gerasker

The journey to Sub-Level 3 had been its own kind of combat operation. She'd navigated around Soap's prying eyes in the mess hall, slipped past Gaz's casual inspection in the hangar. But her real challenge had been Captain Price. He'd cornered her near the armory, his body blocking the doorway, that knowing smirk twisting beneath the brim of his boonie hat while he peppered her with questions about her upcoming leave, questions that felt anything but casual.

Heat had flooded her face, her tongue tripping over a flimsy excuse as she ducked past him. The memory of that close call still thrummed beneath her skin, electric and raw.

Her duffel hit Simon's metal locker with a metallic clang, her fingers trembling slightly as they released the strap. The bunker was sterile, military-order clean. Simon stood motionless by the cot, still in his tactical trousers and combat boots, but the plate carrier was gone. In its place, a black compression shirt clung to the massive expanse of his shoulders and chest, mapping every ridge of muscle.

He didn't move, didn't speak, just watched her from behind the skull-patterned balaclava, those dark eyes pinning her in place from the narrow slits.

"It was nothing," she murmured, shrugging out of her uniform jacket and letting it fall across his desk chair. "Price likes you. I like him. He was just being the Captain, making sure his favorite Lieutenant's new shadow wasn't going to get him killed on the next op."

Simon's hand stilled at the hem of his shirt before he let his arms fall to his sides. She had this way, this unsettling ability to strip away the layers between them when the door was shut. No tiptoeing, no careful wording — never needed. Just the truth, laid bare.

"Nah. He knows you're solid," Simon rumbled, his voice a low vibration in the concrete room, thick with Manchester gravel.

"Simon, I'm a sergeant he assigned to your six months ago, and now I'm sneaking into your bunk at twenty-two hundred," she countered, a shy smile playing at her lips as her gaze dropped to her boots. "For all he knows, I'm exactly the kind of distraction that gets a man like you killed."

She was sharp. Perceptive. Simon hadn't realized how tightly his jaw was clenched until she called it out. Of course Price—the man who carried the weight of their lives on his shoulders—would make it his business to keep them both in line.

"Does that piss you off?" Simon asked, closing the distance between them until his shadow swallowed hers completely.

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then dropped onto the cot with a soft thud. "That the Captain is doing his job? I figure if he really had a problem, I'd be bunking with the recruits by now."

"If he started sniffing around my business like that, I don't think I'd be so bloody forgiving," he muttered.

"Good thing it's my business then, not yours, Lt.," she said, her voice dropping to something softer, more intimate as she looked up at him through her lashes. "But let's be honest, you've got a reputation to uphold. You're the Ghost. Ghosts don't have company. You've got more at stake than some random grunt on this base."

"You're going to tell me that story someday," he said, turning toward the monitor on his desk, the hard drive blinking softly in the dim light.

"Maybe. Maybe not," she breathed, the air between them thickening as he closed the distance. "But right now, I'm off duty. Just here for whatever passes for entertainment in this concrete tomb and whatever shitty rations you've managed to hoard."

"Making out part of the entertainment package?" his voice dropped, gravelly and low, that rare humor cutting through the darkness.

Heat bloomed across her cheeks, a daring smile curling her lips despite the flutter in her chest. "Play your cards right, and if you've actually lifted those chocolate bars from the officers' mess, I might let you touch me."

Simon felt something stir behind the mask. Dark amusement mixed with something else. Good thing he'd raided the commissary that afternoon, clearing out the top shelf just for her.

"Got you covered," he rumbled, reaching into his locker and tossing the bars onto her lap. "Get comfortable, love. Let me get this sorted."

One eyebrow lifted, color still high on her cheeks, but she nodded and settled back against his pillows as the room plunged into darkness.

They picked a violent action flick—the kind with bullets and blood they could both dissect for its stupidity—and she fell quiet, the only sound the crinkle of chocolate wrapper and the occasional rustle of clothing as she shifted against him.

She tensed at first when his arm brushed hers, but soon enough she was melting against his side. Simon hauled her closer, anchoring her slight frame to his massive chest. She fit perfectly there, warm and soft against his hard, solid body.

When the credits rolled, blue light washed across the concrete walls. She moved with liquid grace, breath catching as she shifted to straddle his thighs, knees bracketing his hips.

"Well now," she whispered, eyes dropping briefly before meeting his through the darkness.

Her fingers trembled slightly as they found the hem of his balaclava. She just gathered the fabric at his neck, rolling it upward with deliberate slowness. She stopped just above his nose, leaving his eyes hidden in shadow but exposing the hard line of his jaw, the heavy stubble, the pale scars that webbed across his lips.

Simon remained perfectly still, his breathing turning ragged beneath the fabric.

