SilverFoxWhore

Maybe if it was just some harmless flirtation, you'd get over it. But your one time thing had turned into a several time thing, and now you, perhaps stupidly, wanted more.

It was hard not to. He was kind, intelligent, and handsome. You got along well, personality wise. You tried to tell yourself that it wasn't all about the sex, and really, it wasn't.

There was a difference between rushed, heated sex in the back of his truck, and the sex you'd had in his bed.

A difference between quickly chasing release and the slow, intimate way he'd fucked you when he'd had you caged beneath him.

There had been no rush, then. He'd been almost lazy when he'd gathered your wrists in one big hand and pinned them loosely above your head, nuzzling against your throat and telling you to be good for me, honey, that's it-

You splash freezing water over your face in the station bathroom; it has nothing to do with the weather, either, and entirely too much to do with your Battalion Chief and the push-ups you'd seen him leading when you'd climbed out of the rig that you'd been in the back of.

It had been your turn to check the interior equipment, had taken up a decent amount of time. You hadn't expected the station garage to be occupied when you were done.

You wouldn't have paid much attention to the rookies doing their push-ups, uncaring, but he was showing them the right formation.

That had gotten - and kept - your attention. Your cheeks had felt a little warm, and you'd excused yourself.

Groaning to yourself, you dry your face and huff. This can't continue. You need to talk to him, need to work out what the hell you're doing.

He's back in his office when you leave the bathroom; you can hear the faint sound of classical music playing through the Bluetooth speaker.

You don't care for it yourself, but you know it helps him focus and think. Regardless, you knock on the half open door before you let yourself in, close it behind you.

Brett looks up from the paperwork he's reading; you don't think he's so much reading it as frustrated by it, if the way he's tapping a pen against it is anything to go by.

At the sight of you, he puts the pen down, takes his glasses off, raises an eyebrow.

"Um. Hi?" You offer, once again feeling a little uncertain under his gaze.

There's a certain intensity to him, to the way he looks at people. Reads people. You know that it's incredibly difficult to hide your feelings from him; he always seems to know what you're feeling or what mood you're in without even speaking.

"Everything okay? You headed inside to clean up pretty quick."

From the slight amusement in his voice, you can tell you've been busted; that he knows all too well what the sight of him doing physical activity does to you. The sight of him in general, because you've run your mouth about it every single time you've been intimate.

"I- yeah, I mean, I just... It was warm in the rig."

Brett thinks the way you get all flustered is kind of adorable. Watches the tip of your tongue trace your bottom lip, gets immediately distracted by that.

Your lips are pretty, always so soft against his. He also knows, all too well, that they're barely a shade or two lighter than your nipples.

The thought - and memory - of your breasts has him half hard in his cargo pants. They're soft under his touch, your nipples pebbled.

He remembers the way he had sucked one into his mouth, dragged his teeth gently across the little bud. The way you had moaned for him, tugged on his curls.

You watch his gaze land on your lips, flicker down briefly, immediately know what he's thinking. You feel warm all of a sudden, a jolt to your core, as you remember the way he had laved your nipples with attention, licked and sucked at them.

The way he had asked you to trust him, had restrained your hands with soft rope, bound you to the headboard and left you there, briefly.

You hadn't known what to expect. Torment, perhaps. Maybe for him to tie a vibrator to you and edge you with it until you cried.

The reality had been so much better than expected.

He had returned with a small jar of honey, one of those sticks used for it. When you'd looked at him in aroused confusion, he had smirked.

"The only way to make these-" he had caressed your breasts gently, "any sweeter."

You'd never really considered anything like this, but you'd watched, drooling slick, as he slowly let honey drip from the wand onto your nipples, down the curve of your breasts.

Once he was done, he'd set that aside, pulled you into his lap, and rubbed slow, perfect circles around your clit with his callused thumb as he took his time with you.

He'd looked up at you with those intense hazel eyes as the tip of his tongue dragged slowly over your pebbled nipples, licking the honey from the dusky buds with a low, obscene groan.

There hasn't been any rush; Brett had seemed perfectly content just teasing you, drawing those slow circles around your clit, making you whimper and writhe in his lap.

The entire time, he had slowly lapped at your breasts, licking up the dripping honey, sucking gently on your nipples, swirling his tongue around them to make sure he cleaned the stickiness away.

You'd cum just from that external stimulation, from him just focusing on the one side of your chest and rubbing your clit.

"So good for me-" he had purred, rewarded you with two fingers slid inside you as he'd switched to your other breast, groaned softly against your sticky skin.

You had gushed over his palm by the time he was done, and only then had he slipped his cock inside you, fucked you until your voice had cracked screaming his name.

It's difficult not to remember all of that as you stand in his office, just his desk between you. The memory hangs heavy between you, and you know, instinctively, that he's thinking about it, too.

Brett's finding it increasingly difficult to just be your Chief; every time he looks at you, he thinks about you in a strictly non platonic way.

He's been with women since his wife passed, but he's never quite been able to make that step beyond something extremely casual.

It's different with you, not just because of the power imbalance. Not that he really cares about that; Lydia had been above him in the hierarchy, after all.

"Listen..." He runs a hand through his unruly curls, the light in his office really highlighting the lingering cinnamon shade. "We crossed a line."

Brett watches the way you cross your arms over your chest, not in a frustrated way, but almost defensive. Protective. Like you're trying to shield yourself from something that's going to hurt.

He's right; you take his words as a negative, but you don't want to show him that it hurts. You want to be mature about this. To show that you're not just some silly, immature person to match your age.

Because you might be in your thirties, but that's still a fair way from fifty.

"Oh, we did more than cross it," you offer with a little smile, try to make it a joke.

Brett shakes his head, amused in spite of himself, because you're right.

"We can't keep crossing these lines, sneaking around." He tells you softly, "it's not right."

Hurt flickers across your face, and only then does he realise that you're completely misunderstanding what he's trying to say.

"What I mean is. We keep doing this, and I want to keep doing this. I want you. But we can't keep sneaking around."

You blink at him as he circles round the desk, cups your face in his hands.

"What do you mean?" You ask, peer up at him through your lashes, because you need to hear him say it.

Need the reassurance that he wants this. That the man who has held you in his arms, has moaned your name as he's cum inside you, has feasted on honey dripping over your nipples, who you're slowly falling for, isn't going anywhere.

"There's an unspoken rule about relationships with a power imbalance," he tells you, "at least, within Cal Fire. As long as you don't try to hide it, it's not looked on too unfavorably. Too many people date and marry above or below their rank for it to be a huge issue."

You nod slowly, because you've heard this. It really is a common situation. But you also know that open communication is a big part of it. Sneaking around is looked on in less of a positive light because it seems like having something to hide.

"So, I want to know what you think about doing the disclosure paperwork with the Division Chief. I want you. Want you to be mine."

His thumb brushes across your cheek, a habit he has that you love. Then again, you love whenever he touches you with those big, surprisingly gentle hands.

Blinking at him in surprise, you nod, tears of relief welling in your eyes.

"Yes," you tell him, before you stand on your toes and kiss him, a kiss he returns, uncaring who may walk in and see.

For the first time in a long time, he's ready to see where this goes, for real.

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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When Andrew Cody first asked you on a date, you had been hesitant to accept.  Because, well, he was a Cody. And everyone who lived in Oceanside knew what that meant. Blood money, guns, and danger. Pope especially was known as a loose cannon. But you had ultimately accepted, and the small smile that graced his face was enough to tell you that maybe you could take a chance on him. So you did. He picked you up at your apartment, hands nervously wringing together and eyes wide and unsure, helping you into his truck and looking at you with disbelief, like he wasn’t actually sure you were real. It was the same look that he donned when you eloped a few years later, looking at you with adoration from the other end of the small altar (it was really a pop-up table in the middle of a park, but it served its purpose). 

And, truly, you couldn’t believe he was real either. Andrew was such a provider. You knew what he did for work, and you had your objections at first, but after you got married, he scaled back. He only did jobs that he wanted to do, planned by his brothers, and never involving his mother. You didn’t see them much, only occasionally when Deran and Craig decided to come visit. Smurf decided to cut her losses after Andrew had made a stand against her, very clearly choosing you and your new life together over whatever nightmare of manipulation she curated. You were so proud of Andrew for taking control of his life. He had bought a property in the country after learning you were pregnant, citing the need for your kid to be able to explore nature and run as much as they wanted. He was such a good father, staying home while you worked your job, and providing for his family in every way imaginable. Groceries? Covered. Bad day at work? Bath and herbal tea ready. Gas? Your car was always full. Hell, your son, even though he was only a year old, was already on the waitlist for the most prestigious pre-school in the area. Over the years, Andrew had built a life for himself outside of simply being his family’s attack dog. He hadn’t softened, per se, but he allowed himself to relax. At least a little.

