused. Like he’s watching a puppy try a new trick. “What’s your opinion, doctor?”

Behind Park, you see Whitaker shake his head and grimace like you’ve just signed your own death certificate. Even Jesse is gripping his clipboard a little more tightly.

“I suggested that, even though it may be riskier, a series of nerve grafts and transfers could return the patient’s ability to walk.” Your voice lowers a bit and you try not to let your wobbly ‘bleeding heart baby doctor’ voice come out. “Mr. Westman is a highly-trained, highly-educated specialist in a type of engineering only a handful of people in the country can do. Work that’s absolutely critical for the development of renewable energy sources. When I was going over everything with his wife, Jenna, she told me that he loves his job more than life itself. That he would risk everything to regain use of his legs.” You swallow hard and pinch back tears. It’s something that always annoys you; whenever you really, really care about something, you start to cry. Eyes averted, you wrap up, “I know that the kind of procedure I’m suggesting would be much longer and much riskier on several levels and that it’s not at all my place to-”

Park shakes his head and cuts you off, “Show me the scans.”

You quickly brush past him to the nearby screen and blow up the images.

Dr. Park lets out a low whistle as he flips through the X-Rays, head tilted slightly as he gives the scans his full attention. He asks you a handful of questions and you answer them as best you can, all the eyes in the room burning the back of your head. You watch the wheels turning behind Park’s eyes; this is his passion, his favorite thing, his reason to wake up. You love seeing people in that state where all they’re thinking about is what they do best.

Finally, he turns to you and says, “I don’t care what your title at this hospital is. If a goddamn janitor can propose a valid surgical approach for an ‘inoperable’ injury, I want to hear it. Complex spinal reconstruction with multiple fusions, laminectomy, discectomy…fuck, ‘just-about-everything-ectomy.’ Plus nerve transfer. Now that’s sexy. I like it.” Before Robby can thank him for taking over, Park looks you up and down – just a little slow to be completely professional – and asks, “Pipsqueak, you wanna assist?”

You stand up straighter and turn your attention to Robby with wide, hopeful eyes. Looking nothing short of shocked, he nods and does a ‘sure, why not?’ type of gesture. You give a big, adorable grin and say, “Yeah, that would be awesome. I’ve always wanted to see autograft harvesting and transfer firsthand.”

Whitaker shakes his head and mutters, “Freak.”

“Go to the bathroom, eat a snack, and scrub for OR three,” Park tells you, ignoring everyone else. As you nod eagerly and excuse yourself, he slaps Robby on the back hard enough to make him stagger and mutters, “Congrats, Mike, you finally matched a competent fellow.”

Dumbfounded, Robby just says, “Ah, thanks.”

Coming out of the surgery thirteen hours later, you’re glowing like you haven’t been awake for thirty-four hours in a row. Following tight on his heels, you’re practically skipping as you beam, “Dr. Park, that was so amazing. I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity.”

“You’re good,” he says simply, walking through the halls of the surgical wing like he owns the place. “Great calls like that deserve great rewards. Would’ve given you a gold star sticker, but I’m not as soft as Robinavitch.”

“I wish Robby gave out stickers,” you reply wistfully. “That might actually convince me to stay here after my fellowship is up.”

You’re about to say something else when Park turns around and puts one baseball-glove-sized hand on your shoulder. “Unless you want to see my dick on our first day working together, you should probably stay on that side of this particular door.”

You startle backwards as you realize he’s pushing into the men’s room. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry; I sometimes kinda space out when I’m excited.”

Park lets out a laugh. An honest-to-god laugh.

He has a handsome smile.

Even though your face is now about a thousand degrees, you still nibble your lower lip, grin, and call through the door, “By the way, it’s technically our second day working together since that was an overnight surgery.”

Park’s amused, loud voice hollers back, “Go home and get some sleep, pipsqueak.”

When you clock in for your next shift two days later, Dana waves you over right after you’re done putting your things away. She says, “There’s something in your mailbox, if you’d believe it.”

“Really?” You worry a hangnail on your thumb. “Don’t tell me I’m getting served or something.”

“You? Come on, you’re Miss Bedside Manner USA.” She nods over to the doctor’s lounge and explains, “It’s from ortho. Something about that surgery you sat in on last week.”

“Huh, okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

You scurry off to your mailbox, which you’ve only even looked at once, the day you started. They’re a relic from the days of fax machines and printers. Inside your cubby is a blank, hospital-issue envelope. Upper left corner: Brendon Park, MD, FAAOS. In the middle, in his scratchy handwriting: Pipsqueak. With your lips pursed in curiosity, you rip the top of the envelope and remove the contents.

Inside a folded piece of notebook paper, there’s a card-sized sticker sheet with eight big, cutesy stickers on it. A happy sun, baby ducks, a strawberry, a stuffed bunny. All things sweet and girly. The theme is white, baby pink, sky blue, and light yellow, the same colors as the heart-patterned shirt you’d been wearing under your scrubs. In between the big stickers, a few pastel stars serve as filler.

With a little squeal, you unfold the note and read. Couldn’t find one with a gold star. Close enough. Good job. Happy you’re here.

Underneath, he’s drawn a tiny shark in lieu of a signature.

You melt – just a little.

Riding the elevator up after your lunch break, it’s kind of embarrassing how much your heart is pounding. You’re really not supposed to be doing this. It’s a total violation of protocol – not the sort that would get you in real HR trouble, but definitely the kind that could permanently piss someone off.

But you do it anyway. You gently knock on Dr. Park’s door after checking with the ortho receptionist that he’s in. He makes a sort of grunting sound that you interpret as ‘yes, what?’ Pushing the door open just enough to slip into the opening, you say, “Hi, Dr. Park. Robby asked me to page ortho down for a follow-up on the Westman case, but I thought it would be nice to ask you directly so that they could have consistency of-” When Park doesn’t even look at you, eyes staring intently at the file on his computer, you shrink into the doorway and shake your head. “Sorry; that’s silly. I’ll get back downstairs and send a page like I should’ve to stop annoying you.”

His eyes flick to yours for half a second. His eyebrows go together almost imperceptibly. “You’re not annoying me.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You bite your lower lip and stare at your shoes for a moment. Purple sneakers today, Park notices. Matching the lavender polka dots on your long sleeves. “So, yeah, if you have time today to come down and check his repeat images with me, that would be really amazing. I’m working until six, so no rush. No pressure. I know you’re really busy. And I can definitely just ask Torres if you-”

“I’ll do it,” he interrupts urgently. “Don’t ask Torres. Or anyone else. I’ve got it.” Then he adds, hasty, “Patient outcomes improve when they have a consistent care team. You’re right about that. You can come get me about Mr. Westman whenever you need to.”

At that, you absolutely beam. His eyes go to your lips. Your cupid’s bow and the way it stretches when you smile. A pretty smile, he thinks. Really pretty. You glow, “Okay, perfect, I will. Thank you.”

You linger for a second, one hand on the doorknob as you debate whether or not to say something. He hasn’t returned to his computer screen, eyes just roaming around the room and occasionally spending a second on you, so you take it as an invitation.

“I also wanted to, um, to say thanks for the stickers, by the way.” You lift your water bottle and show him the doodle-style pink star you’d picked out to grace it among your collection. “I really like them.”

“Good.” He’s tempted to lie, say it was someone else’s idea, act like he found them somewhere in the hospital, but he can’t when he’s looking at your delighted schoolgirl smile. “Saw them at Target and thought of you. It was nice to work with someone so…competent.” You swear there’s a slight blush in his cheeks, but it must be a trick of the light. It must be. Then he clears his throat and adds, “I’ll come down to see you- for Mr. Westman’s follow-up in an hour, alright? I have to finish this report and my dyslexia’s fucking killing me today.”

Physically unable to stop yourself from being helpful, you offer, “I could type it up for you, if you want.”

“I didn’t mean to tell you that,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have this disarming thing about you. It’s jarring.”

“Um, thanks?” You tilt your head like a puppy. “Are you not supposed to talk about it or something?”

He shrugs, definitely blushing now and pretending not to be, and replies, “People hear their doctor has a learning disability and get a little antsy. So if you don’t mind, keep that to yourself.”

“No problem, Dr. Park, I’m the picture of discretion,” you assure him seriously. But then you keep spilling out, “But, y’know, I actually read this study from the Royal College of Surgeons that showed people with dyslexia make better surgeons than their peers because of their well-developed spatial reasoning skills, attention to detail, and problem-solving ability – not to mention the resilience and creativity that inherently come from- Aaaand I’m word vomiting. Shoot. Sorry. It’s- it’s chronic, my word vomit. I see a specialist.”

He raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Do you now?”

“Yup. My likelihood of remission is incredibly low. Lifelong struggle, really.” You swallow hard and tell him gently, “Um, I had this undergrad student I tutored. He was in biology – pre-med – but he didn’t think he could do it because he was dyslexic. So I did a bunch of research and presented it to him. I’m not, like, one of those cool photographic memory people who remember every study on earth or something.”

“People with photographic memories freak me out,” he says with a chuckle. You wonder if you’re the only person in the ED who’s heard him laugh. More than once, even. Then he says something that actually does manage to shock you: “I’d love the help, if you have time.”

“Yay!” You do this little bouncing thing that makes his head spin. “I’m still on my lunch, so I have a few minutes.”

Voice sounding almost protective, he checks, “Did you eat?”

“Yeah, of course. But I get bored if I don’t have anything to do after my leftovers.” You scooch around his desk and slide between him and the computer, your perky ass directly in his face. With your fingers hovering over his keyboard, you lilt, “Alright, big man, what are we writing?”

It takes Park fifteen seconds to recalibrate, ten of those seconds spent memorizing the way he can see the outline of your tiny thong when you lean forward slightly, the fabric of your scrubs taut over your ass. Then he hastily stands up and puts himself behind the chair, his nosy dick safe from being seen, and says, “Why don’t you take my spot? You’ll be more comfortable.”

You shrug and sit down, throwing your head way back to look up at him with perfect, sweet blowjob eyes. “Whatever you say, Shark.”

The next time Park’s in the ED, his crush on you is completely and totally solidified. It’s horrifying, the way the feeling swirls around his stomach and makes his cheeks hot. It’s not a feeling that’s ever dared encounter him in the workplace and, honestly, not in a hell of a long time outside of it, either.

It’s because you’ve got Ogilvie backed up against a wall, your pointed finger in the center of his chest. He’s a head taller than you, even slouching, but you’re dwarfing him with your energy. Park’s never seen you so brutally animated, eyebrows knitted together and posture perfectly straight. He lingers a bit too close, hugging the corner so he can listen and watch.

Ogilvie’s hands are up in the air, waving, frustrated. “I didn’t do anything wrong! All I did was-”

“Oh my god, how many times do I have to tell you to shut up and listen to me?” With your feet planted firmly in your white sneakers with red laces and your arms crossed in your cherry-printed sleeves, you go on, “I get that I’m a woman. I get that I’m short and cute and girly. I get that you think you’re god’s gift to medicine.”

“I don’t think I’m-”

“I wasn’t done. I get that you struggle to respect me. Idiotic men often do. But let me make one thing abundantly clear: You are a slug of a man-child, James. You leave a trail of slime behind yourself in the form of problems everyone else needs to clean up, you hide whenever things get hard, and you need to blot the oil from your T-zone so you’re less shiny. And invest in a frizz-control shampoo.” While Park stifles a snorting laugh, you go on with the most pointed, cruel voice he’s ever heard from a woman so painfully adorable, “If you ever speak to me like that again, you will envy the corpses you practice on. All you will do clinically is change infected necrotic dressings and disimpact bowels and every other moment of your day will be dedicated to administrative scut so monotonous it makes your vision blurry. I will ask to have you on my service every day just so I can torture you until you question your entire career path. Do we have an understanding?”

Ogilvie is too stunned to speak for thirty seconds straight. Then he swallows and stammers out, “Yes, doctor. I- I understand.”

You nod tightly and add, “I’d like an apology now.”

“I’m sorry,” he says right away. It sounds more afraid than earnest, but that’ll get the job done. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.”

“Good. I forgive you.” Then you give him a warm, friendly smile and a pat on the head that you have to rock up onto your toes to execute fully. “Now let’s get back to Mrs. Andrews so you can get another lumbar puncture under your belt before your next evaluation, alright?”

Ogilvie manages to get out, “Thanks,” before you turn around and lead him back to the ED. He looks like a scolded toddler, lip pouted and cheeks red, while you have that familiar unshakeable pep in your step.

And Brendon Park is smitten.

The next week, as you’re sending off a list of prescriptions, you hear Langdon’s voice from the other side of the ED. “Sharkbait, get over here!”

You turn toward Langdon and point at yourself. “Me?”

His eyes are big and begging. “Yeah, c’mon, I need you.”

“I have work to do, Frank.”

“Please?” He clasps his hands in front of his chest like a prayer. “Park’s going to kill me when he sees the state of these ribs.”

Exasperated, you cut back, “What the hell does that have to do with me?”

“You’re Sharkbait,” he replies, mimicking your expression. “When you’re in the room, he’s less of a dick.”

Several craving any time with Brendon, you roll your eyes and stomp over, telling him, “I’ll give you five minutes. Get me up to speed.”

He runs through the patient history with you while you gently palpate the chest.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe as you feel the myriad of fractures all over the ribcage and sternum. “LUCAS?”

“On an elderly osteoporosis patient. Dumbass firefighter meatheads.” He shakes his head and mutters, “It’s basically a bag of bone soup in there.”

“Sounds promising,” Park announces, always knowing when to cut into a conversation. When he sees you, he sighs in relief, “Pipsqueak, thank god you’re on this, too. I don’t have the patience for dealing with Ken on my own today.”

As Langdon talks to Park with you just sort of standing there as an emotion diffuser, Santos and Whitaker watch in wonder from the hub.

Trinity, whose last interaction with the Shark ended with him saying she should switch to a career with no skeletons involved, scoffs and murmurs, “Why hasn’t he ripped her head off? She’s brand new; she doesn’t know how to placate him.”

“Her aura powers are unknown to us,” Whitaker mutters back. “She has some kind of sorcery ability incomprehensible to the masses.”

“I mean, she has nice tits,” Trinity reasons. “She’s smart. Made some good calls in front of him.”

Whitaker argues, “Baran’s brilliant and has great tits. He called her an imbecile last week.”

Amused, Trinity raises her eyebrows. “You think Dr. Al-Hashimi has great tits?”

“Not the point.” A minute later, Park leaves the room with a smile in your direction. You swish over to the hub to grab a new chart and Dennis asks, “What’s the deal with you and the Shark?”

Humming gently, you ask him absently, “What do you mean?”

Trinity cuts in to reply for them both, “Well, I mean, he likes you. Are you two fucking?”

Your eyes startle wide at the idea – tantalizing but impossibly far away. Park is so wildly out of your league you can barely entertain the thought. “What? No! Of course not. Brendon’s not as bad as you guys think. You just have to get to know him.”

Trinity mouths to Whitaker, Brendon?

Whitaker shrugs, baffled, and then muses as the three of you watch Park head toward the OR, “I didn’t realize that was a possibility.”

You chuckle and tease, “Maybe try being a better doctor next time?”

“Brutal, Sharkbait. Brutal.”

That weekend, the Pittsburgh Penguins hosts its annual Medical Worker Appreciation Night. Because Dana’s been nominated as a spotlighted nurse, the hospital sprung for discounted tickets in the name of staff morale.

Robby shepherds you and the other newer ED staff who’d gotten their hands on a ticket down to the PTMC section. When he checks seats, pointing everyone in the right direction, he frowns at yours. “Kid, do you wanna trade spots with me?”

Your brows furrow. “What? Why?”

“Look.”

Your eyes follow Robby’s pointing chin. At the end of the long row, Park’s perched on the edge of his seat, staring down the players doing warmups. He’s wearing a black Penguins hoodie, a black Penguins hat, and a pair of jeans that his meaty thighs battle for dominance with. You’ve never seen him outside of scrubs and it’s becoming a problem very quickly. You shrug and tell Robby, “I don’t mind.”

“You sure?”

“We get along great, actually.”

“That explains the new nickname,” he chuckles under his breath. “I figured it was because you’re a sacrificial lamb.”

Park catches your eyes and waves you over, his lips flirting with the concept of a smile. He can’t bear to say it out loud, can barely even tolerate the thought in his own head, but he’d looked over the seating chart on the HR receptionist’s computer and basically threatened Ogilvie’s life to switch with him (and then swore him to secrecy on similar conditions).

You plop down next to him and nudge him in the bicep. “Hi, Bren, I didn’t think you came to things like this.”

Bren. Nobody’s used a nickname besides ‘Shark’ for him in decades. He shrugs like his heart rate isn’t picking up at the way your arm has to touch his because of how broad he is. “It’s hockey.”

“It’s team bonding,” you tease. “You hate bonding. And teams that aren’t sports.”

“But I like free Pens tickets,” he replies simply. Then he notices your outfit. You’re wearing pants, at least – leggings, because fuck him, he figures – but your arms are agonizingly bare from the elbows down, your yellow tee not doing much to protect your skin. He frowns and asks, “Did you bring a jacket or something? You’re gonna freeze to death in here.”

You shake your head. “It’s not that cold; I’ll be okay.”

“Give it a period.”

“I’m not on my- Oh. They’re called periods in hockey?”

Biting back a mean joke because of your sweet, innocent eyes, he says, “Yeah. Periods. Three twenty-minute periods with intermissions between.

“You’re gonna have to explain everything to me,” you say as you stare at the different parts of the stadium. “I’m not from a hockey town.”

“I don’t mind,” he admits after a second. He adds carefully, “I never get to talk hockey outside of work.”

“No gym buddies to gab with?”

“No gym buddies,” he confirms.

“That’s shocking, considering the biceps of it all.” And the pecs you would honestly motorboat. And the big veiny hands. And the thick thighs you could bounce on for hours. You swallow hard, thankful you don’t have a dick to give away your thoughts. “Are you one of those douchey guys who puts in his AirPods and focuses on his form in the mirror? Oh my god, do you film yourself so you can make sure you-”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he laughs, raising his hands in defeat. “You’ve got me pegged, sweetheart. I have to be strong because I crack femurs all day. And you have to focus on form if you want to get strong and don’t want to get hurt.”

“So no time for gym buddies.” You lilt, sweet and easy, “Maybe you can show me some time. I could use a little more muscle and a little less-”

“No, you definitely don’t need ‘less’ anything,” he protests way too quickly as his mouth goes dry. He can barely tolerate the sight of you in leggings this close to him; he’d burst a blood vessel if you were in bike shorts and a sports bra like his brain immediately supplies. With his neck going splotchy pink, he course corrects, “Lifting isn’t about losing weight or visible muscle. It’s about building practical strength.”

And your body is fucking perfect. If you wanted to change it out of insecurity, he’d drop to his knees and kiss your feet until you realized you shouldn’t change a thing. Your thighs are just the right thickness, your ass downright juicy, your stomach spectacularly soft, your breasts-

Park sucks in a sharp, deep breath and shakes out the thoughts. “I’m gonna grab something to eat before the game starts. Can I get you anything?”

After a second of thinking, you ask sweetly, “Do they have cheese fries?”

“They have every disgusting, greasy sports food you could ever want,” he confirms. “I’ll be right back with some goodies.”

You occupy yourself by playing social butterfly, introducing yourself to everyone you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. When Park returns, he takes a second to admire you running around spreading your sunshine. Then you return to his side and squeal when you see a mountain of loaded cheese fries that make your mouth water in the best way.

Before sitting down to share them with you, Park shoves a folded garment into your arms. “Put this on. I won’t be able to focus on the game if you’re shivering next to me the whole time.”

“Aw, Bren, thank you.” Your voice borders on a whimper as you unfold the classic lacer pullover, black with yellow and tan bars around the lower hem and arms, the iconic penguin himself at the center of the chest. “Just let me know how much I owe you for it – at least for half.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up; it’s a gift.”

“Okay, thank you so much, that’s so sweet, but the suggestion to shut up is incredibly offensive given I disclosed my word vomit diagnosis to you,” you reply seriously, glaring at him.

Park clutches his chest and tells you, “I apologize for making light of your vulnerability with me.”

“I forgive you because of the cheese fries.” You examine the back of the thick, cozy hoodie and observe, “Crosby. Is he your favorite? Or just the cheapest sweater?”

Park smirks (it’s the most expensive sweater) and replies, “Sid the Kid. Best player Pittsburgh’s ever had. Best player in the league, if you ask anyone with a brain. Rumor has it he’s retiring soon; I think that’ll be my first true heartbreak.”

You balk at the idea. “You’ve never had your heart broken? I get my heart broken ten times a month.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You go on that many dates?”

“No, no, no, no dates,” you quickly reply. Too quickly. A little desperately. “But it breaks my heart when I see sad puppy commercials or old people eating alone at restaurants or trailers for romantic dramas at the movies. One time I cried because I could only find one of my favorite socks. I tried and I tried but the second one was just…gone. I couldn’t look at the single one without getting so sad it was hard to-”

“Team introduction’s starting, then the national anthem,” he interrupts gently. Reluctantly. Like he’s actually invested in your rambling. “Put a lid on the word vomit for ten minutes and I’m all yours for a full sock eulogy.”

You giggle and salute as the whole stadium stands. “Yes, sir.”

He rolls his shoulders and pretends that doesn’t go straight to his dick. When you cheer extra loud for Sidney Crosby as he skates to center, jumping a tiny bit like your smile is too big to hold in your body, Park damn near swoons. He wants to sling his arm around your waist and pull you into him, to kiss the top of your head, to, fuck, put you on his shoulders and parade you around or something. He can’t even name everything he wants to do with and to and for you. It’s agony.

Once the game starts, Park takes care to make sure you understand what’s going on. “That’s Ovechkin. You’re gonna see one hell of a game. He’s Crosby’s biggest rival.”

“So we hate him,” you reply obediently. “Got it.”

He smiles at you and confirms, “Yeah, we hate him. Mostly because he’s really fucking good.”

You nudge him with your shoulder and tease, “That’s why people hate you, so it’s good company.”

He barks out a laugh. “Is that why?”

“That or because you never show off that handsome smile.”

With a pout, he counters, “I smile plenty.”

“He said, frowning.”

“I’ll smile when the Pens win,” he promises.

But, despite his best efforts, he does, actually, get caught smiling before the end of the game. In a big, obnoxious way. After the end of the second period, with the game tied 1-1, you watch the kiss cam flying around the arena with dopey heart eyes so precious Brendon can’t rip his eyes away from you. It’s too cute of an expression not to memorize.

You don’t notice he’s staring, too wrapped up in loving to see people in love, until his face lights up the big screen. You’re so shocked that you don’t process just how bright and intent his eyes are, his lips soft and slightly upturned, everything about his expression and posture screaming ‘god, she’s beautiful, isn’t she?’ It’s the kind of expression kiss cam operators gravitate toward; only men who adore their girls look like that.

Before he can even truly realize that it’s you and him on screen, his eyes widening, you grab him and plant a big fat shimmery lip gloss kiss on his cheek. Then you grin, following it up by blowing a kiss and winking to the camera.

And Brendon Park smiles wide enough to power the whole arena, the apples of his cheek glowing neon pink and he drops his eyes and shakes his head in delight.

The video is immediately saved and sent to the ED group chat by none other than Trinity Santos, naturally. One of the nurses proceeds to forward it to the nurses chat, where it makes its way to the ortho chat. By the time the camera even pans away, the moment has been forever cemented in PTMC history as the first time Park the Shark has smiled earnestly – innocently, even – in front of his coworkers.

Only the whoops, cheers, and laughs from your nearby ED coworkers drops him back onto earth from cloud nine. Park frowns as he rubs his cheek with a napkin, pouting, “You got lipgloss on my face.”

“What was I supposed to do?” You gesture to Trinity and Whitaker, who are pumping their fists in their air victoriously. “Leave my adoring fans hanging?”

With a sheepish wave in their direction to get them to fuck off, he mutters, “I think you’ve permanently damaged my tough guy reputation.”

But you just reply in a sing-sony voice, “You didn’t have to blush.”

“Involuntary response to relevant stimulus.”

“Whatever you say, big guy.”

If he’s honest with himself, his smile isn’t half as bright when the Penguins win an hour later. It only warms back up to critical heat when you wrap him in a hug, gleefully jumping up and down as the puck hits the net right as the buzzer goes off. He’d kiss you for real if you weren’t surrounded by the PTMC staff.

Still, with your arms around the back of his neck, he can’t resist doing something. So he keeps it simple and asks, “It’s been a while since those cheese fries; want to grab dinner with me?”

When you say yes, his heart sings.

After the hockey game, there’s a definite shift in your friendship with Brendon. It’s more playful. Less guarded. The two of you grab dinner together after your shifts whenever Park doesn’t have a late surgery and, if you miss out on dinner, he insists on coffee in the morning. He tells you about his personal life and you do the same, not that it’s hard on your end. Gradually, you start to notice the differences that everyone else in the ED picked up on months and months ago. The way his face goes from hardened to soft when he sees you entering a room. The way his texts have emojis instead of periods. The way he accepts your hugs instead of turning them into handshakes.

Right when you’ve gotten up your confidence to actually ask him out, you overhear him and Robby talking in hushed tones inside Park’s office. The door’s cracked and you’d come up specifically to ask him to go out with you in a few days on Saturday because you both actually have a weekend off.

With an X-Ray in hand, Robby pushes, “Are you sure you can’t do the revision yourself on Sunday? I know you’re not scheduled to be here, but the family trusts you now, and it might be-”

“I told you, man, I’m surprising my girlfriend on Sunday. I’ve been sitting on these ballet tickets for weeks already and I don’t do shit like that,” Park tells him sternly. No room for argument. “You’re in good hands with Torres; she’s as good as me any day – maybe better since people actually like her.”

You don’t wait for Robby’s response. Losing your ability to breathe, you scamper to the nearby staircase and start stamping your way down to the ED. Your heart shatters into a thousand pieces. No, a million. They fall down the stairs like glass, so heavy you’re surprised you can’t hear them echoing.

Stopping just shy of the ED entrance, you tuck yourself away underneath the staircase to catch your breath, trying not to let yourself cry. Park’s just one of those guys, you figure. Guys with ultra-secure girlfriends who don’t care if they have female friends who drool all over their biceps. Guys who don’t mention their ultra-secure girlfriends because they know what they have at home and they probably don’t even realize you’re flirting because they’re so enamored with their great, successful, probably gorgeous girlfriend who knows exactly what she’s doing in bed and always satisfies him and-

There are the tears.

Feelings of inadequacy and sadness well up and spill over. It’s hard to keep your sniffles and sobs quiet enough not to draw attention when all you want is to ugly sob over a tub of ice cream and your favorite movie. Only one more hour in your shift. You can make it. Right?

Upstairs, you hear the door squeak open and heavy footsteps traipse down toward you. Familiar footsteps. Of course. He probably saw you running away from his office and is coming to find you because you have the luck of a worm after a rainstorm.

When Park comes closer, he spots your elbow sticking out from behind the staircase. Hiding. You’re still crying, unable to stop yourself until you get it all out. Silently, yes, but with puffy eyes and tiny whimpers and sniffles that escape every once in a while. Tucked up underneath the staircase, you blot at your cheeks with the sleeve of your daisy-patterned turtleneck.

Rage devours Brendon’s insides. He beelines for you and demands with a level of anger in his eyes you’ve never seen before, “What’s wrong? Did someone make you cry?”

“No, no, I’m fine.” You try a shaky smile and wipe your face again even though more tears just fall in their wake. “Just, um, I’m on my period and I’m emotional.”

Which isn’t not true. It’s the last day or two and you are emotional. It’s definitely not helping the situation. Park’s a little taken aback you admitted that so freely, but he’s a doctor, dammit, so he doesn’t let it faze him. Instead he offers, “Okay, well, um, do you, ah, do you need anything? I have some ibuprofen in my office if-”

You start crying harder, ugly sobs now at how nice he’s being when he just unintentionally and unknowingly turned you into a 12-year-old girl having her first heartbreak.

Park stammers, unsure how to deal with this situation. “Okay, ah, maybe just a hug, then?”

You nod ardently and he pulls you close with his strong arms. You nestle your face in his chest and breathe deep. If this is the closest you’re gonna get to having him, you’re gonna milk it for all it’s worth. With your nose pressed to his muscles as you start to calm down, you whimper, “You smell really good.”

Still tentative, Brendon murmurs, “It’s Dior. My mom bought it for me.”

Then you start crying even more.

That night, after making some lazy excuse to Brendon for why you can’t get dinner like usual, you curl up on your couch and vow to set some darn boundaries with the guy. You’re only going to get yourself hurt if you indulge in dinners and coffees and stolen gazes and elevator conversations. So you put his messages on silent, only returning them when you actually have a second instead of carving out time. You make a point of ducking into other rooms when you know he’s coming down for a consult, ignoring the desperate calls for Sharkbait from your hapless coworkers.

And by the time you’re clocked out on Friday night, you almost feel better about the situation. Well, that’s a lie. You actually don’t feel better at all. If anything, you feel much, much worse because you don’t have your best friend to hang out with anymore. You’re going to have to resort to drinks with the Pittlings if you don’t find another attending soon.

But at least you have the weekend to wallow.

Walking to your bus stop with Celine Dion blasting in your ears, you try to focus on the pretty sunset and the wins of the shift instead of letting your brain drift to-

Fuck.

Brendon’s standing at your bus stop with his stance wide and his arms crossed like a bodyguard, forearms looking extra delectable in the sunset. He’s not a hallucination from your lovesick mind nor a hologram designed to trip you up on the way home.

You scurry up to him with averted eyes and ask, “What are you doing here? You drive a Rolls-Royce.”

“Yeah, and that Spectre is my damn baby, but you take the bus when you’re ignoring my offer for rides. So here I am.” His eyes drill through your forehead and your resolve. “Can we talk now?”

Weakly, you mutter back, “My bus is in five minutes.”

“You’re not taking the bus. I’m driving you.” The firmness of his voice makes your knees wobble. He nods over his shoulder toward the small park next to the hospital. “We’re talking. Come on.”

Then he takes your hand – you want to throw up – and leads you through the park entrance to a shaded spot under a tree where the light makes his chiseled features agonizingly beautiful. Like a fucking Roman marble sculpture. He doesn’t wait for you to say anything, instead taking charge and launching in, “What’s going on with you? Why have you been ignoring me the last few days? If I did something to hurt you, tell me and I’ll fix it. I know I’m a dumbass about the feelings stuff sometimes, a lot of the time, but I’m not going to mess shit up with you, so you have to let me know what I need to do better.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” you whimper. You hate how pathetic you sound. How downtrodden and heartbroken. But Brendon looks hurt, too, which makes you feel ten times as bad. So you rush out a hasty version of the truth, “I came up to your office on Wednesday to ask you on a date this weekend, but then- then I heard you telling Robby about your girlfriend who you’re surprising on Sunday and it just, like, crushed me so bad even though I know it was so silly for me to think I’d ever have a chance with someone like you in the first place since you’re this sexy strong surgeon and I’m so not but I thought maybe in the last couple months-”

“Woah, pipsqueak, hey.” Brendon cups your cheek in his hand to cut you off once the shock of your words wears off. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Unable to meet his eyes, you start to feel the tears coming. Dammit. You stare at your pink sneakers – the same ones you were wearing when the two of you met, you realize – and let them fall to the ground. After a minute, you manage to admit, “I just- I don’t think I can be this close to you if you have a girlfriend. It’s great that she’s so cool about you having female friends, but I’m just so sensitive and I know that’s not your fault but-”

“Hold on.” Brendon places both hands on your shoulders, staring at you like you’re an alien making first contact. Baffled beyond his wildest dreams, he explains slowly, “You’re my girlfriend.”

Between sniffles and shaky breaths, you whimper out, unable to process anything, “Huh?”

“My girlfriend. Who I’m surprising on Sunday. That would be you.”

Now it’s your turn to go catatonic, eyes wide and shimmery. “What are you talking about?”