She leaned in, heartbeat thrumming against his chest, and pressed her mouth to his. The kiss began tentative, almost shy, but when Simon hummed, heat flared between them. His hands, huge and calloused, slid up her thighs to grip her hips, anchoring her as the kiss deepened, turned demanding and raw.

Where her uniform shirt met her trousers, skin was warm and impossibly soft. Simon let his palms trace upward along her spine, feeling her shudder and arch against him, a silent invitation for more.

His thumbs climbed her spine, pausing at the bra's metal clasp. A question mark pressed against her skin. His chest rose and fell beneath her, each breath a storm contained by bone and muscle.

Blue light painted her flushed cheeks as she nodded, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. She arched backward, peeling away her shirt and bra in one fluid motion. The fabric hit his locker with a soft thud, leaving her bare, breasts rising with each shallow breath in the dim room.

Simon's breath hitched, the sound raw in the enclosed space. "Bloody hell," the words grated from his throat.

He hauled her against him, his compression shirt no barrier to the heat radiating from her skin. The friction drew a hiss from between his teeth as his hands mapped every curve of her back.

She moaned, spine bowing like a drawn bowstring, then buried her face in the curve of his neck. "Your turn, Lt. Please."

"Patience, love. I've got plans for you first."

Her shyness evaporated, replaced by raw hunger. She hooked her fingers in his shirt hem, dragging it upward. Simon lifted his arms, letting her strip him bare. His torso emerged in the blue glow—a landscape of scars across muscle and bone.

"Jesus, Simon..." Her thumb traced a jagged line below his collarbone, touch reverent.

His muscles tensed, a grunt escaping as she peppered his jaw and neck with hesitant kisses. "What's brought this on?" he rasped.

"I wanted you," she breathed, heat blooming against his skin. "And you're finally here."

"Can't argue with that."

"I like this," her voice dropped to a near-whisper. "As long as it's just us in this room, I want everything you're willing to give."

Warning bells screamed in Simon's head. He was a graveyard of secrets, and this woman shouldn't be digging around in it. Before he could form the words to push her away, she whimpered against his neck, a sound that shattered his restraint.

With a groan, his hands descended, rough thumbs circling her nipples until they hardened to peaks.

"Yes," she gasped, fingers tangling in his hair.

She was a perfect weight on his lap, pressing against his erection through tactical trousers.

"New scars," she noted, fingers tracing a fresh pink line near his ribs.

"And new ink," his voice dropped as his fingers brushed the waistband of her trousers. Even in the dimness, he made out the shape of a gun among roses, a skull peeking through thorns. "Show me properly."

Hesitation flickered across her face. "Simon..."

He claimed her mouth again, the kiss bruising, demanding. Then he rose, lifting her as if she weighed nothing and setting her on the cold concrete floor.

"Stay," he commanded, voice thick with desire. "Let me look my fill. I'm starving for what I see."

She stood in the center of the dim bunker, heat blooming across her cheeks, but her gaze remained locked on him.

Simon retreated a half-step, his eyes, still shadowed beneath the upper half of his mask — devouring her slowly. The new ink was a violent revelation against her quiet exterior. Down her right ribcage, dark roses bloomed in intricate detail, their thorny stems coiling around a service pistol's stark silhouette.

He circled her, combat boots making no sound on the concrete. Behind her now, he traced the ink's path across her lower back where a skull, shaded with grim precision, nestled among petals. It suited her; deadly and fragile in the same breath.

"Beautiful, love," he rumbled.

"Thanks," she whispered, shoulders hitching with a nervous breath. "Finished it after Mexico."

"Never guessed it was hiding under the uniform," he said, closing the distance behind her. He bent, pressing a warm kiss to the skull's center, stubble rasping against her skin.

She gasped, body trembling. "That's the point, Lt."

He kissed his way up her spine, across her shoulder blade, then turned her to face him again. His mouth hovered near hers, breath hot on her lips. "Is it, then?"

"The ink's for me," she murmured, lashes lowering. "No one else needs to see. Just you."

Simon's calloused fingers found her trousers' top button, unfastened it, then drew the zipper down with a slow, deliberate click. Beneath, dark cotton panties hugged low on her hips, framing the roses climbing her thigh.

"Caught myself watching you at the pool the other night," Simon's voice rumbled, rough as gravel, his palms branding her hips. "Almost made a move then. Almost scared you off with how badly I wanted to peel that swimwear right off your body."

His hands moved with purpose, shoving her trousers down until they pooled around her ankles. She stepped free, bare feet touching cold concrete as her hands fluttered against his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart through the scar tissue.

A slow turn, hips tilting just so, offering him a better view. Her fingers danced along the thorny vines climbing her thigh, tracing petals that looked too dark to be natural.

"Figured you'd want a closer look at these, Simon," she whispered, voice trembling.