You looked out the window of your kitchen with fondness. Andrew was sitting on a blanket in your yard, holding your son in his lap and bouncing him absent-mindedly. A bird flew past and he leaned down to his eye level, pointing it out. Your son giggled and your smile widened further, if that was even possible. You grabbed the soda you had come in for and quickly walked back outside. It was nearing the end of summer, and while the sun still warmed your skin, you could feel the chill of the approaching night starting to nip at your neck. You pulled your sweater tighter around your torso as you handed Andrew the can and settled down next to him. 

“Thanks,” he popped open the tab and took a sip before setting it down carefully in the grass. The blanket faced the mountains and you watched as the sun painted them a warm golden-pink color. You rested your head on Andrew’s shoulder and sighed. “Rough day?” He hummed, leaning his head against yours. Your son crawled out of Andrew’s lap and picked fist-fulls of grass from the lawn. You both watched him with soft smiles. 

“Yea,” you confirmed “That one client is being really difficult. And of course, because I’m in a senior position, I have to figure out a way to make him accept the offer.” Andrew’s fingers intertwined with yours and brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your hand. 

“He’s an asshole.”

“Andrew.” You gestured to your son, who was trying to grab a stick off the ground. Andrew huffed with amusement.

“He doesn’t understand what I’m saying.”

“I don’t want his first word to be a swear.” You murmured and your husband pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“M’sorry, you’re right.” A pause and a smirk. “It’s gonna be ‘dada’.” You rolled your eyes. You had had this conversation multiple times.

“You wish,” You scoffed “He’s mama’s boy, aren’t you?” Your son turned to look at you with a giggle and crawled into your lap. You wrapped him in your arms and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He was only a year old, but he already looked so much like Andrew. His hair was auburn and starting to curl against his neck. You were hesitant to take him for his first haircut, it was growing out so beautifully. Freckles spattered across his nose and his big, brown eyes looked up at you with the same expression as his father: like you had hung the moon and stars in the sky. 

“I thought I was your boy,” Andrew pouted, nuzzling into your cheek. You turned and bumped your nose against your husband’s.

“You are,” You confirmed softly. “Always.”

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

The past year had been rough. After returning to work after maternity leave, you were plunged into new projects. You had thought your coworkers were being polite when they said they couldn’t function without you, but apparently they had been telling the truth. Somehow, in the span of twelve short weeks, your company had managed to piss off the owner of the biggest account. And when you came back, your boss had come in and practically begged on her hands and knees for you to help reign him back in. It was all you could think about for the past seven months. He was unmoving, stubborn, ‘old-school’. Most of your waking hours were spent concocting ways to perform damage control. Including the time in your bedroom, when you were supposed to be blissed-out at the hands of your husband. 

Andrew had been between your thighs for forty-three minutes. You had checked the clock on your nightstand. Forty-three minutes of your husband’s tongue pistoning in and out of your core, swiping along your folds and suckling on your clit, rutting himself against the mattress to provide relief to his strained erection. Usually, you would have been gone by now. Multiple times. And yet, not a lick of an orgasm curled in your abdomen. It didn’t feel bad, but the stimulation wasn’t catching and your arousal simmered instead of its usual burning intensity. You were too in your head, thinking about deadlines and marketing strategies and your son’s doctor’s appointment next week. Life weighed heavy on your mind and left no room for pleasure. You had told Andrew after twenty minutes that it probably wasn’t going to happen, but he had insisted that he knew you could do it. You appreciated his dedication. In all the years you had been together, he never allowed himself to cum unless you had first. But you could tell he was getting tired. He paused every so often to stretch his jaw, using his fingers to stimulate you instead. And his cock looked painfully hard, stretching the fabric of his boxers so much that you could see the veins. He wouldn’t give up without a fight and, honestly, you just wanted him to cum so you could cuddle up next to him and get some sleep. It was already past eleven. So, you did the only thing that made sense at the moment. You decided to fake an orgasm. Not for the first time in your life, but definitely the first time with Andrew. After a particularly harsh suck to your clit, your hand tangled in his hair. You pressed your thighs a bit tighter around his face. Andrew’s eyes flicked open to look up at you, excitement and accomplishment flashing in the hazel circles. He had finally been able to get you to climb up the peak. He knew you could do it. He focused, swirling his tongue in the same way that had ignited you, keeping eye contact. You knew you wouldn’t be able to fake it if he was looking at you like that so you turned your head to the side and screwed your eyes shut. And, to his credit, it felt wonderful. Just not enough to actually banish the stress from your mind. 

“Fuck, Andrew,” You gasped, bucking up into his face like you normally did. “I’m gonna…” You weren’t. But you clenched your thighs tight and forced your lower body to convulse, clenching your walls around his fingers and letting out a shaky breath and a small moan. Andrew let out a whine as you rode his mouth, hips sputtering against the mattress as he came in his boxers. You watched the wet patch grow and it shot a bit more arousal down your spine. It wasn’t a total loss. You forced yourself to breathe heavily and wiped your forehead with a palm. Andrew pulled back from you hesitantly. You met his gaze and found a subtle confusion crinkling his brow. He licked his lips and clenched his jaw, like he was trying to figure something out. You thought you gave a good performance. His lips parted like he was going to ask something, but you pulled him into a kiss before he had the chance to. You kissed him with as much passion as you could muster, but it only made his brows furrow deeper. Okay, maybe you weren’t usually that greedy immediately after a mind-shattering orgasm, but you felt a little guilty about the ordeal and wanted to show him some appreciation. Andrew pulled away after a while and muttered something about getting cleaned up. He disappeared into the bathroom with his pajama pants. You saw him staring into the mirror for a few moments, blinking hard and clenching and unclenching his fists. His lips twitched with silent words. You called out to him softly, which broke his trance. He gave you a small smile and closed the door. You heard the shower turn on. You thought you’d gotten away with it. But you truly underestimated how obsessed with you your husband was, enough to have memorized and catalogued every single noise you made when you squirmed beneath him. Those moans weren’t real, and Andrew knew it.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Andrew sat on a bench in front of the seal habitat. The stroller rested beside him, cover pulled over as his son dozed through the afternoon. Andrew took him to the local aquarium every Thursday. He had a season pass. It was their bonding time out of the house. Andrew was always surprised by the amount of noise your son could sleep through, but he still chose the quietest spot he could find to make sure Little Man actually got his naps in. That spot was beneath an overhang overlooking the harbor seal pool. Andrew watched the sausage-shaped mammals glide back and forth through the water. He liked them. You sometimes joined them on their aquarium adventures and you always said the seals reminded you of Andrew. Apparently they had the same ‘big, wet eyes,’ whatever that meant. He was glad that it was nap time, because he had a lot to think about. He leaned forward on his knees and pressed his thumb into his palm, rubbing in little circles, as he let his eyes glaze over. 

It had been three days since The Incident, but it was still all he could think about. Those manufactured moans. The spasms you pretended were an orgasm, but your walls didn’t flutter around his fingers like they usually did. He was hurt, actually, that you thought he hadn’t noticed. How could he not notice the difference when the feeling of you coming undone around him was his favorite sensation in the world? When he had made it his life’s mission to melt you with his tongue? His wife faked an orgasm. For him. You had told him gently that you weren’t feeling it, but he had been so confident in his abilities that he promised you. And he had failed. The thought made his stomach tumble and he pressed his lips together because he genuinely thought he was going to be sick. What was worse- he actually came. He experienced release and you didn’t. His selfish act made his skin crawl. He should’ve just held back, gone to bed with you after you told him it wasn’t going to happen. But no. His stupid ego got in the way. An ego that was, apparently, unfounded.

It didn’t make sense to him. You had never faked an orgasm before. He knew that was a fact. So what was different? Andrew ran over the events of the past months in his mind. The only big change was that you had started the new account project. He knew you were stressed, he had tried his very best to help you unwind. You were staying later, getting called in on weekends. And to be fair, you never seemed thrilled to take time out of your domestic bliss with Andrew and your son. But recently, there had been a slight shift. When your phone rang, you didn’t grumble as much. You actually looked excited to go into work. You had mentioned that you got a new team member who was really helping you with ideas. Some guy from Harvard business. He began to connect the dots. Andrew’s stomach sank and the color drained from his face. Had you found someone else? Was Mr. Harvard the reason you were a touch happier in the mornings and worked longer days? Because you were about to see him at work and spend time with him? Did you…love him? Andrew’s hand began to hurt with the force he pressed his thumb into his palm. He always knew this day would happen eventually. That you would realize you could do so much better than some broken man whose resume was written in blood. Andrew had allowed himself to think that, maybe, after your son was born, that meant he was yours forever. That you actually wanted him around. Sure, you said it all the time, but he thought you had meant it. How could he be so stupid? The beratements spilled from his mind, echoing the words of Smurf and everyone else who had mocked him throughout his life. 