“I asked you out to dinner after the hockey game,” he tells you, exasperated in the cutest way you’ve ever seen. Like you’re dumb but like maybe he’s also dumb. “I paid for your dinner. I insisted you get dessert. The whole thing. And we- Sweetheart, what do you think all the dinners we eat together are? Why else would I always be inviting you for coffee? Why would I always pay? I don’t just dump a couple hundred bucks a week on casual coworkers.”

Starting to feel silly instead of sad, you cover your laugh and protest, “I don’t know; I thought you were being friendly! You make $500,000 a year; you should be paying for all your friends’ coffees!”

“$650,000, actually, I have a sub-specialty in pediatric surgery,” he replies as though you wouldn’t drop your panties right here in the park. “More importantly, I am the least friendly person in the entire hospital. Maybe the entire city.” He runs a hand through his hair and replies a bit bashfully, “I kind of figured you like that about me or we wouldn’t be dating.”

The last two months recontextualize in your head in rapid succession. Little moments appear lit up by neon lights that blare, HEY DUMBASS! Brendon tied your shoes last week instead of telling you they were loose, dropping down on his knees right outside the ED where anyone could see just to make sure you wouldn’t trip. He always takes your backpack from your shoulders before walking you to the parking garage and opening the door of his gorgeous navy blue sedan for you. Even the way he looked at you at the hockey game.

God, you’re an idiot.

With your lips parted and your eyes rapidly blinking, you come up with a new protest: “You’ve never even tried to kiss me, Brendon. What the fuck? You should be kissing me all the time! You could’ve been jumping my bones ever since the hockey game; that would’ve made things pretty clear to me!”

“Jumping your bones?” He suppresses a laugh since you’re still flustered. He just kind of scoffs and explains with a shrug, “I guess I’m still old-school about that. A gentleman. I wasn’t picking up signals that you wanted me to, y’know, make a big move. Figured we should take it slow. I mean, you’re new to Pittsburgh, you’ve had some big life changes. And I have a history of being too, ah, too intense for some women. I didn’t want to mess that up with you.”

“That’s actually really sweet, Bren,” you reply, sniffling back tears. Waving a hand in front of your face to cool down your burning cheeks, you pinch your eyebrows together and point out, “Okay, well, then we never did, like, a ‘what are we?’ talk.”

“That’s because I’m 38 years old,” he replies bluntly. “When I’m with my woman, she has my full attention. My devotion. Everything. I don’t need to have that talk.”

My woman. The phrase makes you feel kinda bubbly like soda. You smack him on the chest and poke him, “Clearly you do, dummy!”

After you nudge him, Park catches your hand in his, fingers enveloping yours. Fuck, his hands are so big and sturdy. Then his eyes soften and he kisses your fingers. He leans down slightly to make better eye contact. “Okay, I’ll have that talk if you want it.” Crystal clear, blue eyes positively sparkling with amusement and adoration, he asks, “Would you like to be my very, very official girlfriend?”

You let out an absolute squeal. It’s delighted and silly and so cute his stomach turns. God, how did a girl like you get your claws in him? When you throw your arms around his neck and he spins you around, he doesn’t care why or how. He just cares that the first words out of your mouth are, “Yes, of course, obviously.” You nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder, feet barely touching the ground, and murmur against his ear, “This is my favorite night ever.”

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, princess,” he assures as he sets you down on your own balance. Then he holds your face in his palm and finally bends down to kiss you properly.

But you stop him with your pointer finger in his lips, his eyes widening. “No, no, no, I can’t have our first kiss be when I’m all puffy and snotty from crying.”

He gives a pretend growl but concedes, “Fair enough. Whatever you want. C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Before he turns away, though, you step on your very tippy toes (and then some) and kiss his forehead before asking so sweetly, “How about you come over tomorrow? I know we already have plans Sunday – by the way, I really love the ballet, so good job – but maybe we should have a first date that I know is a first date beforehand?”

“Yeah, of course,” he replies wistfully, still feeling your lips on his skin. On his thick fucking skull. “I’ll go anywhere you ask me.”

Like you asked, Brendon knocks on your door at 3PM sharp. You promised to entertain him and make him dinner and he could absolutely care less about any of the details beyond getting to be with you like he craves. He’d agonized over what to wear to an embarrassing extent, nearly caving and texting his mother for her approval. But that would be a fate worse than death, so he settles on dark jeans rolled at the ankle and a black tee because a little old lady told him he looked hunky when he wore them to the pharmacy a few weeks ago.

You answer the door wearing nothing but the oversized Penguins sweater he bought you, a pair of panties he can barely see under it, and knee-high socks.

Park’s pupils dilate.

In that one look, you can finally see why they call him Shark. He’s a predator latching onto you, ready to devour you alive. You take a step back and he steps forward like you’re pulling him by a string attached to his gut. He doesn’t even notice himself closing and locking the door, too fixated on the expanse of your legs and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo on your chest. He tentatively puts one hand on your waist and sighs reverently, “Yup, this is the singular sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You look away from him, bashful under his praise: “Well, y’know, I wanted to surprise my boyfriend since he’s planning on surprising me tomorrow.” Then your attempt at a sultry voice goes away and is replaced by your usual glittery one when you see that he’s carrying a bouquet of pastel pink, soft orange, and angel white gerberas in the hand not touching you. “Brenny, did you get me flowers?”

‘Brenny’ might be too far, but he can’t bear to tell you that. You could call him anything and he’d accept it. He lifts the flowers up and offers them to you. “Um, yes. Is that still romantic or is it really, really lame now?”

“Still romantic,” you assure him with misty eyes, taking the bouquet and skipping away toward the kitchen.

Brendon toes off his shoes and follows you into the house, not surprised to find the place decked out in pastel colors and soft fabrics and dreamy artwork. You dig through your cabinets to find a porcelain vase you thrifted years ago and arrange the flowers inside of it.

As you place them on the windowsill, you give him a soft gaze, softer than any he’s been on the receiving side of. “This is the sweetest thing any man’s ever done for me.”

Brendon pulls you into a warm embrace, holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger, and says, “Baby, you’re about to have your bar raised, because flowers are the least you deserve.” When your lips part into a shy smile, he asks, “Can I kiss you now?”

You nod eagerly and rock up onto your toes, tilting your chin to get as close to him as possible. Brendon’s gentle, boyish smile makes your heart pound in your throat in the moments before he closes the gap. He takes a second to admire the slopes of your face when you’re gazing up at him like he means something.

And then he kisses you.

It’s eager and bright, the way you kiss after prom night. You have to fight not to smile when he holds your face between both hands, so much desire in his touch that you can feel his resolve to take it slow with you melting away.

Suddenly, at the sound of you giggling for only a second, Brendon’s arms loop around your back. Before you know it, he’s lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. You hop up, knowing he’ll catch you, and lock your legs around his hips. When you feel his smooth, cold belt buckle against your panties, you gasp out a moan at the contact.

Brendon chuckles and buries his forehead in the crook of your neck. He groans quietly, “Baby, you can’t make all those little sounds or you’re gonna kill me.”

Breathless, you tease back, “Then you definitely can’t call me baby.”

He smirks, kisses you again, and asks in a lower and more pointed voice, “Where’s your bedroom, baby?”

“It’s right upstairs; if you wanna put me down, I can-”

He shakes his head and keeps you balanced firmly in his arms, walking back toward the staircase. “No point in having these muscles if my girl ever has to touch the ground again.”

As he carries you up the stairs so easily that you’re turning into a person made more of giggles than anything else, you ask him, “Are you gonna carry me around from patient to patient forever?”

“If that’s what you want,” he replies with a laugh as he pushes through your bedroom door. Guiding you down onto the bed, which you’ve meticulously made, Brendon murmurs against the pulse point just beneath your ear, “I’ll give you everything you want, kitten.”

At the tender pet name, you can’t help but moan, encouraging him to touch you as he pins you to the bed just by virtue of how big his body is. He pulls back and gazes down at you so gently. Your heartbeat is slow again, comfortable, safe, but the heat between your legs is undeniable.

Brendon lowers himself down to kiss you once more. The energy between you shifts in that kiss, like he’s become painfully aware of being in your bedroom, your body pliant beneath him, your eyes full of trust and adoration he hasn’t experienced in years. His kiss is slow and sweet and simple. He shifts onto his side so one of his hands can cradle your cheek while the other gingerly takes your waist. You can tell he’s being painfully careful with you, his gentle touch revealing a certain level of fear – that he’ll hurt you or break you or scare you off.

So you reach forward and twine your fingers in the short hair at the base of his neck, gently scratching his scalp, and press your body against his. One leg thrown over his hip so that he can feel the heat of your barely clothed cunt. You arch your back and wiggle a tiny bit so that his hand almost has to move to your ass. He chuckles into the kiss and that makes you whimper. But he doesn’t do more, doesn’t grab or push or demand.

You pull back an inch, stare at him seriously, and murmur, “You’re not gonna break me, Bren.”

Mischief flickers in his blue eyes. He knows perfectly well what you’re asking, even if he’s tentative to give it to you. “What are you trying to say, sweetheart? Use your words.”

Mimicking his own voice, you bat your lashes and offer, “What’s the point in having those muscles if you don’t throw your girl around a little? C’mon, Shark, I know you’re not a shy lover.” You sit up just enough to reach down and lift the hockey sweater up and over your head. Underneath, you’ve got a black lace unlined bra, filled out only by the weight of your breasts, and it’s absolutely sinful. “Touch me like you mean it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, this is one hell of a surprise,” he rasps as he grabs your tits through the fabric, a rough sting buzzing through your body. The sight of his hands against the lace flips the switch in his mind and he’s hunting for blood in the water. “I didn’t know you owned anything black.”

As he pinches your nipples, mean and certain, the fabric of the lace adding a scratchy friction, you gasp, “It’s a special occasion.”

“Yeah?” His hands run down toward your thighs, kneading the thickness of your waist and hips with a greed that approaches true obsession. You lose the ability to think when he bends down and bites the side of your waist, his teeth quickly becoming less and less gentle as your moans get louder and louder. “What’s so special?”

You can only whimper as he roughly manhandles you upwards so that he can unhook your bra, using only one hand. Fucking surgeons. All you can think about is what else those hands of his can do. You’ve noticed how thick his fingers are a million times and now you might actually get to feel them the way you want.

Brendon can see the lust laid bare over you, chest rising and falling faster, eyes wide and waiting, skin prickled with goosebumps. Hooking his fingers beneath the edges of your panties and pulling them down, he teases, “Out of words now, pretty girl?”

You take five seconds to breathe, swallow hard, and order, “Take your clothes off.”

He throws his head back and grins. “Good choice of words.”

While you prop yourself on your elbows for a better view, Brendon steps off the bed and tugs his shirt off first. He even does that thing buff guys do where he pulls it off by the back, his arm muscles offensively large as he reveals his abs. His muscles are less defined than they are sturdy, built not like an Abercrombie model but more like a lumberjack or, y’know, a fridge. The way his obliques cut down into his hips is downright pornographic.

You let out a long breath. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Perfectly and completely aware, he gives you a hunky grin. “What? Something wrong?”

You bite your lower lip and physically try to stop yourself from staring, but you just keep failing. Because he’s your boyfriend. Sitting on the edge of the bed now, gradually drawing closer to him like a magnet, you attempt to tease, “Are you always this much of a cocky bastard about your hot bod?”

“My hot bod?” His hands go to his belt and he slowly removes it. Then, once he’s stepped out of his jeans and you’re blinded by the outline of his, yes, proportionally long and thick cock against his black boxer briefs, he says, “Yeah, I always am.”

Eyes greedily drinking down every inch of his body and imagining all the ways you could play with it, you manage to mumble out, “You should be.”

God, he even makes taking off his underwear hot. It must be those damn thighs. Or the everything else. With your eyes trained squarely on his fat cock, mouth actually watering, Brendon steps toward and lifts your chin. “Like what you see, princess?”

With that same confident smirk on his lips, he takes your small hand and wraps it around his shaft. Suddenly you get the whole ‘beer-can-sized-dick’ thing you’ve read in way too much erotica because you can’t close your hand around his girth. “Oh.”

“What? Bigger than you thought? You intimidated?”

“Honey, I think everyone you’ve ever met knows you have a big dick.” Your eyes flick up to his playfully. “And I’m definitely not intimidated.”

“Really?”

“You’ve never intimidated me. Not like you do everyone else.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m so into you.” As you smile coyly, Brendon thrusts between your fingers, watching every miniscule change in your expression – which is rapidly growing less patient. He cups your cheek with his hand and asks, “Want a taste?”

You open your mouth. Obedient, immediate. When his tip touches your tongue, you eagerly lap up a sticky drop of precum and then take him between your lips. Brendon has to grip your headboard hard to tolerate the sight of you sucking him with such a precious, adoring, sweet look in your eyes. It feels like you’re thanking him with your mouth, making the prettiest damn noises for him to memorize and play on repeat.

When you lift your hand to gently tug and roll his balls, Brendon hangs his head and groans, loud and low, gravelly in a way that tickles the back of your mind. “Fuck, baby, that’s- that’s perfect.” Your happy hum in reply makes his toes curl into the carpet. “Jesus, you drive me crazy, you know that? I’ve never been this obsessed with someone.”

You pull off him and beam, lips shiny and slightly swollen now. “Really?”

Brendon pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you, easily maneuvering you so that your head’s back on the pillows and his hands are on either side of your face. He kisses you hard, claiming, and says, “It’s actually become a huge problem for me. You’re all I can think about.”

You giggle breathlessly and ask, “Is that a complaint?”

“Mmm. There’s that little laugh of yours. That’s how you got me,” he groans before kissing you again. “I made some stupid goddamn joke during surgery and the whole team was exhausted but you laughed. Just like that. And I was done for.”

You cover your face, embarrassed and delighted all at once, and remember, “Then I said you have a cutting-edge sense of humor.”

“And I thought that was funny,” he goes on with a fond chuckle. His hands have never stopped roaming over your body, playing with your breasts or digging into your hips. “You’re so gorgeous and perfect I thought that was funny. You don’t even realize how deep you’ve got your hooks in me, baby.”

Biting your lip, you try to come up with something to say to match his sudden deep sweetness, but he stops you from being able to think at all. His lips drag down your neck, biting and kissing in equal measure until you’re squirming and bucking under him. Then, just beneath your ear, he growls, “Can I leave marks?”

The sound you make is nothing short of pathetic. You clutch the back of his head, tugging his hair a bit to push his teeth against your neck, and whine, “Please.”

“Yeah?” He’s grinning, now, but he can’t bear to let you see. “Want the whole world to know you’re mine now?” You whimper and nod, tilting your head to the side to give him better access.  He murmurs, “Good girl.”

Fuck, you’re soaked.

As Brendon sucks hard over your pulse, branding you with the dark shape of his kiss, his right hand goes between your legs, pushing them apart. Two of his thick fingers dip between your folds to collect your wetness before smearing it over your clit. “All this for me? You’re easy to work up.”

You laugh and tuck your forehead into his bicep. “Are you surprised?”

“Not even a little,” he chuckles. Making sure to kiss you and hold you as his fingers work firm circles around your clit, Brendon purrs, “I’ve thought about all the sounds you must make a thousand times. How you must be so enthusiastic to be a good girl. You’re so easy for me to read; I knew I could get you off better than anyone else.”

You nod against his arm and moan when he finds just the right tempo on your clit, his fingers ridiculously skilled. “Just like that.”

“Whatever you need, sweet girl,” he assures, listening to you and keeping his fingers exactly the way they are. Methodical.

“Brendon,” you gasp as your pussy pulses wantingly around nothing, “I really need you to fuck me.”

“I love the enthusiasm, kitten, but I’m not gonna hurt you,” he replies simply. Reluctantly. There’s a tenderness to his voice that shouldn’t fit with his harsh attitude and masculine features, but it does. It’s him, beneath everything he shows the rest of the world. He drops down between your legs and nuzzles loving kisses over your sensitive inner thighs, worshipping into your skin, “If I’m gonna fuck you to sleep tonight, then I can’t leave you sore from the first time. Let me make you cum before I’m inside you, kitten. Can you be good and do that?”

With your eyebrows knitted together and sweat on your brow, you nod and whine, “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” he tells you. It’s insane that a man being offensively cocky with all those smirks and chuckles is so hot. He leans back, sitting between your legs, and begins to plunge his fingers inside of you. Just his two middle fingers have to be as thick as any dildo you’ve used before. He bends at the waist so he can keep biting and sucking on your body, the most brutal on your nipples but sure to get ample coverage over your waist and stomach and hips. When he feels you clamping down tight around him, the pleasure so much you can’t come up with any response besides your body’s natural reactions, he teases lightly, “Careful, baby, my hands are my livelihood.”

Eyes large and glassy, you breathe, “Sorry about that.”

Brendon’s thumb goes to your clit and your walls tighten again. This time, he doesn’t tease you. He works your clit intently, trying to find what he’d found before, and doesn’t rest until he’s right there. Your delicious gasp gives him all the cue he needs. With his thumb flat and firm, he rubs your clit in time with his fingers curling back toward himself. His eyes focus on your expression, each detail, and he’s addicted to your every sound and twitch.

“There you go,” he praises while your pussy tightens up slowly, threatening to snap into sparkles. “That’s right. Just trust me. All I want is to make you feel good.

Your orgasm bursts like waves against a hull, building and building until it crashes over you, rocking your gravity and stealing your breath. Brendon’s there with you through it, his blue eyes a lighthouse, his stupid smirk your shore. His free hand holds you down by the hip as he lets you enjoy the fluttery aftershocks, not quite forcing you into overstimulation but not letting up until you’ve had as much as you can take.

When you’re finally completely breathless and satiated, Brendon slowly withdraws his fingers and then licks them clean. He leans down for a moment and laps at your inner thighs, tasting your tart juices and salty skin. Your hips buck instinctively when he presses one tiny kiss to your clit and then laughs at your reaction, breath ghosting down your hot cunt. With his slick-wet hand, he fists his cock and asks, “How do you want me, sweetheart?”

You take a few seconds to think and admire the view before asking, “Can I ride you? Whenever I’ve fantasized about us having sex, that’s what I’m doing.”

“You can do literally whatever you want to me, baby,” he reminds you as he reclines on the bed next to you. He steals one more kiss from you before you start moving to your knees, collecting your balance. “What exactly do you fantasize about?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you reply as you climb into his lap, hands going straight to grabbing his pecs with your nails digging deliciously into the flesh, “but you have these giant fucking tits I’d like to fondle.” Then, as he laughs, you rub your sloppy cunt up and down his shaft, watching his eyes close and hearing his breath go shaky with lust. “I wanna see your arms when you hold onto my hips and thrust up into me. Wanna feel how strong your thighs are underneath me.”

Brendon shakes his head and snickers, “Wow, I had no idea how much you were going to objectify my muscles.”

“Shut up; yes, you did.”

You roll your eyes and sink down on him, nice and slow, savoring the way he has to resist slamming up to meet you.

He groans, hands finding purchase on the curve of your waist, “Yeah, you’re right.”

You’re completely forgotten how to talk. The stretch of him is divine. Everything you’d imagined and then some. You have to be careful not to get too eager too fast because his length is definitely enough to bruise your cervix if you aren’t gentle with yourself while your pussy adjusts to him. Which is sad, considering the only thing you’ve ever wanted in life all of a sudden is to bounce on Park the Shark’s huge cock until you pass out.

Instead, you slowly rock back and forth, your hands flush on his pecs, with your eyes pinched shut and your mouth falling open. Brendon reaches up to hold your chin, forcing you to open your eyes, and checks softly, “Too much? We can slow down and-”

“Shut up,” you order breathily. He smiles, puts his hands behind his head a moment, and enjoys the view of you being a tiny bit bossy. “Feels so fucking good, I promise. Not too much. Just- just- Jesus.”

“Well, they do say he was hung.”

Your laugh is addictively adorable, sounding almost sleepy from the enormous effort of acclimating to him. “You’re so awful.”

Dragging his hands down and resting them on your ass, he coos back, “And you’re sooooo into it.”

When he gives you a quick upward thrust, your response turns into a squeak, “Yeah.”

From there, Brendon helps you out. He knows he’s not exactly an easy man to take in this position – beyond the size of his cock, his thighs and glutes are so well-developed that your knees don’t even reach the mattress on either side of his hips – so he holds you in place and rolls his hips up into yours, slow and precise.

Once he can tell you’re getting comfortable, breaths easy and moans tumbling out again, he murmurs, “How about you touch yourself?”

Eyebrows knitted together, you sigh, “Already so much, Bren.”

Purposefully missing the point, he sighs back, “I guess I can do it for you, princess.”

When his thumb goes to your clit, your nails dig into his chest. Mean pink half moons rise in their wake, but you can’t stop yourself – and he doesn’t mind. So stretched out, your pussy pulses more than it clamps down, each contraction a fluttery thing that’s somehow more intense than the last. He’s grinning to himself as he feels your orgasm approaching fast. You’re so relaxed with him that he can control your pleasure with the ease of a decades-long lover. He’s going to have to teach you to be less trusting, maybe teach you to fight, but right now all he wants is for you to yield to him completely.

You cum with a long, drawn-out whine, sweat shiny on your hairline, and Brendon has to take over completely as your thighs twitch and falter. It’s impossible to hold yourself up through the roiling pleasure that overtakes you in a deluge. Your wetness drips down his balls and onto your bed and you’re not sure you’ve ever been this soaked from how much a partner’s turned you on and worked you up.

“Aw, my sweet baby,” he purrs as you fight to stay upright, your thighs burning for relief in the wake of your second orgasm, “trying so hard to keep up.”

While you let out tiny, cute whimpers, Brendon pulls out slowly and stands up, ignoring your complaining whine at the lack of contact. He goes to your bedside table and muses, “Let’s see what we have here.” Your cheeks burn as he thumbs through your admittedly maybe-too-ample sex toy collection. Taking out your baby blue silicone mini wand, Brendon grins. “Hot, young, single doctor – knew I’d find some goodies in here.”

You’re totally gone by now, anything but your desire to be with him gone out the window, and he can tell. It’s his favorite thing in the world. When he says, “get on your knees for me,” your brain is so mush for him that you do it without a single thought or word, presenting your ass beautifully with a placid smile on your lips.

Brendon yanks your hips back so that he can stand at the foot of your bed – which means he can use all his strength to handle you. Lining up the thick, angry red tip, he tenderly rubs your ass and says, “Tell me if you want more.”

All you can do is nod. Usually he’d press you for words just to hear you beg, but the eye contact you make is full of so much pleading that there’s no need for further clarity. You really are so sensitive; there are tears of pleasure and need brimming at your waterline.

“Don’t worry that sweet little head of yours,” he practically growls as his cock slowly fills you deeper than he’d been able to get without being in total control, “I’m gonna take care of you, princess. Gonna keep this pretty pussy stuffed. Gonna make sure you get everything you need. I promise.”

Gripping your pillow tight as you once again adjust to his thickness, you nod and sniffle, “Thank you, Bren.”

“There she is,” he teases as he starts to slam into you. Each time he bottoms out, it comes with a weak, needy cry. “That’s my sensitive girl. Love that about you.”

“That I’m a crybaby?”

He picks up speed at the word and all it means to him. You’re never prettier than with tears running down your cheeks, making your eyes shiny and your lips wobbly. “You know how much of a confidence boost it is making you cry because of how good you feel?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, princess, I fucking love it.” Brendon flicks the vibrating wand onto its lowest setting and reaching one huge arm around your body to press it to your clit. Your corresponding moan turns into a screaming sob, loud and messy and violently sexy. It’s completely overwhelming and consuming. The way your face contorts from the intensity sends Brendon’s thrusts into overdrive, almost putting all his force into it now. As sweat falls from his forehead onto your back, he urges, “Let it out. Let it all out for me. I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.”

And you weep.

The catharsis of his cock christening you takes over. You’ve cried during sex before, yeah (of course), but this is different. It feels like pure relief and connection. Your mind is totally present in your body, feeling every single place of contact where Brendon’s sweating skin slides against yours. The vibrator between your legs is making you shake in his arms, but you trust him to hold you up, to give you what you need, to take you through exactly what he wants to give you.

“C’mon, honey, focus, you can do one more, I promise,” Brendon grunts when he starts to feel your pussy weakly squeezing him again. He didn’t think he could get you to this point your first time together, but, if he can, he’s not going to stop.

He leans over your body, mounting you now, primal and animalistic, and wraps his elbow around your neck. The gesture pulls your cunt tight to him and snaps your head back, forcing you to take a deep breath that lights your brain up. Tears slip constantly out of your eyes and Brendon’s drunk on the sniffles and whimpers and moans that choke out of your thickened throat. You drunkenly kiss his arm as it muffles over your mouth.

Then you bite him.

Brendon’s hips stutter and his balls tighten up. You bite him again and again. And you’re not screwing around with it. Your teeth are ravenous on his flush, cutting in nearly enough to draw blood. You’re so thoughtless that you’re just going for whatever’s been put in front of your mouth; it’s irrelevant that it’s your boyfriend’s flesh.

“There it is,” Brendon groans, the pain of your bites sending him spiraling out into a new height of pleasure. “I can feel it coming on. Don’t you dare hold back, baby. Show me how much you can take. Give me another one and I’ll fill you up. I know what’s what you want, isn’t it?”

You nod without releasing his arm from your mouth. Drool spills from the sides of your lips, mixing with your tears, and you’re hurtling into the orgasm more than it’s welling up within you. The thought that really does it, though, isn’t Brendon’s encouragement or the vibrator unrelentingly stimulating your clit. No. It’s the idea that Brendon’s going to cum inside of you. Even on birth control, it’s a sign that he’s claiming you completely, making you his, being totally naked with you in every sense.

Bliss blows your brains out like a volcano finally giving into the pressure. Brendon holds you tight against him with his free hand, so tight that his thrusts are short and deep. The final few, he grinds into you, totally enveloped in your cunt, letting himself feel each millimeter as it grabs down on him and milks it out. When his cum coats your walls, both of you collapse onto the bed into gasping breaths.

Brendon kisses and kisses your shoulders while he goes soft inside of your pussy, gently pulling your chew toy away and shaking it out because it fucking kills in the most satisfying way possible. He makes a mental note to buy himself a long-sleeve to wear to work as he admires the egregious display of total horny thoughtlessness from the cutesy, angelic doctor.

He sits up and then murmurs, rubbing your back softly, “I’m gonna carry you to the bathroom to get you cleaned up, okay?”

You nod lazily, eyes half-lidded. You make no effort to help him, which only makes him smile to himself and shake his head. He’d do anything for you already. Cradling you like a baby, he pushes open the bathroom door with his foot and hits the light with his elbow. He’s absolutely done for. Setting you down on the toilet, he orders, “Go pee, baby. No UTIs allowed.”

Under normal circumstances, you definitely wouldn’t be able to pee in front of your boyfriend and you would definitely be mortified by the mere thought. But you’re so relaxed. Your whole brain is like a nice cozy hot tub, warm and bubbly and nothing to worry about. So you do as he instructs without question, some part of your brain acknowledging that he’s correct.

Brendon leans down on his knees, a posture that would be condescending in most situations but is nothing but adoring right now, and suggests, “Now, you said you were gonna cook, but how does delivery on my tab sound? We can get pizza.”

You give a hazy smile and nod. “That’s so nice, Brenny.”

“We’re gonna have to talk about that nickname,” he chuckles, booping the tip of your nose.

You pout out your lower lip. “I’m gonna call you whatever I want.”

“Yeah, alright, tough guy.”

“Mmm.” You lean up to kiss him. “Good boy.”

Brendon laughs and then stands up to fiddle with the handles of your shower until he’s happy with the temperature. Then he guides you to your feet and brings you under the water, not too hot or too cold on your over-sensitive skin. You’re glad you went for the house with the rain shower when you moved, both of you fitting comfortably beneath the stream at the same time. For a while, he just holds you, hands roaming up and down your back, as he kisses the top of your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs quietly, barely audible above the running water. “You’re gonna turn me into such a softie.”

You giggle, “Or you’re gonna make me a big mean gym bro.”

Brendon shakes his head and reaches for your shampoo. “Maybe we stick to our current roles.”

“I think they suit us,” you agree as he squirts some into his palm and orders you to turn around. With his fingers working devotion into your scalp, you hum gently under your breath and trust him to hold you up. During the course of the shower, you gradually come back to life. Once you’re sudsing his abs with your lufah, maybe being a touch too thorough by going over every spot with your hands, you lilt,  “You fucked my brains out. I didn’t know that was actually a thing.”

“I did set a high bar for myself,” he concedes with a self-satisfied laugh, “but I’m guessing it’s only gonna get better from here.”

You stand on your toes and kiss him. “Does this mean we’re doing paperwork when we go back to the hospital?”

“I love paperwork,” he tells you, mock serious. He chuckles and whistles, “My first time to HR for something besides another doctor filing a complaint because I hurt their precious feelings by ensuring my patients get the highest quality care possible.”

“Big bad scary Park the Shark,” you agree as you turn off the water. You gently brush his cheek and coo, “My softie.”

Brendon rolls his eyes affectionately, shakes out his hair, and steps out, grabbing a towel and wrapping you up in it before taking one for himself. With a towel hanging low on his hips, he’s scrumptious enough to have your mind wandering toward round two even though your body wouldn’t even consider cooperating for a few more hours.

You head over to the mirror for your moisturizer and catch a glimpse of yourself with clear eyes for the first time since your sex brain turned off. Looking at the myriad of bite marks littered over your body, the flesh swollen and indented, you laugh, “Jesus, now I know why they call you Shark.”

“Yeah?” Park bares his left forearm to you, the one that had been in your face while he destroyed your cunt, to show off an absolute minefield of neon pink bites, some deep enough that they’re bruising already. Your eyes widen with guilt, but he quickly yanks you close and kisses you hard, nothing but lust and gratitude on his lips. He nips your neck and teases, “They’re gonna have to start calling you Sharkette.”

You lay sprawled on your back in the middle, chest still heaving as you came down from the high of your last orgasm. Your thighs trembled faintly, muscles sore in the best way and you could feel the warm, slow trickle of their combined release leaking out of you onto the ruined sheets.

Steve was glued to your left side, his massive, muscular frame taking up more than half the tiny mattress. His broad chest pressed against your arm, one thick arm draped heavily across your waist, fingers lazily tracing little hearts on the curve of your hip. His blond hair was a sweaty mess, sticking to his forehead and his baby-blue eyes were half-lidded with satisfaction.

Bucky claimed your right side like he owned it, one thick, powerful thigh thrown possessively over both of your legs, pinning you in place. His fingers rested just below your navel, right above where you were still tender, swollen and leaking their mess.

“Fuck, baby,” Bucky murmured, his voice gravel-rough and low against your ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell. “You took us so goddamn well tonight. Like you were made for it. That tight little pussy squeezed us both so perfect… swallowing every inch, every drop. Greedy girl.”

You hummed happily, too blissed out for full sentences. Your body felt deliciously used, thighs sticky with drying cum, lips swollen from kissing and sucking, neck and breasts covered in little love bites and fingerprints. Steve nuzzled into your hair, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, his breath warm and steady.

“You still with us, sweetheart?” Steve asked, voice warm and gentle, the same tone he used when he watched you study for exams during the late nights in the dorm. He nuzzled into your hair and pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Mhm.” You smiled lazily, tilting your head to kiss the sharp line of his jaw. Then you turned the other way, catching Bucky’s mouth in a slow, lazy kiss. His tongue slid against yours, unhurried now, tasting like sin and the faint hint of the cheap whiskey the three of you had shared earlier. They both smelled like sex and you. The realization made something warm and possessive bloom deep in your chest.

For a while, only the sound of your combined breathing and the occasional wet shift of sweaty skin filled the small dorm room. The ceiling fan spun uselessly overhead, doing nothing to cut through the thick, filthy atmosphere. Outside, the distant sounds of a Friday night party echoed from another floor, laughter, bass-heavy music but in here, the world had narrowed to just the three of you.

That’s when the thought bubbled up, unbidden but insistent after weeks of watching them together, playful wrestling in the quad, shared glances, the easy intimacy of two men who had known each other since forever.

You trailed your fingers down Steve’s broad, sculpted chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart, then over to Bucky’s side, tracing the raised lines of old scars from a motorcycle accident he’d told you about once. Your voice came out soft, a little shy but curious. “You two… Have you ever… done anything together? Just the two of you?”