When she glanced back over her shoulder with her pupils blown with hunger, that's when his military discipline shattered. Simon sank to his knees on the unforgiving floor, the sound echoing in the small space.

His calloused hands mapped the terrain of her legs, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh while tracing the gun's outline and rose petals. Goosebumps erupted across her skin as his breath ghosted over the ink. A sharp intake of air when his tongue flicked against the sensitive skin beside the barrel.

"Christ, you taste like sin, love," he growled, voice muffled against her thigh.

A breathy moan escaped her lips, fingers tangling in his cropped hair, holding him there as her legs threatened to give way.

His fingers hooked into her panties, dragging them down her legs. Once she'd stepped free, he spun her to face him, bare and vulnerable in the monitor's blue glow.

"Standing here completely naked while you're still half-dressed," she managed, voice thin as smoke.

"I know exactly how fucking lucky I am." He leaned in, pressing his lips to the ink on her hip, blood rushing in his ears as she cradled his head against her.

"Could be luckier if you lost those trousers too, Lieutenant," she whispered, though color stained her cheeks.

"Patience, Sergeant," he muttered against her stomach, tongue tracing circles around her navel. "You'll come first. Then we'll see about getting me out of these."

He rose, a mountain of scarred muscle and shadow, and backed her the two steps to the cot with his sheer mass. The force was absolute—his body a physical law she couldn't defy. She landed on the edge with a soft gasp as he retrieved a spare military pillow from his locker, dropping it on the cold concrete before sinking to his knees between her splayed thighs.

"Don't worry, princess" his exposed mouth twisted into something else, dark amusement glinting in his eyes. "This pillow's for later, when it's your turn to get on your fucking knees."

Her throat worked, pulse hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. He was going to break her, piece by delicious piece.

Simon's mouth branded the tender skin behind each knee before blazing a trail upward. He shoved her thighs apart with brutal efficiency, leaving no room for modesty or hesitation. Before she could process the sudden exposure, his tongue plunged through her slick folds, dragging a choked gasp from her lungs.

"You like that, do you?" His lips vibrated against her throbbing clit, letting her feel the wicked curve of his smile. The sensation shot through her like live wire, making her spine arch off the cot.

"Simon, please..." The words were barely coherent, her fingers twisting in the rough wool blanket as her vision fractured into bursts of light.

He was merciless. His technique was pure combat discipline applied to pleasure—slow, devastating strokes with the flat of his tongue that built unbearable pressure, followed by rapid, precise flicks against her most sensitive bundle of nerves. His forearms, corded with muscle, locked her legs wide open, pinning her to the mattress with absolute control.

He drove her to the precipice of a screaming orgasm, then cruelly pulled back, leaving her trembling and desperate. Again and again he repeated the torture, until she was a sweat-soaked, writhing mess against his sheets.

"Simon, if you don't let me come, I swear to God I'll... I'll take what's mine!" she finally snarled, all traces of shyness scorched away by frustration.

He leaned back just enough to bite the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, his lips glistening.

"I'd fucking love to see you try, Sergeant," his voice rumbled, dark eyes pinning hers. "But your orgasm belongs to me right now. You'll come when I decide you've earned it."

Her mouth opened and closed uselessly, chest heaving as his gravelly authority stripped away any remaining defiance.

Simon waited, a scarred brow arched in the dimness. "Mmm- Good."

He bent his head, and this time there was no teasing. He worked her with relentless, brutal precision until her climax crashed over her, stealing her breath and painting the bunker ceiling with explosions of color.

When her vision cleared, he was resting his heavy chin on her inner thigh, the exposed lower half of his mask lifted in something approaching genuine satisfaction.

A shaky laugh escaped her lips, fingers still clutching the blanket like a lifeline. "Fuck! You’re so fucking good at this, Lieutenant."

Simon's laugh was low and gravelly, a sound that vibrated through her entire body.

Simon rose to his knees. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, hands going to the tactical button of his trousers. She watched, pulse hammering against her ribs, as his fingers worked the stubborn fastening open. A soft sigh escaped her lips, any lingering shyness melting away under the heavy heat pooling in her cunt. He stood, dragging the heavy metal zipper down with a metallic hiss that made her wet, then kicked his uniform trousers aside with careless force.

He was a fucking fortress. Her gaze tracked the hard, lean muscle covering his body, a battlefield written in flesh and ink. But as her eyes roved upward, her breath caught in her throat. Catching the dim light of the bunker monitor were two silver bars running horizontally through his nipples.

"Simon..." she whispered, her eyes widening. "You've got your fucking nipples pierced?"

Simon let out a low grunt, a slight flush hitting his high cheekbones, though his exposed mouth twisted into something predatory. "Aye. A daft wager with Soap a few years back after a rough op in Belfast. Neither of us thought the other would bloody go through with it. I won, didn't I?"