The only saving grace from his spiraling thoughts was a small babbling sound from the stroller. Andrew’s eyes snapped to it. Your son had woken up. Andrew took a deep breath and pressed his eyes together, willing away any remnants of his mental drowning. He put on a smile as he pulled back the cover. He was met with the groggy, chubby face of the best thing that ever happened to him. Second best, actually, behind you. 

“Hey there, little man.” He whispered, picking him up from the stroller and placing his feet on his thighs. The baby grinned widely and Andrew’s heart clenched. He had your smile. The way his cheeks pulled up and his eyes crinkled slightly at the edges was the same expression you bore when Andrew did something unintentionally hilarious. You used to wear it all the time, but he realized at that moment it had been a few weeks since he got a smile that wasn’t exhausted. Andrew swallowed and pulled his son tight against his chest, like if he let go the universe would take him away, too. After a few moments, the baby started to fuss. It was time to go. Andrew packed up the stroller and wheeled it out of the aquarium. After your son was all secured in his car seat, Andrew got into the car and sat there for a moment. He looked out at the parking lot and saw two ducks walking together. He began to cry. 

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

You hummed as you worked around the kitchen. The heavenly aroma of apple cobbler filled the air. It was your first night off in a while, and you were enjoying the rare family dinner time. Jeremy, the new hire to your team, was an excellent problem solver and exactly what the project needed. He brought a fresh perspective and the client actually listened to him, which was a nice change of pace from his usual outbursts. You had thrown yourself into your work to get all the loose ends tied up as quickly as possible. You were excited to have this additional project off your plate so you could spend more time at home with Andrew and your son.

Andrew had been tense for the past few days. Deran had called him, proposing a job. Something simple, just stealing a few cars from a dealership. And yet Andrew emanated stress like he was about to rob a Las Vegas casino. He never got you too involved with the plans, for your own safety, but something about this job seemed different. Andrew seemed different. He had approached you as he usually did, in the bathroom before bed, him scrubbing his face and you brushing your teeth. He had told you that Deran called him. That’s all he said- all he needed to. And the next morning, when he said he was going “shopping” (his term for conducting surveillance) you had responded as you normally did, leaning in to kiss him and telling him to be safe. But he shifted from you, your lips only catching his cheek. Odd, no doubt, but to be fair the baby monitor had squeaked to life at the same moment and Andrew had hurried to check on your son. You brushed it off as an awkward exchange and nothing more. But…what if it was something more? Planning a job was stressful, and Andrew enjoyed taking out his stress on you. Or, more specifically, he enjoyed getting out his pent-up energy by bending you over the counter and pounding into you while he stuck his tongue in your mouth. And he had pent-up energy. He carried it in his shoulders- a small hunch that told you he was overthinking details and running through possibilities in his mind. But the second part never came, even though you were extremely ready for it. In fact, you hadn’t had sex in weeks. The only action you’d gotten was when you had to fake that orgasm. And it annoyed you. The strings of sexual frustration were beginning to pull tight. You felt it in your stomach, the deep need to be close to your husband. You were tired of waiting. So, you decided to bake something. Andrew loved to see you in your domesticity, cooking for him, folding laundry, bouncing your son on your hip. It did something to him, reminded him that he could be normal. Beneath your clothes, you wore a black lacey bra and panty set. The set that Andrew had bought you for your anniversary. One of his favorites. 

Andrew sat at the table, wiping the spaghetti sauce from your son’s chubby cheeks. You scooped a portion of cobbler into a bowl and placed a spoon in it. You walked around the counter, making a point of swaying your hips. Andrew noticed. You set the bowl down in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder, allowing it to slightly dip onto his chest. You pressed a kiss to his cheek. You could feel the increased warmth of his skin on your lips. 

“Enjoy,” You hummed, nuzzling your cheek against his. “I’m going to put him to bed.” You lowered your voice. “I’ll be waiting for you.” A little heavy handed, sure, but you were tired of waiting for him to make the first move. It wasn’t long before you were laying on your bed, only in the lingerie piece, awaiting Andrew. When he walked in and saw you, his breath hitched slightly. He paused in the doorway, blinking hard and swallowing. His hand fiddled with the seam of his pant leg. Your head rested in your hand, allowing your breasts to spill out of your bra and your spine to curve in a way that showed off your ass. Andrew took a deep breath and held it, walking to the side of the bed and crawling beneath the covers. You watched his eyes slowly drag down your form, gaze lingering on the swell of your chest and the curve of your hips. He tentatively reached out to your face, fingers brushing the skin of your jaw. You closed the distance, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. Andrew let out a little moan, gripping your jaw and pressing his face into yours. Excitement bloomed in your chest. Finally. Your hand snaked around his neck, burying your fingers in his hair and scratching lightly against his scalp. Andrew’s hand drifted from your jaw down to your neck to your collarbone. Your heart fluttered against your sternum. His fingers were so close to brushing your nipple, to giving you any form of pleasurable stimulus. 

Andrew pulled back abruptly, like he had just remembered something. His eyes flickered between yours, searching. He didn’t find his answer, only confusion, and his gaze hardened. He retracted his hand and pulled the covers over his bottom half, covering his erection. 

“The cobbler was good,” he said, voice raspy but quiet. “I’ve…got an early day tomorrow.” He nodded, like he was convincing himself, and turned over and flicked the light off. The rejection punctured your chest cavity. Your legs went numb and embarrassment climbed up your spine and settled in your throat. Oh. Okay. You mumbled out a ‘goodnight,’ but you weren’t sure that Andrew even heard you. You pressed your face into the pillow and stared into the dark room. Fuck. Something was wrong.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

The door clicked open. It was the night of the car job, and you had been sitting on the couch, slipping in and out of sleep while you waited for Andrew to come home. You always did, just in case. In your mind, the day you went to bed and assumed he would come home safely would be the day that the unthinkable happened. You would gladly endure a bit of tiredness the next morning if it meant being able to fall asleep next to your (still alive) husband. The sound of the door immediately roused you from your dozing. You were on your feet the moment Andrew stepped through the door. He was wearing all black and a backwards baseball hat. The sight almost made you giggle. You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. 

“Hey,” was all he said, arms loosely draping over your lower back. Annoyed at his lack of enthusiasm, you pressed your body further into his. 

“How did it go?” You murmured into his ear, pulling back and giving him a kiss on the forehead. Andrew shrugged. Your brow furrowed. He didn’t like to discuss the gory details, but you usually got more than that. He waited until you released him to slip past you and down the hallway. You followed him to the bathroom, not unlike a lost puppy. He looked at his hands under the light. His knuckles were bruised and there were small cuts on the back of his hands. “What happened?” 

“Had to break a window,” He murmured in that monotone voice that you could never decipher. Andrew struggled to bend one of his fingers to grab the gauze from the medicine cabinet above the sink.

“Here,” You offered, reaching out for his hand. But he pulled it away from you. Okay. That was it. You set your jaw and crossed your arms over your chest. “What is wrong with you?” You bit out “You’ve been acting weird for the past, like, month and I’m getting tired of it.” 

“That’s just my personality,” He huffed humorlessly. You met his gaze in the mirror. He wasn’t just looking at you, he was staring at you. Really, truly trying to bore into your mind and get a glance at your thoughts. There was a slight darkness to his gaze, so unlike the way he always looked at you, that it made tears prick at your eyes. 

“I mean it,” your voice wavered slightly. “We haven’t…I feel so far away from you Andrew. Please, talk to me. D-Did I do something wrong? Is it something physical? Do you not…think I’m, like…pretty? Anymore? Or is it something I said?” Andrew sighed and pressed his eyes together, his hands gripping the side of the sink and lowering his head between his shoulders. You gave him a few moments, but he didn’t say anything. “Please,” you begged softly, “Please talk to me.”

“What’s his name?” His voice is so soft, like if he said it any louder he would shatter. 

“Who’s name?” 

“The man you’re leaving me for.” Andrew’s gaze lifted again and you saw the pain in his eyes. Raw and unfiltered. He braced for your response. You just blinked at him. “You found someone else, right? Someone…better? That’s why…” He swallowed, muscle under his eye twitching, looking down at his feet. His voice cracked when he spoke. “That’s why you faked it last time? Because I’m not as good as he is?” Your jaw dropped and your eyes widened. 

“Wh-What?” You were truly dumbfounded. Never in your life would you have thought Andrew would be able to tell, let alone come to that conclusion. “No,” You reached out for him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Thankfully, he allowed you. You curled your other hand around his arm. “Andrew, I would never, ever do that to you. I love you so much. I’ll only ever love you.” You assured him, eyes wide and pleading. “And the faking it? It…it was a one-time thing.” You let out a small chuckle. “Honestly, I’m impressed you could tell. I was just so stressed and you were trying so hard. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“So you’re not leaving me?” Andrew’s eyes lightened a bit, but his mouth was still pressed together, as if he was debating whether or not to believe you.