The silence was immediate and heavy.

Steve’s hand froze on your hip. Bucky lifted his head, arm shifting as his sharp blue eyes narrowed slightly, studying your face.

“Together?” Bucky echoed carefully, voice still husky from earlier moans.

“Yeah. Like… sexually,” you admitted, cheeks warming even after everything you’d just done. “I was just curious. You’re so close. It’s hot to think about sometimes.”

Steve let out a low, surprised chuckle that vibrated through his chest. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with a mix of amusement and something darker flickering in his gaze. “Baby, no. Never. We’ve been best friends since we were awkward freshmen sharing a shoebox room in the dorms. Not like that. Though I gotta admit… the way you’re looking at us right now is making me wonder what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“Fuck no,” Bucky agreed, but his thigh tightened possessively over yours, pressing you deeper into the mattress. His fingers drifted lower, teasing through the mess between your legs, spreading it lazily. “Steve’s basically my brother. We’ve never crossed that line. We’ve shared a lot- food, clothes, even girls back in sophomore year- but never each other. Why, tutor girl? You got a dirty little fantasy brewing?”

You bit your lip, squirming under their combined attention. The casual way Bucky’s fingers kept playing with their cum, pushing some of it back inside you, made heat pool low in your belly again. “I don’t know… you’re both so you. Big, strong, protective. And you’re both mine now. It just popped into my head. Watching you two wrestle on the couch last weekend… the way you pin each other down. It made me think about what it would look like if you pinned each other for… other reasons.”

Steve’s hand slid up to cup your breast, thumb brushing lazily over your sensitive nipple. “You want to watch us together… or do you want us to try it right here, with you between us?” His voice had dropped, low and rough. “Be honest, sweetheart. No judgment. Not after what we just did to you in this tiny bed.”

Bucky smirked against your neck, nipping at a fresh hickey he’d left earlier. “You imagining me on my knees for golden boy here? Or Stevie bending me over your desk while you watch and touch yourself?” His fingers pressed deeper, two of them sliding into your slick, used cunt with obscene ease, curling just right. “Because I gotta say… the idea of making you lose your mind while we figure it out is kinda doing it for me.”

You gasped, hips twitching. “Maybe… all of it. I just think it would be so fucking hot. You two are already so in sync when you’re inside me. The way you coordinate, like you can read each other’s minds. Imagine if that extended to… touching. Kissing. More.”

Steve groaned softly, his cock twitching against your thigh where it was already starting to harden again. “Jesus, baby. You really are filthy under all those good-girl study sessions.” He leaned in, kissing you deep and slow, tongue claiming your mouth while Bucky’s fingers continued their lazy thrusting. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark. “We’ve never done it. But for you? I’d consider it. Only if Buck’s on board.”

Bucky’s smirk widened into something predatory. He withdrew his fingers and brought them to your lips, letting you taste the three of you mixed together. “You want a show, doll? Want to see your boys cross that line for the first time while you’re still dripping our cum?” He glanced over at Steve, the look between them charged now, testing. “What do you say, punk? Think you could handle my mouth on that big dick of yours while our girl watches?”

Steve’s breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand tightened on your waist. “Only if you can take it as good as she does, jerk.” He looked back down at you, voice rough with fresh arousal. “This what you wanted, sweetheart? To turn your innocent curiosity into us ruining each other while we ruin you all over again?”

You nodded eagerly, heart racing as the energy in the room shifted from satisfied afterglow into something even filthier. “Yes. Please. I want to see it. I want to be part of it.”

Bucky chuckled darkly, already moving, his metal hand guiding your thigh wider. “Then spread those legs wider, baby. We’re just getting started. College is for experimenting, right?”

The three of you tangled together again, laughter mixing with moans as hands began to wander between all three bodies, boundaries blurring under the glow of the fairy lights. The wrecked dorm bed creaked beneath you, and the night was far from over.

You reached up cupping both their jaws, Steve’s smooth, strong jaw on one side, Bucky’s stubbled one on the other. Your voice came out breathy and sweet, eyes wide with lust and affection.

“I want to see you kiss.”

The air in the tiny dorm room went electric, thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and the faint laundry detergent from the sheets they’d wrecked hours ago.

Steve’s eyebrows shot up for half a second, but then that golden-boy smirk spread across his face, slow and cocky as hell. He leaned down, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip. “Oh yeah? You wanna see us kiss, sweetheart? Thought you’d never ask.” His baby blues sparkled with confidence, the same one that made half the campus swoon during his games.

Bucky let out a low, filthy chuckle right beside him, fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip. “Fuck, doll. Been waiting for you to say that. You think we’re just gonna be all shy about it? Nah. We’ll give you a show. Make it real pretty for our greedy little tutor.” He winked, voice dripping with that Brooklyn swagger, like he’d been planning this for weeks instead of hearing it for the first time.

You bit your lip, thighs pressing together at their sudden bravado. “Yeah? You’re both so sure?”

“Baby,” Steve drawled, already shifting higher on his knees, chest puffed out, “we’ve been through worse than a kiss. This is gonna be hot. You’re about to see why they call us the dream team.” He shot Bucky a look, all challenge and heat.

Bucky grinned, sharp and predatory, crawling closer until their shoulders bumped. “Damn right. C’mere, punk. Let’s give our girl what she wants.”

They leaned in like they owned the moment, cocky, sure, mouths hovering with that practiced ease they used on you. You held your breath, pussy still fluttering from the way they’d tag-teamed you earlier, bodies buzzing with anticipation.

But the second their lips actually met…

Steve pulled back first, blinking hard. “Wait- shit. That felt… weird.”

Bucky jerked away too, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes wide. “Jesus, what did you put on your lips?”

Steve blinked with a confused little laugh, still half-leaning over you. “Wha- I used one of her lip balms earlier. My lips were chappy after that long practice in the wind, alright? It’s just strawberry-”

“Dude,” Bucky groaned, making a face like he’d bitten into a lemon. He wiped his mouth again, dramatically. “Strawberries and regret, Rogers. What the hell? Tastes like you made out with a fruit salad and then rolled around in her vanilla body spray. This is weird as shit.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed bright pink under his messy blond hair. He rubbed the back of his neck, that cocky grin completely gone. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad. You’ve eaten worse things off my plate in the dining hall. Remember that tuna melt incident sophomore year?”

You giggled beneath them, the sound bubbling up despite the ache between your legs. They looked so big and ridiculous up there- two massive, naked guys suddenly awkward as teenagers.

Bucky groaned, dramatic as ever, dropping his forehead to Steve’s shoulder for a second. “This is your fault, doll. We were cocky two seconds ago and now I feel like I’m kissing my damn brother. Or worse.”

Steve shoved him lightly, but he was laughing too, the sound warm and boyish. “You’re one to talk, Buck. Your stubble’s like sandpaper. And you still taste like that cheap whiskey from the party earlier. We’re really doing this?”

You stroked their thighs, heart melting and core throbbing at the same time. “You two are the cutest idiots alive. Please? Try again? For me?”

Bucky sighed, long and theatrical, but his cock was already twitching back to life against your thigh. “Fine. But only because you look at us like that. And you’re buying us breakfast tomorrow. The good diner, not the crappy campus one.”

Steve nodded, still pink-cheeked but determined. “Yeah. For her.”

The second attempt was pure comedy. Noses bumped. Bucky tilted left when Steve went right. Their lips barely brushed before both men pulled away again, muttering curses.

“Fuck, that was worse than the time we tried double-teaming that chem lab project,” Bucky complained, wiping his mouth.

“You kiss like you’re afraid of commitment, Barnes,” Steve shot back, but his ears were red. “All teeth and no game.”

You were laughing so hard tears pricked your eyes, but your hand had slipped between your legs without thinking, rubbing slow circles over your swollen clit at the sight of them, flustered, naked, bickering like an old married couple while their bodies stayed hard and ready for you.

“Third time’s the charm?” you whispered, voice husky. “I’ll make it so worth it. That tiny black skirt you both like… no panties… all weekend.”

That got their attention. Bucky’s eyes darkened. “You drive a hard bargain, minx.”

This time they committed. Steve cupped the back of Bucky’s neck, firm and steady, and pulled him in. Their mouths met properly, soft at first, testing. Then Steve tilted his head, deepening it with a surprised, low groan that went straight to your pussy. Bucky made a wrecked noise in his throat and pushed forward, fingers digging into Steve’s broad shoulder.

It turned hungry fast. Tongues slid together, wet and exploratory, the obscene sound of lips smacking and heavy breathing filling the cramped dorm room. Steve’s hand landed on your stomach, warm and possessive, thumb stroking your skin as he kissed his best friend like he was starving. Bucky’s free hand found your breast, pinching your nipple just right while his mouth stayed locked with Steve’s.

You whimpered loudly, fingers speeding up on your clit.

That flipped the switch completely.

The awkwardness burned away in the heat. They kissed harder above you, chests brushing, muscles flexing and gleaming with sweat. Bucky’s hand trailed lower, thick fingers sliding through the cum still leaking from your well-fucked pussy, pushing two inside you easily alongside Steve’s. Steve broke the kiss just long enough to growl against Bucky’s lips, “She’s clenching so fucking hard already. Our dirty girl loves this.”

Bucky laughed breathlessly into Steve’s mouth, nipping his bottom lip hard enough to make Steve hiss. “Told you she was filthy. Look at her- rubbing that pretty clit while we make out like horny idiots.” He stroked deeper, curling his fingers just right while Steve’s thumb found your clit, taking over with slow, perfect pressure.

You moaned, arching up, free hand reaching to wrap around Steve’s thick cock. It was fully hard again, heavy and hot in your palm. Bucky noticed and grinned wickedly against Steve’s lips. “She wants more, punk. Touch me while you kiss me. Give her the full show.”

Steve didn’t hesitate this time. His big hand wrapped around Bucky’s cock, stroking him in time with the fingers fucking you. The three of you moved together, messy, filthy, perfect. Their kisses grew sloppy, tongues visibly tangling, spit-slick lips shining under the cheap dorm lamp. Every moan they shared vibrated through their bodies and into yours.

“Fuck, your hand feels different,” Bucky muttered, hips rocking forward into Steve’s grip. “Bigger. Rougher.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, jerk,” Steve replied, voice wrecked as he kissed him deeper, tongue fucking into Bucky’s mouth while his fingers scissored inside you. “You’re leaking all over my fist. She’s got us both so worked up.”

You came the first time like that, shaking, crying out their names as their combined fingers and the sight of them devouring each other sent you flying. They didn’t stop kissing through it, only slowing their hands to work you through the aftershocks, trading soft, lingering pecks mixed with filthy whispers.

When you came down, they were both staring at you with matching expressions: soft affection mixed with raw hunger.

“Best fucking girlfriend in the world,” Steve murmured, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then your lips, tasting like Bucky.

Bucky kissed you next, deeper, then pulled Steve back in for another slow, exploratory kiss right above your face. “She’s still dripping. Think she wants round two of the show while we fuck her again?”

You nodded frantically, glowing. “Kiss each other the whole time. I want to feel it when you do.”

They obliged. Steve slid back inside your pussy first, thick and perfect, stretching you open with a shared groan. Bucky positioned himself behind Steve, one hand on Steve’s hip, the other reaching around to stroke you where you were joined. But they kept kissing, messy, open-mouthed, tongues sliding as Steve started thrusting slow and deep.

The dorm bed creaked under all three of you. Bucky’s cock rubbed against Steve’s ass and your thigh with every movement, leaving wet streaks. Their moans mixed, Steve’s deep and rumbling, Bucky’s rough and edged with that Brooklyn accent. Every time their tongues met, Steve’s hips snapped harder, driving you closer to the edge again.

“God, she’s so tight when we do this,” Steve panted against Bucky’s mouth. “Feel her, Buck- put your fingers in with me.”

Bucky did, stretching you even fuller while they made out sloppily above you. You came a second time, vision whiting out, clenching around both of them as their kisses turned almost violent with need.

They kept going like that for what felt like hours, switching positions, trading who was inside you, but never stopping the kisses for long. Bucky fucked you from behind while Steve knelt in front, feeding you his cock and kissing Bucky over your shoulder. Then Steve took you missionary again, Bucky straddling your chest so you could suck him while they leaned in and kissed each other right above your face, spit and moans raining down.

Filthy comments kept spilling out between kisses:

“His mouth is actually fucking addictive,” Bucky admitted, laughing breathlessly as Steve sucked on his tongue.

“Told you I was good at everything, asshole,” Steve shot back, then bit Bucky’s lip and made him moan loud enough to probably wake the neighbors.

You lost count of your orgasms. By the end, all three of you were a sweaty, cum-covered mess tangled in the sheets. Steve and Bucky finally collapsed on either side of you, still trading lazy, soft kisses across your body, your breasts, your neck, your lips before meeting in the middle again just because you asked.

“Love you idiots so much,” you whispered, voice hoarse and happy.

Bucky nuzzled into your neck, then kissed Steve once more, slow and sweet this time. “Love you more, doll. Even if kissing this punk still feels kinda weird in the best way.”

Steve smiled, soft and sated, pulling both of you closer. “Worth every awkward second. Round three?”

You grinned. “Only if you keep kissing.”

The three of you eventually collapsed again in a sweaty, sticky pile, still buzzing with endorphins and laughter. The tiny dorm bed creaked under your combined weight as Steve reluctantly untangled himself to grab water bottles from your mini-fridge. Bucky stayed behind, lazily stroking his fingers up and down your thigh, tracing little patterns through the mess still leaking out of you.

When Steve came back, balancing three bottles, he bumped clumsily into the edge of the bed and knocked over a small cardboard box you’d stashed underneath weeks ago. A couple of worn, well-loved magazines spilled out across the floor.

You sat up on your elbows, eyes widening. “Wait… you still have those?”

Bucky glanced over and barked out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. “Shit. Our old Playboy collection. I thought we lost those during the move. Looks like they found a new home under our girl’s bed.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, equal parts embarrassed and amused, his cheeks flushing that adorable pink again. “We were like nineteen and horny as hell, okay? Don’t judge us, sweetheart. It was before you tamed us.”

You reached down and picked one up, flipping it open with shaky fingers. The glossy pages showed beautiful, barely-dressed women in seductive poses, lacy lingerie barely covering full breasts, long legs spread teasingly, sultry eyes staring back at the camera. You bit your lip hard, flipping slowly. Your thighs pressed together as fresh heat pooled low in your belly, your sore, used pussy giving a needy little throb.

Bucky noticed immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing with delight. “Ohhh, look at that face. You getting wet again already, baby? Just from looking at pretty girls?”

Steve leaned in closer from your other side, voice low and teasing as he handed you a water bottle. “You like looking at pretty girls, sweetheart? Didn’t know our innocent little tutor had a secret thing for soft curves and lace. That’s cute as hell.”

“I- I just…” You turned another page, cheeks burning hot. The model on this spread was gorgeous, voluptuous hips, perfect tits barely contained by sheer fabric, lips parted like she was mid-moan. Your nipples tightened and you shifted restlessly. “They’re really pretty. Like… really pretty.”

Bucky grinned, propping his chin on your shoulder so he could look at the magazine with you, his breath hot against your ear. “You ever think about doing anything with a girl? Like… Nat, maybe? She’s always in those tight little tank tops when you two study. Bet she’d look real good between your thighs.”

Your head snapped up. “Bucky!”

Steve chuckled warmly, sliding back onto the bed and caging you in from the other side, one massive arm wrapping around your waist. “Come on, don’t get shy now, baby. You just made us kiss like horny teenagers. Fair’s fair. You ever thought about Nat like that? She’s hot as hell. We’ve seen the way you two giggle and whisper during those late-night study sessions.”

You hid your face in your hands, but you were smiling, thighs rubbing together as slick heat continued to build. “You two are the worst. I can’t believe you’re teasing me about this after what I just watched you do. You were literally making out while fingering me.”

Bucky gently pulled your hands away, kissing your knuckles with surprising sweetness before nipping at one. “Hey, we’re not complaining at all. You look so fucking cute all flustered and turned on. Your nipples are so hard right now. Keep looking if you want, doll. We’ll watch. Hell, we’ll help.”

Steve’s big, warm hand slid up your inner thigh, spreading your legs a little wider as he kissed your temple. “Or tell us what you’re thinking about while you flip through those pages, sweetheart. We can make it part of the lesson. Tell us which girl is making that pretty pussy clench.”

You peeked at them through your fingers, still sticky and sore but undeniably, shamefully aroused again. The sight of your two naked, flushed, muscular boyfriends, cocks half-hard against their thighs, looking at you like you were the center of their universe, combined with the glossy, filthy magazines in your lap made your head spin.

“Maybe… I’ve thought about it a little,” you admitted quietly, voice trembling as you flipped to the next page. This model was on her knees, ass up, looking back over her shoulder. You whimpered softly. “Not Nat specifically, but… girls are so pretty. Their bodies are so soft and curvy. I wonder what it would feel like to… touch.”

Bucky’s grin turned wicked and hungry. He reached over and turned the page for you, revealing a stunning redhead with her legs spread wide. “That’s our girl. Always full of filthy little surprises. Look at you getting worked up. Your thighs are shaking, baby.”

Steve’s fingers teased higher, brushing lightly over your swollen, leaking folds. “You’re soaked again just from looking at tits and pussy. That’s so fucking hot, sweetheart. You want to touch a girl’s soft tits while we watch? Or maybe you want one to sit on your face while we fuck you?”

You moaned quietly, hips twitching toward Steve’s hand as you kept flipping pages, eyes glued to the images. Bucky leaned in and sucked a mark onto your neck while his metal hand cupped one of your breasts, rolling your nipple.

“Tell us more,” Bucky murmured against your skin, voice dripping with teasing amusement. “Which one’s your favorite? The blonde with the big tits? Or the brunette who looks like she’d eat you out real slow and sweet?”

“I… I like the way they look so confident,” you breathed, voice getting higher and needier. Another page. Another gorgeous woman touching herself. Your clit was throbbing. “They’re so sexy. I feel all warm and tingly just looking…”

Steve chuckled darkly, sliding two thick fingers back inside your messy cunt, curling them perfectly. “Listen to you. Our innocent tutor is dripping down my hand because of some magazine tits. You ever watch girl-on-girl porn, baby? Bet that would really get you going.”

You whimpered loudly, clenching hard around his fingers as you turned another page with shaky hands. The images were blurring together now, lips, curves, fingers disappearing between thighs. You were so worked up you could barely think straight.

“I… I don’t even watch normal porn,” you confessed in a tiny, embarrassed voice, cheeks flaming.

The room went quiet for half a second.

Bucky pulled back, eyes wide with genuine surprise before a massive, predatory grin split his face. “Oh shit… yeah, I forgot. Our sweet little good-girl doesn’t even watch porn. Fuck, that’s adorable and so goddamn hot.”

Steve’s fingers stilled inside you for a moment, then started moving again, slower and deeper, his voice dropping into a rough growl. “You serious, sweetheart? You get this worked up just from looking at magazines and making us kiss? No porn at all?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip hard as another wave of heat crashed through you. Your hips rocked shamelessly against Steve’s hand, chasing the pleasure while your eyes stayed glued to the magazine in your lap. The latest page showed two women tangled together, lips locked, hands exploring soft curves. A broken whimper slipped out of you.

“I’ve never… needed it,” you admitted breathlessly, voice high and shaky. “I just… get like this with you two. And now… with them. They’re so soft and pretty and- ah!”

Bucky laughed low and filthy, nipping at your earlobe while his fingers joined Steve’s between your legs. Circling your swollen clit with perfect pressure. “Listen to her, Steve. Our innocent little tutor’s never watched porn but she’s soaked just imagining girl-on-girl. Bet you’ve had some real dirty thoughts during those late-night study sessions, haven’t you, baby?”

Steve leaned in and kissed your neck sweetly before sucking a fresh mark right below your ear. “Tell us, sweetheart. Be honest. When you’re alone in this dorm bed, do you ever touch this needy little cunt and think about pretty girls kissing? About soft tits in your hands? About a girl going down on you while we watch?”

“Yes- fuck- maybe,” you gasped, flipping to another page with trembling fingers. This one had a gorgeous dark-haired woman touching herself, head thrown back in pleasure. Your thighs started shaking. “I… I think about how their skin would feel. How they’d taste. It makes me so wet but I never… I never finish to it. I just get all worked up and then you two come over and-”

“And we fuck the thoughts right out of you?” Bucky finished, voice dripping with teasing delight. He pressed his metal fingers harder against your clit, rubbing tight circles while Steve fucked you deeper with three thick fingers now. “Poor baby. So pent-up and curious. Never even seen girls eating each other out on video. That’s criminal. We should fix that.”

You moaned loudly, the sound downright pornographic in the small dorm room. The combination of their filthy words, their hands working you open, and the glossy images of beautiful, naked women had you right on the edge. Your free hand grabbed Bucky’s thigh, nails digging in as your back arched.

Steve kissed your temple, sweet and loving even as his fingers curled relentlessly. “You’re clenching so hard, baby. You really like this, don’t you? Looking at pretty girls while your boys play with you. So cute and filthy at the same time.”

Bucky grinned against your neck, voice low and taunting. “Bet if we put on some girl-on-girl porn right now you’d come in seconds, huh? Our pure little tutor losing her mind over lesbian shit while we finger-fuck her. Say it, doll. Tell us how bad you want it.”

“I- I want-” Your words cut off into a desperate whine as they sped up, perfectly in sync like always. The magazine slipped from your fingers onto the bed as your head fell back against Steve’s shoulder.

Bucky leaned in close, lips brushing your ear, voice dark and promising. “Well, damn. Then we’re definitely going to have to do something about that…”

— yours truly, ѕℓυtdιεr.

masterlist

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to the airport?" Joshua asked, standing by the door with his arms crossed. Annoyed.

He found her pulling out her suitcase After he had gotten off from work. At first, he was Confused, did Lindsey find out that you knew about her and Simon? Or that he was helping you mess with them? Perhaps she learned, somehow, that you and Joshua were going to have dinner together.

But by some luck, Lindsey didn't know about you and him nor what he was about to do while she's gone. Joshua thought that they'd have a night of peace, sadly for him, he was wrong. Their usual screaming match made its way at home the last night. Of course, The stability that he craved was nonexistent in his household.

His body still tense with irritation pulsing in him. Lindsey sat stiffly on floor, packing as she continued to ignore him completely. Lindsey always did this, punish him for being suspicious. Rolling eyes, he released an exasperated sigh. "Are you seriously going to pretend I'm not here?"

No response.

This was ridiculous. She's really giving him the silence treatment, like a child. Annoyed, he left the room, The energy of their fight still lingering in the walls that once brought him joy. She calls him dramatic for being upset, but he had every right to be. Lindsey was leaving to go visit her parents for a week and choose to tell him about it yesterday, After already buying the ticket.

And then told him that he was over-reacting, The nerve of her. As he upset as he was about it, he couldn't to feel glad. Finally, he can have days of peace without her desperate need to control everything and him, he could actually enjoy his time with you. Alone.. in his house. Just The thought of which, had him adjusting himself in the another room. the bedroom door opens with almost violent yank.

Lindsey walks past him, wheeling her suitcase behind her. He watches her quietly. His gaze boring into her as she moved around. She stops, not turning  around. "You're still mad?" She sighed, shaking her in disappointment. "Of course you are."

Joshua laughed lowly, frustration flashing across his face. Was she seriously asking him that? Knowing the answer. "Oh? Well, excuse me for being upset about this, I just assumed that you'd ask your husband to go with you. You know, so I can comfort you."

"I shouldn't have to explain why I'm visiting my family, Josh." Lindsey turns to him, scowling. "An emergency isn't planned."

"I know that, Lindsey. But you choose to tell me two days afterward, it's a little odd, don't you think?. It makes it difficult for me to trust you—"

"Difficult to trust? How dare you." She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. Her ears burning with anger. "My husband should trust me, not looking for a reason to attack me when I'm in a family emergency!" She snaps, shoving a book in her carry-on. She's already had two different fights with him, Why couldn't he just leave her alone. "I want a husband that doesn't chaste me for doing things in the moment."

As just They began argue, again, a sleek black car pulls into the driveway. Her phone chimes, checking it, she looks at Joshua once more. "I'm done fighting with you. I'll call when I land." She kisses his cheek and walked away. Joshua tilts his head, watching her take her suitcase and roll it with her.

She looks back at him, taking a deep breath before leaving. "I'll see you in a few days, goodbye."

After Lindsey Closed the door behind her. He went towards the window. Lindsey sild her suitcase beside a different one in the trunk before getting in the sedan. Leaving him alone in the house. The sudden weight was lifted off his shoulders, exhaling, he silently got his keys and went to his car. Starting it, A small smile grew on his lips as he thought about the upcoming dinner. Driving to the store.

Meanwhile, in your home. You stood at the end of your bed, freshly showered and well moisturized. Anxiously, Your Eyes swept across the various pieces of your clothing you had laid out in a colorful sheet.

Up until this moment, it had been hours since Simon left for his 'Business' trip. And You assumed that you'd have an outfit ready but With having so many options, you were still at a lost.

"That's too bright... this is too gray... Damnit!" Slumping your shoulders. Finally saying screw it, you pulled your phone and called the one person who could help you in this moment. Sylvia. After two rings, she answers.

"Hello?"

"Girl. I don't know what to wear." you sigh, rubbing your face in frustration. This wasn't often, you're quite fashionable with your outfits but this was different. For the first time in years, you were nervous about your clothing. Walking back inside the closet, you started looking through your clothes again.

"Just put something nice on. from what you told me, he'd like you in anything. Hell, he'll probably rip your clothes off as soon as you enter, so why does it matter?"

"Sylvia." You say, holding your phone between your shoulder and head, eyeing a pair of flats before taking them out. "It matters to me because it's been years since I've gone on a date, I want to get this right, we're having dinner at his place and we agreed on a casual setting."

"Oh? Then, Wear something comfy... like a t-shirt and some panties on. Oh! You could wear your good bra."

"Sylvia.." you warned, staring at the wall. You're having a mini crisis and she tells to show up in your underwear. Of course, she would tell you that. Hesitantly, You took out the bra and panty set, AKA, the good bra Sylvia spoke of.

"Nah, But for real. change things up, wear something different. What would you feel comfortable in? "

"Hmm.." You furrow your eyebrows, heavy in thought about for a minute before answering. "I bought a cardigan a few weeks ago. It's dark green with flowers on its sleeves, I really like it... and it's comfortable too."

"Well.. then wear it, enjoy being comfortable."

"Yeah?" You nod, putting your shoes down. She was right, you like being comfortable, and you should be comfortable. "You're absolutely right, thank you."

"No problem, I wish you luck. Hope you get put through the mattress!"

Sylvia hung up before you could respond. Now in the quietness of your room, Your shoulders shook with laughter as you dropped your head. of course, she'd say that.

As much as you want pretend that she's wrong, you were hoping she's right. You took out the cardigan and went back to the bathroom. Now, calmer than before.

'Alright, I just need ring the doorbell...'

You stood on his doorstep, holding your purse in your hands. You're doing it, you're about have a date for first in years. You subconsciously move shift your weight from foot to the other, unable to stand still.

You couldn't help it, you've been prepared for this moment since the morning. Perhaps, a bit too prepared. You stuck your hand in your bag, it brushes across the box of condoms before grasping the lip gloss. While applying it, you began to wonder if you should feel remorse for thinking of being in bed with him, With his strong arms, you believed that you were moving things too fast.

Luckily for you, the remorse had left and in its place, pure unadulterated need. You were unbelievably enthusiastic about the thought of tonight and he was too. While in your thoughts, an abrupt and jarring one came to mind.

'I hope his dick is big, It felt like it in the car—Whoa, relax!'

You blink, deeply confuse before rubbing your lips together. Where did that come from? Were you finally becoming feral due to your sexual frustration because Why would you think that? Letting out a sigh, You put your lip gloss back in your purse and fixed your bra, unknowingly showing a little more skin before pulling your shoulders back, You gently rang the doorbell.

While cooking in the kitchen, Joshua peaked up at the sound of the doorbell. He sets the spoon down and left the room, heading towards the door. He opens it to you, standing there in a simple black shirt tucked in your skirt and dark green cardigan, with pink embroidered flowers on the sleeves. "It's good to see you. How was the drive over?" He asks.

"Fine. A little confusing, Got lost twice but doable." You smile, shrugging. God(s), you looked so damn pretty it hurts. His chest felt warm, like when he went on his first date. Well, technically. This was his first date in years, and with you.

Josh lent forward and gave you a kiss, It's was soft and brief, before moving aside to let you in. He wanted to kiss you more, but he's still cooking and needs to not burn the food. Walking in, you pressed your lips in a fine line. the living room was decorated with gold and velvet with a green floral couch against the wall.

It looked haphazardly put together, like someone got annoyed in the middle of picking out the items. It was... a lot on the eyes, but you kept your shut and followed josh to the kitchen.

Josh pulled out your chair, Gesturing to it. You smile and sat down, moving closer to the table. Not bad, he's doing pretty good. "So, What have you made?" You ask, watching him go back to the stove, turning it off. Opening the cabinet, Josh took two plates, sat them on the counter, and started adding food onto it.

Coming back over, Joshua held both plates im his hands.  "I'm going to be completely honest, I did not know what you liked so I kept it simple," He sets the dish down in front of you, the smell of grilled meat and the sight of white pasta made your mouth water a little. "I hope you like steak and pasta Alfredo."

"You know I will." Chuckling, You cut a piece of your steak and popped it in your mouth. It's juicy with a nice smokey flavor, Damn... if he's as good in bed as he is in the kitchen, you might just marry him tonight. Nodding, you grin at him. "This is so good, you did a great job." Joshua exhaled, releasing a breathe he didn't know he was holding. As silly as it was, Pride bloomed in his chest at your praise.

He could feel his skin flush at it, Joshua smiles, opening the wine bottle. "Thank you." after he poured some in your glasses, you held yours up  "A toast to new beginnings." You said, looking at him fondly.He nodded, holding up his.

"To new beginnings."

"Cheers." You two toast, the soft clink Of glass echoing in air as you both began a new chapter in of your lives.-

After dinner, the night continued to be filled with talks, laughter, and stories from the past. Joshua watched you While cleaning the dishes, he shook his head in disbelief. "No way." He says, glancing at you.

You nod, smirking. "Yes, way.. After five years of ignoring our old neighbor, who kept messing with us. On that day, my mom lost her shit, until that morning I never knew she could get that loud. She told her that if she kept bothering us, she'll bust her upside the head and ride in the ambulance with after beating her ass."

"And what did your dad say?"

"He said, 'She'll do, and I'll bail her out. I have the money!' That bitch RAN back in her house and never came out for rest of the day!" You cackled, leaning against the wall. As you did, Joshua couldn't help but to admire the joy on your face.

Your smile, that adorable, alluring smile was infectious. Joshua hasn't had a talk like this in years, the most he thought about it, the more he quietly cursed who or whatever was in charge for not letting him meet you first. you are his.. exact kind of woman. Taking a deep breathe, you turned back to Josh, now much calmer. "See why it's my favorite story."

"Yeah, That was a funny one." He says. Putting the last plate on the rack. Drying his hands, Josh looking at you. Your pulse quickened under your skin at his heavy gaze. You cross your arms, looking right back. "What, you want another kiss from me or something?" You jokingly asked.

Joshua turns around and tilts his head, pressing his back against the sink. "You know what I want... come here." Intrigued, You strolled towards him, eyeing him. Now in arms reach, His hands took their place on your hips as pulled you against his body, the light pain of his belt pressing on your side was noticeable but not as distracting as he was in this moment.

You were burning from his touch. You closed the distance with a kiss, passionately cupping his cheek, you lick his upper lip. Oh, you were needy. You couldn't believe how badly you needed him.

Joshua moans in kiss, sending a jolt of arousal to his dick. He was quickly drowning in ecstasy, growing hungrier for you. Sliding his tongue inside. Josh's hands move to your lower back, grabbing your backside as he explored your mouth.

It wasn't long until the sweet kiss became more desperate, walking you up to the wall. Joshua Kept his lips pressed firmly against yours, feverish touching you all around, making your skin prickle under his hands. As you suckle on his tongue, your thoughts started to cloud your judgment. Suddenly, you pulled back. Joshua furrowed his brows, still holding you. "What's wrong, do you want to stop?"