"Does it hurt?" she asked, completely transfixed, her cunt clenching at the sight.

"Not anymore, love," he growled softly, stepping closer until his shadow swallowed hers completely at the edge of the cot. "But if you touch 'em right, you might get a rise out of me."

She swallowed hard, wildly flattered by the dark, hungry way he was staring down at her—like she was the only goddamn thing he'd ever wanted to devour. She shimmied to the edge of the cot and stood up, her hands coming up to rest against his broad chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart through scar tissue.

"You looked at my ink, Simon. Let me look at yours," she insisted softly, her thumb lightly brushing the silver bar in his right nipple, making his chest muscle twitch violently.

Simon let out a sharp hiss through his teeth, his jaw clenching. "Hurry the fuck up, then, love. Because I'm bloody starving for you."

She stepped around him, her eyes tracing the massive, grim artwork covering his back. An enormous, tattered skeletal reaper stretched across his shoulder blades, its bony hands reaching down his spine, clutching a pair of crossed combat knives. The shading was dark, heavy, and intense. Death made beautiful.

"Jesus, Simon," she breathed, running her fingertips lightly over the ink. "This is incredible."

"The regiment call sign," he explained, dropping to a quiet, rough register. "Reminds me of who I am when the mask is on. And who I have to be to keep the lads alive."

She stepped back around to his front, her eyes dropping to his ribs. On his right side, etched in neat, small military script, was a long string of numbers and names.

"Coordinates?" she asked softly.

"A graveyard," Simon muttered, his expression flattening, a shadow of the Ghost passing over his bare face. "Every man I've lost under my command. I put 'em on my ribs so they're always close to my chest. Keeps me sharp. Reminds me not to make the same bloody mistake twice."

Her heart swelled with a fierce, protective ache. She leaned in, pressing a soft, reverent kiss right over the heavy ink of his ribs, before looking up at him through her lashes. "And what about this one?"

On his hip, wrapping around the bone, was a heavy, coiled length of barbed wire, thick and jagged.

"That one's for the days I survived when I shouldn't have," he whispered, his large hand coming down to cup her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. "A reminder that hell couldn't hold me."

The dangerous gravity of him completely consumed her. He was a man built from trauma and war, a walking graveyard of secrets, but here, in the quiet of his quarters, he was letting her read his history like a fucking love letter.

Simon's arm clamped around her waist, dragging her naked body against the furnace of his skin. "Got condoms in the desk drawer," he growled, his voice raw with need. "Grab one, love, and ride my cock. Here. Now."

One eyebrow arched, her eyes igniting with a dangerous spark. "Pushy today, aren't we, Lieutenant?"

"Put 'em there this morning," he rumbled, chest hitching as her nipples dragged against his. "Been thinking about this all fucking day. You and me. Just you."

A slow smile spread across her lips as she pushed against his chest, guiding him back onto the cot. She reached for the desk, fingers closing around a foil packet. But she didn't tear it open.

"Patience, Simon," she whispered, retrieving the spare pillow from the floor and positioning it between his thighs.

His exposed mouth stretched into something predatory. "Oh, that's what that was for," he rumbled, dark eyes gleaming. "Fucking brilliant. On your knees then, Sergeant."

She sank down, the scratchy wool cushioning her knees from the unforgiving concrete. Color crept up her neck, but her gaze remained locked on his as she settled between his legs. Simon mentally recited every bloody weapons manual he'd ever memorized just to keep from spilling right there at the sight of her naked and willing, framed by his scarred thighs, looking up at him with hunger.

Her tongue traced a wet path up his inner thigh, eyes never leaving his shadowed ones. Simon's breath hitched, his hands finding purchase on her shoulders as heat pooled low in his gut. She knew exactly what she was doing, which made it ten times more torturous.

This was the woman who moved through the barracks everyday, all business and precision. But here? Here she was taking what she wanted with the same precision she'd field-strip a rifle.

When her tongue finally lapped up the length of his cock, Simon huffed out a rough curse, fingers tangling in her hair. The contrast between her soft strands and his rough knuckles was maddening. And the way her mouth, hot and wet, was currently swirling around the head of his dick was pure fucking torture.

She teased him, drawing it out until he was practically vibrating with need. He'd been in such a blind rush to bury himself inside her, but this... this was slow, deliberate torture. She was giving him back exactly what he'd done to her minutes ago.

The wet sounds she made in the quiet room were obscene, driving his pulse into the stratosphere. But it was the way her pupils had swallowed the color in her eyes when he'd taken control earlier that had nearly undone him. She was always so composed, so contained; he hadn't been sure how she'd respond to his dominance, but she was blooming under it.

Her mouth was impossibly hot as she swirled her tongue around the tip, then took him so deep her nose brushed against his pubic bone. Simon let out a guttural sound, fingers tightening in her hair.