“Never.” You confirmed, nuzzling your face against his shoulder and pressing a kiss against his shirt. “You’re stuck with me. Until death do us part. And even then, I’m going to haunt you.” You waved your ring finger at the mirror, your wedding ring catching the light. A faint smile twitched at Andrew’s lips. He turned and pulled you into a hug, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been acting odd. I was just worried, I guess. I just…I still can’t believe that you chose me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. You had meant for it to be gentle, reassuring, but Andrew immediately deepened it, running his tongue along your bottom lip. His hands drifted down to your hips and tugged you closer to him, pressing his thigh between your legs. The kiss got sloppy fast and when Andrew pulled back, his lips were puffy and red. His eyes held a glint of amusement and the simmering arousal you had missed so deeply.

“I’m a little hurt, you know,” He muttered, running a thumb over your cheek “That you think that’d work on me. When I know what makes you tick.” You were about to protest that your performance wasn’t that bad, but you were quickly silenced by the feeling of him dragging you against his thigh, the ridge of his hard cock rubbing sweetly against your fast-dampening folds.

Suddenly, you were on the bed, fully naked, with Andrew kissing down your navel. Your skin was on fire, and you squirmed beneath him. You could feel every pulse of your heart throughout your body, but it culminated between your thighs. It was a hammering need and you kept murmuring ‘please’s while Andrew took his sweet time getting down to his prize. When you felt his mouth on yours, a firework of pleasure fizzled in your abdomen. His tongue was warm and wet and prodded at your opening. His nose bumped at your clit and his hands pulled you further against him. Your eyes fluttered open to the sight of him between your thighs, pupils blown, hair slightly sweaty, and bloody knuckles gripping onto the soft flesh of your thighs like if he let go you’d disappear. You moaned, high pitched and needy, at the scene. God he was so fucking hot. And he was all yours. Andrew lapped at your cunt like a man starved, and he was. Usually he liked to taste you every night, and the weeks-long drought had driven him to the edge of madness. A fact that made itself known in the way that he devoured you. Andrew’s lips suckled on your clit as he pushed his two middle fingers inside you to the knuckle. You gasped when you felt the cool metal of his wedding band slip between your walls. He curled his digits into you, immediately finding the spot that made your toes curl and your back arch into the bed. Andrew was relentless, lapping at your pussy and stroking your walls vigorously. It wasn’t long before you felt the tingling tightness of your orgasm building. It started with a catch deep in your core and built from there, spreading until it shook your legs and consumed your brain. Your eyes pressed together and your mouth fell open. It hit you hard. Your legs shot closed around Andrew’s face, practically drowning him in your cunt as you rode his face for every ounce of pleasure you could get from it. A moan tore from your throat as you hurtled over the edge, walls clamping on his fingers and breath coming out in short pants. Andrew rode it out, hips involuntarily humping against the mattress in time with the way you bucked against his face. When you came back down to earth, your vision was a little blurry and your legs were shaking. Quite possibly the most intense orgasm of your life. Andrew pulled away from you and you looked down at him, breathing still uneven. He sucked on his fingers and shook his head.

“Can’t believe you thought I couldn’t tell the difference,” He growled, crawling over you and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was sloppy and consuming, the mixture of your saliva and juices running down both yours and Andrew’s chins. He slipped his arm behind your back and rolled you over on top of him. You pressed yourself up and planted your palms on his chest. When you sunk down on his cock, Andrew watched you take every inch. He rested his head against the pillows only when he had bottomed out. You gave an experimental roll of your hips and Andrew caught his bottom lip between his teeth. He watched, unblinking, as you found your rhythm. He looked up at you with wide eyes, gaze moving from your face to the way your breasts bounced as you rode him. You loved when he looked at you like that. Not appraising, but adoring. So caught up in the impossibility that you were actually allowing him to help you feel good. One of his hands settled loosely on your abdomen, fingers brushing the outside of your hip while his thumb stroked your clit. It was more to keep you steady than actually helping you glide along his length. His other thumb went to your mouth, pressing against your lips. You opened readily and sucked around his finger. He used the newly-wettened pad of his thumb to rub circles around your nipple. You gasped and dug your nails into his chest.

“Yea, you like that?” He breathed, pinching the hardened bud between his fingers. You moaned and nodded, picking up your pace. You slammed yourself down on his cock, letting out little gasps every time the head brushed against your cervix. Andrew just laid there in awe, rubbing against you and helping you build to your next orgasm. “Please cum for me,” He whined “Need to feel it. M’so close. Use me. Use me to get yourself off. That’s it.”

“Fuck, Andrew,” You praised, voice shaky. The edges of your brain were starting to blur again, but you wanted to make sure he heard your words. “Feels s’good. You take such good care of me.” Andrew bit down harder on his lip and began rutting up into you frantically. “I love you so much.”

“Cum with me,” he pleaded. And you did. Your body went limp as another orgasm crashed through you. Your pussy spasmed around his cock and you squeezed your walls around him, milking him for everything he had. Andrew spilled inside you only moments later, face twisted up with ecstasy and small gasps puffing from his lips. You collapsed onto him, nuzzling your face into his neck. Andrew’s arms were around you instantly, pulling you impossibly close into his chest. You felt so full of him. His cum dribbled out of you and cooled on your thighs while the pressure of his hug soothed you. Your hearts beat rapidly against each other and you laid together until they both returned to their normal rhythms. Andrew pressed kisses to your forehead and petted your head. “I love you so much,” He whispered. You smiled against his chest and he felt it. “I mean it. You’re my everything. All I want to do is to take care of you. Always. If you’re not feeling it one night, just tell me. I don’t want you to think you have to perform for me. Okay?” You nodded. “Promise me.” You lifted your head and kissed him slowly, fingers finding the hair at the base of his neck.

Even though the door to the VIP lounge was practically bomb proof, you could still feel the pounding of the base on the other side. You were glad you worked in the lounge. You pitied the girls who had to serve out in the main portion of the club all night, trying to carry drink platters through the masses of dancing, drugged-up bodies without spilling alcohol on everyone. You had a good gig. While the main nightclub was chaos, behind the black door with ‘VIP’ scrawled in golden text was a sanctuary of sorts. It was a small portion of the building, but by far the most enjoyable. Quieter music played, the bar had higher quality wares, leather couches and tables created a place for conversation and relaxed celebration. Only members were allowed to enter. Membership was a quiet thing, not many people knew about it. Friends of friends and things like that. The men, and occasionally women, went through a thorough vetting process before they gained access to the area behind the door. But once they did, they tended to stay. They were treated so well, after all. You were a VIP Girl, one of the most desired positions in the entire club. Your nights consisted of wearing fancy, tasteful lingerie sets and waiting on the city’s elites while they smoked cigars and shot the shit with their friends. They all knew you by name, thanked you with big smiles, and cooed at you when you agreed to sit on their lap for a few minutes. For the right price, of course. While most of your shifts were just you being a glorified waitress, some nights were a bit more interesting. Bobby, your boss, had created a new tier of membership a few years prior. One that was more under the table and even more exclusive. One that only a small percentage of the customers could afford, and even fewer knew about. 

Bobby had approached you with the idea a little hesitantly, and said that he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t like it. You had been at the club the longest and he trusted your judgement. An option for the men to take you home for the night. He’d do everything in his power to keep you safe, extreme background checks and signed contracts resulting in a member’s expulsion from the club (and maybe a few fingers) if any harm came to you. You didn’t immediately deny him. 

“Isn’t that…illegal?” You had asked. Bobby had laughed.

“Our clients are a bit above that, honey.” You hadn’t really understood what he meant. Not until you had agreed and met with your first client. Then it clicked. They had enough money to make people disappear. Bribing their way out of a potential solicitation charge was light work. Most of the clients were normal-ish. They just got tired of fucking their wives or wanted to explore a new kink of theirs in a safe space. You didn’t mind. Not when your paycheck had two additional zeros added to it. But the additional strain was exhausting.

You had a headache. A dull throbbing right behind your eye socket. You placed three drinks on the low table in front of you, allowing the men to get a good view of your pushed-up tits. You released the glasses with loose fingers grazing against the condensation. You wiped the droplets of water against your thigh, a practiced movement. Your eyes caught the time from the watch on one of the men's wrists. 12:27. Almost time for your break. The men thanked you and one slipped a twenty into the garter of your outfit. You giggled and ran your fingers along the back of his hand before whispering a thank you and giving a wink. The smile disappeared the moment you turned your back. Usually, you were able to keep up a constant appearance of contentment during your shift. But tonight was not your night. You had almost snapped earlier when one of the patrons grabbed you from behind and pulled you into his crotch, murmuring about how he ‘knew about the top tier’ and ‘who does he have to talk to in order to join.’ Thankfully the bouncer took care of him before you threw a punch. 