"No, no. Um, I kinda jumped you in a way..  As silly as this sounds, Are you comfortable with this? Even though it's too late for me to ask this quest—" Joshua cuts you off by taking your hand and pulling it to his pants, he carefully made your hand him through his jeans, eyes widening, Your lower stomach flutters at his actions. "Oh shit, Josh."

Groaning, Joshua rolls his hips forward, grinding against your palm, seeking more delicious friction. He leans closer to your ear. whispering. "I'm glad you care about me, but I'm not uncomfortable and I really need you, now."  He says, licking his lips. "I'm so hard that it hurts."

"Joshua–"

"Do you feel what you've done to me?" The shame in you vanished rapidly. nodding. You undid his belt, staring into his soul.

"I want to be your bed."

He takes your hand and pulled you with him down the hall, the heat between your legs growing stronger slick, When you both enter his dimmed bedroom, Joshua closes the door after you sat on the bed. He comes back to you He was Ready to get to his knees when you stopped him. "Take off your clothes and sit at the edge of the bed, please."

Without another word, Joshua unzips his pants, pulling  them off, he kicked them away before pulling his shirt over his head. Now in his underwear, he glances at you, and you nod, silently telling him to do it. With your consent, he pulls them down. Sliding them past his thighs, His length hits his stomach, eager, hard, and leaking with precum. The air hits him, making him twitch.

Your eyebrows rose to your hairline, 'oh... that's not fair, he's pretty.. everywhere.' You clear your throat as Josh sat next to you, touching himself. You gently cupped his face, His eyes flutter shut as soon as your palm touches his face. "Do you think of me when you pleasure yourself?" You ask, kissing his neck. "Imagine me, putting my hand down your pants and stroking you slowly.."

"Yes. Fuck, i can't help it.. you're still stuck in my head—Can't sleep without thinking about you–"

"So why don't I help you?"

"Please, Wait–" His eyes flew open, He watched in complete awe when you slowly spit onto the head of his cock, His body felt fuzzy, like static had shot over him. your saliva ran down the side of his shaft and pooled at the base. Shimmering in his faint, short pubic hair. Joshua shakily rubs his hand up, lubricating it with your saliva. "Oh, F-fuck..." he whines, thickly swallowing his saliva.

"What, you like this?" He nodded frantically, turning to look at you, You gently held his jaw and kissed him, moaning quietly, You slipped your tongue in his mouth while your other hand slid down his stomach to his shaft, it easily replaces his in a matter of seconds. He pulls away, gazing down to your hand with heavy-lids. Tightening your grip for a moment.

Joshua was drunk, happy, and everything in-between. You moved from the bed to the floor, sitting between his thighs As his clear precum slicked your hand, You lean forward and gave him a lick from base to tip, gently kissing the head of his Dick. Savoring the faint saltiness of his precum.

You kept eye contact as you slapped it against your tongue a couple times. Joshua lets out a low pleased hum, watching how your lips parted around his length, engulfing him in wet heat.

Slowly, you began bobbing your head and stroking him, making sure to gently twist him in your grasp. He slowly pushed himself farther in your lips, running his hand over your hair, Joshua's thighs tense up under your palms as you sucked him off. He dropped his head back, pointing his chin toward the ceiling.

"More..." He groans quietly, tightening his grip around your hair. "Please, baby. I need mo–O-oh–"

Hollowing your cheeks, the slurping noises intensifies as the pace picks up. Your push more and more of him in until you nose rubbed across the pubic stubble. Joshua whimpers, carefully thrusting up into your mouth. "Oh. Ohh shit.." The suction was perfect, you were perfect. Goddamn, If Simon believed you were lacking in the bedroom, then he was a lost cause.

Pulling back, You stared in his eyes and your swirled tongue on the head of his dick before dipping it into the slit. Joshua could feel that familiar curl in stomach. Panicked, He quickly pulls you off of him, Huffing quietly. A string of spit mixed with cum falling from your swollen lips. Confused, You asked what was wrong and if he wanted to stop.

"Nothing, and please don't." Joshua blinks, trying to steady his breathing. His eyes dazed, heart pounding in his chest as he spoke. "You're good at this, too good this, Nearly ruined the night."

You giggle, licking a stripe on the underside of his cock. He throws his head, Trying to not come instantly. You smirk. "You want me to keep going? Baby." You ask teasingly.

He stops, looking down at you. "No," He leans in close to your ear. "I want you to lie on the bed and open your legs so I can fuck you right.." Joshua rasp, gently nipping your lobe. Fuck this, he needed you now.

'Ooh shit..'

You froze and stared at the wall behind the bed, still on your knees, when Josh sat back, your heart rate spiked as you looked right at him, His brown eyes were half-lidded and almost black with lust, his hands clench as you two kept staring at one other.

'Oh.. oh.. ohhh, It's done.. you're not walking in morning'

."Okay—Oh!"

Suddenly, the world spun as Josh grabbed you by the hips and flopped you onto the bed. He tried, he really did try to keep his cool but his patience was gone. Joshua need you now. He hiked your skirt up, showing the garters on your plush thighs.

Fuck, you were gorgeous. the sight of your light blue panties, now wet with your slick was almost too much in his lust hazed mind. pulling your legs apart, he slowly peels them off, leaving you bare. His mouth watered at the sight.

Your were folds puff and wet, glistening in the low lighting. Unable to resist, Joshua shakily reached forward to collect some. Sighing quietly. "You're fucking soaked.." he sucks your essence off his fingers before  kneeling in front you. "Josh, please." You mewled, dropping your head back. "I know, I know. You don't have to beg, I'm going to take care of you." His thumb brushes across your clit, causing it to jump under it. You bit down on your lip, breathless, you gasp when he slowly pushed two fingers in, bucking your hips up to meet then.

Joshua placed his clean hand on your stomach, holding you still. "Do you hear her? She's been wantin' this... listen."

Clenching around the digits, The room was filled with the sound of your breathy and the slickness of your arousal coating as he worked them in and out, your dipping core sent a thrill through Josh as he watched. Licking his lips, Joshua gave your pussy a kiss before latching onto your clit.

A loud, high-pitched whimper escaped your soft lips, your hands immediately going to his hair, pulling it. Joshua rutted against the mattress, Hungrily losing himself in your slit, as he rotates between sucking and lapping at your delicate folds, slurping noisily. You were smooth, like honey on his tongue. So sweet, and so his. You were his, and He couldn't get enough, you were getting to him, and he wanted more.

He pulls off with a faint 'pop!' Keeping the same, Languidly pace of his fingers. He gazes at you, his once brown eyes were now dark, like a shark who's caught the scent of blood. "Look at you, a married woman letting me play with her pretty pussy.." He grins, putting a wet kiss on your inner thigh. "You like it, don't you? my fingers deep in you."

"Hm–mm.. They're so–aha~"

He angles his wrist and curls his fingers upward, rubbing over that deep inside. Tears lined your lashes, whining, you looked at him and Squeezed around his fingers, Your nub jumps under the pad of his thumb as he rubbed circles on it.

"Do you hear how wet you are? how needy she is?" He teases, keeping his pace. "You wanna cum, right? Want her to feel good?" You nodded dumbly, incapable of trusting your voice. It Usually takes a lot for you to silenced, but to be reduced to moans and soft gasps is a whole other concept, you were melting into a puddle of heat and euphoria from his hand. "I want an answer, baby."

"Yes! Yes, please!"

"Then do it, cum on my fingers. Do it." He commanded, pumping His fingers faster, the squelching grew more as he Rubbed faster circles, with a shudder, you finally reached your peek. "Josh!" You cried out, Arching your back. heat rolls over your body in delicious, satisfying waves, as You lock your tights around his head.

A few moments pass before you freed him, Joshua sits back, his mouth wet as he smiles with pride. Getting off the floor, He crawled onto the bed Looking equally as disheveled. You immediately hooked your finger under his shark necklace and pulled him down into a kiss, you sigh softly, tasting yourself on his lips. Joshua blindly grabs a condom from your bag and opens it, you watch him rolled it over his dick before hovering over you again.

Joshua looks at you with hesitation, his mind was dizzy and his body sweaty. "Are you ready?" You nod, spreading a little wider. he slowly entered you, inch by inch until he's completely in. Gripping his biceps, he stops. Allowing you to adjust to his size. Joshua squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers dug into your flesh almost painfully your walls tighten around him in response.

'Don't cum, not before her... oh, please don't cum." He thought, Yeah.. he's a goner.

Deeply intoxicated, Your hips buck, causing him to murmur your name softly. He felt so heavy and so deep inside, but it wasn't enough, you need more of him, and you need him now. "You can move, Josh. Please move, be rough." His eyes widens, looking much more focused than before. You weren't going lie, it did kinda throw you off.

"You like it rough, huh?" Josh hooked your legs on his arm, leaning forward. "Don't worry.. I'm gonna ruin you."  He says through gritted teeth, slamming in, your mouth shaped itself into a quiet 'oh' as He sild his hands between the bed and your ass, pulling your hips upwards to meet his Merciless rhythm.

your eyes gloss over as you wails bounced off the walls. Oh, He was getting desperate, you could feel him rubbing your G-spot with the tip. In a poor attempt to stay grounded, you turned your attention to his shark necklace, it swings back and forth. Hypnotizing you.

"Hey, Hey." Josh stalls, his eyebrows furrowing as he gently took your jaw in his grasp, making you look at him. "Look at me, Don't look away. Be a good girl and Look at the man who taking you so fuckin' well." Nodding wordlessly, Drool rolls from the corner of your mouth, down the side of your cheek. He chuckles and licks clean.

You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, A familiar fiery coil tightens in your gut. Sweat rolling down your chest. "I'm so close, Josh–ah" Your voice cracks as you dug your fingers into his skin.

He nods and quickly pushes your legs to your chest, folding you in half as he drove into you at a brutal pace. "I can feel it,  Come on, do it... squeeze around me... cu—Oh, f-fuuck~!"

Trembling, As You dissolved in pleasure, You gasped. Letting your vision go black. A ring of white cream forms at the base of his his as you came, making Joshua shudder, groaning your name in a guttural tone. Your walls spasm and contract around his length, causing him to reach his peek.

Joshua threw his head back, pounding into you, one two, three times before Thick white ropes spurts out of him, filling the condom. Minutes pass, The two of you pant in silence, finally coming down from the high.

Joshua wraps his arms around you, lying on top of you while you combed your fingers through his graying-curls. The contrast between the desperation of before to calm, stillness of now was like night and day, You giggled tiredly, finding it amusing.

Turning his head, Joshua kisses your lips affectionately, his need still lingered in it as you met with the same eagerness. He slowly pulls out, leaving you feeling empty as he stood up and went to bathroom. Looking up at the ceiling, You shivered. The sweat that poured off you body, had now chilled down.

Joshua comes back with a warm washcloth and gently cleaned you up. You jolt as he made contact with your now sensitive folds, "How are you feeling?" He asks, watching you face.

"Satisfied," you yawned, covering your mouth. "But tired."

Listening, He nodded and Kissed you on the forehead. After throwing the towel in hamper, Joshua sild back in the bed and took you back in arms. You tried to push him away. "No, don't hold me. I'm all sticky."

Joshua laughs, looking down at you. "And so am I. Go to sleep, we'll shower together in the morning."

"But–"

"No." He says, cutting you off. You wanted to fight him on this, but the exhaustion in your body was stronger than your own rebuttal.

Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes. Letting out a yawn himself, Joshua turns off the light. Leaving you two in gentle, peacefully silence.

He tilted his head, and his heavy gaze swept over your entire silhouette, lingering in places where your skin was visible, like your thick thighs, your lower pudgy belly, and your cleavage. You scratched the back of your neck, unable to find the will to smile at him, your face motionless. Gaku had a magical power over you: it was to completely short-circuit your brain with just a look or a word.

“You good?” he asked, bringing his blunt back to his mouth to take a drag.

“Yes,” you cleared your throat. “Did you have a good day?”

“Same shit every day, you know.” He exhaled smoke from his mouth. “And you?”

Embarrassment washed over you. You had spent all day playing your otomes. You thought for a few seconds to come up with a lie.

“Y-Yeah, I had a busy day.”

“Why are you always stuttering when you talk to me? I don’t bite.” His eyes narrowed. “Unless you want me to.”

Was your crush flirting with you? You had known him for years, but you had always been too shy to confess your feelings. The temperature in your body rose, and you suddenly felt too hot even in your tank top.

“You’re just kind of intimidating,” you dared to say.

He moved closer to you, so that your thighs were touching.

“Yet, I’m nice to you.”

“You’re mean to others?”

“I just don’t care about people,” he rested his head on your shoulder, and butterflies took flight in your stomach. “But I care about you,” he added. “Stop being so shy with me.”

His words were like a blanket over your heart.

“I’ve been playing my romance games all day,” you finally admitted. Blood rushed to your cheeks, your voice hesitant.

He glanced at your Switch.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I spend hours playing my games too,” he reassured you. “What’s your game this time?”

As if a switch had been turned on in your head, your passion for otome games overwhelmed you, and your voice became enthusiastic, losing its trembling.

“It's Hakuoki. It's a historical otome. It follows a group of samurai investigating our father's death. It's one of the best otome games out there; it has an anime and tons of different games. The characters are super endearing, the found family trope is super well-written, and the romantic endings are awesome. Even though you're only following one character's route, the characters are so well-developed that you become attached to all the others at once. It's a popular otome, so the voice actors are popular; one character is voiced by Nanami's seiyuu in Jujutsu Kaisen,” you said in one breath, your voice cheerful and your eyes sparkling as you talked about your passion. “Do you know Jujutsu Kaisen? I'm playing a visual novel fangame of that manga, it's awesome. I have to pay for the erotic endings, tho.”

Gaku had a gentle look over his face as he listened to you, finding you so cute to be so passionate.

“What’s your favorite character?”

“Okita,” you pointed to who he was on your Switch screen. “He has tuberculosis, and there’s a real focus on his relationship with his role as a samurai and his illness. Being a samurai is his whole life. He doesn’t feel capable of living if he can’t be useful to his friends. He’s extremely loyal and does anything for his loved ones. I love him so much.”

“You always love characters who are loyal and devoted to their loved ones. It was the same for Nicola in Piofiore.”

Your heart swelled.

“You remembered.”

He looked up at you. “Of course I did. You think I don’t listen to you?”

You shook your head, your face offered a shy smile.

“It’s just that everyone doesn’t care about my yapping about otomes.”

“Not me. I think about you when I have love and deepspace ads on tiktok.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “You should download it.”

“Nah.” Gaku shifted on the couch, lifting his hips to sit up better. The gesture was sexy, warmth pooling low in your belly. He still had that natural sensuality; it was in his aura; he walked through the world with indifference and confidence, and it was so attractive to you.

You continued your otome route, Gaku's head still resting on your shoulder as he watched the choices you made. He let out low chuckles when he saw you get excited by a physical connection between the main character and the love interest.

Gaku smelled of weed and the masculine scent of expensive cologne. The scent enveloped you in a comforting and familiar hug. You wanted to snuggle up to him, but you were too shy. Actually, you didn't even know if your feelings were reciprocated; Gaku was so nonchalant, you never knew what he was thinking.

“Do you have a girlfriend right now?”

Your mouth had moved faster than your brain, and you wanted to facepalm yourself for being so tactless. Gaku kept a straight face, his eyes fixed on your fingers as they tapped the screen of your game console.

“Nah.”

Gaku had many relationships, but laidback as he was, he was easily bored with them once the routine set in. In fact, the only person he'd been interested in for so long was you. When he met Uzuki many years ago, when you were still young, he noticed you immediately. You walked around with ribbon bows in your braids and pink ballet flats, adorable and coquette, while most kids didn't care about fashion. Routine with you was comfortable. He could hear you talk about your passions without ever losing interest in the conversation.

Gaku's eyes lingered on your bare thighs a few moments before speaking.

“And you? I've never seen you in a relationship since I've known you.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks again.

“I don't even have friends, so no, I don't have boyfriends.”

“Ouch.” Gaku placed his hand on his heart, in mock-pain. “After all these years, you don't consider me your friend.”

You widened your eyes.

“Of course I do! I meant besides my brother's friends, I don't have anyone.”

“That's because you're focused on your inner world with your romance stories and don't pay attention to reality.” Gaku poked your temple. “If you opened up to the outside world, I'm sure everyone would adore you.”

Your eyes grew warmer.

“Thank you, Gaku.”

“No need to thank me, I'm just spittin’ facts.”

The rest of the evening passed with Gaku pressed against you, and you felt safe and interesting as he listened to all your monologues as you explained the lore of your games. When it was time for him to go home, he gave you a kiss on the temple before getting up from the couch and leaving the house. You already missed his scent.

──────── 

The next day, you were home alone when you heard a knock at the door. Surprise flashed across your face when you saw Gaku in front of you. His hood was down, his handsome face on full display. His height towered over you; he stood with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing his usual navy blue hoodie and black baggy jeans, with a silver chain around his neck. His gray hair was messy from the humidity, the strands slightly wavy.

His eyes roamed your body from head to toe, appreciation in his gaze. He lingered on your usual bows in your hair, the frilly hem of your pink dress that was the perfect shade for your brown skin, and your Mary Jane shoes. As usual, you looked like a princess.

“Uzuki isn’t here.”

“Didn’t come for him.”

“You came for me?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, I've been thinking about our conversation. We only see each other when your brother is around, so you don't consider me a personal friend of yours. I thought we could go on a car ride together.” He raised his arm, revealing a grocery bag you hadn't noticed. “I bought some snacks.”

The butterflies from yesterday were returning to invade your stomach. You stepped back to grab your bag at the entrance and join Gaku outside. Your heart was beating a little faster; it was the first time you'd spent time alone with him, and you were excited. Gaku was an orphan and still a student, so his car wasn't the most expensive, but it was perfectly clean, and when you stepped inside, a pleasant scent of jasmine filled your nostrils.

“Want some?” Gaku took a blunt out of his pocket, and you shook your head.

“You’re always so proper and doing the right thing.”

You swore you heard a smile in his voice, but his face remained impassive. He started the car and put on a playlist. “More than ever” by Lucki was playing in the car, a soft rap song with a soaring instrumental. Gaku jerked his chin at you to get some food from the bag, and he drove with one hand on the wheel.

“What were you doing before I came?”

“Playing love and deepspace.” You nibbled on chips. “I’m trying to understand the lore of Rafayel and Sylus in their myths. I spent too much money on them again, my mother will scold me.”

“Rafayel, the fish?”

“Gaku! Don’t call him that. That’s my husband right here.”

He let out a low chuckle. “My bad. Right, I forgot you’re married. To like… 10 fictional men?”

“Marius from Tears of Themis, Yang from Piofiore, Chevalier from Ikemen Prince, Lance from Court of Darkness, Harada from Hakuoki, Yanagi from Collar x Malice-”

“You’re so greedy.”

You nudged him playfully. “You’re jealous because your life is boring without characters to obsess over.”

“Right, I’m so jealous.”

He stopped at the red light to let pedestrians cross and turned to you. His gaze was soft, his red eyes shining with a warm flame.

“Why do you like these games so much? What’s the psychological mechanism behind them? Escapism?”

Your mischievous smile faded, giving way to a serious expression.

“You really want to know? Do you promise not to make fun of me?”

“Do I look like I have enough emotion on my face to make fun of you?” He reassured you, focusing on the road again.

You took a deep breath, hands on your bare thighs.

“I don’t really think I’ll end up in a relationship one day.”

“Bullshit.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Gaku, you’re my friend, of course you’re going to believe in me. But I never managed to make friends in high school, and boys think I’m weird. When I play these games, I can immerse myself in a person who is loved for who they are. It’s very therapeutic for me; I always feel full after completing a route. These are games designed for women, so the love interests are written to meet our emotional needs.”

“You just haven’t found your person yet.”

“I’m afraid she doesn’t exist.”

“What if it’s me?”

Your hands, which were playing with the em of your dress, froze. “What?”

“What if I’m your person? I find you gorgeous, you’re not weird to me, and I love hearing you yapping about your game lore.”

His words made you dizzy. You opened your mouth, then closed it. Gaku didn’t have a smile on his face, just his usual calm face, which made you unsure if he was serious or if it was just a friendly way of showing his affection.

“Gaku, you can’t say words like that to a girl unless you’re in love with her.”

“You didn’t know?”

“What?”

He gave you a look, the intensity in it making you swallow hard. “I love you.”

It felt as if all the air in your lungs was trapped inside, unable to supply you with oxygen. Your hands trembled on your thighs.

“You can’t be serious,” you whispered.

“I’m not Nagumo, bullshit doesn’t come out of my mouth often. When I say that I love you, I mean it.”

Maybe Gaku was a man like that. A man who took what he wanted without asking himself several questions first. He was your opposite, you were socially awkward and was overthinking all of your interactions. Like yin and yang, you complemented each other, and maybe he was right when he said he was your person.

“I had a crush of you for years, I never thought it would be mutual,” you murmured, your voice shy, still wondering if it was a dream.

“We’re on the same page then.”

Gaku parked in a parking lot, took out his blunt and lighter, then lit it to wrap his lips around it. He leaned back on the backrest of the seat, smoke coming from his mouth. He turned to you.

“I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend. I don’t really care about a lot of romantic stuff, so just tell me what you want. I’ll remember and do whatever you want.”

It was a gentle side of Gaku that you didn’t know existed, but you deeply appreciated being able to witness it.

“I want it to be natural between us, so I’d like you to take the initiative. When you see me, aren’t there things you want to do with me since you like me?”

“Smoke weed and listen to you talk about your husbands.”

You chuckled. “Besides that.”

“You’re going to say I’m misogynistic and objectify you.”

Flustered, you looked away.

“You want to have sex with me?”

“Who wouldn’t? You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. But you’re more than your beauty. I swear I love you for more than that, I just don’t know how to be a good boyfriend. I didn’t have any love models when I was young; I always grew up in an orphanage. There is no love there. I just know how to have sex and… Smoke weed with you.”

His jaw tensed. You took his free hand in yours and intertwined your fingers.

“We'll be a team. I know a lot about romance. I can write a list of scenarios and activities I want to do as a couple with you, and you'll do them in any order you want. We'll establish rules for managing conflicts and arguments, and how to communicate when the other person is upset. We got this.”

You smiled at him, and his gaze grew warmer.

“Wanna go to the backseat? I have blankets, I wanna hug you,” he proposed. Smooth talker. 

Your eyes lit up and you nodded. 

With a few maneuvers, you found yourself in the backseat, sitting on his lap. Hands on your hips, he buried your head in your neck to press soft kisses, giving you goosebumps. His hands moved down to your ass to grip it firmly. The light kisses turned into open-mouthed kisses, his tongue caressing the skin and his mouth sucking the bits of flesh.

“I never did that,” you whispered.

He lifted his head from your neck, his red eyes dilated. A few grey strands fell in front of his gaze and his forehead, a different look from his usual slicked back hair.

“I'll take care of you. I'm good at this. It's the only thing I'm good at, actually.”

“Don't say that, Gaku.”

You dug your hands into his hair. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. He continued to kiss your neck and suck on the skin. A budding heat crackled low in your belly, and desire began to take hold of you. You wanted him.

Actually, you'd always wanted him. On Instagram, there was a photo of him at the beach with Uzuki and his friends. You couldn't even begin to count how many times you'd masturbated to the sight of his abs and biceps, how you wanted the hard planes of his body to rub against your softer ones, and how you wanted his nonchalant expression to turn into a blush of physical exertion. Every time you had a romantic scenario in your otomes, you imagined them at night with him.

“What are you thinking in that pretty head of yours?”

“Thinking about the fact that I've liked you for years.”

His mouth moved up to your face, tracing your jaw.

“I'm not as special as you for you to love me this much, you know.”

“I didn't know you had such an insecure side to you, Gaku.”

He nuzzled his nose against yours for an Eskimo kiss.

“I'm not insecure. I'm realistic. I don't do much with my life except go to the gym, play games, go to college, and smoke weed with my friends. I'm a dull work of art when you're a masterpiece filled with bright colors. I can't compete with your mind.”

His lips gently touched yours, and you closed your eyes while he kept them open, narrowing at the sight of your peaceful expression, pressed against him. You looked like an angel, a pretty princess, with your pink ribbon bows wrapped in your braids and the pastel colors of your eyeshadow. He could eat you alive if he could.

The soft presses of his lips became more demanding, his hands placed on your waist to pull you closer to him, and he lifted his hips to sit better against the back of the seat. With a small sigh, you opened your mouth, letting him enter, his tongue curling around yours in a slow, languid dance. His cock twitched in his pants as he sensed your inexperience in your kisses, understanding that he would be the first man to win your heart, and he resolved to be the last.

“Are you in love with me or do you just like the way I make you feel because I'm the only boy who listens to you?” he murmured against your lips.

“Don't say that,” you repeated, your heart aching that Gaku would think that of you. “I love everything about you. Whether it's the way you feel like you don't care about anything, or your ability to contain your emotions while mine overflow everywhere. You're like a quiet, reassuring force that I want to snuggle up to every time you're near me. I love your confidence, your diligence in the things you enjoy, and how you don't seem to be affected by the tragedies of our world; it speaks to a great strength of mind. You're still very caring with those close to you, and very attentive; you make sure your friends are comfortable around you. You're like a big teddy bear.”

For the first time in his life, Gaku's heart began to beat faster, and he couldn't explain why something twisted in his stomach as he listened to you. His hands tightened their grip around your waist, and his kisses became more aggressive. He nibbled your lower lip, sucked on your tongue, and rocked his hips against you so you could feel his erection against you. He noticed your flustered expression at his gesture, and the blood rushed even more to his bulge.

“Did the main character in your video games have their first time in a car?”

“Not really,” you chuckled against his lips. “It's romantic, and on a bed.”

“Are you implying I'm not romantic? I can be for you.”

He angled his hips to rub his clothed cock against your panties under your dress, and you arched your back, nibbling his lip as you closed your eyes. With each roll of his pelvis, you gyrated yours to meet his, in a dynamic rhythm that sparked a fire between you. The more his erection ground against your clothed cunt, the more desire engulfed you like a crashing wave, making you want more.

“Tell me how I can become like your otome love interests. Sylus, how does he take care of the main character?”

“You will never be him.”

Gaku suppressed an eye roll.

“Of course, I'm not a criminal.”

“Sylus is kind of submissive; he worships the main character. He wants her to feel safe with him. Even if she hurt him in the past, she's still the love of his life, transcending time and reincarnations.”

“Fuck him, honestly, how do I compete with that?”

Your quiet laugh filled the car. “But I can show you how you should make love to me. I've imagined this moment many times.”

You took his hand and placed it on your neckline.

“You can worship in your own way, no need to reincarnate.”

“I'm not used to being gentle in bed.”

“Maybe because you didn't like your previous partners. When you see me, don't you want to take care of me?”

His eyes softened. “Of course, I do. I want to treat you gently. You deserve the best of me.”

“So show me what the best of you is.”

Gaku cupped your clothed breast, kneading it through the light fabric of your dress, and licked his lips as he felt your nipple harden against his hand. He lowered the cups, and his lips closed over your right nipple to suck it while he pinched and rolled the other between his fingers. Your back arched more, and you let out a soft sigh, riding his erection.

He undressed you vertically, removing the thin straps of your dress and sliding it down so that your upper body was bare. He pulled his head back for a few moments to admire the view of your breasts, your nipples slightly moistened by his mouth. 

You looked like a buffet, a buffet of sweet desserts, which anyone would pounce on if they had the chance to see it. Having your breasts in his mouth wasn't enough; he really needed to be able to eat you, just to keep you with him forever. But he couldn't tell you that without sounding like an orphan disturbed in his head.

He pressed soft kisses between your breasts, his mouth moving down to kiss your pudgy belly, your arms, your hips, and suck on any part of your flesh that had an excess of fat. Your brown skin was dotted with dark marks from his hickeys, but he didn't care. Now that you were his, he would claim you every day. And he hoped you would do the same, claiming him as yours.

He gently laid you down on the backseat and took off your dress. He kissed your feet, making you tickle, and his heart swelled at the sound of your little chuckles. His mouth traveled down your entire leg, and not a single part of your body hadn't experienced his lips on you. He kissed your inner thighs, but you suddenly clenched them. He looked up and noticed you looking away, flustered.

“What is it?”

“I’m not shaved.”

He cocked his head to one side, frowning. He waited several seconds to see when the joke would come, but you remained silent and embarrassed.

“Do I look like I give a fuck?”

To show you he wasn’t intimidated by your pubic hair, he slid your panties down your legs, and his hands parted your hairs to find a path to your tight heat. He indulged in your arousal, the tip of his tongue wiggled through your wet folds. You bent your knees on the seat, pushing yourself up on your elbows to watch his head disappear between your thighs. His eyes were closed, as if savoring the taste of you in his mouth. A gentle pulse warmed your lower abdomen, and your breathing quickened as he drove his tongue deeper into you.

A slight tremor ran through your skin as he brushed your clit, the flicks expert and precise as he traced circles. You put your hand over your mouth to keep from moaning too loudly, but the pleasure overwhelmed you, your body burning.

“Keep makin’ pretty noises, f’me,” he hummed against you, a deep crease between his eyebrows as he saw you muffle your moans. Either way, he was going to pleasure you so much that you wouldn’t have a choice but to scream his name, he promised you.

He wrapped his lips around your clit to suck it greedily, you clenched your thighs around his face and ground your cunt into his mouth. He parted your folds before pushing a finger inside you, and he shuddered at the sensation of how tight you were. He plunged his digit in and out before inserting a second, while he abused your throbbing bud.

He curled them to hit that spongey spot inside you. The combination of G-spot and clit stimulation made you lose your mind. A hot coil wound tighter and tighter in your stomach before exploding like an inferno seizing your body to set you ablaze. You whimpered a loud 'gaku!' before throwing your head back, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

Gaku withdrew from your crotch, the bottom of his face glistening. He took off his clothes and threw them on the floor of his car. You caught your breath and glanced at him. You bit your lip at the sight of his massive muscles in front of you, his defined abs and V-line, after spending nights staring at that Instagram photo. But when your eyes fell on the erection, your eyes widened. His size was demonic.

“Um…”

“Mhm?”

He wrapped your legs around his waist, leaning over your body as his height towered over you, his hair falling in front of his eyes and hiding his gaze full of lust and desire. His girthy cock rubbed through the folds, still not inserting itself, lubricating itself with your arousal.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

“I will make it fit.”

He began to push his dick into you, your pussy wrapping around the head. You winced at the pain since it was your first time, but Gaku eased your pain with his hand, massaging your clit as he moved his hips backward, withdrawing from you to sink again, but gaining more inches into you this time.

His thrusts were gentle and slow, he remained attentive to your needs and expressions. He stilled inside you when you needed to adjust to his size. When he saw your face relax, he flushed his pelvic floor against yours, his happy trail rubbing against your hairs, and sank in completely. Your air froze in your lungs, but you endured the feeling of being full.

“Atta girl.”

He lay on top of you to press a kiss to your forehead. You wrapped your arms around him, pulled him close, and caressed the hard planes of his muscular back. He peppered your face with kisses, lingering on your jaw, cheeks, and nose. As he plunged in and out, and you panted, an electrifying tension coursing through your muscles, vibrating to the rhythm of your desire. It was a new, overwhelming, but definitely pleasant sensation that took hold of you like a wild fire igniting in your lower abdomen.

Holding onto his elbows, at each corner of your head, his silver chain tapped against your forehead with every movement of his body, a small, reassuring sound that immersed you in the sweetness of the moment. The wet slapslap of skin filled the car and the windows misted up. He pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, his breath caressing your face.

You felt close to his heart, connected to him intimately beyond the physical, and the feeling of security that invaded you made your eyes water.

“You know, you’re my favorite boy ever.”

He kept his eyes closed, but for the first time you'd met him, his lips curved into a smile that reached his eyes. Your heart pounded at the sight, wanting to immortalize this moment forever.