She moaned around him, the vibration shooting straight to his fucking brain.

He was torn between wanting this to last forever and the desperate need to be buried balls-deep inside her. She looked like a goddess kneeling between his knees, those dark rose tattoos stark against her pale skin as she worked her mouth magic on him. But Simon had been fantasizing about this woman for months, dreaming of the moment he could finally claim her.

When her nails lightly scraped across his balls, his military discipline shattered. His hands tightened on her shoulders, guiding her back with gentle insistence.

"Wait. Stop, love," he choked out. "I want in you. Now."

She pulled off him with a wet, obscene sound, tongue darting out to taste him on her lips. "You were in me, Lt."

"Now I can be in your cunt," he growled. "Get the fuck up here and ride me."

Simon's vision swam as he fumbled for the metal desk drawer. His knuckles were white around the foil packet, breath coming in ragged gasps. Six months of wanting this woman, and now his hands usually steady as death on a rifle, trembled like a recruit's.

"Simon, wait," she whispered.

He froze, dark eyes snapping to hers. "What's wrong, love? If you want to stop, you say the word—"

"No, I don't want to stop," she cut in, voice dropping to something desperate. Her fingers wrapped his wrist, stopping his hand. "Get rid of it. I don't want anything between us."

Simon's jaw locked. "Love, we haven't... this is our first time, innit? I need to keep you safe."

"I'm clean, Simon. Fully screened after Mexico," she rushed out, gaze fierce. "Haven't been with anyone else. I don't want a piece of plastic separating me from you. I want you raw. All of you."

Simon stared, mind fracturing under the weight of it. Her calling him Simon, demanding him unfiltered, drove him past restraint.

"I'm clean too, love. Haven't touched a soul," he growled, voice dropping to something primal. "You're right sure, then? No going back from this, Sergeant."

"I'm sure. Put it inside me."

With a guttural grunt, Simon crunched the foil in his fist and hurled it across the room, where it hit the concrete wall and vanished into shadows.

But the greed in his chest clawed at him. He couldn't stand the fabric on his face anymore. He didn't want to hide from her. Not tonight. Not when she was offering him everything.

With a rough movement, he grabbed the hem of his balaclava and hauled it off, throwing it onto the floor.

His scarred face was entirely bare in the monitor's blue glow.

She caught her breath, chest freezing as she took him in. She'd expected something grim, terrifying based on base rumors, but looking at him now... underneath the ghost was a breathtakingly handsome, intensely mature man. The heavy shadow of stubble, the sharp line of his nose, the pale silver tracks of combat scars… they didn't ruin his face. They gave it a tragic, lethal beauty.

Her hand trembled as she reached up, fingers brushing his high cheekbone. "Simon..." she whispered, voice full of awe. "You're beautiful. You're so fucking beautiful."

Simon's eyes widened, fierce vulnerability flaring in his dark gaze. He didn't pull away. He let her touch him, jaw clenching as she slid her thumb over the jagged scar splitting his lip. She leaned in, reverent, and began pressing soft, lingering kisses to his face—kissing the line of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, every mark of war etched into his skin, validating the man beneath the monster.

A guttural sound tore from Simon's chest as his calloused palms framed her face. His thumbs swiped the heat from her cheeks before he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss that tasted of desperation and want. No balaclava, just wet heat and the electric shock of skin against skin, consuming and raw.

He gave her no quarter to retreat into shyness. Those massive hands slid down her arms, muscles cording as he lifted her off the floor like she weighed nothing. His thighs spread wider, making room as he hauled her straight into his lap, positioning her over his thick arousal.

Pure possessiveness guided his movements. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips with unyielding force, lifting her just enough before impaling her in one devastating thrust that buried him to the hilt.

"Christ, fuck," Simon choked out, his head cracking against the concrete wall as his hips bucked involuntarily. The raw friction of her cunt wrapping around him sent a violent jolt straight to his balls. It was too much, too intense, too deep. Every ounce of military discipline strained against the urge to spill right there, his jaw clenched until his teeth ached.

She cried out, sharp and breathless, fingernails scoring his shoulders as her body stretched to accommodate his girth. Her face buried in the crook of his neck, tremors racking her frame as she took every inch of him.

"Simon..." she whimpered against his skin, the name a prayer on her lips as all hesitation burned away.

"I've got you, love. Fucking take it," he growled with authority. His grip on her hips tightened, setting a punishing rhythm that had the cot's metal frame screaming against concrete. "Open that sweet cunt for me. You're mine tonight, Sergeant. Every goddamn bit belongs to me."

"Yes," she gasped, leaning up to claim his bare lips again, riding him with a desperate greed that matched his own. Their mouths clashed, tongues tangling as Simon drank in her gasps, his hands roving over the dark ink of the skulls and roses on her skin.