You returned to the bar and handed off some empty glasses before murmuring that you were going on break. The club was well-ventilated, but the moment you stepped into the dressing room, the heavy heat of the summer air punched you in the throat. It was sweltering, even at midnight, and you turned on the little fan in the corner to help disperse the hot air. It only partially worked. You went to your locker and fiddled through your bag, pulling out the instant noodle dinner you had packed. It was the brand your best friend recommended. You filled it in the sink and popped it in the microwave. While it spun aimlessly, you checked your phone.

a/n: the first chapter of many! this is gonna be a lot of slice of life stuff with some plot points. im already falling in love with this idea so if you wanna be in my inbox talking about it who am i to say nooo

Brett Richards

Jack Abbot

Grant Reilly

Andrew "Pope" Cody

Titus Danforth

Charlie Reid

Terry McCandless

Sammy Bryant

You should have known that the moment your mother brought home Titus Danforth that your life would never be the same. 

Like most mid-life crises (even if she was only 35), you thought she would have bought a super car or left you behind to go galivanting in Europe on a cruise. Somehow, that would have been easier than having to wait months after the wedding to find out that she had died suddenly. Because then you would have been able to look her in the eyes and damn her for everything she had done. 

Really, she had never been a good mother. 

Between getting pregnant with you at 20-years-old and cheating on your father before you’d been born, your life hadn’t been the easiest. It seemed like every day she found a new way to blame you for her misfortune. No matter what you did to placate her mood swings and horrible habits, you were always on the receiving end of her wrath. You’d learned at a young age to not be seen or heard especially when she had her always revolving company come by the house. 

It really wasn’t until Titus came over more than twice when you realized that your mother had farther intentions. 

Not even three months later, the two were engaged with the wedding planned in a one-month advance. 

During that time, Titus tried; he really did. He knew he’d never actually be a father to you, that was for certain. But while your mother was busy believing she was wringing his bank accounts dry, he was making sure you had someone pick you up from school, helping you with your business homework, and asking Ursula if she’d be willing to help him make sure that you’d be taken care of when he inevitably sacrificed your mother. 

He'd washed his hands of you. 

You’d be fine without him is what he told himself. 

But when he dug deeper into your family tree, a weird wash of emotion filled his chest at the empty blanks. If he didn’t stay in your life, you’d have no one. No father, no grandparents, no weird aunt and uncle who would be willing to take you in for a couple of years before you legally could be on your own. 

Titus knew what not having a mother could do to one’s psyche. Obviously, it had happened to him, and he was well aware enough to know that he wasn’t normal even without the whole devil worship and blood sacrifices. 

So, when he showed up out of the blue almost three months after he scrubbed your mother’s blood out of his finger nails, you didn’t know whether to feel relief or anger.

You settled on somewhere in the middle of bitter teenage angst and wife whose husband came back from war. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you bit, eyes blazing as you looked at Titus. “If my mother ended up running out on you and you want revenge, you’ll have to get in line.” 

Titus couldn’t help but chuckle at your spitfire. “The opposite really. I’m here to take you home.” 

Your brows pinched. “Home?” 

“Yeah, kid. Home.” 

Because apparently in that large, centuries-old book the short man had read to you after you arrived at the biggest building—is this even a house you had asked on arrival—there were no rules or hidden clauses about adopting a child after the marriage had already gone through. And in one palm slash and your name written in your own blood, you’d become a Danforth heir. 

However, that didn’t mean Titus was going to send you right into their ways. Ursula also agreed with him, even after a few arguments. If you were going to be their ward, they didn’t want to scare you off which might end in your untimely demise as well. 

They started slowly. 

You began with riding lessons, history lectures, and a few hours each day practicing fencing. Each skill they put you in, you somehow exceeded more than they thought you would. In just a few months, you were following Titus into business meetings and accompanying your aunt across the globe to deal with their assets.

Your first kill came about half a year into living with your stepfather. The game had been simple enough: a small round of tag. 

Titus was nervous when you picked up the Chinese Hook Sword with gleaming eyes. However, all jitters fled his body after you swung the weapon and effectively “tagged” the victim, the deep hook sinking into his shoulder. He almost couldn’t believe you had done so well, and pride bloomed deep in his stomach. 

And as you smiled at him, blood dripping from your coat sleeves, Titus couldn’t help but think that, yes, you were his kid. 

y/n.danforth has posted

liked by grace.jessup, tom_vance, trishA, and 3,029 others

y/n.danforth cannot wait for the weekend 🫩

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trinity.caido girl fencing almost ended me 💔

y/n.danforth tell me about it 😪 it will be too soon the next time I hear piste

trinity.caido preach preach preach

tom_vance cannot believe I got beat by a child

y/n.danforth should I send you a picture of the trophy again so you can believe it?

tom_vance you're such a brat

y/n.danforth I get it from my dad 😛

charliewilkinson please tell me you'll be at the compound for lunch tomorrow? I don't think I'll survive another meal without you

y/n.danforth Charlie I wish but my auntie and dad are taking me to Greece for the weekend

charliewilkinson boooooo bring me with you

y/n.danforth I would in a heartbeat

grace.jessup is that a new iPad......

y/n.danforth maybe 🫣

grace.jessup this is the fourth one this month

y/n.danforth you should see how many my dad goes through in a week

y/n.danforth has posted

liked by trinity.caido, charliewilkinson, wan.jin, and 2,348 others

y/n.danforth a smile would be nice 🙃

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grace.jessup girl I'm sorry to say but your dad is HAWT

y/n.danforth EW NO?

grace.jessup relax he's not even on instagram

y/n.danforth he finds out sooner or later.....

charliewilkinson can't believe you'd choose a cat over me 💔

y/n.danforth the cat is better company I'm afraid

charliewilkinson right to the heart man

trinity.caido how'd the "conference" go

y/n.danforth it went super well! dad said you could join next time too. he knows how much we enjoy going after those representatives

trinity.caido oh sick

tom_vance is your aunt single?

y/n.danforth I'm going to pray you delete this soon

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

You didn't know exactly what you were expecting to come out of Clayton Emerson's mouth as the two of you were laid up in a tangle of limbs and bare flesh in your bed but it definitely wasn't "Will you house sit for me while I'm in Hilo?" 

Never once in the two years since you started whatever this thing was between you, had he ever personally invited you into his home. 

It was always hotel rooms outside of town or in the back of his Jeep in some remote location out in the forest where no one would walk by and see the Mayor of Honolulu fucking someone over twenty years younger than he was and definitely shouldn't be with in that regard. 

You had even started having him at your place when your roommate went on her monthly "work trips" with her boss. It made you feel guilty to keep her in the dark given that she and her boss were having a full blown affair and probably wouldn't judge you in the slightest. 

But you just couldn't bring yourself to tell her that you let the man who runs this town come inside you several times a week. And that maybe you were starting to develop feelings you shouldn't be.

You found out quickly that you loved him there, in your bedroom, best. Under the dull glow of your fairy lights, amongst the things that showcased who you were to your core. 

He'd taken his time his first visit studying all the photos scattered in various surfaces of your room. The life you lived outside of your little bubble, family photos from a childhood that felt so far away now. Posters from bands you no longer listened to but still kept up for nostalgia mingled with ones of artists that now frequented your music apps and of movies you loved. 

You watched him make his way through the museum of your life, his face softening on a picture of you as a child with your siblings, your front teeth missing but that hadn't stopped you from smiling so hard your face might split. 

Clayton had always been attractive to you. It drove you mad most days. You knew from the moment you saw him that you had to have him in some way. Any way he was willing to give himself. But he'd never been more mesmerizing than here in this room. 

It wasn't lost on you how out of place he was amongst your things. Realistically he shouldn't be there at all, the definition of taboo and crossing lines, but you couldn't help the warm feeling that came over you. Especially when he looked at you with so much adoration and heat.

You'd rode him to madness that night, letting whatever animal dwelled inside you free. You couldn't get enough, each wave of pleasure he'd pounded into your body making you crave more. 

And he always matched your energy, always knew what your body needed before you even knew yourself. The two of you just fit so perfectly and you figured it was why you could never really put an end to things. 

You both had tried on a few occasions, knowing deep down things could never really work long term but it only took a couple weeks of being away from each other for one of you to cave and end up back here. 

But never had he extended things to his personal home. Not even his office in town. It was a line he had drawn firmly when you two started seeing each other. At the time you had no problem with it, perfectly content to be his dirty little secret and meeting up at whatever address he'd text you to be at. 

This was doomed from the start. But you never once hesitated when he called and definitely never let yourself believe that just because he had grown softer in the last two years that it changed anything.

You'd been in his home exactly one time, a few months into your rendezvous, for an appreciation dinner he hosted for the North Shore rescue unit. It had been an eventful but over all successful summer. The death count that year had been the lowest it had been in the last fifteen years and the Mayor thought it was worth the recognition. 