“I don’t know what to say to that. I’m not special, I-”

You crushed your lips on his, your arms wrapping around his neck. His lips parted in shock, and you took the opportunity to mingle your tongue with his. You ravished his mouth, putting all the love you could into the kiss, and making him stop putting himself down.

“Okay, I get it, I get it,” he whispered against your lips. “Sorry.”

“Make love to me. Make me yours. I wanna be your favorite girl too.”

“Stop saying dumb shit like that, you’re always my favorite human in the world.”

He picked up the pace, his hips slamming against yours. He swallowed all your moans, continuing to kiss you, his cock stretching your pussy out. Each of his thrusts was an affirmation of love, and each roll of your pelvis to meet him and follow his dance was a reassurance he mattered in this word. In your own way, you reassured your aching hearts, like a soft blanket over your ache. Like yin and yang, you complemented each other, and in this present moment, you were united forever.

──────── 

𝟑 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

“What’s this?”

Uzuki looked curiously at the box Gaku was carrying. They were heading to Uzuki’s house, to spend time with you.

“It’s for your sister.”

Walking through the front door, he looked for you, eager to give you your gift. You came out of the kitchen, and even though you still had your satin bonnet on, you were still the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

“What’s up?” you greeted him, snuggling up to him. He hugged you, craving your warmth and scent.

“Just open this.” He jutted his chin at the box on the table.

You began to open the box, your eyes lighting up when you saw the acrylic stands from Tears of Themis and Love and Deepspace. You jumped up and down, and a wide smile stretched your lips as you rushed to unwrap everything from the plastic bags, discovering the otome merch your boyfriend had bought.

In that moment when you beamed with happiness, Gaku really thought he wanted you to have that expression all your life, and he hoped you would. In any case, he'll do anything to be the case. You were his favorite girl, after all.

You rub your lips together one last time as you swipe the lip gloss across your lips. You check your outfit and fluff your hair as you grab your phone off the sink. Your phone buzzes incessantly in your hand with messages from family and friends.

Happy Birthday!

You smile at the goofy and heartfelt messages that your loved ones send you. As you exit the bathroom and head back to the table, your friends all cheer in excitement, which causes the rest of the restaurant to turn to you. You do a little strut while pretending to give a Miss USA wave. 

“Girl, you’re eating that dress up,” Your friend, Aniyah, comments. 

From the other end of the table, your other friend, Santana, pipes up, “Yess! I mean titties and everything sitting up nice!” 

You laugh while taking a sip of your drink, “Thanks for coming, guys! I really do appreciate you all being here.”

“Sis, you know it’s no problem. We definitely weren’t going to miss out on spoiling our girl,” Danny comments. 

For your birthday, you wanted to keep things a bit lowkey this year. This included having a big dinner with your closest friends. Your friends had honored your request by getting you a reservation at a fancy restaurant and making sure that you were having a good time. Soon, you hear the sounds of clapping as the restaurant staff surrounds you to sing Happy Birthday. Your friends all take out their respective phones to record and sing along. 

One of the waitresses sets the dessert in front of you with a candle lit. As you blow out the candle, everyone cheers in excitement. 

“Okay! Time for gifts!” Danny announces. 

One by one, your friends hand you a variety of gifts. Danny gifts you a vintage Chanel bag that you had on your wishlist for ages. Santana gifts you a new pair of heels, along with $500 gift card to Sephora. When it’s Aniyah’s turn, she’s smiling brightly. 

She pulls a colorful box from under the table and slides it in your direction. Aniyah had always been the artsy one out of your friend group, so if she gave you anything, it was always guaranteed to be handmade, which you all appreciated. 

The box feels a bit heavy, but you gasp as you lift the lid of the box. Inside the box is a collection of plates and mugs that you know are handmade.

“Aniyah, you made all of these for me?”

“Yeah, you kept saying that you wanted to add more plates and mugs to your grown woman apartment, so I figured I’d make you some.” 

“Aww..thank you, guys. This is definitely one of the best birthdays,” You state, eyes glistening with tears.

“Don’t start all that crying. You know I cry easily,” Danny quips as he fans his eyes. 

Aniyah perks up, “Oh, wait! Before I forget, I did have one last small gift for you. I know how you love to collect little trinkets, so I got you this.”

She slides the small box over to you as you pick it up.

“One Wish Willow. You only get one wish,” You read aloud. 

Everyone chuckles together. “Well, sis, what are we wishing for?”

Before you can comment, a man walks up to the table and stands in front of you. He’s handsome. Like, real handsome. He graces you with a bright smile, “Hi, I hope I’m not being rude by approaching your table. I’m Kendrick. I heard it was your birthday, and I just wanted to come over to say Happy Birthday.” 

You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. He licks his lips, “I also just couldn’t sit by without telling the birthday girl how beautiful she looks. Also, it wouldn’t be in good conscience if I didn’t come bearing gifts, so Happy Birthday, ma.” 

From behind his back, he pulls out a bouquet of flowers that look freshly plucked. 

“Did you just get these?” You ask, laughing slightly. 

“Yeah, I ran to the flower shop next door to get them. I couldn’t come over here to shoot my shot without at least applying a little pressure.” 

You chuckle, “Well, Kendrick, I appreciate the effort. It’s greatly appreciated.”

“No problem at all. I hope I’m not too forward with asking for your number?”

“Not at all. Hand me your phone,” You respond. From there, you put your number in his phone, and he calls you so that you’ll have his number. 

“Happy Birthday again. I’ll be reaching out soon,” Kendrick states, flashing you another handsome smile. 

He politely says goodbye to your friends before leaving the table. Your friends turn their heads to you, and Santana starts squealing lowly. 

“Girl! That man was fine! I’m talkin’ 90’s fine!”

“Then he came over here smelling good and giving out gifts. You betta’ hop on that, sis.”

“I’ll think about it,” You state, taking a sip from your drink. 

Danny smacks his lips, “Sis, that man is too fine!” 

Aniyah smirks, “Y’all know she’s still waiting on Michael B. Jordan to come sweep her off her feet.”

“Mhmm..who’s that fine white man from that show, The Pitt, that she be thirsting after?” Santana asks, snapping her fingers to conjure up the name.

“Shawn Hatosy,” Your friends say together. 

“Y’all are tripping. There’s always a possibility that Michael B. Jordan or Shawn Hatosy could see me and instantly fall in love,” You said, holding up your hands. 

Danny reaches over to pull your hand in his, “Hey sis, that’s called delusion.” 

The four of you start to laugh together as you slap Danny’s hand away. You look down at the One Wish Willow on the table and open the box. You quickly read over the instructions before you slide the little stick into your hand. You wave it around in front of your friends, “It’s still my birthday, and Aniyah gifted me this little wish, so I can use it on whatever I want to! So I wish that Michael B. Jordan and Shawn Hatosy appeared in my bedroom tonight!” 

After saying the words, you snap the stick between your fingers. 

Your friends look around for a few minutes, as if expecting some poof of magic to fill the space.

“Sis, you should’ve wished for a billion dollars,” Danny states. 

You shrug. It’s just a little knick-knack. There’s no way that your wish would ever come true. 

After dinner, you say goodbye to your friends as you all hug. You drive back to your apartment and park in your designated spot. The sound of your heels clacking against the floors as you greet Ramon, the doorman. 

“Looks like you had a good night. Happy birthday again,” He comments. 

“Thank you!”

You liked your apartment building because it felt like home. Your landlord and all of the staff were all accommodating and friendly. They’d even taken the time out to make a basket for your birthday. As the elevator dings, you look down at the flowers in your hands. You think about Kendrick’s interest in you and how intentional he was about pursuing you in that moment.

However, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander to your celebrity crushes. You’d been crushing on Michael B. Jordan and Shawn Hatosy for as long as you could remember. Their more recent roles only served to intensify your crush on them. People always laughed when you told them who your celebrity crushes were because Michael and Shawn seemed like men on two separate spectrums of the industry. 

Quite frankly, as Danny has put it, you were a bit delusional.

You firmly believed that if Michael or Shawn had the chance to meet you, they’d both be ready to propose right then and there. The elevator dings before you can let your thoughts venture further. You unlock the door to your apartment and set the flowers on the counter. You grab a vase and begin the work of putting it in the water. 

Once you’re satisfied with the state of the flowers, you move into your bedroom to get ready for the night. For a moment, your mind wanders back to the wish. You allow yourself to slowly walk to the bedroom and push the door open lightly. 

You peer into the room and find it just as empty as when you left. 

“Welp..so much for that wish.”

You go to your dresser to grab your cutest pajamas. You were always under the belief that you should dress cute for sleep. As you shower and change into the lacey set, you make sure to moisturize and spritz perfume along your body. As you do your last-minute door checks, you walk back into the bedroom and slide under the covers. You grab your remote to watch The Faculty. 

Before you know it, you’re drifting off to sleep against your pillows. 

You can hear the distinct sounds of chatter happening in your bedroom. Two distinct male voices whisper harshly to each other as you’re lying on your pillow. For a moment, your heart falls to your stomach as you wonder if someone’s managed to break into your apartment. But they wouldn’t be able to do that without passing Ramon.

Maybe you’re just dreaming. Maybe this is some kind of weird-freaky sleep paralysis thing, where you’re hearing voices. Maybe you had too much to drink tonight. 

You open your eyes and catch two figures standing at the edge of your bed. Quite frankly, it’s not just the best move, but you scream and fling the closest thing to you over at the figures. The closest thing that happens to be the vibrator lying on your nightstand. The vibrator hits one of the figures, and you hear a gruff, “Ow!” 

You blindly reach for the lamp as you flick it on. 

For a second, you genuinely start to wonder if you’re dreaming.

Because there’s no possible way that Shawn Hatosy and Michael B. Jordan are standing at the foot of your bed.

The three of you must look like some cheesy scene from a porno, as Michael and Shawn are both in their pajamas. You try not to ogle Michael’s bare chest or Shawn’s biceps.

“I’m dreaming. Yep, those drinks were stronger than I thought, and now I’m dreaming,” You state, nodding your head along to your therapy.

You stare at both men, “I’m gonna go to sleep. When I open my eyes, you’ll both be gone.” 

You lie down on the pillow and close your eyes. You give yourself a solid minute before you open your eyes and peek back. To your surprise, Michael and Shawn are both still standing there.

Shawn gives you a small smile, “Still here, honey.”

“Oh, my god. This is a nightmare. An actual prolonged nightmare. Quick, one of you pinch me.”

Shawn and Michael both stare at each other. Shawn shrugs before moving to stand beside you. The heat from his body, along with the smell of his cologne, sends your nervous system into overdrive. What kind of nightmare was this if you could smell them?

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, clearly hesitant to pinch you.

“Yeah, it’s just a dream or..nightmare. I’ll just pop right back up.”

You hold your arm out in Shawn’s direction, and he grabs your arm between his hands. You try to ignore the way that your heart beats faster at the feel of his hands on you. Good Lord, if this were a dream, you hoped that you had more just like it. Maybe a little more NSFW…

He looks at you hesitantly until you nod. He grasps your skin between his fingers and pinches. The jolt of pain quickly shoots through you as you pout at the older man.

“So that hurt. And now, I can officially confirm that it’s not a dream,” You said. 

You look at both men, and they also look back at you. You ask the only question that seems to make sense in your head, “Did you guys break into my apartment?”

Michael scrunches his face up, “No, one minute I was sleeping in my bed and then the next thing I know, I’m standing in your bedroom.” 

You both look over to Shawn. He shrugs, “Same thing happened to me.”

You happen to glance over at Michael, who’s still holding your vibrator that you threw at him earlier. If spontaneously combusting was an option, you’d choose it. 

Michael seemingly remembers that he’s holding the object and gives you a small smile, “I think this belongs to you.” 

He leans across the bed to hand the vibrator to you. Shawn watches the interaction like he’s watching a tennis match. You quickly stuff the toy in your top drawer.

You groan and throw yourself back on your pillows, “Well, this has officially been the most embarrassing moment of my life. M’sorry for the inconvenience or whatever voodoo happened, but we can all forget it happened. I’ll walk you both out now.”

You slide from under the covers and you’re unaware of your revealing pajamas as you move closer to the door. Michael’s and Shawn’s eyes both flicker across your form in appreciation. 

“Damn,” they both mutter at the same time. 

They both look at each other before following you out of the bedroom. You turn to them both, “Good news is that you’re both still in LA, so you can just call an Uber.”

“We don’t have our phones,” Michael comments. 

“Right, that was actually pretty dense of me to assume that y’all had them. I’ll get my phone,” you said, turning back into the bedroom. 

Shawn and Michael take the moment to look at each before Michael sticks his hand out. 

“Michael.”

“Shawn. Big fan of your work,” Shawn responds.

“Likewise. Crazy situation we’re in right?” Michael asks.

Shawn folds his arms over his chest, “A part of me still wonders if I’m dreaming, but then again, something tells me I’m not.”

“Same.”

At the tail end of the conversation, you walk back in while typing on your phone. “Okay good news, there’s a lot of Ubers out around this time. You can both just take turns ordering one while you wait.”

You hand the phone to Shawn first, who types in his address before handing the phone to Michael, who does the same. 

“We can pay you back,” Michael suggests.

You wave him off, “Don’t worry about it. We’ll call this whole incident a weird freak accident and leave it at that.” 

You walk over to the fridge to grab three bottles of water. You slide one to each man, who both stand on the other side of the counter to open their bottles. 

They both can’t help the way that they keep staring at you. Well, Shawn ogling you a bit more openly, while Michael at least tries to play the part of gentleman. 

You’re oblivious to their stares.

“So we never actually got your name,” Shawn mentions. 

You tell them, and you can see each man rolling the syllables around in their mouths. Your eyes flicker to Michael and his current shirtless disposition, “Let me go grab you a t-shirt. I’d imagine you wouldn’t want to get into a car without one.”

You walk back over to the bedroom and you’re unaware that Michael and Shawn are watching the way the shorts ride up as you walk. You come back with an oversized t-shirt and toss it to Michael.

He gives you an inquiring look. 

“What? The big t-shirts are the best to sleep in.” As Michael slides the shirt over his head, he imagines you sliding the shirt over your own body. He imagines that you might like to wear a pair of lacy panties beneath the t-shirt. 

Then he thinks of you lying in bed, splayed open as you chase the intense feeling from the vibrator. He clears his throat before taking another sip of the water. 

Your phone buzzes on the table, “Uber’s outside.” 

The three of you walk to the door as you open it for them, “I’m really sorry this happened…even though I’m still unclear on the how. But it was nice to meet you guys.”

“It was nice to meet you too, honey,” Shawn responds.

“Yeah, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for the shirt,” Michael states. 

You give both of the men smiles, even though your heart is pounding in your chest at how good they look. Michael is the first one who goes to exit the door. 

You’re expecting him to cross the barrier as normal, but you’re all very surprised when he bounces back as if something’s blocking the door. 

You and Shawn frown in concern, “Are you okay?”

Michael looks confused at he holds a hold up to the air and tries to reach across the threshold, “It feels like something is right there.”

Lord, Michael B. Jordan is suffering a breakdown at your house. 

“Let me test it,” Shawn states, as he goes to exit your apartment. 

Similar to Michael, he’s stopped at the door as if your invisible barrier stops him from crossing. 

The three of you look at each other. 

“You guys aren’t just messing with me, right?” You inquire. 

They both shake their heads. Michael shrugs, “I’m good but I’m not that good.” 

You frown at the door before moving to cross the threshold. You move through the door and turn to face Michael and Shawn again. They both look each other. “Okay, how about we try it together?” Shawn suggests.

You step back a little as you wait for them to exit the door. As expected, they both bump into the invisible barrier at the same time. 

“Right…So I can leave my apartment, but you can’t.” You walk back inside the apartment as you close the door. You start pacing the floor as Michael and Shawn watch you. 

Michael goes to sit on your couch as Shawn follows suit. “So let’s go over everything that we know. Shawn and I both were in our respective houses, then we appeared here. You can leave your apartment, but we can’t. It’s clear that we’re not dreaming because it’d be pretty crazy to have three people having the exact dream.” 

Shawn nods, “Right, unless we’re all in some state of psychosis, or it could be magic.” He and Michael chuckle in unison as you freeze. 

“Oh crap,” you mutter as you hop from your spot on the couch and go to get your purse from the counter. You pour all of the contents out as you rifle through the clutter. You hold the One Wish Willow package up to your sight. 

You twist the package in your hand as you spot the phone number on the back. You glance at Michael and Shawn, “I know this may sound weird, but I think this may be the cause of our dilemma.”

Michael and Shawn stand from the couch as they come to stand on each side of you. Shawn grabs the box from your hand, “One Wish Willow. You only get one wish. What? You think this little box granted your wish?”

“You wished for us to be here?” Michael questions. 

“As a joke, I swear. My friend got me this for my birthday, and I jokingly made a wish for you both to be here, but I didn’t think it’d work!” You explain, waving your hands out erratically.

“What was your exact wish, sweetheart?” Shawn asked, leaning against the counter.

You swallow nervously, “I wish for you and Michael to appear in my bedroom tonight.” You cover your face in embarrassment. Michael and Shawn both look at each other. Shawn smirks at the realization. You had a crush on them. 

Michael clearly sees how embarrassed you are so he pivots the conversation, “There’s a number on the back, so maybe we call it to see if there’s some way to cancel it.”

You nod as you grab the box and start typing the numbers into your phone. The phone trills as you all wait to see if anyone answers.

“One Wish Willow. This is Aimee, how can I help you?”

“Umm..hi, so I’m having a little problem. I made a wish tonight and it came true, but now I need to have it reversed? Cancelled? Do you guys cancel wishes?” The words all sound crazy as they leave your lips. Wishes were typically things that only happened in fairy tales. 

“So, what was your exact wish if you don’t mind me asking?”

You glance at Michael and Shawn, “I wished for both of my celebrity crushes to appear in my bedroom, and they did.”

“Oh my gosh, who’s your crushes, girly pop?” Aimee squeals. 

You groan, “They’re standing here listening, it’s embarrassing enough, Aimee.”

“You’re right, sorry! Well, I’m sorry to inform you, but we don’t typically do cancellations. The wishes work on intentions as well. The fact that it came true means that you felt very strongly about it, but the wish won’t be fully completed until all of your intentions are fulfilled,” Aimee explains. 

“What does that mean?” Shawn asks towards the phone. 

“Oooo super sexy voice! You go girl! Well, you wished that you wanted them to appear in your bedroom, so I mean not trying to imply anything, but there had to be a reason you chose your bedroom in particular,” Aimee inquires. 

Your eyes widen. You think back to the quick flashes of images that you had of both men in less than innocent positions. Heat creeps up your neck as both Michael and Shawn look at you. 

You groan. “This can’t be happening to me.”

“So girly pop sounds like you need to take those two beautiful men and let them take you to pleasure town, and then the wish will be complete.”  

“Got it. Thanks for your help, Aimee.” 

“Anytime! Good luck,” she concludes, as the call ends. 

Unbeknownst to you, Aimee sits back with a squeal as she ends the call.

Josh, her co-worker, chuckles, “You know you definitely could’ve cancelled her wish, right?”

Aimee blows a bubble with her gum and pops it, “Duh, of course, I knew that Josh! But how lucky is it that she’s able to have both of her celebrity crushes there to take her to pound town? What a dream!”

She sighs wistfully as she starts typing on the computer again. She turns to him, “Plus, it’s way better than that little creep who wished that his best friend loved him more than anyone in the world. Poor girl.”

She and Josh turn back to their respective phones as another call comes in.

You, Michael, and Shawn take turns casting glances at each other after the phone call ends. Shawn decides to be the one to break the ice, “So….now we all have to sleep together?”

Michael shrugs, “Seems like it.” 

You give both men confused looks as it seems like they’re completely on board for you all having a ménage-a-trois. 

“Speaking as the party that got you into this, maybe we shouldn’t right now. I don’t know, it just feels a bit like I’m tricking you guys into it, and I still want to respect your choice. Maybe if we wait, then the wish will wear off. It’s only been about an hour.”

Michael nods, “I agree. Though I don’t want to speak for Shawn, I know that you weren’t being intentionally malicious when you made the wish. Let’s give it a few days, then we’ll make a decision.” 

“I’m on board with that plan. Whatever is best for you. Obviously, your comfort and consent are what matter most here.”

It warms your heart to hear how considerate both men are for your well-being, even though you know that you’re the reason that you’re all in this mess. 

Shawn smiles and claps his hands lightly, “I don’t know about either of you, but I’m exhausted.”

“I only have one room. If you’re both okay with sharing a bed….”You trail off. You rock back and forth on your heels, “Or the couch is pretty comfortable too.”

Shawn and Michael share what feels like their millionth look of the night as they seem to telepathically communicate with each other. 

“I’m fine with sharing the bed, but only if you are, sweetheart,” Shawn states. 

“Yeah, I’m fine with it too, as long as you are,” Michael echoes. 

“I’m fine with it. I trust you both.” 

You turn to walk back to your bedroom as Michael and Shawn follow. You fluff the pillows and pull back the duvet before stopping, “Wait, I didn’t even ask either of you if you liked sleeping under the blanket.”

Michael chuckles, “I’m fine with whatever. This is your crib, I sleep however you do.” Shawn also nods. You slide under the covers and navigate toward the middle of the bed. 

Michael and Shawn walk to their respective sides of the bed before sliding beneath the covers next to you. You can feel the heat radiating from their bodies next to yours. You try to calm your heart as it races at the fact of having them both be here. 

Who else in the world can say that they have Michael B. Jordan and Shawn Hatosy in their bedroom?

You settle against the pillows as they both do the same. Shawn chuckles when he looks at the TV, which is conveniently paused on his face in The Faculty. 

“I looked like such a dweeb around that time,” He said, with his hand on the back of his head.

“I liked the way that you looked in this one, especially your teeth,” you comment.

Shawn chuckles, “You liked my teeth?”

“Yeah, they just look really normal. It’s cute. Michael has nice teeth, too.” Michael chuckles from your other side. 

“Thanks, and as she said, I like your teeth, man. Anything’s better than those veneers that people are getting,” Michael said.

“Right! They’re like piano keys, man.” Shawn responds.

The three of you pause to laugh at Shawn’s joke before silence fills the room again.

“So this is it, huh?” Michael asks.

“Yep,” you and Shawn reply.

You ask Michael to turn the light off on the side, which he does. The three of you are surrounded in darkness as you turn the TV off. Your body is hyperaware of Michael and Shawn’s bodies, along with their breathing. 

“Goodnight,” you said.

“Goodnight.” You’re at a bit of a loss as you continue to lie on your back. Usually, you’re a side sleeper, but you definitely don’t want to, as that would mean you would have to be in either Michael’s or Shawn’s face.

Luckily for you, both men take the initiative to turn on their sides facing the walls. You finally turn on your left side, facing Shawn. 

You close your eyes and try to allow yourself to go to sleep, even though two of the sexiest men that you’ve ever seen are right next to you.

Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that you have to have sex with either of them so that they can leave your apartment.

Happy freaking birthday to you…

You awaken to the distinct feeling of being too hot. Even with the fan blowing in your direction, you still feel hot. You’re also not lost on the feeling of two bodies pressed against yours.

You open your eyes and blink a few times as you adjust to the minimal light. You look in front of you, and your eyes widen at seeing Shawn’s face close to yours. Your eyes trail over his face, where you can see all of his freckles more clearly, along with the greying stubble on his face. 

You become aware of a body pressed to your backside, and you turn your head. Michael’s head is pressed against your bonnet as he has his body completely connected to yours. 

You lift the covers and find that he’s thrown a hand over your waist. You also clock Shawn’s hand, which is pressed to your stomach where your shirt has ridden up. 

You feel the heat creeping along your body at the fact that you can feel a certain other part of both men pressed against you. The heat travels down as you feel yourself becoming somewhat excited.

Nope, this is weird. Maybe you’re being weird. But they’re cuddling you! 

You try your best to wiggle yourself from their hold, but this only causes them both to grip you tighter. Michael unintentionally grips your body tighter as he pulls you further into his hold. 

This appears to affect Shawn as he moves closer to press against you. Seemingly stuck in the position, you try to settle yourself. 

But how exactly does one settle themselves when they’re stuck between their two celebrity crushes, who are also sporting major morning wood? 

From the nightstand, your phone starts pinging incessantly. Michael and Shawn both stir as they finally wake up. 

Sheepishly, you look at both of them, as they both recognize their current predicament. Michael untangles his arm from your waist, “Sorry.”

Shawn also follows the same actions as they both scoot away from you. Sitting up, you crawl from under the blankets and off the bed. Shawn and Michael both watch you as they lock in your shorts and the fact that they both can tell you’re not wearing any panties. 

You grab your phone and open the text messages. Your group chat is active as they try to make plans for brunch. You also note the text from Kendrick. 

You shoot your friends a quick text saying that you can’t make it to brunch due to feeling under the weather. Despite that not being the truth, you decide it’s the best course of action, especially since it’d be rude to leave Michael and Shawn alone in your apartment.

You turn to face them, “Do you guys want breakfast?” 

They nod in unison. Michael sits up, “Yeah, I can come help out.” 

“Same,” Shawn chimes in. You smile and walk out of the bedroom. 

Shawn looks down at the blanket where he and Michael are still very much erect, and seeing you in your pajamas doesn’t help their situation at all. 

“We’re in quite the predicament,” Shawn states to Michael.

“You’re telling me. You think the wish could’ve worn off overnight?” Michael asks.

Shawn shrugs, “I’m not sure. But you heard the girl on the phone. I just want us to all be comfortable and consenting before we solidify any plans.”

“Same. Though, would it be weird if I admitted that I wouldn’t be mad if it happened?”

“Not at all. She’s a beautiful girl, and she’s obviously very attracted to us if she picked us for the wish. Plus, the lady did mention that the wish works on intention, so it sounds to me like she really wanted it to be us,” Shawn theorizes. 

Once they’re sure that they won’t be flashing any boners at you, they walk into the kitchen together. You’ve already started making the batter for the pancakes. You look up at them, “Any allergies that I should know about?”

Both men shake their heads. Michael goes over to the stove to start cooking the bacon, while Shawn takes the other spot on the stove to warm the pan for the pancakes.

The three of you naturally work as a cohesive unit with cooking food and cutting up fruits. Shawn moves to help Michael with making each of your plates. You take out three glasses and pour juice for you all. 

You start a pot of coffee in the background. As the three of you sit at the counter, you idly chat and eat. Once you’re finished, Michael and Shawn clean the plates, while you make each of you a cup of coffee.

Both men watch you intensely as you effortlessly add different ingredients to the coffee before sliding the mugs over to them. 

They both take a sip and moan simultaneously. 

“This is the best cup of coffee that I’ve had in a long time,” Shawn points out. 

“Thanks, I used to work as a barista at a coffee shop a few years ago. I guess you never really forget skills like that.” 

You rock on your heels, “I’m gonna go shower and change. My friend has some of his spare clothes here that I think could fit you both. You can use my phone to order briefs. There are spare toothbrushes and deodorant here, too.”

Michael frowns, “Your boyfriend?”

“Definitely not! Danny’s definitely checking for the other team,” you respond before turning to leave. 

Both men sigh in relief. It’d be really awkward trying to sleep with you if you had a man. 

Shawn and Michael navigate to your living room, where they both settle to watch TV. They use your phone to order briefs, among other supplies. Before they place the order, Michael puts his card number into the app. 

It isn’t long before the delivery guys drop the order off at the front door. Michael and Shawn try to test if either of them can reach past the door, but find that they still can’t go past the threshold. 

They settle on dragging the bag in with your umbrella. When you walk out of the bedroom, both men’s eyes flicker over to you. 

They can’t help but look at the way that the flare yoga pants hug your curves. What makes matters even worse is that you smell good, and you look even better with your hair all fluffed out. 

“I see you guys ordered something, which means you had to use the door. Was there any luck with passing?”

Shawn shakes his head, “Nope, we had to use an umbrella.” You bite your lip nervously. You had hoped that the wish would wear off during the night, but it seemed like Aimee’s words were true.

You’d have to crack Michael and Shawn for them to leave. 

The men can clock the look on your face and figure that you’re coming to the same conclusion as they are. 

Shawn and Michael both take turns showering and changing. They both look like sin embodied as they step out of your bedroom. Due to Danny being a little smaller than either of them, the clothes stick to them a little more, showcasing their abs and muscles.

Subtly, you press your thighs together, which they both catch. 

As you all sit on the couch together, Michael turns to you, “So what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a licensed esthetician, I own a shop downtown,” You respond. 

“That’s cool. So you do waxes and facials?” Shawn asks. You nod in agreement.

“I guess we know who we can come to, don’t we, Michael?” 

Michael chuckles, “Yeah, maybe she’ll throw in a discount.”

You laugh softly, “I got y’all. But to be honest, you both hardly need my services. You both have really pretty skin and brows already.” 

You move your hand up to trace Shawn’s eyebrow, “The silver really suits you.”

Without thinking, the older man leans close and presses his lips against yours. Once the initial shock wears off, you let yourself sink into the kiss as your lips move against his. Shawn brings a hand up to cup your cheek as his tongue slides along the seam of your lips. You moan softly once the man slides his tongue into your mouth. You seem to remember that Michael is present in the room as you pull back from the kiss. 

You turn your head and find that Michael is watching you and Shawn in amusement…and maybe curiosity.

He chuckles, “So y’all just forgot about me, huh?”

Shawn smirks, “Why don’t you kiss him, Princess? I think he’s feeling left out.” 

You move closer to Michael, who gently pulls your body to his. When your lips touch his, he immediately takes over the kiss. You moan into his mouth as he presses his hand against your throat. From your other side, Shawn watches you and Michael kiss. Quite frankly, he hasn’t seen anything quite as sexy as the two of you. He scoots over to start peppering kisses down your neck. Michael does the same as both men kiss and bite gently on your neck. 

You jump at the feel of Shawn’s hand creeping between your thighs. Upon feeling you jump, he leans back, and Michael does the same. 

You meet Shawn’s eyes, “Hey, sweetheart, we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do. I think that we all can agree that this is a pretty weird situation, but I won’t sit here and lie like I’m not attracted to you.” 

Michael turns your head to his, “You say the word, and we stop. We don’t want you to feel pressured into anything, but we’re both okay with it if you are.”

You take a moment to view the situation objectively. You’d successfully wished for both of your celebrity crushes to end up in your bedroom, and here they are offering themselves up to you on a silver platter. What girl in her right mind would be crazy enough to give up the opportunity to be cracked by Michael B. Jordan and Shawn Hatosy at the same time?

“I’m fine with it. I want both of you.”

Honestly, you should’ve known that the second that you agreed that both men would be on you like white on rice. Shawn and Michael both resumed their kisses on your neck as Shawn trailed a hand towards the apex of your thighs.

Michael has managed to slide his hand under his shirt as he cups your breasts in his hand. You moan softly as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. Shawn takes his fingers to press against the seam of your pants as he starts to rub your center. 

Michael tugs at your shirt until you lift it over your head. Both men use the opportunity to ogle your chest in the mesh bra. Shawn reaches behind you to unclasp the bra as Michael pulls it from your chest.

Michael and Shawn move their heads down to take your nipples into their mouths. As they lick and suck on your nipple, Shawn slides a hand inside your pants to touch your wet panties. 

He pulls back, “She’s so wet for us. You should have a feel.”

Michael slides his hand in next to Shawn’s, except he slides his finger beneath your panties to slide along your wet folds. 

“I think she’d look even better if we took the rest off,” Michael comments, to which Shawn nods. They take their free hand to begin tugging your pants and underwear down. Before you know it, you’re completely bare to their sight. 

They both take the opportunity to grab your legs and spread them. Michael leans over to press a kiss to your cheek, “You’re so wet for us, baby. You want us that bad?”

Your wide eyes meet his as you nod. From your other side, Shawn chuckles before grabbing your jaw in his hold, “We don’t do motions, baby. We need to hear you. Why don’t you answer his question again? Do you want us that badly?”

He ghosts his fingertips across your clit as your chest heaves up and down. “Yes, daddy, I want you both so much.”

A dark smirk overcomes Shawn’s lips, “You hear that, brother? We’re daddy now.”

“Let’s see how loud we can make her scream it,” Michael responds. He gets up from the couch and heads to your bedroom. He arrives a few moments later with your mirror from the bedroom. He sets it directly in front of the couch, “I saw it last night, and all I could think about is how pretty you’d looki cumming in front of it.”