He let go of her hip with one hand, lifting his heavy palm to cup one of her breasts, giving it a sharp, teasing tug.

Her head immediately tipped back, breaking the kiss on a ragged sigh. Her inner muscles gripped him in a sudden, tight spasm, milking him, and Simon let out a snarl.

"Fuck, you're wrapping around me so tight," he growled, his voice gravelly against her ear. "You're ruining me, love. Don't stop. Keep that rhythm."

He slid his hand down from her breast, his large, rough fingers moving between their sweating bodies until his thumb found her center, slick and rubbing friction against his groin.

She hissed, her teeth catching the skin of his bare shoulder. "Simon, I'm gonna come… I'm close, I'm so close…"

"Come then," he commanded darkly, his thumb sliding back and forth over her clit in a ruthless, steady rhythm that matched the frantic pace of his hips. "Let me feel how tight you get for me, love. Give it to me."

"Simon!" she gasped, her voice dropping into a deep, broken register, completely coming undone under his hands.

Her body suddenly seized, tightening violently around him like a vice as she spiraled into a fierce, blinding climax, her inner walls pulsing rhythmically against him.

The sensation of her coming around him raw was too much. He pulled her down hard against his chest, locking his arms around her waist as he drove deep—three more frantic, devastating thrusts—and followed her right over the edge, filling her completely as a low, undone groan echoed off the concrete walls.

He kept his massive arms locked around her waist, holding her flushed, trembling body against his bare chest until his breathing finally began to slow. The metal frame of the cot had stopped its rhythmic groaning, leaving only the sound of their ragged, synchronized breaths.

Slowly, carefully, Simon shifted his weight. He didn't want to let her go. He settled her back onto the center of the bed, his hands lingering on her hips for a fraction of a second before he pulled away.

"Be right back, love," his Manchester voice emerged as a rough whisper.

She offered no response, lost in the haze of their joining, body humming with spent satisfaction. A slow nod was all she managed before pulling his dark military poncho over her naked form. The wool fabric, smelling of him, rose to her chin as she burrowed deep into his single pillow, watching him through heavy lids.

Simon crossed the small space to the bathroom, leaving the door ajar. He twisted the cold tap, letting freezing water sluice over his calloused hands. When he glanced up at the scratched mirror, he froze.

His face was exposed. Cheeks and jaw carried a flush that had nothing to do with combat adrenaline. He traced the pale silver tracks of his scars in the reflection, but for the first time in memory, they weren't markers of torture. They felt warm where her mouth had worshiped every line.

In past brief encounters, military discipline would already be kicking in. He'd be calculating extraction; how to remove the person from his quarters, how to sanitize his space, how to return to his duties. The Ghost didn't entertain guests.

But as he splashed icy water over his face to shock himself back to protocol, his mind refused to cooperate. It remained fixed on the woman on his cot. The scent of her skin, sweet and primal, still clung to his hands.

He didn't want her to leave. The possessive thought struck his chest like a bullet, more terrifying than any ambush. She had infiltrated his defenses, slipped beneath his skin just as surely as he had buried himself inside her.

Simon dried his face with a rough towel and walked back into the dim bunker, his bare chest tightening slightly as he approached the bed.

"Hey LT,” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep, a lazy satisfaction softening her lips as she watched him loom over her from beneath his military poncho.

"Hey," he rumbled, stepping close to the cot's edge. The raw exposure of his face bypassed his military conditioning, letting words slip free. "Stay the night, love."

Color bloomed across her cheeks, head shaking slowly as her eyes found her discarded uniform. "Simon, I can't. Morning PT is 0600. Price will know the second I'm late. He's already watching."

"I'll wake you up, baby," he murmured, his drawl dropping to something persuasive as he settled on the mattress edge. His scarred hand found her shoulder, stroking the bare skin. "Armory work starts early anyway. I'll wake you at 0530. Plenty of time to sneak back and change into a fresh kit."

Her gaze traveled from his hand to his exposed face, meeting the dark honesty in his eyes. The thought of those cold concrete corridors felt like punishment compared to the furnace of his body.

With a soft sigh of surrender, she shifted against the concrete wall, carving out space on the narrow cot. "If I get caught, Lieutenant, I'm telling Price it was a direct order."

A rough chuckle vibrated through Simon's chest, his scarred mouth twisting into something like a real smile. "Fair enough, Sergeant."

He slid onto the mattress beside her. The cot forced them together, bodies flush on their sides. Simon dragged the heavy wool blanket over them both, his massive arm banding around her waist to press her naked back against his chest. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the primal scent of her skin.

For the first time in memory, Simon didn't reach for his mask. He let himself be just a man, holding his woman in the darkness, sinking into a sleep deep and void of dreams.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The sharp, metallic buzz of Simon's watch sliced through the bunker's quiet.