You thought about not going, remembering the hard boundary he had made a few months prior. Technically you were invited, the whole unit had been and it might raise more questions if you bailed on an event hosted by the most important man in town. Deciding to just go in the end, you tried your best to keep scarce and out of his way, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. 

He had been cold with you that night, his usually softened demeanor around you was replaced with a stoic and guarded one, eyes like ice and face like stone. Only directed at you and you couldn't help the pinch in your chest being on the receiving end of it. 

When he wasn't shooting daggers at you, he was pretending that you didn't exist. Like the two of you didn't know each other's bodies inside and out by then. You reminded yourself that you knew what this was from the beginning, that he wasn't the gentle, romantic relationship type. That the two of you were merely using each other as a way to find release. 

It was all you'd ever be to each other and you had half a thought that this was him reminding you of that fact. 

You had cut out early, having made your appearance and just wanted to get out of those clothes and hunker down in the comfort of your home. Your shower was extra long that night, taking your time to scrub away the day so you could start anew, refreshed and clean. 

What you weren't expecting was the five texts and three missed phone calls from Clayton Emerson when you got out. 

C.E.: Did you leave already? 

C.E.: You didn't even say goodbye. 

C.E.: Are you ignoring me now? 

C.E.: If you're upset I would much rather you tell me instead of whatever this silent treatment is. 

C.E.: Listen, I'm sorry. Please come over and let me make it up to you. I'm at our usual spot. Please don't keep me waiting. 

You did in fact, keep him waiting. Not having the mental strength to face him. Exhaustion was gnawing at your bones and you decided that you'd face him when you were better rested and prepared for whatever he would throw your way. 

Plus, you couldn't really have that much of an affect on him, could you? He was the fucking mayor, a good looking one at that. He probably had a line of willing potential partners he could fill his time with. Your stomach turned to acid at the thought and you banished it as quickly as it came. 

You learned the next day how wrong you were when he had shown up at your work under the guise of checking in and making sure any comments or concerns could be addressed. 

He couldn't keep his eyes off you, ones that you noticed were a little wild and out of control. His usually perfectly kept hair was disheveled, like he'd tossed and turned all night and hadn't bothered to tame it before he left the house. Even his navy blue Hawaiian shirt was wrinkled and the buttons weren't perfectly lined up. 

Something was wrong and you cursed whatever it was for pulling at your heart strings. 

You were loading up your car to head out for the day when suddenly he was there, standing so close you could make out every color that was encased in his eyes. Butterflies started doing laps in your stomach and just being this close to him always made heat pool deep within you. 

"You never showed up. Never answered my texts or calls." His voice was shaking, like he was trying with all his power not to completely lose it. 

"I was tired and didn't feel like talking. Sorry." You shrugged, stowing away a pair of life jackets in the back seat. 

"Then be tired and quiet where I can at least see you." You paused at the words, not used to the man being vulnerable. His eyes took on that puppy dog look and you felt your walls slowly chipping away. 

"You getting soft on me, Emerson?" Your heart clenched at the idea of him caring more about you than he'd always led on. 

"I just…..don't like the idea of you being upset. Especially not with me. I know I'm an asshole, my son tells me any chance he can. His mother too. And I know I was coming on strong last night but…." He stopped, his features twisting in a battle of emotions. 

This was hard for him, being so exposed emotionally. You wondered how many people got to see this side of him. 

"But what?" You prodded, looking at him with encouragement. 

"But I have a hard time controlling myself when you're around. You looked so beautiful and all I wanted to do was throw you over my shoulder, take you to my room and fuck you until the sun came up. Not sit around and talk about the same old issues I hear about twenty times a day. Or about the weather or sports or any of that mundane nonsense. And having you there, looking like absolute sin and not being able to do anything about it made me wanna rip my hair out." 

You were embarrassed by how quickly you'd caved. Telling him to come over later that night so you could really talk it out. Except there was nothing to talk about, you'd already decided to forgive him. 

The sex that night had been unreal. Something had shifted with his confession. His body moved differently, the aching sweetness of his aftercare and the way he held onto you like you might disappear as you slept. And that had been the norm for you from then on. 

"You want me to house sit?" You repeated, shifting your head so you could look him in the eyes. 

"Yes." He stated simply, like this wasn't a huge deal. 

"You want me in your house?" You had a hard time convincing yourself you'd indeed heard him correctly.

"You've been in my house before." He frowned, running his fingertips up and down your spine. 

"Once. And you weren't exactly warm and welcoming then." His frown deepened, his hand pausing for a moment before continuing. 

"A fact that I feel I've more than made up for." He had, he really fucking had. 

"Don't you have people already who can watch your house while you're gone?" 

"I do, but I've been meaning to give them some time off. And I already asked Kainalu and that was a flat out no. You're the only other person I trust." 

"My plan to steal all your belongings and sell them on Facebook Marketplace and Criagslist is all coming together." You rubbed your palms together and let out mock maniacal laughter. He chuckled in return, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. 

"Take it all, my ex wife picked out most of that stuff anyway." You kept your body from reacting. The subject of his ex had been a sore one, something he didn't really like getting into but had let slip from time to time. 

You respected that, honestly not in any mood to hear about the woman he'd once promised forever to, had a child with. It made your chest ache in ways you had never experienced before for reasons you'd likely never admit to him. 

"You really trust me with this?" You peered up at him and he peered back at you for a moment before a soft smile stretched on his face.

"I do." 

And that's where you now found yourself, alone in that big house of his. He'd shown you around briefly, giving you a set of rules and expectations and numbers to the front gate where his security would be. He'd had the fridge and pantry fully stocked for you to use, every streaming service under the sun at your disposal. All he asked was that you water the plants and keep things tidy. 

The seriousness of his face and the professional air of his tone was deeply amusing to you. You found yourself swallowing back laughter and grinning as soon as his back was turned. 

You couldn't shake the look of tenderness on his face or the intensity of the way he'd kissed you goodbye before he'd left. Or the way he said he'd selfishly wanted you here so he knew where you'd be and he didn't have to worry so much while he was miles away and couldn't reach you as easily. You thought it was silly since you risked your life daily for a living but you let him have it. 

It wasn't the first time he'd shown that side of himself to you but it always caught you off guard. Made you believe that maybe he did have feelings for you, wanted something more than just sex. You never let yourself fall too deeply into that train of thought. You knew better than to actually think that would be true. 

When you weren't out on the beach pulling people out of near death experiences, patching up wounds and filling out paperwork, you were basking in the comfortable silence of Clayton's home. 

You had to travel about two miles through his farm land to reach the house, nestled away near the tree line of the forest. The closest neighbor was about four miles away and with the temporary dismissal of his staff, aside from a few security guards, you were completely alone. 

You utilized the massive kitchen, one you'd dreamed of having one day when you saved up enough money to set down roots somewhere. You loved to cook and bake just as much as you loved being out in those waters and helping people. It was in your blood, a perfect mix of both of your parents. 

Your father was a chef, owned his own restaurant on the other side of the island and taught you his craft from the time you could hold a spatula firmly in your little hand. Your mother had been a Life Guard, spent time up here in her youth doing the same line of work before heading down south to settle down and raise a family. She had been your inspiration to follow the same path. 

You'd been meaning to try out a few recipes you'd seen online but didn't have the patience or time to do in your little apartment kitchen. But with all this space, you figured why not? You quickly wondered why you'd deprived yourself of this joy. It made you miss your father and you made a mental note to give him a call the following day. 

When you were done, you'd nuzzle up on the couch and watched movies you'd been meaning to watch but again, never found the time to settle in. 

I could get used to this. The thought was there before you could stop it, your chest tightening and your face heating. You shook your head in hopes it would magically make the thought disappear. Stupid, there's nothing to get used to. He'll be rushing you out of here the second he gets back. 

You were careful not to get too comfortable after that. 

You had opted for the guest bedroom, even though he said you could take his bed. You didn't want to be amongst his things, his scent surely lingering on those sheets. It would make you miss him more than you already did, a feeling you should not be having. Best to keep some level of separation. 

Clayton would check in twice a day. Once in the morning before you headed out to work, you wondered how he knew to time it so perfectly, and once after dinner. 

The conversations never lasted long and he didn't bother with small talk. Just wanted to know if there was any concerns or things he should know about before wishing you a good day or night and hanging up. You tried not to let it affect you, you were used to his frigidness by now. 

About two weeks into your house sitting gig, you'd had a particularly bad day. It started with a stubbed toe on your way out the door, after you were late getting up and it had spiraled out of control from there. 

The waves were violent that day. People were stupid enough to think they could handle them when in reality, they couldn't. You and your team had pulled out a dozen people that day, one of them hadn't made it. 

You took a bath that night. Bubbles, Epsom salt, the works. The water so hot even the Devil would be concerned. You stayed in there so long your body was practically a raisin, scrubbed red and raw. 