Your jaw drops. Michael is a freak, just as you expected. 

Shawn looks at you, “Keep your eyes on the mirror, baby. I wouldn’t want you to miss how pretty you look.” He trails two thick fingers down your dripping entrance before sliding them back up to circle your clit. He places both fingers on your outer lips to spread you open crudely. 

Michael plops down on the couch and locks his eyes on your weeping entrace, “So pretty, babygirl. She’s dripping for us.” He brings his fingers to your pussy and starts to rub circles on your clit as Shawn holds you open. Soon, both men are massaging your pearl as they whisper in your ears. 

Shawn moves his fingers down to your entrance. He dips the tips of his fingers into your entrance before pulling them out. Your hips buck up to meet his touch. He chuckles, “You’re eager. You need my fingers in this greedy little cunt?”

Your needy eyes meet his, “Yes, please touch me.” 

“Good girl,” they both say in unison. Shawn pushes his fingers inside of you, and you both moan at the same time. Shawn’s thick fingers stretch you open as he drags them along your wet walls. He curls his fingers upwards as you jerk beneath his touch. Michael continues rubbing precise strokes along your pearl as you moan openly throughout the room. 

Shawn brushes against your spot as your pleasure grows from Michael’s fingers. You throw your head back as your legs start to shake. Immediately, both men remove their fingers. Your wide eyes meet theirs, and you can feel the tears starting to well up. 

“Aww…it’s okay baby. You were being so bad. We told you to keep your eyes on the mirror and I don’t think we want to repeat ourselves, right Shawn?” 

“That’s right, brother. Now, baby, keep your eyes on the mirror while we play,” Shawn orders softly, but there’s an edge in his voice that lets you know that he’s not playing. 

“Okay, I will,” you reply, voice shaky with anticipation. 

Michael and Shawn return their fingers to your core, but they switch spots. Micheal’s fingers travel into your entrance, while Shawn’s calloused tips dance across your clit. The heat builds inside of you almost instantly.  

You keep your eyes locked onto the filthy sight as each time that Shawn strokes you, more of your wetness coats Michael’s fingers. 

“She’s leaking for us,” Michael states, keeping his eyes on your ruined face. 

“Yeah she is, but you know I’d really like to see her do? I’d like to see her make a mess,” Shawn said, rubbing quicker circles on your clit. You feel the gradual release building in your stomach, along with hearing the wet sounds of Michael’s fingers slapping against you. 

Your hands go to grab both men as the chord inside you finally snaps. Michael curls his fingers as your release overtakes you. A sharp squeal leaves your mouth as you feel the tingles rushing throughout your entire being. A gush of clear liquid leaves you. 

You try in vain to close you legs, but both men are proactive enough to hold them open and to your chest. 

Your sight blurs and you swear for a moment, you genuinely leave your body. As your climax comes down, Michael and Shawn slow their movements. 

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Shawn quips as he brings his fingers up to his lips. 

“You’re telling me,” Michael comments as he looks down at your release coating his fingers. One by one, he licks each finger as he moans. 

“You taste sweet, babygirl. Can I get another taste?” Michael asks. 

“Please.” At this point, you’re down for whatever they’re down for. 

Michael picks you to carry you into the bedroom while Shawn follows. He sets you down gently on the bed as they stand in front of you. 

“Take your shirts off,” you said, to which both men oblige. 

You turn your gaze back and forth as you admire the different contours of their bodies. Feeling bold, you lean forward to trails your hands up their chests and back down. Your hand goes lower as you cup their length through the sweatpants. 

“Can I touch you both?”

“You can do whatever you want to us, sweetheart,” Shawn replies, breath heavy with lust. You take the initiative reach inside their sweatpants and grasp your hands around their dicks. 

But who should you put your mouth on first? Shawn seems to read the conflict on your face and smirks, “You taste him first, sweetheart. I wanna watch.”

You follow the older man’s instructions as you move closer to Michael. You lick a long stripe up the underside of his dick as he releases a heavy moan. 

You envelope Michael into your mouth as you keep your hand connected to his base. You bob your head up and down while your eyes meet his. Michael pulls you off with a soft pop, “Now you taste him, baby.”

You move over to Shawn and wrap your lips around his tip. You moan at the taste of precum hitting your taste buds. You take him deeper into your mouth as he grips your hair. At the same time, you move your hand up and down in sync on Michael’s dick. 

Both men breathe deeply and groan at how good you’re making them feel. It only makes you wetter as you push your thigh together. 

Shawn clocks the motion and pulls you off. 

He leans down to press his lips to yours and slide his tongue into your mouth. He moans at the taste of himself and Michael on your tongue. 

“Lay on the pillows, baby. We need our taste, too.”

Releasing Michael from your hand, you slide up the bed until you’re lying on your pillows. Shawn and Michael crawl onto the bed until they’re both sitting between your legs. They hungrily eye your glistening folds. 

Michael looks at Shawn, “It’s only right that you get first taste.”

“How about we both taste her at the same time?” Shawn suggests. At this suggestion, you feel yourself clenching around nothing. Shawn catches sight of this, “Looks like she likes the sound of that.”

With that, both men move closer so that their faces are nearly stuffed into your pussy. Their tongues come out at the same time to circle your clit. A low whine tears from your throat at the sensation of both men slurping away at you. 

Their tongues clash against each other, yet neither seem to mind. You bring your hands up to place on their heads as you let the sensations take over you. Shawn moves down to lap at your entrance while Michael’s lips fully envelope your clit. He gently sucks the small bud between his lips as he looks up at you. 

Your legs start to shake again, signaling to each man that you’re close. They speed up their efforts as they both listen to your increasing moans.

“Oh..right there..I’m so close,” You whimper. Both men hum into your center, which sends you over the edge. Shawn laps at your entrance as more of your wetness flows from you, while Michael keeps sucking to prolong your pleasure.

You flop back onto the pillow as you take deep breaths, “You’re both trying to kill me.”

Michael pops up, licking away at his lips, “We just wanna make you feel good, babygirl.” 

Shawn moves up, “Yeah, we’re just making your wish come true.”

They both give you a moment to recuperate before moving to the next position. You give them both a nod that you’re ready.

Michael looks to Shawn, “I don’t have a condom unless you do?”

“Nope.”

They turn to face you, “I don’t have any either. It wasn’t like I wasn’t expecting to get cracked this weekend. But I am on birth control and I’m clean…”

“It’s your call, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine with it. Plus, I really want to feel you both,” you answer. 

“How do you want us?” Michael asks, eyes trailing along your body. 

You bite your lip, “I want you to fuck me from behind while I taste Shawn. Then I want you both inside me at the same time. There’s lube in the drawer.”

Michael and Shawn gulp at your lewd words and you notice that both of their dicks jerk slightly at the words. You grab the lube from the nightstand and set it off to the side on the bed.

“Lay down, daddy,” You tell Shawn, who obliges. 

He navigates to the top of the bed as you kneel between his legs. At the same time, you arch your back and present yourself to Michael. 

He positions himself behind you and groans at your wet pussy. He slides his dick up and down before notching it at your entrance. You move your mouth over Shawn’s dick before allowing a large glob of spit to leave your mouth. You slurp his length down just as Michael starts to push himself inside of you. Once he bottoms out, you all mutually moan at the pleasure. 

Michael pulls back and hisses at the tight feel of your walls to clinging to him. He pushes back in and starts a steady rhythm. 

“She’s so tight, man,” Michael groans out. 

At the top of the bed, Shawn’s mind is gone as it feels like you’re sucking the soul out of his body. He pulls your hair out of your face, “Yeah, our pretty girl. You’re doing so good for us, baby. Pretty ass mouth and your perfect pussy.” 

You squeeze around Michael at Shawn’s words. He smirks, “She likes being praised.” He grasps your hips firmly in his hands as he speeds up his thrusts. 

If anyone walked in now, they’d have no doubt about what was happening in your bedroom. The wet sounds of your slurping Shawn down combined with soft squelching and skin slapping against skin fills the room. 

Michael watches entranced as you start thrusting back onto him. The more he stroke, the more of creamy wetness forms a ring around the base of his dick. 

He grabs the lube to spread across his fingers. Your other hole is practically inviting him to play. Michael rubs his fingers around your backdrop entrance. He goes to push a finger in when you tense up, “Shhh…s’okay baby, it’s just me. Don’t tense up, I gotta get you ready.”

He pushes his finger in once again as it fully submerges inside you. Gently, he thrusts his finger in and out. Once he knows that you’re comfortable, he starts to slide another finger in. You moan around Shawn at the intrusion. 

Michael scissors his fingers around your hole as he continues to thrust inside of you. The combined stimulation has you shaking in their hold again. 

“There we go baby. Come for us again,” Shawn coos. With one last thrust, you fall apart again. You pull off Shawn with a loud moan as the pleasure consume you. 

Carefully, Michael slides from both of your holes. Both men stand from the bed as they maneuver your pliant body into their hold. 

Shawn stands in front, and they both lower you down so that his dick can enter you. Michael places his tip at your back entrance. As he pushes in, you start to wince. 

Shawn moves a hand down to stroke your clit, “Relax, we both got you. Just let him in.”

Michael slips deeper inside you until he bottoms out.

Your eyes roll back, “You’re both so deep.” You miss the mutual look that they both share as they start thrusting inside you. 

Michael and Shawn hold you up between their bodies like it’s an everyday occurrence. Your eyes go down to their biceps and the sweat that’s illuminating both of their bodies. 

“You feel so good, babygirl,” Michael moans into your ear. 

“Best I’ve ever had,” Shawn echoes. 

They both start increasing their movements as the sounds of skin slapping increases. You all moan loudly against each other. Shawn connects his lips to yours as she sloppily makes out with you. Michael leans down to join the kiss, and the three of you are engaged in a messy makeout session. 

It’s hard to distinguish who is kissing who. At some point, you’re pretty sure that Michael and Shawn are kissing each other. 

You can feel your orgasm approaching with how it tugs at your stomach. 

Tears well up at your waterline, “Daddy…”

Michael and Shawn take this as their sign to speed up. Your body roughly jostles in their arms. You can feel both of their lengths moving simultaneously inside of you as you start to shake. 

“M’gonna cum,” you announce, tears starting to drip from your eyes. 

“Let go for us baby. You’ve been doing so good for us,” Shawn praises. 

Michael moves his mouth to his ear, “We wanna see you cum for us one last time, baby.” 

The chord snaps and everything releases. Your loud, watery moan echoes throughout the apartment as you now openly weep on their dicks. You’re surprised that your neighbors haven’t called the police yet. 

It sounds like an exorcism is happening in the room. 

Michael and Shawn can feel their own orgasms creeping. 

“Where do you want it, baby?” Michael asks, voice tense. 

“Inside,” you whine. 

This seems to light a fire under each men as they thrust harshly inside of you. You’re a rag doll just here to be used for their pleasure. 

Shawn groans loudly and you feel the warm spurts of his cum shooting against your cervix. Michael follows after with his own loud moan as he stuffs his face in your neck. His warm cum shoots inside of you, and you can only moan at the mutual sensations. 

Once you all come down from your highs, you breathe heavily against each other. Michael pulls out of you gently while Shawn does the same. 

They set you on your feet, but keep their hands on you to steady you. You look like an absolute ruined mess with tears staining you cheeks and your hair flying every which way. Light bruises and love bites litter your body. Cum oozes down your thighs and drips onto the floor. 

Both men chuckle at your dazed expression. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, honey.”

Once they make sure that they’ve cleaned you up proper, you all slide beneath the covers together. Shawn and Michael scoot closer to cuddle your tired body to theirs. 

“Happy Birthday,” Michael mutters against your skin. 

Shawn looks at you, “Yeah, Happy Birthday to you, sweetheart. Was it everything you wished for?”

“And more,” you reply before your eyes shut. Your soft breathing echoes through the room. Michael and Shawn press kisses to your head as they close their eyes.

Michael wakes up the next morning and finds that you and Shawn aren’t in bed. He figures that you both must be in the living room or in the kitchen.

He slides on a pair of briefs before walking into the open space. He expects to find you and Shawn eating at the counter. 

What he doesn’t expect to find is you riding Shawn on the couch. Your moans and his groans fill the space, along with the slap of your skin against his. 

“Well this is a pleasant surprise,” Michael comments. 

Shawn looks over his shoulder, “Morning, we didn’t want to wake you. We were gonna make breakfast, but we got a little preoccupied.” At this, you throw your arms around his shoulders as you keep bouncing. 

Your ruined gaze finds Michael, “Morning. I can start on breakfast after we’re done.”

Michael chuckles, “Don’t worry about it, babygirl. I’ll start on it for us.”

He moves to the kitchen and starts taking out all of the stuff to make French toast, bacon, and eggs. Michael casually moves through the kitchen and cooks, as if you and Shawn aren’t fucking a few feet from him. 

Once in a while, he’ll peek over to catch enjoy the view of the two of you lost in pleasure. Just as he takes the bacon out and starts on the eggs, you and Shawn moan loudly as your orgasms hit you both. 

You sag against Shawn as you catch your breath. You slide off of him as you grab your panties. Shawn slides his dick inside of his briefs. You both come over to take a seat at the counter. 

Michael plates food for the three of you as you and Shawn thank him. He leans over to press a kiss against your lips. 

The three of you eat together and chat. You all look like a cohesive unit as you make jokes with each other. 

Shawn can see the way that Michael is eyeing you. As you’re about to go wash the plates, Shawn stops you. 

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. Why don’t you and Michael have some one on one time?” He suggests, gathering the plates. 

You nod and grab Michael’s hand to guide him to the couch. He takes a seat and pulls you onto his lap. He pushes down his briefs and slides your panties to the slide. 

Michael groans deeply once he sinks into you. You’re still wet with Shawn’s cum. The other man hums as he is now treated to the sight of watching you and Michael. 

After your little session with Michael, the three of you sit on the couch together, staring at the ceiling. Your legs are in Shawn’s lap while you lay your head in Michael’s lap.

“We should try the door. I mean, as much sex that we’ve had, I think the wish should be complete,” you state. 

Michael and Shawn tense beneath you. As much as the wish was an inconvenience, they won’t lie like they haven’t had a good time with you. Sex aside, both men are taken with your personality. 

The three of you stand from the couch and walk to the door. You open it as three of you stare at each other. Shawn takes a deep breath and steps forward. He walks to the threshold and finds that he can pass through with ease. 

You gesture for Michael to do the same. He walks through and passes through the door. Both men look at you as you stare at them. You fight to keep the sadness off your face, but you fail. 

Shawn and Michael walk back inside and you all sit at the counter again. 

“So…I guess this is goodbye,” you state.

“Well, we don’t necessarily have to stop communicating,” Shawn suggests. 

Michael nods, “I’d still like to keep in touch with you both.” He turns his gaze to you, “I like you a lot. I think it’s safe to say he feels the same.”

“He’s right. I like you a lot, sweetheart. I know we’re probably all unsure of where this will go, but I’m willing to make this work however I can.”

You look at them both, “So, you’d both be my boyfriends or…”

“We can be whatever you want us to be,” Michael responds. 

“How about this? How about we take you on a proper date, and then we can work out the details there?” Shawn suggests. 

You take a second to think it over. You’d had your world rocked by both of your celebrity crushes, and now they wanted to date you. 

You’d be stupid not to explore it. 

“Okay, let’s do it.”

The three of you smile at each other. This was about to be the beginning of something rather unique, but well worth it.

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Jack misses you. 

Which is weird because he sees you constantly, but lately, he’s been missing you more. It doesn’t help that you’ve been acting strange. After your impromptu Love Island night, Jack’s been hearing less and less from you. Whenever he reaches out to plan a date for you or just spend time with you, you text back that you’re busy. 

Initially, he believes that it may just be the stress from school or work. However, the semester is very much over, and Jack knows for a fact that you passed every one of your classes. He knows that because he spent an entire weekend celebrating with you in New York, and fucking you until you were leaving scratches down his back.

So, he suspects that it may be something else. 

He can’t help but think about Robby’s words and wonders if it has something to do with him. Had you grown tired of your arrangement with him, and you were slowly trying to find a way out? What if you had found someone else to take care of you? Now, Jack isn’t broke, but he knows that there are other men out there with way more money than him, who could spoil you. 

But you’d tell him if there was someone else, right? 

Fortunately for Jack, he’s never been one to hold his feelings off or play the guessing game. He’s always been direct and to the point. He knows that he’ll need to have a conversation with you about the dynamic between the two of you, especially because he’s caught feelings for you. Those feelings, which happen to be broaching a certain l-word for the older man. 

He only hopes that you feel the same way. 

You know that you’re being weird. 

You also know that it may be a little childish to be avoiding Jack instead of having a healthy conversation with him like adults, but you’re scared. 

You’re scared because you’ve finally openly admitted to yourself that you’re in love with Jack Abbot. 

You also suspected that the L-word was on the cusp of your lips, but you never thought that it’d hit you quite so quickly. You woke up on a random day, and your first thoughts went to Jack. When you saw the morning text messages from him, there was an immense amount of excitement that radiated through your entire body. It hit you like lightning, and you felt your stomach drop when you realized that you were in love with him. 

However, since the incident at Robby’s house and the text message from Samira, you’ve been lying low to avoid heartbreak. You don’t think you’d be able to handle the fact that Jack is seeing someone else on the side and giving them the same care and affection that he’s been bestowing upon you. 

Because what did that mean for his feelings for you? 

A low pain travels through your head, and you opt to drop the subject from your mind before you end up in the hospital. You pop two Alleves before going to fix yourself a small breakfast. Your phone buzzes on the table, and you flip it over, expecting it to be a text from Jack.

Hotch

Hi, I’m in the area on Friday night. Are you free for a quick dinner? My treat, of course.

Excitement rings through your chest at the sight of the text message. Aaron Hotchner. Special agent and Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You’d met the man in your master’s program when he came to guest lecture for your profiling class. You’d thoroughly impressed Aaron with your intellect and quick thinking when he proposed certain scenarios to the class. From that point, he’d made it a point to mentor you in your career and help you out whenever he could. 

You

Aaron Hotchner in the city, and you want to see little ole me? I’m flattered, and yes, I’m free on Friday.

Hotch

I can see your penchant for teaching me hasn’t left. I look forward to seeing you, kid.

You

Same.♥️

Just as you’re about to put your phone down, you get a text message from Jack.

Jackie🦊💕

Hey, are you free this Friday? I’d really like to take you out and talk about some things

That feeling of dread and despair enters your stomach. Every girl knows that a man saying that he wants to talk about things is usually code for breaking things off. 

Babydoll💕

Sorry, I can’t this Friday, I have plans. Maybe Saturday

Jackie🦊💕

Of course, sounds good!

I miss you a lot…🥺

Babydoll

I miss you too🥺💕

For a moment, Jack’s text gives you hope. Surely, he wouldn’t be breaking things off with you if he missed you. Right?

On Friday, you smooth out your dress and fluff out your hair as you check your purse. Hotch had mentioned that he was taking you to a more fancy restaurant, so you opted to wear one of your more classy dresses and heels.

“Tell Big Daddy Hotch to slide a few dollars my way,” Sasha comments.

You laugh loudly, “I can’t believe you still call him that. He’s gonna blush when I tell him.”

“That’s why I keep saying it. For that man to have all of that experience in profiling and behavior analysis, he sucks at hiding his expression,” Sasha said. 

She comes around the bed to place her head on your shoulder, “Have you talked to Jack lately?”

“Here and there. He’s been checking on me and making sure that I’m okay, but it’s just weird, Sash. Why would Samira be texting him that late and saying that?” You question, fiddling with the necklace that Jack had gotten you.

“Well, we won’t know until you have a conversation with him. Look, I know you’re scared of the outcome, but it’s not fair to you or Jack that you’re holding all of this in. He can’t fix anything if he doesn’t know there’s a problem. You need to ask him about Samira and tell him about Robby’s geriatric hating ass.”

You chuckle at her statement. Ever since you had told Sasha about Robby’s comment, she’d had beef with him. You had to stop her from buying a spell from an Etsy witch. 

“I know. I’m just scared.” You pause before looking at Sasha in the mirror, “I’m in love with him, Sasha.”

Sasha catches your gaze in the mirror. Her expression softens, “I know you are, which is why you need to communicate with him, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good, now go. You know how Hotch gets about people being on time,” Sasha said, ushering you to the door. 

The drive to the restaurant isn’t long, as Hotch tried to be mindful of picking somewhere that’d be closer to your apartment. You walk into the restaurant as you politely greet the hostess. Once you drop Hotch’s name, she ushers you back to where he’s sitting. Hotch stands and smiles brightly as he sees you. 

He pulls you into a hug before pressing a kiss to your cheek, “It’s nice to see you, sweetheart.”

“Nice to see you too, Hotch.” You respond as he pulls your chair out for you. 

“I ordered that wine that you like,” Hotch said, moving your glass over in his direction before pouring some for you. 

You chuckle, “They’re giving out raises now at the BAU?” 

“Definitely not. But I haven’t seen you in a while, so I figured it’d be good to treat my favorite mentee,” He responds. 

It isn’t long before you and Hotch order your respective dishes. You both catch up and idly chat about your lives since the last time that you saw each other. 

“How’s Jack?”

“He’s good. He’s getting big. When I mentioned that I was coming here, he begged to come with me. He misses you,” Hotch said. He pulls out his phone and shows you an updated picture of Jack. You awe at the picture as you take in all of the changes that the little boy has gone through. 

“I miss him too. Who else can I watch cartoons with?” You both chuckle. When you’d come to visit Aaron, you’d typically babysit Jack sometimes, especially if Aaron and the team had to work. 

You take another sip of your wine, “How’s the team doing?”

“They’re good. They miss you. Morgan wanted me to let you know that he’s anticipating your call,” Hotch responds, lifting his eyebrows. You start laughing. It wasn’t a secret that you tended to flirt with the team whenever you were in town. 

“I’ll come visit this summer, but only if I can stay at your place,” You state.

Hotch nods without hesitation, “Of course, you know there’s always room for you.” He takes a sip of his own whiskey before looking over at you, “Or when you graduate, you could come to work with us? We could use someone with your intellect on the team.”

You roll your eyes, “Is that why you invited me out, old man? You’re still trying to recruit me?”

“That’s definitely not the only reason. I missed you, and I wanted to catch up. Offering you a position on the team is just a bonus. Just think about it. Good benefits and pay. We’d even help out with relocating you to Virginia. There are a few houses in my neighborhood, so I could help you find something nice. Plus, you’d be surrounded by your friends.”

You bite your lip at the idea. It does sound rather tempting, but there’s also a sense of unease at the idea. Pittsburgh has been your home for years. All of your friends and family are here. Plus, Jack’s here. 

“I don’t know, Hotch. I’d need to think it over. I mean, that’s a pretty big transition,” You answer. 

Hotch nods, “Of course, I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want what’s best for you, so let me know what you decide. Take all the time you need. In the meantime, I can see that there’s something else going on with you.”

‘Profilers,’ you think to yourself.

Hotch leans forward, “Is it a boy?”

Well, you definitely wouldn’t call Jack a boy. 

“Yes, but I wouldn’t necessarily refer to him that way.” 

Hotch nods, “Ah, so he’s older. You always did have a type. How old is this one?”

You both chuckle as the heat creeps up your neck. There’d been a period of time when you entertained the idea of having a crush on Hotch. Of course, he thought that you were attractive, but he’d never cross that line out of respect for you and his relationship with you.

“He’s 45. His name is Jack, and he’s an ER Doctor,” You respond. 

“Hmm..tell me more about him. What’s he like?”

“He’s amazing, Aaron. He’s nice and funny. A little weird, but you know I like that about him. He’s always taking care of me and making sure that I’m okay. I think for the first time, since being with someone, I actually feel safe, and like I don’t have to take care of them, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart. I’m still sensing that something’s going on. Did something happen?” Hotch asks.

You groan softly, “Yes. First, there was this situation with his best friend, who doesn’t like me. He basically implied that Jack isn’t as serious about this relationship as I am, and that there’s a possibility that he has his eye on his ex-wife and this girl that he works with. Then, when I was with Jack the other night, the girl texted him. She said, ‘Thanks for the other night.’ I mean, what does that even mean? Hotch, he made me feel so small in that moment.”

“Have you talked with Jack about any of this?” 

You throw him a sheepish look, “No.”

He chuckles, “You’re scared, and by the tone of your voice, I think it’s safe for me to draw this conclusion: You’re in love with him.” 

Hotch watches your expression soften as you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, I love him a lot, Aaron.”

Hotch knows that this is serious because there are only rare occasions when you call him Aaron. 

Hotch reaches across the table to grab your hand, “Listen to me, sweetheart. You are one of the most talented and dedicated women that I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Not only that, but you’re beautiful and kind-hearted. Any man would be lucky to have you in his life. Don’t you for a second let some asshole make you forget that. Now, I know you, and I know you’re scared, but from your description, Jack sounds like a good man. Which is why I think it’d be better for both of you if you talked to him about everything. And if it doesn’t go well, you know that Morgan, Rossi, and I will gladly pay him a visit.”

Hotch catches the tear before it can fall down your cheek. 

In the midst of your moment with Hotch, you fail to notice that Jack is witnessing the entire interaction. 

When Robby mentioned going out tonight, Jack really doesn’t want to. He’d rather be spending his time with you, but he figures that he deserves a little boy’s night out. Besides, he’d see you tomorrow, and he’d finally have the opportunity to address the elephant in the room.

The big elephant being that he’s in love with you.

He and Robby get to the restaurant around the same time. As they’re seated, he and Robby both order their drinks. 

“This is pretty nifty,” Jack comments as he looks at the menu.

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot of good reviews from Dana,” Robby responds. 

“I’ll have to bring my girl here. She’d love this,” Jack said.

He clocks the way that Robby tenses up at the mention of you, but he decides not to openly comment on it. After the waitress takes their orders, Jack takes the opportunity to look around the restaurant. He freezes when his eyes land on you. He definitely watches you when he notices that you’re sitting across from a brunette man. It’s not lost on Jack that the man is older and handsome.

Who was this? Were you seeing someone else?

Robby catches Jack’s wandering gaze and looks over in the direction that he catches his friend staring at. He looks at you and the man that you’re sitting with. Robby selfishly feels vindicated at seeing you sitting at the table with the man who’s not Jack. 

Jack feels queasy even more when he watches the man grab your hand in his. He also feels sick when the man reaches up to swipe his thumb across your cheek. The whole scenario just makes his heart feel heavy. 

“You okay, brother?”

“You mind if we leave a little early?” Jack asks, to which Robby nods. Both men pay for their drinks before they exit the restaurant. Jack spares a fleeting glance in your direction, and his heart clenches as he notices you and the man laughing loudly. 

As they exit the restaurant, Jack runs a frustrated hand through his hair. For a moment, he considers turning around to go to the restaurant to go to you. Which is exactly what he’s planning on doing until Robby stops him.

“Whoa, I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but violence definitely isn’t the answer.”

Jack scoffs, “I’m not planning anything like that. That’s my girl in there, and I’m going to get her.” 

Robby sighs, “Jack, maybe it’s just time to let go, man. I mean, that was definitely a date that she was on, and she looked pretty cozy with him. I told you that these young girls were flighty, man. She’s not worth all of this heartache.” 

Jack’s head snaps in his direction, “What the fuck are you talking about? You don’t get to talk about her like that. What’s your problem? You’ve been ragging on her for a while. If I hear one more negative thing come out of your mouth about her, you’ll be right back at the Pitt.”

“What? So that’s it? You haven’t even known her that long, Jack! What? You love her or something? You’ve known me for over twenty years, man, and you’re defending some girl over me?”

“Yes, Robby, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I do love her. I love her so much that I’d go in there and beg for her in front of all of those people,” Jack shouts. 

What happens next is a shock to both men. Robby presses his lips against Jack’s before the other man pushes him back. They both look at each other in surprise. 

“Robby…”

“Just forget it, Jack.” He walks off and leaves Jack standing there, surprised. 

As much as Jack wants to go to him and talk it over, he can’t find it in himself to move. Because at the moment, the only person that matters to him is you.

“Thanks again for everything, Hotch,” You said, holding your arms out. 

Hotch pulls you into his arms before pressing a kiss to your head, “Anytime, kid. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

You nod, and you both get into your respective cars. On the ride to your apartment, you think about the conversation with Hotch. You think of the way that you’ll tell Jack that you love him. However, you’re surprised to see the man standing at your apartment door when you step off the elevator.

“Jack, what are you doing here?” 

He looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes that make you weak in the knees, “Can we talk?’ 

“Yeah,” You respond, opening your apartment door and ushering him in. 

As you close the door and turn back around to face Jack, you’re surprised as he crowds you against the door and connects his lips to yours. Jack pulls your face closer as he moves his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to impart some part of himself into you. When he pulls back, you’re both breathless. 

You both look at each other.

“I love you, baby,” He states as he meets your eyes. 

You open your mouth to say something, but he stops you, “Just give me a second, I love you so much, sweetheart. I know we didn’t talk much about the long-term goals of our arrangement, but you’re it for me, baby doll. I can’t get you out of my head. You are the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing I think about at night. I’d give you anything, be anything as long as it meant that I got to keep you.” elt this way about you for a long time 

You’re speechless, that much is clear by the way that you keep opening and closing your mouth. 

Jack brings both of his hands to cup the sides of your face. He stares deeply into your eyes, “Baby, I love you.”

He moves closer and starts pecking your lips. Between each kiss, he whispers, “I love you” each time. When he pulls back, you can see him searching your face for an answer. 

You do the only reasonable thing you can think of: you burst into tears. And not the cute, polite tears. No, you violently sob as Jack pulls your body into his. He cradles your head as he whispers gently to you. 

“I’m crying all over you. I’m sorry,” you said, voice still heavy with tears.

Jack chuckles, “Honey, you can cry on me as much as you like.” He grabs your hand to go sit on the couch. You watch as he goes to grab a bottle of water, along with some tissue. You go to grab the tissue, but Jack moves your hand as he starts to delicately dab away your tears. 

He opens the water bottle and hands it to you. 

“Now, do you mind telling me who the guy was that I saw you out with tonight?” Jack questions. You can hear the jealousy coloring his voice.

“You were at the restaurant?”

“Yeah, Robby invited me out. We left early because I saw you with him,” Jack mutters, emphasizing the last part of the sentence heavily. He also neglects to mention the fact that Robby kissed him. 

“His name is Aaron Hotchner. He’s my mentor. I met him a few years ago when he guest lectured at my college. He’s been helping me navigate my career. He’s a Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Virginia,” you explain. 

“And he’s not your other like secret sugar daddy, right?” 

You laugh, “No, definitely not. It’s strictly platonic between Hotch and me.”

Jack lets out a sigh of relief, “It’s just I saw him holding your hand, then he had his hand on your cheek. M’sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have doubted you like that.”

“It’s okay, Jack. Funny enough, he was only holding my hand because I was talking to him about you,” You said.

At this, Jack’s eyes brighten, “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. We were talking about the fact that I’m in love with you, too.”

The words hit Jack squarely in the chest. Those puppy dog eyes come back as he stares at you, “Say it for me, please.”

You reach out to rest your own hand against his cheek, “I love you too, Jack.”

He smiles, “God, sweetheart, you just don’t know how good it feels to hear you say that.”

He pulls your body into his as he just holds you for a moment. He breathes in the scent of your perfume. When he pulls back, he frowns for a second, “Now, could you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

You take a deep breath, “Honestly, I was scared. The other night, after I saw the text from Samira on your phone, you still had the Sugar and Spice app on your phone. I just didn’t know what to think.”

Jack frowns before taking his phone out. He strolls across his apps until he lands Sugar and Spice. “I didn’t even know I still had this on my phone. I deleted my profile once we first started talking on the phone.”

He opens up his Gmail and flashes the screen in your direction. 

Dear Silvefox45,

We’re so sorry to see you leave us, but we’re honored that you found your perfect match using our services. We wish you and your companion all the best 

-sincerely, 

Sugar & Spice co.

Your eyes flicker to the date, which states that the email is from six months ago. You feel the wave of embarrassment as it creeps over you, “I’m sorry. I should’ve mentioned it before jumping to conclusions.”