His eyes snapped open. 0530 glowed harsh in green digits.

The night's soft warmth evaporated, replaced by pure soldier's adrenaline. Simon sat up, bare back tense as wire. He reached down, his grip firm but gentle on her shoulder. "Hey. Up, love. Clock's ticking."

She groaned softly, blinking against the dim blue light of the monitor. Then, reality hit her like a bucket of ice water. 0530. PT in thirty minutes.

“Shit,” she whispered, her shy demeanor completely replaced by panic as she threw off the blanket and scrambled out of bed.

The bunker became a blur of frantic, hushed movement. She scrambled for her clothes on the floor, her cheeks burning as she hurriedly pulled on her panties and shoved her legs into her uniform trousers. Simon was already on his feet, but instead of getting dressed, his first instinct was the mask. He grabbed the black balaclava from the floor and pulled it down over his head, the fabric snapping into place.

Just like that, Simon was gone, and the Ghost was back. But his actions were entirely protective. He moved to the heavy blast door, pressing his ear against the cold metal, listening intently to the corridor outside.

“Guard rotation is passing sub-level two right now,” Ghost rumbled, his voice filtered through the cloth, dark and authoritative. “You’ve got a tight three-minute window to hit the southern stairwell before the crew wakes up.”

“Right,” she said, her heart hammering against her ribs as she zipped up her uniform jacket and frantically laced her combat boots. She checked her reflection in his small bathroom mirror, smoothing down her messy hair as best she could. She looked like a soldier who had slept in her uniform. A bit suspicious, but survivable if she moved fast.

She grabbed her duffel bag and stood by the door, her nerves making her breath come short.

Ghost turned away from the door, stepping into her space. He looked imposing, lethal, and entirely masked. But he reached out, his large gloved hands cupping her face gently. He leaned down, pressing his covered lips to her forehead.

“Don't run in the corridors, princess.” he murmured softly, his accent a quiet anchor through the mask. “Walk like you belong there. If anyone asks, you were dropping off the after-action reports to my desk early. Understand?”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Understood, Lt.”

“Go on, then,” he said, hitting the hydraulic release button.

The heavy blast door hissed open, revealing the empty, sterile concrete corridor. She gave his hand one last, tight squeeze, then slipped out into the shadows, her boots clicking softly as she moving with practiced, tactical stealth toward the barracks.

At 0600 sharp, the morning sun was just peaking over the tarmac of the SAS base.

She stood in formation on the gravel grinding pad, her chest heaving slightly as she finished the final lap of the morning run with her squad. Her muscles were aching, a beautiful, secret ache from the night before—but her face was a mask of military discipline.

“All right, gather round,” Sergeant Soap MacTavish called out, wiping sweat from his brow as the squad formed a semi-circle.

As she took her place, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Walking out of the hangar toward the armory was Captain Price, holding a steaming mug of coffee. And walking a half-step behind him, towering and dark in his full tactical gear and skull mask, was Ghost.

Her heart skipped a heavy beat. She kept her eyes locked straight ahead, refusing to look at him.

Price stopped near the edge of the training pad, taking a slow sip of his coffee. His sharp blue eyes scanned the sweaty squad, lingering on her for a fraction of a second. A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of the Captain's mustache. He didn't say a word, but the knowing glint in his eye said everything. He knew. Or at least, he highly suspected.

Beside him, Ghost stood completely still, his arms crossed over his massive chest. To anyone else, the Lieutenant looked completely detached, a terrifying phantom of the 141.

But as the squad was dismissed, Ghost adjusted his stance slightly. He turned his head just a fraction of an inch in her direction, his dark eyes locking onto hers from behind the slits of his mask. He gave a single subtle nod— a silent confirmation that her secrets, her ink, and his bare face were completely safe between them.

Not the quiet of the field, that loaded silence where every snapped twig is a countdown. This is the quiet of fluorescent lights and linoleum and men who don't know what to do with their hands when there's no mission brief on the table.

Simon knows it well by now. Decades of it.

He finds you at 0247 hrs by the eastern wall of the compound, sitting on an equipment crate in the cold with your jacket somewhere that isn't on your body. Not crying. Not staring at anything in particular. Just present in the way that means absent.

He's seen it before. In the mirror.

He doesn't announce himself. You'd only straighten up, roll your shoulders back, manufacture something that looks like fine. You're good at fine. Good enough to fool the man with the clipboard and the psychology degree who'd nodded along and signed your clearance form three weeks ago.

Simon had read the report. Sergeant displays healthy coping mechanisms and strong unit cohesion.

He'd thought about what healthy coping mechanisms looked like on you in the months before. The way you'd drag Soap into the worst film you could find on a Friday, just to hear him complain. The way you'd argue tactics with Price over terrible coffee like it was sport. The way your laugh carried down the hall and somehow made the hall feel shorter.