When you got out, you decided to do something you hadn't dared to once during your time here. But the events of the day had worn down your mental walls and you just wanted to be close to him. 

You slowly opened his bedroom door, peaking your head around to peer into the dark space, like you were expecting him to be there and catch you in the act. It was empty, obviously, the bed made up and untouched. The glow of the moon bathed the room in silver, coming in through the row of windows above his bed. 

You didn't let your eyes linger on it for too long, you had a mission. 

Opening the door all the way and flicking on the light, you slowly entered. Your eyes landed on a set of double doors and you made your way over to them, opening them to see your intuition had been correct. 

There hung a neat row of Hawaiian shirts, all the same color pallette of blue but each with their own unique patterns. Your heart melted at the sight of them, you hadn't realized how much you had missed them. You picked a random one from the middle, unbuttoning it and slipping it on. 

You didn't bother buttoning it up again nor did you put anything else on. You brought the fabric up to your nose, inhaling deeply and you swore you could weep as his scent hit you. 

You quietly exited, not wanting to linger any longer in the room and padded down the hall to the living room. The air against your practically bare flesh felt good after your bath, your nipples starting to harden beneath the fabric of Clayton's shirt. 

Without even thinking, you found yourself in front of his shelves full of records. Your fingers ran along the spines, eyes moving slowly along with them until you found something that piqued your interest. 

It was on the third shelf that you found exactly what would do the trick. You carefully pulled it out of its spot, not wanting anything to damage it. Slipping it out of its casing, you placed it into the record player, adjusted the needle to where you wanted it and turned it on. 

The intro beats to Hall & Oat's Out of Touch began to sound through the speakers and it was like the music possessed you. It started in your hips, swinging and circling back and fourth to the sound. Then your body began to roll, arms stretched up into the air. You spun around the room, letting the music move through you. 

You threw your head back and began to belt out the words, moving into the kitchen to make yourself a before bed treat. You began taking out the necessary ingredients and setting off to work. 

You were so in your element, on a whole other planet, that you didn't hear the sound of tires coming up the drive, the slam of a driver's side door nor the opening and closing of the front entrance. Not even the stomping of boots coming down the corridor. 

What broke your spell had been the feeling on the back of your neck that you were being watched. Not necessarily in a concerning way but you knew that you weren't alone. 

You looked around, your eyes catching on a figure lounging with a shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed and a smirk on it's face. It took you a moment to register what, or rather who, you were looking at. 

You stopped abruptly, your breath hitching and heart began to thump against your ribcage. 

You had forgotten in the last several days exactly what he had looked like. It was like the image in your mind didn't perfectly describe the different shades of gray that made up that head of thick curls, how deep the lines on his face were or the exact pattern of freckles that splattered across his skin. 

Devastatingly handsome and here. There was no stopping the storm of butterflies raging through your stomach or the fact that being so exposed and perceived had made you wet in an instant. 

"You're home. I thought you'd be gone for another week at least." You barely made out, not able to take your eyes off of the man. 

"Luckily we got what we needed and were able to wrap things up early." He replied, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer, eyes like a predator that had locked in on it's prey. 

"That's g-good!" You stammered, busying yourself with cleaning up the mess you'd made of the kitchen, trying to settle your heart as he stepped closer and closer. "I'll just tidy up and be out of your hair. I'm sure you're exhausted and want some quiet." 

You yelped when you felt a set of rough palms against the flesh of your hips. Suddenly pressed firmly against his front, his breath so close you could smell the saltiness of the ocean, mint and a hint of bourbon. It made your head swim and you found yourself once again locked by his gaze. 

"Surely you're not trying to leave. Not after that show you just put on." His octave had lowered into something sensual and raspy and his eyes had gone completely black. His right hand had moved from your hip, fingers running over the material of his shirt that didn't do a very good job at covering your body. "This looks good on you." 

"It's very comfortable. I get why you own a million of them." Clayton chucked, both hands now moving their way up your torso, past your stomach and ribcage, parting the fabric more so your nipples were exposed to him. Involuntarily your chest pressed forward, a silent plea for him to wrap those pretty lips around the sensitive flesh. 

His smile widened at the action, his eyes flicking up to yours for a brief moment before dipping back down to your breasts. But his lips didn't go where you so badly wanted them to, instead you jolted in shock when his mouth was suddenly against yours. His tongue caressed your bottom lip and you didn't hesitate to part them to let him in. 

He groaned like a man starved, hands coming around to smooth down the column of your back until they gripped firmly on your ass. Your answering moan set him to action and suddenly you were airborne, legs wrapped around his waist as he moved in a direction you couldn't be bothered to figure out. 

You heard the opening of a door and then your back against something soft and padded. He broke the kiss then to admire you laid out on what you now realized was his bed. He studied you for a moment, eyes roaming over every inch. 

"You drive me insane, you know that?" He said after a beat of silence. 

"Is that so?" You blushed, not bothering to fight the grin on your face. 

"You know you do. I can't get you out of my head. Took everything in me not to race back here every time I heard your voice on the damn phone." He had his palms on your feet now, massaging all the way up to your calves. 

"That explains the formality of those calls then." You rested the bottoms of your feet against his chest as he worked the knots out of your muscles. 

"If I'd let myself stay on the phone longer than that, I never would've gotten anything done." He'd continued his journey north, reaching the spot where your knees bent and slowly spreading your legs. That wild look in his eyes he'd get when he had you like this was present, though there was a hint of something else there that you couldn't pin point. 

"Do I really affect you that much?" It took everything in you to keep your voice level while he dropped to his knees before you, hands gripping under your hips and sliding your ass to the edge of the bed. Your core clenched at the anticipation and the way he starting planting lazy kisses on the insides of your thighs. 

He didn't answer, too lost in his mission now. He slowly drew closer to that spot between your thighs that now ached with need. You tried to suppress your huffs of impatience, your hips tilting up in hopes it would speed things along. 

It did the opposite, he took even longer. Switching to your other thigh and repeating the action seemingly even slower this time. His eyes were on you, a small tug at the corner of his mouth told you he was thoroughly enjoying torturing you. 

"Did you miss me?" He drawled between kisses, sucking on your skin in a way that you knew would leave behind a trail of marks. 

"Not at all." Your voice was thick, weak with lust. 

"Fucking. Liar." He growled, biting down lightly on your flesh but hard enough to make you squeak with surprise. "Let's try that again. Did. You. Miss. Me?" 

His movements paused just over your slick center, you could feel the hotness of his breath there as he exhaled. He rose a brow in challenge, daring you to lie again. In no mood to be a brat tonight, you nodded your head. 

"Uh, uh. I need to hear you say it, sweetheart." 

"I missed you." The words had barely left your lips when he descended on you. Tongue sweeping out to lick from your asshole, up your folds to your clit and back down. He repeated the action a few times, warming you up. 

You threw your head back when he took your clit into his mouth and started sucking, a palm spread out over the expanse of your stomach holding you in place. His other hand gripped onto your thigh and keeping you from trying to close your legs. 

You let out a guttural whine, his thumb replacing his tongue so it could plunge itself inside you and lap at your entrance like it was water and he'd walked through a desert to find it. You laced your fingers through his silver curls, massaging your finger tips against his scalp. You felt his groan of approval vibrate through you. 

Soon his thick fingers took place of his tongue, pushing into you and hooking one at a time. He stroked slowly at that spot inside of you, his lips once again sucking at your clit, before gradually increasing in pace. 

It took no time at all to draw out your first orgasm and you didn't brother keeping quiet. You'd still been coming down from your high and hadn't processed that he'd moved away and started his ascent upwards. You whimpered as his mouth found the hard peaks of your breasts, finally giving them the attention they'd been craving. 

Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, digging into the fabric there and it dawned on you then that he was still fully dressed, shoes and all. This simply won't do. 

"Clayton." You practically whispered, your voice already starting to grow horse. All he'd responded with was a hmm? against your nipple. 

"I'm feeling a bit over dressed right now." He lifted his head to look at you, confusion on his face until it dawn on him too. He pulled away from you, getting up off the bed with a grumble. Old man, you chuckled in your head. 

He started pealing out of his layers in that same leisurely manner he'd been using all night. You propped up on your elbows, your legs still spread and ready to welcome back, and enjoyed the view. 

You bit your lip once the solid plains of his chest came into view and the path of thick muscle leading in an arrow down to the band of his dress pants. He dropped down in a squat, started untying his laces and tugging of his shoes, never once breaking eye contact. 

Your cheeks began to heat at the way he watched you, drifting back and fourth between your face and cunt, still so fucking wet and ready for him. You clenched around air, that ache pounding like a heartbeat at your core. 

His grin grew, he'd seen it happened and was totally storing it wherever his ego was kept. He started to make work of his pants, still not in any hurry. He loved watching you squirm. Growing annoyed and desperate and ready to beg for him. 