“It’s fine, honey. I can see how that could’ve been confusing. Now that we’ve checked that off the list, what’s this about a text from Samira?” Jack asks.

“Well, she texted you saying thank you for the other night. I just assumed…” 

Jack navigated through his phone again until he got to the messages. He hands the phone over to you.

Samira

Thanks for the other night♥️

Mr. Diaz wouldn’t have been able to get the home care that he needed without your help

Jack

No problem, kid! Was everything successfully delivered?

Samira

Yep! All good!

Jack 

👍🏻

After Jack’s last message, there’s no further communication between him and Samira. Jack smiles softly at you, “One of her patients couldn’t get his medications, so she was frustrated that she couldn’t help him. She made him an at-home kit and couldn’t afford it, so I paid for it. That’s the full extent of it, I promise.”

You groan loudly, “Now, I feel like a terrible person. I’m really sorry, Jack.”

Jack grabs your hand, “I’m not mad at you, babydoll. Next time, if there’s anything that’s bothering you, please come to me so that we can talk it out. I don’t want you holding any of that in, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll do better with communicating with you,” you respond.

“Good. Is there anything else we need to clear the air on?”

You bite your lip, “Actually, there is…. It’s about Robby.”

“What about him?” Jack thinks back to the earlier incident and leans forward. For a moment, he recognizes the hesitation in your body language, “Sweetheart, you can tell me anything. Even if it’s about Robby.”

“He said some stuff the other week when we were at his house. He came into the kitchen and asked me about our relationship. Then, he started implying that you might still have feelings for your ex-wife and some new feelings for Samira.” 

You pause and swallow as the lump forms in your throat, “He also mentioned that you like to pick girls who need to be saved and that you dump them before going to the next.”

The warm tears sting at your waterline. Jack brings a hand up to catch the lone tear as it falls. You sniffle, “It just made me feel really cheap and small. I figured, he’s your best friend, and we never actually made any long-term plans for this. I just got scared that you’d grown bored with me, especially since I was starting to fall in love with you.”

It feels like a weight’s been lifted off your shoulders as you relay the information to Jack. You’d been sitting in this hole for weeks, and now, you were finally able to come up for air. 

Jack’s heart breaks for you. His sweet baby doll feels like she doesn’t want him when there’s no other woman in the world that he’d rather spend the rest of his life with. 

Jack pulls your body until you’re sitting in his lap. Your thighs bracket around his waist as he pulls you into his chest. 

“Nothing about what Robby said was true. My first marriage…It didn’t end the way that we both planned, but I can promise you that I don’t have feelings for my ex-wife. I don’t do this often. In fact, you’re the first person I’ve dated since my divorce. You’re the only person I want to spend all of my time with. I’m sorry that he said all of that to you, but Princess, I promise what we have is real. Don’t worry about Robby, I’ll handle him.”

You nod and lean further into his chest. Jack allows himself to just hold you and cradles your body to his. In his arms, you feel safe again. None of your previous worries were true. It doesn’t help that Jack’s cologne wafts through your nose, and you can feel your body starting to react to him.

You look up at him, “I want you.”

Jack’s own gaze softens as he takes in how beautiful you look, “You got me, baby. However, you want me, you can have it.” You lean back to start working on Jack’s belt and button. Reaching inside of Jack’s pants, you grasp your hand around his dick. He lets out a deep sigh as he watches you take him out. You lift a bit as you push the panties to the side and aim Jack’s tip at your entrance. 

You both maintain eye contact as you slot your lips against Jack’s. Long, drawn-out moans leave you both as you begin sinking on his length. Once you’re fully seated on Jack, he grabs your hips in his hands, “Take what you need from me, baby doll. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

You lift your hips before sinking back down on Jack’s dick. You throw your arms around his shoulders as he gives his own thrusts to increase your pleasure. 

“My pretty girl, I love you so much, baby.” 

Jack increases his thrusts inside you as you both moan together. He’s lost in watching your expression as you fully take what you need. He slots his hand through your curly hair, “Don’t worry about anything, baby. Daddy will take care of it.”

Michael Robinavitch is a bundle of nerves. The man’s always been a nervous wreck, but going into Emergency Medicine only heightened those emotions. However, he’s found some solace in working with Jack. Robby’s always known that Jack would be his confidante along the way if he ever decided to break down. 

He isn’t quite sure where the feelings for Jack started. 

Maybe it was between all of the shifts that they’d had together or the many beers that they’d shared. He honestly can’t recall, but he just knows that somewhere between those moments, his love for Jack just took on a deeper meaning. He tolerated Jack’s marriage to Joanna because she was nice enough, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t the least bit elated when the marriage ends, and it’s just him and Jack again.

But then you came along. 

And there’s a change in Jack. It makes him nauseous because he the thought hits him like a punch to the gut. 

Jack is actually happy with you. 

Robby doesn’t know how to make sense of it. There’s moments of silence when he goes back to his house, and he can’t call Jack because usually he’s out with you.

So Robby does what he knows works best. He sabotages. He knows that’s Jack wouldn’t willingly break up with you, even with him in his ear planting seeds of doubt. Jack was persistent, and if anything, he’d try to make it work with you, no matter what. 

Which is why Robby turned his efforts to you. Despite the beauty and diamonds that Jack had bestowed upon you, Robby could recognize the insecurity. 

He was gleeful when he noticed that you had seemingly started to ghost Jack more. He figured that you would give Jack the good ole “We can’t do this anymore” talk. 

When the incident happened at the restaurant with you sitting across from the mystery man, Robby purrs in satisfaction.

However, upon seeing Jack about to rush into the restaurant to you, he panics. Which leads to the now infamous kiss. In an ideal world, Jack kisses Robby back and they give go back to his apartment to figure out the next steps. And Jack forgets completely about you. 

As Robby stands in front of Jack’s apartment door, he can’t contain the anxiety. Even as he knocks on the door, he feels like he could throw up. 

Jack opens the door and Robby tries to read his face. He can’t. He supposes that Jack’s years in the army makes up for that. 

Robby expects to come into the apartment where he and Jack can have time alone to talk. 

What he doesn’t expect is to see you sitting there. He turns to look at Jack, who gives him a blank stare, “Sit down, Robby.”

He does. 

Robby sits on the couch across from you, while Jack takes a seat next to you. Robby watches as Jack grabs your hand to weave your fingers together. 

“So, I think we all know why we’re here and what conversation we’re having. But I just want to know why? Why would you feed her all of that crap, man?”

Robby runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “I didn’t want to lose you. I’m not stupid, Jack. I knew that you were falling in love with her, and I just couldn’t handle what that would mean for us.”

Jack thinks back to the kiss the other night.

“You could’ve came and talked to me about all of that. Instead, you filled my girl’s head with lies and you hurt her. You hurt her, Robby. And you hurt me too. We’re supposed to be brothers.”

Hot, tears sting at Robby’s eyes, “I know. I messed up terribly. I’m sorry…to both of you. It wasn’t fair what I did and it certainly wasn’t right.”

He turns his gaze to you, “I’m sorry. I know I can’t make up for the damage or hurt that I caused you, but I am truly sorry.” 

You nod in acknowledgement. 

Jack keeps his gaze on the floor and you can feel the way that his body tenses up next to yours, “I don’t want to see you for a while, Robby. I’ll still maintain professionalism with you, but you hurt me and the woman I love. I just need some time.”

Robby’s eyes widen. You can see the way that his breath hitches once the words leaves Jack’s mouth. He opens his mouth and closes it as the tears blur his vision. He nods and starts to stand.

You hold your hand up, “Wait. Sit back down, Robby.” 

He sits. He turns his big, teary, pathetic eyes in your direction. You look at him and Jack, “You care about Jack, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, so do I. I’m not blind, I know you’re in love with him too. I won’t sit here and pretend like I haven’t forgotten what you said because it’s taking everything in me not to beat your ass. But I know that Jack cares about you. He’s hurt, but he cares about you. So I’ll give you a proposition.”

“I’ll do anything,” Robby quickly adds.

You smirk, “Don’t speak too quick. Now here’s what I’m thinking. You love Jack…in a way that’s less than platonic. You have two choices, you can walk out of that door and Jack can decide when he talks to you. Choice two, you have to sit there and watch as I fuck Jack because you won’t ever get the chance to.” 

Both men’s surprised eyes snap in your direction. You look over at Jack, “I just want him to see what he’ll never be getting, daddy. If he agrees, then all is well on my end.”

Jack swallows thickly as he nods to your agreement. You both turn to look at Robby. He locks eyes with you, “I’ll take option two.”

“I felt like you would,” you said.

You stand from the couch and grab Jack’s hand as you walk to the bedroom. You shoot a look at Robby, who gets up to follow you and Jack. 

Inside the bedroom, you point to the chair in the corner. You snap your fingers at Robby, “Sit.” The taller man obliges your request without hesitation. 

You turn back to Jack and pull his face down to yours. Yours and Jack’s lips meet in sensual dance filled with tongues and soft moans. “Sit on the bed, daddy,” you mutter against Jack’s lips. 

Jack eagerly sits down as his sweet hazel eyes gaze up at you in awe. You usher Jack to take his shirt off. As the material lands on the floor, you kneel to start working on his pants. You’re careful at sliding the pants down past his prosthesis. You remove the prosthesis along with the sock and liner. 

You go to grab a warm towel to clean around the residual limb. You take extra care of massaging around it before pressing a kiss there. Jack’s gaze softens more and Robby can’t miss the look of love shared between the two of you.

You glance back at him, “Keep your eyes on me, Robby. M’gonna teach you how Jack likes to be sucked off. It’s not like you’ll be doing it, but I figured I’d be nice and let you see.”

You grab Jack’s briefs as you slide them down. His length slaps against his stomach as you and Robby clock the precum leaking from the tip. Robby’s mouth waters at the sight. 

You grab Jack’s dick in your hands and lick a long stripe up the underside all the way to his tip. You swirl your tongue around the tip as you taste his cum on your tastebuds. 

You moan, “He tastes so good, Robby. See, Jackie likes it when you pay attention to his tip. He’s so sensitive here.” You enclose your lips around the flare tip as you run your tongue back and forth.

Jack groans loudly as he looks down at you, “So good, sweetheart.”

You pull back, “He also likes it’s really messy.” You allow a large amount of spit to trail from your lips and onto’s Jack’s cock. You use the spit to begin jerking Jack off. In response, Jack shallowly moves his hips up to meet your hand. 

“You see how eager he is for me?” You ask Robby. You gaze back at Jack as you pout, “D’you want my mouth now, daddy?”

“Yeah, baby doll, let daddy use your throat,” Jack responds, breath getting heavier. 

In response, you open your mouth as you start blowing Jack. Jack threads his fingers through your Afro as you bob up and down on him. As you hollow your cheeks out, Jack moans loudly. Your eyes meet Robby’s as you give him a dark look. Before he knows his, your nose is submerged in Jack’s curls as he deepthroat him. 

Loud noises sound through the room as Robby had to watch you swallow Jack down. The man in question seems far gone as you messily drool over him. You remove Jack from your mouth you look over to Robby, “You think you could do that better than me, Robby?”

He knows that he couldn’t. 

Jack can feel his orgasm rising in his stomach, which is why he pushes you back, “I wanna cum inside you, baby.”

You leans down to press his lips to yours as he tastes himself on your tongue. You smile at him once the kiss is over, “Okay. I want you to eat my pussy, daddy.”

Jack’s never agreed to something so quickly. You both know that he gets off on pleasing you. Jack’s about to move from his spot until you push him back on the mattress. You climb up until you have your wet center hovering over Jack’s face. 

Jack looks pleased and eager. Any chance to get his mouth on his girl, he’ll take it. 

He looks up at you, “I wanna drown in you, baby.” At this, you finally take a seat on his face. You move at the first flick of Jack’s tongue through your folds. He eagerly sucks your pearl between his lips as he brings his arms around your thighs to make sure you can’t move. 

“Mmm, it feels so bad. Keep going..” you whine as you roll your hips. Your eyes flicker to Robby’s, who’s now sporting his own bulge in his pants. He looks down at Jack’s leaking cock that bobs against his stomach. His eyes flicker to yours before they move down to where Jack’s eating you out. 

You beckon him over with a finger. Robby stands to the side of you and Jack, uncertainty on his face. You pull Jack’s hair between your fingers. In response, Jack groans and this seems to spur him on as he moves his head back and forth into your folds. 

“Come closer, Robby,” you said, keeping your voice soft. Robby moves closer and he’s shook as your hand comes up to roughly smush his cheeks together. 

You lean closer and drop your voice to a whisper, “Listen to me and listen to me really good. You see how he’s eating my pussy? You get to go to work every day and see him coming in knowing that he still has me on his tongue. We could’ve been besties, Robby. Maybe, I would’ve let you crack my man, but you wanted to play games. But I make the rules around here. You come for me again or you hurt Jack, I’ll have my foot so far up your ass, you’ll need Park the Shark to get me off of you. Clear?”

Robby nods pathetically as you push him back. He shuffles back to the chair and listens as Jack slurps on you. You can feel the pleasure increasing as Jack’s nose bumps into your clit. Soon, Robby watches your body shake as you orgasm on Jack’s face. 

You shakily shuffle back down the bed as you straddle Jack. You messily kiss Jack as you taste yourself on his tongue. Reaching down, you guide Jack’s length to your entrance and sink down. 

You both moan in unison. Robby keeps his eyes focused on where you and Jack are connected. He focuses on the way that Jack splits you open and the white cream that flows out each time that you thrust down onto Jack. His mouth feels dry at hearing the loud slap of skin colliding, along with the wet squelches that come from you. 

Jack watches you the entire time that you ride him. Honestly, he forgets that Robby is even present in the room. He moves a hand up to wrap around your throat, “There you go, baby. Ugh..you’re doing so good. You feel so good. I could stay inside of you forever.”

Jack’s words only encourage you as you grind your hips along his. The older man’s eyes roll back in his head as the feel of your wet walls. His balls tense up as the orgasm creeps up, “M’so close, baby.”

You smile, “It’s okay, daddy. You can cum inside. I want you, too.” Jack moves his thumb down to rub at your clit as your orgasm crashes over you. 

You throw your head back as you moan loudly. Your orgasm triggers Jack’s as he moans and throws his head back. Robby doesn’t know who to keep his eyes on. Both you and Jack look like something out of his wildest dreams. 

As you and Jack come down from your mutual highs, you lean down to kiss Jack sweetly. 

“I love you, daddy.” 

“I love you too, baby doll.” 

Gently, you slide off Jack’s length as you bend over to slurp his now softening length into your mouth. You clean the mixture of your combined fluids off as Jack shivers. You purposefully point your hips in Robby’s direction as he gets a clear view of your center, where Jack’s cum has began to leak from you. 

You wave your hips back and forth mockingly as if to say, “You wish this was you, huh?” 

Once you’re satisfied with cleaning Jack, you stand up and stalk over to Robby. You look down at the wet spot staining the front of his pants. You pout mockingly, “Aww Jackie, he made a mess.” 

You reach down and glide two of your fingers through your wet folds. You scoop some of Jack’s cum on your fingers as you hold it for Robby’s viewing. 

“Open,” you order softly. 

The older man obeys and opens his mouth widely. “Tongue out, Robby.” 

As Robby sticks his tongue out, you let the mixture of your cum and Jack’s leak down on his tongue. You wipe your fingers along his tongue before smearing the mess in his beard. Robby looks dazed and pathetic.

You smile condescendingly, “Don’t say I’ve never done anything nice for you.” 

You step away and walk back over to Jack, “You can go now, Robby.” You wave your hand dismissively. 

Robby stands and walks out of the bedroom. You and Jack wait to listen for the door closing. Jack pulls you in his side as he kisses you again. 

“That was hands down the sexiest thing I’ve ever been apart of,” He mutters against your lips. 

“Yeah? Well, we can keep it going if you buy me a new bag.”

Jack chuckles and grabs his phone, “Why don’t we shop online now? Whatever you want, baby doll.” 

“Thank you, daddy,” you said, pecking his lips. 

“Anything for you, baby doll.” 

You peer at him through your lashes, “Jack?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby doll.”

End.

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waking up with an ache between your thighs has been a consistent problem for you ever since he's been gone with aang. for the first week or two, your celibacy wasn't difficult. you missed him, not the sex...

...is what you'd say if you wanted to be sweet. but shit isn't cute when you're horny and your fingers just aren't reaching the same depths as his cock! so naturally, when your ravishingly handsome returned home, you had your fill.

or so you thought. it's 2:51 am when your eyes open, the sleep leaving your body disappointingly fast. you know you won't be able to fall back asleep for quite a while now. attempting to sit up, the weight of his arm drags you back down. right. he's back.

smiling to yourself, you roll over to face his sleeping form, softening at the sight of him. eyes shut, lips gently parted, hair loosely put up. you press yourself against him, pillowing your head on his bicep.

his chest rises and falls slowly, consciousness busy in a world of his own making. you shift closer, pressing yourself against him completely, peppering light kisses across his face. he lets out a faint hum, arm tightening around your waist.

it started off innocent, your desire for closeness—you swear! but with his shirtless body pressed against you, his scent, his arm wrapped around you...it's not your fault that you're starting to get worked up.

at first, you decided that you'd deal with it on your own. before he'd passed out, he'd spent quite a bit of time and energy in satisfying you, even after his tiring trip. slowly shimmying out of his hold, you put some distance between the two of you, laying flat on your back.

you slide your hand between your legs, finding yourself wet. gathering up your slick, you start to circle your swollen clit, but huff out of frustration at the dull feeling. you abused the poor bundle of nerves a little too much over the past couple of hours, and now it just doesn't feel as good.

moving your fingers lower, you slide two into your entrance, curling them upwards. you feel a jolt of pleasure, but it's gone just as quick. you keep this up for the next couple of minutes until you're left overheating, sweaty, and frustrated.

sitting up, you toss the blanket off your body, turning your gaze to zuko. you feel bad, seeing how peaceful he looks right now, but you just can't help yourself. not to mention, he has said in the past that he would be okay with you waking him up for sex...

biting your lip, you shift closer, kissing his cheek. "my love," you murmur. he hums again, shifting onto his back, still asleep. you move lower, slowly running your hands down his shirtless body. he twitches a bit as you get down to his pants, slowly tugging them low enough for his cock to spring free.

you begin slowly stroking it, watching it begin to harden under your touch. you lean down, kissing the tip, eyes focused on his face to see if he's aware of what's happening yet. he's still asleep, so you pick up your efforts. you take half of his length into your mouth, wrapping your tongue around it, slowly moving your head.

little by little, his breathing starts to become shallow, and he moves around a bit. you pick up your pace, and are met with his familiar voice. "[name]...?" he mumbles groggily, his bleary eyes opening.

you hum around his cock and he groans, his head falling back. "what- haah...what are you doing...?" he pants, his hand gently sliding into your hair. you pull back, going back to stroking him. "m'sorry. do you want me to stop?" you ask, tilting your head. he chuckles breathlessly, lifting his head up to look down at you again. "no...just a little surprised."

you smile, kissing his tip. "need you, zuko...please." you whisper, slowly rising to hover over him. he blinks the sleepiness away, his hands moving down to cup your hips. "mm, of course, my love..." he hums, dragging you closer.

you straddle him, pressing your lips to his gently. he returns the kiss, one hand sliding up your back and coming to rest on the back of your neck. you quickly deepen the kiss, gently biting down on his lip. he whines a little, parting his lips to let your tongue invade his mouth.

you start grinding your hips back against his already hard cock, dragging your clothed cunt over his length. he moans quietly, hips jerking up. "god, i can feel how wet you are..." he breathes. "you've become so much needier." he teases.

"whose fault is that?" you mumble, kissing down his neck. he hums, tilting his head back. "i know—it's mine. so i have to make it up to you, hm?" he smiles, rolling the two of you over. you giggle, legs bracketing his hips. he smiles, pushing his boxers off all the way. "don't worry. i've thought about this a lot too." he whispers, starting to kiss your neck.

as he sucks and mouths at your sensitive skin, his hands move down to undo your robe, letting it fall open. "god..." he murmurs, pulling back to look at you. "my beautiful wife." he coos, starting to kiss down your chest. you exhale shakily, sliding your hand into his hair, letting it fall out of its loose bun. you look down at him, meeting his golden eyes that see you and only you.

his warm mouth gently descends onto your breast, tongue probing at your nipple. you whine quietly, arching a little. as he lavishes attention on your breasts, his left hand slides between your legs, gathering your slick. you gasp shakily when he touches your sensitive clit, head falling back.

after a few minutes of that, he slowly begins moving south again, kissing along your stomach. you suck in a breath, gently pushing his hair out of his face. he smiles, hands coming to hold your thighs. he nuzzles against your right thigh, pressing kisses to it, keeping it sweet and soft. you huff, hips bucking a little. "zukooo..." you whine. you appreciate his loving touches—really, you do. but right now, you want him to fuck you.

he chuckles quietly, pressing one last kiss to your thigh before burying his face into your cunt. you moan, back arching up off the bed, thighs clamping down around his head. he eats you out like a man starved, messy and needy, hands on your thighs trying to pull you impossibly close.

all too quickly, it becomes too much. you start trying to run from the overwhelming pleasure, but zuko doesn't let you. before you know it, your orgasm hits you like a wave, his name leaving your mouth in a desperate moan.

he helps you ride through your orgasm, leaving one final kiss to your clit before pushing himself up onto his forearms, his hips nudging yours. "good?" he murmurs. "mhmmm...but i want you, baby." you pant. he smiles, kissing the corner of your mouth.

he guides his cock to your entrance, rubbing his tip against your slit to gather the wetness, before pressing it against you. "you ready?" he asks gently, pressing his forehead to yours. you nod, wrapping your legs against his waist. he slowly pushes in, each inch stretching you deliciously. you mewl, hips lifting up to meet him halfway.

once he bottoms out, he goes still, burying his face into your neck. "fuck..." he pants, pulling out almost entirely, before slamming back in. you gasp, nails digging into his back. "zuko-! fuck..." you cry out, holding onto him desperately as he sets a punishing pace.

he reaches down, rubbing at your clit, mouthing at your neck. already sensitive from your previous orgasms from now and a few hours before, you whimper out his name. he pulls his fingers away, sliding them into your mouth as he continues to fuck you.

you suck on his fingers, tasting yourself on them. he groans—from both the pleasure he feels, and from the pornographic sight of you sucking on his fingers like it's your favorite thing in the whole world.

"mm..." you release his fingers, brows furrowing. "i'm close- fuckfuckfuckfuck, please zuko.." you pant. "it's okay. it's okay, me too. just come for me." he encourages, pushing your thighs up to put you into a deep mating press.

it's not long before another orgasm washes over you, your pussy clamping down on his cock. he whimpers, continuing to thrust messily into you as he spills inside of you, hips jerking a little before he goes limp. he lets your legs stretch out before he flops onto you, panting against your neck.

you exhale deeply, playing with his hair. "that was nice." you muse, earning a snort. "so casual." he teases, kissing your shoulder.

credits: dividers from @ivy-vinezz

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Prickling at the bare skin of your legs. You hadn’t bothered with stockings—it was far too hot with it now being summer and the forest gets humid around this time. Plus the walk was long enough, your skin had started to get sweaty and your cloak was enough as it was. Red as a warning amongst all the green and hanging heavy and overbearing along your shoulders.

You stopped walking in the middle of the path. “Mr. Wolf, sir?” You looked around, scanning the tree-line and thick forgery trying to spot a familiar hood. “I’m here.”

Nothing.

Just the whispers of leaves dancing with eachother, the distant eery call of a bird and the own soft exhale of your breath.

You were about to call his name when you heard a branch snap.

Almost deliberately.

A low growl rolled through the clearing, rumbling through your bones and the soles of your feet.

And then whoosh!

One second you were standing, the next you were airborne, a yelp tearing from your throat as something massive tackled you clean off your feat. Your back hit the floor but not hard. A thick bed of moss caught you, soft and mildly damp, absorbing the shock. Your basket went flying, landing a few feet away perfectly upright.

But you couldn’t worry about the goods because a man was on top of you.

Heavy and warm. Pining you to the earth with his weight which was all solid muscle. The scent of pine, earth, and something vaguely wild entered your senses. The fur trimmed hood covered most of his face, the shadow of it keeping it hidden while leaving only his lower face visible.

A sharp, toothy grin full of big teeth flashed bright in the dim light.

You should have scrambled. Should have kicked and screamed for help or tried to throw him off. You were a capable girl, your mother wasn’t going to allow her only daughter to walk through the forest defenseless and full of god knows what. There was a sharp, hunters knife strapped to your leather garter on your thigh. You could very well grab it and jab it in his throat.

Except you didn’t.

Except your body went soft beneath him. Relaxed, even. Legs parting just enough for him to settle between them like he belonged there.

The man pulled his hood back with one clawed hand and lo behold here he was. Messy brown hair, sharp red fang-like tattoos on his cheeks, black eyes with slit pupils and a grin that didn’t bother to fade. It just got wider.

His nose twitched as he leaned in closer, “Ain’t I tell you, Red?” His voice was natural low growl, rough at the edges, vibrating through his chest and into yours. “Call me Kiba.”

You gasped, partly from his brash takedown and partly from the nerve.

“Well, my apologies asshole.” You shoved at his chest. He didn’t even bother to move an inch. “And can you stop—“ His nose was already working, twitching, dragging along your neck like he was dissecting your scent alone. “—sniffing? I do not smell!”

Kiba pulled back just enough to look at you. His nose wrinkled in distaste and his lip curled. “Yeah you do.” He leaned in again, inhaling deep against your throat. “You smell like the muffin man.” His voice dropped, his eyes narrowing. “Fuck you were doing with him, huh?”

You blinked. “The—“ A laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. “The muffin man? You mean Jiraiya? I brought sweets, Kiba from his bakery.”

He gave you a look.

You huffed, “He’s an old man!” At his silence and unimpressed energy, you rolled your eyes. “Okay yes, granted he can be a little…” you pause recalling seeing the supposedly innocent-apron -wearing-flour-dusted-hands bakery man reading an orange book with a very athletic pose on it, giggling to himself and how he not so subtly stared at your tits while you were peering at the cakes. “..pervasive—but he gives me a discount every time!”

Kiba isn’t amused. Not one bit. Continuing to sniff you up and down, “Don’t matter, his old fart smell is all over you—could smell you miles away—gotta get rid of it.” His hips shift, whether on purpose or not you feel him. Heavy and fat and already straining against the fabric of his dark pants and pressing against your thighs.

God he was big.

He licks at your neck, his tongue incredibly hot and wet, the texture rough almost like sandpaper tickling at your skin. You squirm, eyes squeezing shut and he bites softly at your skin leaving the light imprint of a bite mark.

“Kiba—!” You say, breath hitching already getting overwhelmed.

He growled at your interruption, leaving your neck and looking at you. “What? I told you I’m getting his ass smell off of you.” Then his expression changed one that reminded you what he was. A nasty, greedy ol’ wolf. “And you have to pay the toll.”

You should have been scared. From the start really, walking purposely into his dark territory of the woods.

The was the thing about stories.

The tales babble about that Little Red was afraid.

That Little Red had screamed and needed a woodsman with an axe to come save her from the big bad wolf.

But in this story you weren’t scared.

A toll was made. Exactly one month ago. The first time you caught him digging through your grandmas closet about to cross dress as an old lady and play these wicked games. When you cleared your throat he’d jumped out at you, all teeth and growls and bluster and you had looked him dead in the eye and said, “What do you actually want?”

He’d blinked at you. Shocked. Like no one ever asked. Turned out, what he wanted was simple. Even though he was part wolf, he was still half man. And men after-all only want one thing. In exchange for stopping his little terror campaign against your grandmother: the howling at her cabin, the scathing at the door, and the general wolf-ness of him lurking in her yard. You gave him a taste of something he’d never had sunken his teeth into before.

You.

So no. You weren’t scared.

Plus. Underneath that hood he wasn’t that bad to look at.

Your hand lifted up from the ground to trace the line of his jaw. Slow and sweet. The reaction is disgustingly adorable, his ears perk up and his tail makes itself known wagging in a soft, unconscious sway behind him.

Your lips curved, the berry red lipstick on them making them look sweetly seductive. “Make it quick.“ Your voice was steady. Your thumb brushed over his bottom lip, and then over one of those sharp canines. “I have to be there before sundown. Or else Granny will get worried.”

Kiba stared at you, something lustful swirling in his eyes before he nipped at your finger lazily. “Yeah, yeah.” He looked you over, not even bothering to hide the leer in his gaze. Looking you up and down, his eyes lingering on your legs. “You’ll be there knitting and drinking tea before y’know it.”

His mouth was back on your neck instantly. He sucked hard at your brown skin, tongue dragging rough and slow before his teeth sank in just enough to leave another claiming mark. You gasped, your hand now going to his hair tightening in the messy hair strands as he licked over the fresh bite.

His claws, you could now feel them, sharp and ever so carefully cupped your jaw like glass. He bite your bottom lip hard enough to sting.

Then he kissed you, his lips crashing against yours, tongue pushing inside and licking at every corner of your mouth.

Messy. Filthy. Possessive.

He ruined your pretty berry-red lipstick in seconds, smearing it across your mouth and chin while he growled into the kiss.

You’re no better honestly. Kissing him back just as eagerly, thighs squeezing around his hips. At that, he grinned against your lips, muttering in between kisses “Don’t worry baby, you’ll get it soon.” The pet name does something to you, a rush of warmth seeping into your already heated body. His mouth moves to your jaw nipping lightly, “Just gotta get rid of this smell, yeah?”

“You’re just—ah—“ His mouth had moved from your jaw, to be back to your neck sucking a hickey into the nook of soft skin below your ear. “—stalling.”

He huffs a rough laugh, “Nah, I’m working.” His hands—god his hands, large and way bigger than yours with black, sharp claws replacing normal human nails—begin to undo the laces of your bodice. Clumsy with impatience and hunger. “These are in the way.” He muttered.

You should feel bad, your mother sewed you this bodice, this dress, hell even your cloak.

But Kiba was grinning down at you and your bodice was coming undone.

What she won’t know won’t hurt her.

He yanked the fabric down, your breasts spilling free into the warm forest air, nipples already pebbling from his attention. Kiba groaned at the sight, eyes darkening, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Fuck…never get tired of seeing these pretty tits, sweets.”

At his vulgar comment you exhale, fingers carding through his hair before scratching at his ear. The reaction is immediate, his eyes meeting yours, before you push his head down to them. “Well. Be a good doggy and suck ‘em.”

For once he doesn’t spit out a cocky comment, if anything you can basically feel the you don’t gotta tell me twice energy rolling off him as he ducks his head down quickly.

He latches onto your dark nipple like a newborn baby, sucking hard while his hand kneaded the other one. His tongue swirled and licked at it, the texture pleasurable while his sharp teeth grazed just enough to make your back arch off the moss with a whimper.

He switched sides, sucking and licking again until both your nipples were shiny with his spit and marked with little bites. Your hands stayed in his hair, scratching behind his sensitive ears. His tail started wagging again, thumping softly against the ground as he let out a needy little whine against your breast.

“Shit—keep doing that baby,” he groaned, voice muffled.

You did while he licked at your underboobs, not caring about the sweat gathered there—you’re pretty sure he liked the taste. He gave a couple more of those cute little whines as his bit into your skin.

His lips finally left your breasts looking at them almost solemnly, like he was shortly mourning having to stop before his gaze traveled down the rest of your body.

His eyes were now fully dark and predatory. The vertical slits looking more prominent than ever, he met your eyes and grinned. Sharp, wide and wolfish.

“I’m gonna eat you.”

It was not teasing. Nor was it a flirty joke. It was a statement. He was dead serious.

You felt shivers crawl up your spine, not out of fear but out of excitement. A pretty grin of your own came onto your face as you spread your legs wider, “Yes please!”

He growled. His hands already grabbing at your white dress pushing it up before he disappeared under the skirt, his head completely hidden beneath the white cloth. You felt his hot breath first. Then his teeth at your inner thigh, a bite.

You squeal, smacking his shoulder. “Kiba I swear to brother grimm—ah!”

His tongue that charming appendage presses flat against your panties, licking a slow, broad stroke up your covered pussy. The fabric was soaked already, and he groaned loudly at the taste, licking you through the white-lacy material like a starving animal.

“Kiba..baby..” you moaned, hips twitching.

You heard him laugh, the sound muffled and right against you. “Ohhh, getting all sweet with me, huh?”

You nodded aimlessly, while you felt him use his teeth to pull your panties down. Slow and deliberate. His claws guided the fabric over your hips, your thighs and your knees. You watched him watch you from holding yourself up using your elbows. The moss was almost like bedding.

You watched his pupils blow wide when the mound of hair between your legs was revealed and his tongue once again darts out to wet his lips. He didn’t hand them back. He folded them—folded them, neat and precise like he was handling something precious—and tucked them into the pocket of his pants.

“Safekeeping,” he said, “you’ll get them back when we’re finished.”

Before you could respond, he blew a cool gust of air against your pussy. “I’ll huff and I’ll puff!” The three little pigs certainly didn’t get this type of treatment.

The sudden cold air made your legs shiver and thighs press together, a surprised whimper leaving your throat. Kiba chuckled darkly at your reaction, before grabbing your legs. “Put ‘em on me.”

You obeyed, easily placing both of your legs on his shoulders as he leaned down to get more comfortable.

His tongue easily dragged through your already slick folds, hot and rough, lapping at your wetness like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. He licked from your entrance up to your clit, circling the bud of nerves before sucking it. Your back arched hard, fingers gripping his hair tighter as you moaned loudly.

He didn’t stop there, Kiba pushed his tongue inside you, spearing and fucking you with it—thick, wet strokes that had your thighs easily shaking around his head. It was one thing to feel it at your throat and neck, but inside of you? Truly inside—god it was blinding with its pleasure it gave you.

You found yourself grasping the moss bed beneath you and your head lolling to the side. The obscene sounds of him slurping and growling filled the clearing as he ate you like a mad man possessed.

His nose bumped against your clit with every thrust of his tongue, and his hands gripped your thighs, holding you still and wide for him to bury his face deeper.

“Kiba—baby—yeahhhh, just like that oh my god—!” You cried out.

He moaned into your pussy, the vibration shooting up your spine. His tail was wagging wildly now, thumping against the moss as his tongue fucked you harder, his thumb now joining in on the play, messily thumbing your clit.

You jolted, a high pitched pornographic moan leaving you. “Yes! Yes! Kiba—“

He didn’t let up. If anything, he got more enthusiastic. His thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing ruthless circles while his tongue curled inside of you, reaching deeper than you thought was possible. He growled against you, the sound vibrating through your entire body, and you felt yourself on the edge.

“Fuckin’ drenching me, Red,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to speak against your cunt, his breath hot. His black eyes flickered up to yours, pupils blown so wide the slits were barely there. "You taste better than anything that old perv's got in his bakery."

He then doubled down. Tongue plunging back in, deeper this time, curling and lapping like he was trying to drink you dry. The sandpaper texture dragged over every nerve you had and some you didn't know existed. Your thighs clamped around his head, heels digging into the fur trim at his shoulders, and he moaned like you were choking him and he loved it.

His claws bit into your thighs, not enough to draw blood, but it would leave red pinpricks. To brand you. Another mark to add to the collection blooming across your neck, your chest, your breasts.

"K-Kiba-'m gonna—" Your voice cracked, hips jerking up to meet his mouth. The forest spun. Somewhere a bird took flight, startled by the wrecked sounds tearing out of you because apparently the sounds of nature happening wasn’t enough to leave till now.

"Yeah the fuck you are," he snarled against you, and then his mouth sealed over your clit and sucked while two thick fingers—the claws quickly retracted—shoved inside you, curling up hard.

Your back bowed off the moss, a yell ripping from your throat that he loved. You cummed on his face, sobbing his name, your hand went back to his hair—nails scraping against his scalp as your pussy pulsed around his fingers.

He didn’t let it up. He kept sucking, and fucking you through it, lapping every drop like he was dying of thirst and you were the only water left in the world.

When your trembling finally started to ease, he pulled back slow, lips and chin glistening with you. He took his fingers out, licking them clean with one long, obscene swipe of his tongue, eyes never leaving yours.

"Fuckin' delicious," he said, voice rougher than usual. His tail was still going, thumping hard enough to rustle the moss.

You tried to catch your breath, chest heaving, your bodice still shoved down and your dress now hiked around your waist. Your legs slid from his shoulders, boneless, but he caught your ankles and draped them over his hips instead.

And that's when you felt it again.

Heavy. Fat. Hard. Pressing right where you were still fluttering and sensitive, only his pants fabric separating you from him. He'd popped like a cherry at some point—probably while you were busy screaming— and now the thick, wet outline of him still strained against his pants.

"Kiba," you breathed, eyes dropping to where your bodies met. He was big. Stupid big. The kind of big that made your mouth water and your stomach clench in equal measure.

He grabbed your jaw, a rough “C’mere,” leaving him before he was kissing you again. It was sloppy, nasty, and perfect. His tongue pushed deep into your mouth, making you taste yourself. You moaned into the kiss, sucking on his tongue while your hands roamed his back, feeling the hard muscles through the fabric of his cloak.

He finally pulled your red cloak all the way off, tossing it aside like it personally offended him. Your long, curled braids spilled across the moss like dark ribbons, your baby hairs sticking to your sweat slicked forehead. Kiba eyes focused even more at the sight.

“Pretty girl, aren’t you, Red?” He rasped, one of his fingers going out the play with the curl of your braid before letting it bounce back.

You smiled up at him, breathless and glowing from your orgasm. Although, you could barely catch your breath before he stood up and then tugged you up with him. You wobbled, hands immediately grasping at his chest. He grinned at you wolfishly, “You smell like sex and me which is good,” He growled, nose twitching as he inhaled you, “but it’s not enough.”

Before you could tease about how greedy he is, his big hands gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you clean off the ground. Your legs wrapped around his waist instantly, ankles locking at his lower back. You huffed, arms circling his neck as you held on.

“The tree again?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Hell yeah,” He started walking, carrying you like you weighed nothing. “I’m getting two things done at once. Marking my territory.. and watching those pretty tits bounce while I fuck you stupid.”

He pressed your back against the thick, sun warmed oak tree. The rough bark scraped lightly against your skin through the thin fabric, a sharp contrast to Kiba’s warm, solid body. He shoved your dress up around your waist again, yanking his pants down just enough to free his cock.

You looked down and Brothers Grimm and Three Fairy Bell Sisters.

You bit your lower lip, half apprehension, half raw drooling hunger. His hand was wrapped around the base and it was hefty. One of the main reasons you kept taking this route instead of the safer one.

Kiba didn’t shave—thank god—there was the perfect amount of thick, brown shaggy hair at the base of his manhood. His cock was long and fat, tanned skin stretched tight over pulsing veins, the fat pinky-red mushroom head already glistening with cum.

Kiba noticed you staring and gave himself one slow stroke, Schlick. smirking. “Like what you see, Red?”

You once again didn’t get to answer.

He rubbed the head up and down your soaked folds, coating himself in your slick with filthy, wet sounds. He circled your clit with it, making you jerk and whine, then rubbed it against your gaping, cum-slick hole, pushing in just the tip before pulling back. Teasing. Coating himself until he was dripping with you and thrusting up into you with one powerful, merciless thrust.

“Sweet moons—!” you cried out, back arching hard against the tree bark as he stretched you open. The burn was intense, perfect, toe-curling. He was so thick it felt like he was splitting you in the best way possible, stuffing you so full you couldn't breathe. You could feel every vein, every twitch.

Kiba groaned deep in his chest, a guttural animal sound, burying his face in your neck. His teeth scraped. "So fuckin' tight... always squeezing me so good. Love this slutty pussy.”

He didn’t wait. He started fucking you against the tree—deep, brutal, relentless strokes. Every powerful thrust slammed you back against the bark, making your breasts bounce wildly between your bodies, just like he wanted.

The wet, filthy slap of skin on skin and the obscene squelch of his cock punching into your sloppy pussy echoed through the woods with every snap of his hips. You were so wet he was sliding in to the base with no resistance, just the obscene sound of your bodies fucking.

Your hands flew up into his messy brown hair, fingers finding those soft, sensitive ears. You scratched behind them just right.

Kiba whined.

A needy, broken sound vibrated right against your throat as his tail started wagging like crazy again behind him, thumping hard against the tree. Thud. Thud. Thud. Perfectly in time with his thrusts.

He moaned, voice cracking, hips stuttering. "Fuck, I love your hands on my ears— gonna make me cum so fast, fuck—"

You kept rubbing and scratching them, smiling gleefully through your moans and sobs while he pounded into you. The contrast was filthy and dizzying, his pathetic little whines while his thick cock destroyed your pussy.

He was drooling on your neck, before he bit down on unmarked brown skin, hard enough to bruise this time, sucking and growling. Leaving another fresh dark mark as he fucked into you. “Mine. This pussy is mine. You hear me? Gonna cum so deep everyone in these woods and Storybrook will know who the fuck you belong too. You’ll be walking around smelling like my cum and memememe.”

"Kiba-baby—right there! Fuck, don't stop—!" you sobbed, legs locked tighter around him, heels digging into his back, your cunt spasming around him. “Gonna cum baby—“

He shifted his angle, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust, the fat head of his cock dragging against your g-spot relentlessly. Your braids and tits bounced with every punishing stroke, your nails scraping harder against his scalp and ears. He reached between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing brutal, fast circles. "Cum on my cock again. Wanna feel you gush all over me, baby. Make a fucking mess of me."

When your orgasm crashed into you, it hit like lightning.

You screamed his name, pussy gushing around his cock, a hot flood of your cum squirting out around him, soaking his pelvis, running down his balls. Your walls clamped down on him like a vice, milking him.

Kiba snarled in pleasure, fucking you through it, his thrusts turning sloppy and desperate before burying himself to the hilt. With a long, guttural, broken moan against your marked throat, he came hard—thick, hot ropes of cum flooding deep inside you, painting your walls. He pumped you full, filling you until it overflowed, leaking out around his still-thrusting cock and dripping in thick white rivulets down your thighs, mixing with your own release.

He kept grinding into you slowly, tail still wagging lazily, weakly, as he licked over all the fresh bites and hickeys he'd left behind, tasting your sweat. His cock twitched inside of you, feeding you another spurt of his cum. You could feel how full you were. Bloated with him.

Shaking her head she turned on some music to distract herself. Overjoyed by Stevie Wonder was the first song. She had to laugh at the irony as she tapped along. It was the song Elijah played outside her window after their first big fight and the first one they danced to at their wedding. It all seemed like a lifetime ago but the feelings were still fresh.

A memory from a few months ago replayed in her head.

[Flashback]

The kids were asleep and Annie was getting herself ready for bed. While applying her overnight moisturizer, her husband came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her.

Kissing behind her ear, he swayed gently. “You wanna dance with me?”

Relaxing into him, she started to sway along. “Ain’t no music playin’.” It didn’t matter, they didn’t need music for this moment. When the moment was slow, just the beating of their hearts was all the rhythm they needed.

“I can sing for you.” His lips traced her neck. “What song you want me to sing?” His hands gripped the soft flesh of her hips. Three children had changed her physique in ways he worshipped any time they had a moment alone. 

Amused by Elijah’s playful mood, Annie giggled at the notion of him singing. “I’ll let you guess.”

What started as a poor rendition of “Overjoyed” turned into soft kissing and quiet moans. Their time in bed spent relearning each other’s desires, remembering why their love guided everything they did, and rejoicing in the pleasure of their mutual adoration for each other.

Elijah was on top of his wife moving in and out of her, telling her things that could never be said in front of polite company when all of a sudden she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him roughly. When she released him a wild look was in her eyes. “You want more, baby?”

Not responding to his question, she pushed him back slightly so she could sit up and flip them both over so that she was on top. Her hips seemed to move on their own accord up and down her husband’s thick shaft. “I want another baby, Elijah. Give me another one.” Bouncing up and down, she willed him to cum inside of her.

The same wild look that took over his wife, overcame Elijah causing him to flip them both over again so that he was on top. He pounded into her like his life depended on it. “I’ll give you another baby, love. Hell, I’ll give you two more.” He felt his impending climax and tensed before releasing all he had into the woman of his dreams triggering her orgasm.

They lay in silence for a few moments in the afterglow of their lovemaking both with wide smiles on their faces. 

“You did that, Elijah,” Annie said between breaths. “Is the sex getting better somehow?”

“Shit, I don’t know.” He was still dazed by the feeling of her around him. “In like two more minutes, I’ll need you to ride me like that again.” He pulled her close and sucked on her neck. “You really want another baby?”

Annie nodded enthusiastically. “Do you?”

“Fuck yes. You been thinkin’ about this a lot lately?” His tongue wrapped around her dark nipple. 

She shrugged. “I always wanna have your babies, Elijah.”

“Then that’s what you’ll have and anything else you want.” He took his chance to suck her nipple while his hand made its way between her legs. “Let’s get you ready for round two.”

***********

Heat flooded her lower half while she drove. It was a good thing Elijah was home for the day. She needed him to address the ache she was feeling. 

***********

The house was silent as Elijah slipped in bed next to his wife. They faced each other both taking a moment to study the other—noticing and appreciating the way the years showed on their faces. Elijah’s focus was on the soft lines around Annie’s eyes as she smiled at him. The feeling of being carried to safety and wrapped in warmth filled him as it always did when she gave him that look. He couldn’t imagine not being in love with her. “You gon’ tell me what they said?” 

Shrugging, Annie ran her fingers over his head, giving him a light scalp massage. “What you think they said, Elijah? This ain’t our first rodeo.” 

His body trilled from the feeling of her hands on him but he remained focused on her face and the expressions it made. “How you feelin’ about it?” Without much thought, he ran his hand down her side, stopping on her thigh.

“Good, mostly,” she sighed. “It’s what I said I wanted. You?”

Leaning over, he kissed her forehead. “It ain’t even a question for me. You know I’m happy about it. Why you say mostly?”

“Cuz I just got my titties back to myself like six months ago. Don’t tell me you ain’t enjoyed them. Especially when I woke up twice now with your mouth on ‘em.” The memory made her clench her thighs together.

His eyes zeroed in on her chest, his favorite place to lay his head. “You right about that. I definitely enjoyed free titties but I think that’s why we in this situation now. But I’m happy about this, Annie. Real happy.”

“I know, that’s what I told the technician when she asked if my husband would freak out.” She nudged him until he was on his back and she hovered over him trying not to giggle at his hopeful eyes. “I told her that she don’t know my husband obviously. Cuz my Elijah is wonderful.” She kissed his nose. “My Elijah is an amazin’ father.” Her lips moved to his jawline. “My Elijah was just as excited when we found out about our third baby as he was about the first.”

“Damn right, baby.” Elijah pulled his wife completely on top of him. 

For a moment, Annie just laid her head on his chest and breathed him in. The steady beating of his heart matched hers perfectly. “Mmhmm. And I told her that even with three kids already, my Elijah will be over the moon that we about to have two more.” Not giving him time to react, Annie smashed her lips to his and ran her hand under his shirt.

Just as he was getting lost in Annie’s actions, her words echoed in his mind making him sit up quickly and causing her to roll off of him. “Two more?”

Biting her lip, Annie nodded. “Take your shirt off.”

“Like twins?” He stared at her partially in wonder, partially in disbelief.

“Yep, like twins so you should be familiar. You gon’ take this shirt off or am I gon’ have to rip it off ya?” Tugging at his shirt, she tried unsuccessfully to remove it. “Selfish.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Twins? How?”

“I mean, I’m not clear on the science of twins but I’m pretty sure it happened the way our other kids happened. Still happy about it?”

He rubbed his face as if he was in deep thought before a wild grin appeared. “I put two of ‘em in you? Let’s go!” He jumped up and bounced on the bed. 

“Get down!” Annie laughed at her husband. “That’s why Andie thinks she can jump on everything now.”

Dropping back down to the bed, Elijah covered his wife’s lips with his. Indeed, he was over the moon and elated at the fact that they would have two more on the way. There was no greater feeling than coming home to a house full of little ones who were the perfect mixture of him and Annie. Their little squeals of excitement as he opened the door was his favorite sound. 

“Thank you so much, baby.” He removed his shirt and tossed it to the floor. “Thank you for givin’ me a beautiful family and lovin’ me even when I was too much of a fool to accept it.”

Not paying attention to what he was saying, Annie licked her lips and rubbed his taut chest and abs. “Now, this is what I been waitin’ for. Take them pants off too.” She nipped at his neck. “Hurry up before Junior wake up from his nap.”

Following her command, he removed his pants with a quickness. “You heard anything I said?”

“You heard me say ‘hurry up’ or do I have to repeat myself?” She snapped the elastic band of his boxers. “Take ‘em off!”

“Okay, bossy! Damn!” Though he feigned annoyance, he loved it when she was like this—forceful and demanding. He pulled down his boxers and gripped his hard length. “Gon’ make me put another one in there.”

Pulling up her muumuu, Annie bit her lip at the sight of him. “Yeah, yeah. Do what I pay you for and quit talkin’ so much.”

“Bet.” He settled between her legs and slid inside her. Even after all these years, he had to pause after he entered his wife for fear of finishing too soon. “Fuck!”

“That’s what I’m trying to get you to do, baby.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him to move. Unfortunately for Annie, her mouth wrote a check her body couldn’t cash. Elijah was holding back in a lot of ways, still she came multiple times and her voice grew hoarse from all of the screaming she was doing. Just as her husband finished inside her, another strong orgasm was triggered and she passed out from the amount of pleasure filling her so deeply.

A satisfied grin came across Elijah’s face when he realized the love of his life had fallen asleep in the midst of their afternoon escapades. Giving her a kiss on her temple, he pulled out and got up to clean himself up before returning to take care of his wife. She slept soundly as he wiped between her legs with the practiced gentleness of a man in love. “Y’all be good for mommy. I’m gonna go check on your big brother.” He kissed her belly and went to tend to their two-year-old who would just be waking up from his nap.

When he picked the oldest two up from pre-k and primary school, he managed to keep quiet about their impending siblings. “When we get home, we have to be quiet. Mommy had a long day and she’s sleeping, okay?”

“Okay, Papa!” Their middle child, Andie, exclaimed. “I wanna nap with Mommy when we get home.” Andie was the spitting image of her mama and she was also her little sidekick never wanting to be too far from her if she could help it. The start of pre-school had been rough because she cried for her mama everyday for the first few weeks. 

“You can nap in your own bed, Ladybug,” Angel, their oldest, told her sister. “Papa, when Mommy wakes up, I need her help with my homework.”

“I can help you, Sunshine.”

“You can help Mommy help me.”

One thing that warmed Elijah is how obsessed his kids were with their mama. Sure, they loved him and he knew it but they couldn’t let a moment pass without mentioning her. It was completely understandable because he was the same way. “Okay, we can do it your way. What y’all want for dinner?”

“P’sghetti!” “Fries!” The two youngest kids shouted together. 

“Can I have PB&J, Papa?” 

“Okay. No, no, and no. Mommy just made spaghetti last week and you hardly touched it, Ladybug. Junior, fries is not a meal and the same to you Sunshine. What about pizza or chicken nuggets and fries?”

“Pizza!” “Fries!”

“Okay, we’ll have pizza and fries tonight.”

*******

When Annie woke it was dark outside. She sat up quickly, making herself dizzy. “Shit!” The time on her phone read 8:38 pm. Carefully, she got out of bed and went to find her husband. 

He was sitting at the dining room table with Angel helping her with her homework. He spotted his wife whose bonnet was halfway off of her head. The hours of sleep she had showed on her face and still, he wanted her. “Hey, Boss!” He went to kiss her soft lips. “We saved you some pizza and I can make you some fresh fries.”

It was then she realized how hungry she was. “I’ll eat anything you give me.”

Andie came running up to her mama. “Mommy! You took a nap for a loooong loooong time! I missed you!”

“I’m sorry, Ladybug. Papa should’ve woke me up when y’all got here.” She threw a pointed look to Elijah as she bent down to hug her second born. “You have fun at school today?”

“Yep! I played on the swings and we had a dance party. Mrs. Vera said we can have another one tomorrow after lunch.” She yawned. 

“Sound like Mrs. Vera is doin’ the Lord’s work, tirin’ y’all out like that,” Elijah chuckled. “Go get ya night clothes ready so you can get in the tub.”

“Mama, I’m finished with my homework!” Angel waved her paper around. “Come look at it!”

“And I’m the bossy one?” Making her way over to her firstborn, Annie felt a small body tackle her legs. She looked down to see it was her baby boy, Eli. He wasn’t completely named after his daddy but he looked so much like him, Annie started calling him Junior. “Sweet baby! What you been up to?” She saw that his face and shirt were covered in tomato sauce and picked him up. “Somebody else needs a bath too.”

“Bubbles!” One thing about Junior, is that he never needed convincing to get in the bath tub. The sight of bubbles was enough. “Kiss, Mama, kiss!” He puckered his lips.

Annie kissed his forehead—the only clean spot on his face—and carried him to the table where Angel held up her paper. “Let’s see if sissy did her homework right. How was school today, Miss Angel?”

Angel rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. “Mrs. Seabrie put Ke’onte at my table again today and he acted a whole fool. Mr. Biggs had to come get him. I hope she don’t move him again.”

While Andie was Annie’s spitting image, Angel had her mama’s whole personality. “I’ll have to talk to her about that. He can’t keep disruptin’ your learnin.” She looked down at the paper and saw it was math. They were learning how to identify the names and values of coins. “Well, you certainly didn’t need me for this. Papa can count money in his sleep.”

“He said if I get an A on my test, he’ll give me a dollar.”

Annie shook her head. “Nah, an A is worth at least $5 but I bet we can talk him up to $10.”

A wide smile broke across Angel’s face. “Yeah! I can put it in my piggybank and I’ll have—” she did the calculations in her head. “$249.63!”

The amount surprised Annie. “Sunshine, how do you still have that much money when your Papa took you shoppin’ this weekend?”

“Papa said I’m not supposed to spend money when he around,” Angel shrugged. 

“You know what? He ain’t wrong. Spend all his money, baby!” She gave her daughter a high five. “Go get your stuff ready for bed. And you, Mr. Ketchup Face—” She smiled down at her youngest. “Let’s get you ready for bed too.”

“Want blueberries, Mama!” He pointed in the direction of the kitchen. 

“You want blueberries? Okay, but you can’t tell Ladybug. You know how crazy she is about her blueberries.”

Once all the kids had been bathed and put to bed, Annie and Elijah sat at the dining room table while Annie ate pizza, fries, potato chips, and baby carrots. “They give you any trouble today?”

“Nah,” Elijah shook his head. “You know Sunshine just wanna read, Ladybug wanted to show me a new flip she learned, and Junior—Okay, so he did give me a run for my money a lil bit, I ain’t gone lie.”

Annie gasped. “My baby? No he didn’t! He’s just the sweetest lil thing.”

“They call ‘em terrible twos for a reason, baby. He didn’t eat half of his food, kept throwing his toys across the room and climbing on stuff. Yo sweet baby get into everything when you ain’t lookin. That’s why he went to bed so easily. Tired himself out.”

“I think you exaggeratin’, Elijah.”

“I think you in denial, Boss. You’ll see soon enough. He can’t keep up that sweet act forever.”

“And you still spoil him just like you do the girls.”

“Aw, yeah! When he ain’t tryna jump off the counter, he cool people.”

“You ready to add two more cool people?”

“Yep!” He nodded vigorously. 

“Elijah,” Annie said, her tone serious. “You know I’m worried about space. Junior is still in the nursery and the office is too small.”

“So we can put Junior in the office and put another crib in the nursery for now.”

“We’ll have to sell the house, won’t we?” Tears came to her eyes at the thought of selling the house they bought together before they got married. She thought they’d be here longer than the ten years they had.

“Baby, it’ll be fine. We’ll find a bigger place and you’ll love it like you love it here.” He moved his chair closer to hers and pulled her to him. 

“But I walked all my babies through that door, Elijah and they took their first steps on these floors. We been measuring their height on the kitchen archway.” She leaned against her husband. “We gotta start all of that over?”

He rubbed her soft belly imagining it bigger and moving under his hand. “We just need maybe three extra rooms. Everything else we ain’t startin’ over, just…transferrin’.”

“Hmm,” Annie hummed and closed her eyes. If there was anything she could count on, it was Elijah’s level-headedness. She never knew why she bothered worrying so much when he’d jump in and alleviate her fears. Her eyes popped open. “Wait, did you say three extra bedrooms?”

********************

With Elijah returning to work, Annie returned to drop off and pick up duties. The morning had been normal enough and the girls were up getting ready while Annie packed their lunches.

Andie came rushing into the kitchen with her shoes on the wrong feet like she saw something she couldn’t believe. “Mommy, Angel said you and Papa got married. I thought Papa was your boyfriend.” Her little eyebrows scrunched and her head tilted in disbelief.

Going over to her middle child, she crouched down and tapped on each foot to let her know to make the correction. “Ladybug, why do you think Papa is my boyfriend? How do you even know what a boyfriend is?” 

“Because Micah said when she is grown she is gonna move in with her boyfriend. You and Papa live together so he is your boyfriend.”

Annie had to chuckle at the innocence of her child. “We gotta keep you away from Micah, Ladybug.” The youngest child of Elijah’s Uncle Jed and Aunt Ruth could be a wild one when she didn’t get her way. “Me and Papa are married so he’s my husband and I’m his wife.” 

Crossing her little arms across her chest, her lips turned to a deep pout. “Why I wasn’t there when you got married?”

“Now what did we say about that poutin’? Fix ya face, Ladybug,” Annie said sternly waiting until her daughter’s face relaxed. “You couldn’t be at our wedding because you weren’t born yet, babygirl.” She smoothed down Andie’s edges so they laid flat.

“Was Angel born yet?”

Shaking her head, Annie chuckled. “No, she wasn’t so she didn’t get to see me and Papa get married either. Go on get your book bag and jacket. Tell Angel to turn that TV off. I gotta go get your brother up.”

She nodded her head sadly. “I want to see you get married to Papa.” Turning away from her mother, she stomped back to her room.

When Annie dropped them off at school, Andie started to cry. “Ladybug, what’s wrong? I thought you wanted to go to your dance party.”

“You and Papa will get married again without me and I want to be there, not at school.” Tears rolled down her small face as she held on to Annie. 

Annie used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe Andie’s face before pulling out a small tub of Vaseline she kept in her purse. “I promise you we won’t. We’ll wait until you get out of choir practice with Aunt Ruth to get married again.” She spread the Vaseline over the little girls’ face and cleared up the traces of her tears. “I’ll call Papa and let him know, okay?” 

Nodding, Andie gave her mama one final hug and wiped her eyes. “Okay, Mommy.”

“Oo! Mommy, you should make cupcakes for the wedding!” Angel squealed, not being one to waste an opportunity to get sweets from her mama. “Let’s go Ladybug so Mama can start making the cupcakes.” She grabbed her little sister’s hand and led her to the school building. “Bye, Mommy! We want chocolate and strawberry!” 

Annie groaned once they were in the building. She looked in the back at Eli who was happily playing with the toy steering wheel on his carseat. “You want cupcakes too, Eli?”

He threw his hands up and smiled big. “Cupcake!”

Elijah called around lunch time to check on his wife and see if he needed to pick up anything from the store. 

“Some white icing for the cupcakes because I don’t feel like makin’ it.”

“Why are you making cupcakes?”

“For our wedding, Papa! Your child, Elijah, she just could not handle the fact that she didn’t see us get married. Just cryin’ and sad. I don’t even think she fully knows what a wedding is.”

“Ah, my Ladybug,” Elijah chuckled knowing exactly which of his kids it was just on the description alone. “How did this even come up?”

“She thought you were my boyfriend and Sunshine had to tell her that we’re married and it spiraled from there. I promised her we wouldn’t get married again when she was in school and now I’m making cupcakes for our impending nuptials. And you already know which child asked for cupcakes.”

“From boyfriend to fiancé to husband in one day? This is movin so fast, to be honest. What’s next—three kids with two on the way?”

Annie rolled her eyes and laughed. “You just better be at that alter tonight. Sunshine has soccer practice tonight so I’ll go pick her up. Aunt Ruth is gonna drop Andie off after choir practice at the church. Should I even make cupcakes?”

“You better! Sunshine gon’ be waitin’ for ‘em, wedding or not. I’ll pick up the icing before I get home. What we havin’ for dinner?”

“I don’t know. I feel like all I want to eat is fruit right now. Can you get some more kiwis at the store?” She had finished off the rest of the kiwis in the house and now was on the hunt for an apple. “That pizza didn’t sit well last night. What you want to eat?”

“If you feelin’ up to it, Boss, some of that beef and broccoli you made a few months ago with rice? I know it ain’t what we had on our first wedding night.”

“Good, because I ain’t makin’ no salmon and roasted chicken tonight so beef and broccoli it is.”

They talked a little bit longer, mostly wanting to hear each other’s voices, before they got off the phone. Annie made sure they had what they needed for dinner and went to check on Eli.

She looked in the nursery and saw his bed was empty. “Junior? Where are you?” Walking in, she looked around to see if he’d hidden behind something. She checked the closet, under the bed, and even behind the curtain. “Junior, mommy wants to give you a kiss but I can’t find you!” Pausing, she listened to the sounds in the house—it was too quiet. Moving as quickly as she could, she went into she and Elijah’s bedroom and heard movement in their bathroom. “Gotcha!” 

There sat Junior with his face covered in his Papa’s shaving cream. “Mommy, look!” He grinned proudly at his work.

Annie pulled out her phone to take pictures to send to Elijah. She thought about their conversation last night Lifting the little boy off the ground, she couldn’t help but laugh at his face. “You can’t be usin’ Papa’s stuff like this now.” She sat him on the countertop and grabbed a towel to clean his face. “Why didn’t you come get Mommy after your nap?”

“I pee, Mommy!” He giggled from the towel tickling his face. 

Annie checked to see if she’d have to change his Pull-Up but it was dry. Potty training was going okay but there were still accidents and he still hadn’t been able to go to the bathroom without help. A pang of fear came over her thinking that maybe he went to potty somewhere in the house. “Where did you pee, baby?”

He pointed to the toilet. “I pee there.”

Looking over, she saw the seat had been lifted and sure enough there was evidence that he had went to the potty all by himself. Squealing, she squeezed her son and spun him around. “My big boy went to the potty by himself! Aww!” Tears sprang to her eyes at the realization that her baby was growing up. 

“No cry, Mommy!” Junior’s little lip quivered at the sight of his mama’s tears. “Kiss!” He puckered his lips and leaned toward her assuming that a kiss would make it all better.

She leaned down so he could give her a kiss on her forehead. “My baby is a big boy now! Aww! You’ll probably be driving soon.” Sniffling, she continued to clean his face. “Your Papa is gonna be so happy!” She let the toilet seat down and flushed. “Gotta remember to let the seat down and flush every time you potty. And then we do what?” She rubbed her hands together as a clue.

“Wash hands!” Eli grabbed the soap dispenser and pressed down on it getting more than he needed. “Uh-oh! Too much, Mommy!”

“Give Mommy some.” She took some of the soap and washed their hands together. This was the simple part of motherhood but also the most heartbreaking—teaching them the little things they needed to know so they needed her less and less. Tears came to her eyes again at the thought of her kids growing up; even the ones who weren’t born yet. Sniffling, she grabbed a clean cloth to dry their hands and dab at her tears. “Mommy is so proud of you, Eli.”

***********

Elijah was greeted with the sound of the kids playing in the living room and a delicious smell wafting from the kitchen as he walked into the house. “I heard there was supposed to be a wedding tonight so I brought somethin’ for the cupcakes and somethin’ for the bride!” He held up the bag of icing and a mid-sized bouquet and stood in place as the kids ran to him.

“Papa! You and Mommy gettin’ married!” Andie jumped in his arms. “Mommy has to wear a white dress and you have to wear a tie.”

“You can wear your church clothes,” Angel suggested reaching for the icing. “I’ll take this to Mommy.” She hurried away in hopes of having a sample before dinner.