He stepped out of his pants, leaving him in nothing but a pair of tight navy boxer briefs. You could see the hard line of his length, already swollen and leaking. He hooked his thumbs in the elastic but didn't move to tug them off. 

Your awaiting gaze lifted and you found him staring at you, eyes impossibly darker. You began fidgeting under his heated stare, breathing heavily. You knew what he wanted and you were so god damn prepared to give it to him. 

"Please give me your cock, Sir." You pouted, legs parting wider for him. 

"Good girl." He drew his boxers down, exposing the patch of trimmed salt and pepper hair there, your mouth beginning to water. You let out a soft gasp as his cock sprang free, your walls squeezing together like your pussy was greeting him like an old friend. 

He threw the fabric somewhere out of your line of vision, and prowled back to where you laid on the bed. Then he was over you, his head coming down to claim your lips again, your tongues twisting in tandem. He pressed his body against yours and the friction against your nipples made your eyes roll. 

You felt the hot weight of his length laying on your stomach, slowly sliding down as he began to shift his hips. You lifted yours slightly, positioning your core so it was in the direct path of his tip. He slid up the length of you, nudging against your clit. You whimpered as he repeated the action until you had to reiterate your earlier request. 

"Please give me your cock, Sir." You panted into his mouth, palms gliding down the expanse of his back. 

"I haven't forgotten, sweetheart." And there he was, pressing his tip against your entrance but not moving forward. He lifted his head away from your kiss, watching your face intently. You watched him back, reveling in the way the moonlight brightened the color of his hazel eyes. He was breathtaking and devastating all at once and- 

Your train of though was cut short by the cry of pleasure that ripped out of your chest as he fully sheathed himself inside of you. His slow tempo gone with the wind, he pulled back and rolled his hips forward and he was off. 

The only sound in the room was the wetness of his cock plunging in and out of you, the smack of bare skin on bare skin and heavy breathing. 

You weren't entirely sure where to put your hands, gripping onto anything you could as that familiar wave of pleasure crashed over you. You'd missed this, swore you could spend a life time getting lost in it. 

He threw your legs over his shoulders, pulling back so he could watch your face screwed up in euphoria as he fucked you deeper. "That good, baby? You like that?" 

"Fuck yes." You weren't even sure if you were speaking clearly but you knew he was hitting that spot inside of you dead on and it wouldn't be long before you were clenching around his girth. 

"Oh yes, baby. There it is." He didn't stop pounding into you as you came undone. He dipped his head to plant chaste kisses on your cheeks, nose and lastly your lips. "Such a good girl, aren't you?" 

You nodded your head in a drunken daze, his voice sounded distant but you knew he was right there with you, ready to catch you if you fell into madness. He slowed his pace, kissing his way down your throat to your collarbones and back again. 

"I want to ride you. Please let me ride you." You begged, kissing his shoulder. You squeaked as he flipped the two of you over, his cock staying buried inside you. You adjusted yourself on top of him and his hands were firmly back on your ass, slowly massaging his finger tips into the skin there. 

Once you felt you'd gotten yourself into a comfortable position, you steadied your hands on his chest and slowly rolled your hips forward, then off to the left, down, right and back forward again. 

Clayton's hands slid up to rest on your hips, helping to guide yourself against his cock. "C'mon, baby. I know you can do better than that." 

You looked down at him with a shit eating grin. "I don't know. You should probably take it easy, Old Man. I think I noticed a new wrinkle on your face and your hair is looking more white than gray these days." 

He bucked his hips up in a solid swift motion, his thighs smacking hard against your ass. The sound reverberated through the room followed by your surprised gasp. You grumbled, pressing down on his chest and shooting him a glare. 

"I think you're forgetting this isn't exactly our first rodeo." He shot back, his hips thrusting again, gentler this time. 

"Hmmm, I don't think I can recall. But if you're sure you can handle me," You shrugged, positioning yourself forward and lifted yourself off of him until all that was left inside you was the tip of his cock. "So be it." 

You slammed down on his length hard and fast, lifting your self back up and doing it again. You'd messed around with different speeds until you found one you could keep up with. 

Clayton's hold on you was so strong you wouldn't be surprised if his hand prints were visible there in the morning. You came at the sound of him whimpering uncontrollably, unable to form words. You threw your head back, grind yourself down on him as you came back down. 

"Turn around. Get on your hands and knees." It was an order and you could feel your heart beat in your ears. He was about the thoroughly ruin you. 

You wasted no time getting into position, your spine curving inward so your ass was perked up perfectly for him. You could feel him shifting behind you, positioning himself back at your entrance. 

He spread his hand out at the small of your back, the other coming around to draw slow circles against your clit. You hummed contently, nudging your ass back a fraction. There was a sharp slap against your ass cheek that made your pussy clench at the sting. 

"So fucking impatient." He said it so tenderly, like it was a praise instead of the scold you knew it was.

You kept yourself still despite wanting nothing more than to press back and onto his cock. He didn't make you wait long before he bent over you, planting soft kisses down your spine and slowly pressed himself between your folds. 

You both let out a sigh in unison as he sank back into your wet heat. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, cursing and mumbling as he fucked you into near delirium. 

He used his knee to spread your legs father apart and forced your head down into the mattress. The position and the speed in which he was pounding into you made his balls swing and slap perfectly against your clit. 

Another orgasm ripped out of you but you barely had enough time to stew in it before he had you on your back again. 

You could tell he was close, his thrusts growing sloppy and less calculated. He was also getting louder, your name like a prayer or an answer so some unknown question on his lips. 

Watching him come undone like this was your favorite sight in the whole world. You could get drunk off if it, spend the rest of your days just like this. You didn't want anything, anyone more than you wanted him. 

It scared you, overwhelmed you so deeply that you could feel tears pool at your eyes and slide down your cheeks. He leaned forward, licking your tears away before resting his forehead against yours. 

The eye contact. The thoughts racing through your head. The death you'd encountered earlier that day making you realize just how short life was. The fact that he was finally taking you in the one place he swore he never would. The wave of another orgasm. The feeling of him spilling inside of you. It all became too much. 

You couldn't stop the words that shot out of you if you tried. 

"I love you." 

It was like someone hit pause on the world, this moment. Everything stilled and quieted and you swore the violent beat of your heart could be heard through the entire island. 

You dared a look at his face and froze. A mask void of emotion, glacial and removed and looking somewhere past you. 

"C-Clayton?" Your voice shook, the rest of your body following suit and it had nothing to do with your climax. 

His eyes slowly focused on you again, but there was no change in his face. He slowly pealed himself off of you, the loss of him leaving you raw and empty. 

He put distance between himself and the bed where you laid still as a rock. "You need to leave." 

"Clayton." You whispered, sitting up and trying to cover yourself with his shirt that was now hanging off your shoulders. 

"Now." You realized then you'd never actually seen him be cold and distant. All those other times you could still feel some sort of ardency underneath the surface. 

But this, it was like he'd completely switched himself off. 

"Please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I just got caught up in the moment." You tried to plead but it fell on deaf ears. 

"I'll get one of the security guards to drive you home. You have ten minutes." He turned and left the room without another word. 

Violent sobs wracked through you, vision going blurry from tears. You adjusted his shirt so you were as covered as possible, his scent stinging your nose and making you nauseous as you made a beeline for the guest room. 

It was like you blacked out. Suddenly fully dressed, your duffel bag packed and swinging over your shoulder. You barreled out of the bedroom and didn't stop until you felt the cool air of the outdoors fan over you. 

You gasped for breath, struggling to get air into your lungs. You heard the opening of the front door and a distant voice which sent you bolting away to escape from this hell you'd put yourself in. 

You heard a car door, moving gravel and the sound of an engine coming up behind you. Lights stretched out around you and you wanted to scream until your head exploded. 

"Where the fuck are you going?" Clayton demanded from somewhere next to you. 

"You t-told me to leave so I'm l-leaving." You muttered between sobs. 

"I told you I'd have security take you back." 

"I don't want your fucking security. I don't want anything from you." It was a lie and you both knew it and you wanted so badly to hit something. Anything that would release the fire building inside you.

"You're not walking home. It'll take you hours to get to your place." You stopped abruptly, swinging to face him. He made quick time in hitting the breaks and halting the car. 

You stepped up to his window, leaning forward and got in his face. 

"I never want to see you again, do you understand me? Don't fucking follow me or I swear to God I will ruin you." You'd never spoken to anyone with so much venom and distaste in your life. 

He had the audacity to look wounded and regretful, his mouth opening to say something but closed again at the silent warning on your face. 

You turned away, continuing your walk of shame. You heard the car rolling backwards and turn around back up the drive to the house.

Your heart ripped apart in your chest as he once again disappointed you. 

He truly didn't love you, wasn't ever going to fight for you and that reality drove a knife into your heart and stayed with you long after you crawled into bed and everything went dark.