Simon hasn't heard it since Verdansk.

He crosses the yard without a word and sits on the crate beside you. Not close. Just present. The cold doesn't bother him. He's a sniper. He can wait.

You don't tell him to leave, and that's something.

The silence between them stretches long enough that Simon starts counting his own breaths. An old habit. Something to do when there's nothing to do.

Eventually, you speak first.

"Couldn't sleep."

It isn't a question and it isn't an explanation. Just words to fill the air, thin as the excuse they are. He doesn't call you out on it.

"No," he replies.

Another stretch of quiet. Somewhere across the compound a door opens and closes. Neither of you moves.

He watches you from his periphery the way he watches everything—without appearing to. You've pulled your knees up slightly, arms loose over them. Relaxed posture. Practiced relaxed posture. There's a difference and you've never known that he knows it.

Your eyes are doing that thing again. Open but somewhere else entirely. Not quite a thousand yard-stare, but close.

Verdansk. Or before it. Or the specific seventeen seconds he suspects you replay on a loop because he has his own seventeen seconds and he knows what they do to a person's face in the dark.

"Soap used to hate the cold," you remark somberly.

It comes out almost conversational. Like a grenade with the pin already pulled, lobbed gently into the space between you.

Simon lets it land.

"Aye," he agrees. "Complained about it enough."

The corner of your mouth moves. Not quite a smile. The ghost of the muscle memory of one. It's the closest he's seen in weeks and it costs you something—he watches you pay it.

"He complained about everything." Your voice stays even. Careful. "Terrible sleeper. Ate like a bloody labrador. Couldn't fold a map to save his life."

Could save yours, though. Simon doesn't say it. Neither do you. It sits between you anyway.

He waits.

"I keep—" you start, and stop. Your jaw tightens. He watches you decide whether to finish, watches you weigh the cost of it. "I keep forgetting. For a second. In the morning. Before I'm fully—" A shaky breath. "And then I fucking remember."

Simon says nothing.

Because there is nothing. Because he does it too, that horrible half-second of grace before the weight of it crashes back down, and he knows that anything he says about it will be either a lie or a uselessness. So he says nothing, and he stays, and after a moment his broad shoulder finds yours in the dark. Gentle.

Not too close, not a press. Just contact. Proof of another person.

You don't pull away.

"Price should have told us," you say, quieter now. Something harder underneath it. "He should have. We fucking deserved to know. We deserved the choice."

"Aye," Simon agrees again. "We did."

It's all he can give you on that. It's all he has. The anger about Price lives in him too, in a room he hasn't opened yet, and he suspects when he finally does, it'll take a wall down with it.

But not tonight.

The cold finally wins. You shift, and the movement seems to drag you back into your body, into the practical fact of being a person sitting on a freezing metal crate at three in the morning.

"My arse has gone numb," you announce.

Simon huffs through his nose. The closest thing to a laugh he's got in stock these days.

"That's what the jacket's for," he says.

"Didn't ask for commentary, Lieutenant."

"Wasn't commentary. Was a fact. You're sat out here freezing yer tits off out of spite."

You turn to look at him properly for the first time all night—actually look, eyebrow up, something sharp flickering behind your eyes that he hasn't seen since before everything went to hell.

"Out of spite," you repeat.

"Aye."

"That's rich, coming from the man who once stood watch for nine hours in monsoon season because Price suggested he take a break."

"Different."

"How."

"I'm not the one with a numb arse."

It surprises a sound out of you—short, ugly, real. A guffaw. An actual one, dragged up from somewhere you'd buried it, and it shocks you both. Your hand comes up like you can catch it and put it back, eyes going wide for half a second like you've done something wrong.

Simon watches you sit with the fact that you're still capable of it.

"Soap would've had something to say about your arse, Lt.," you mutter, recovering.

"Soap had something to say about everything."

"He'd have offered to warm it up. Cheeky bastard."

"He'd have gotten decked for it."

"He'd have deserved it." You wipe your face with the heel of your hand, quick, businesslike, pretending it's the cold. "God. He was so fucking annoying."

"Worst man I ever served with," Simon agrees.

It's a lie and it's the truest eulogy either of you has managed in weeks, and you both know it, and that's exactly why it works.

He stays beside you in the cold until your breathing evens out, until the rigid set of your shoulders drops two degrees, until you're no longer somewhere else entirely but here, on a crate, in the dark, next to him.

It isn't healing. It isn't fine.

But you're still here.

And for Simon Riley, who has learned not to ask for more than what he's given, that is enough.

It was common for you to treat them like this, being so sweet to them, doting and taking everything they offered up for you and more. An unspoken agreement, passing you between them, no tricky sticky strings attached! It was needed. For you to have both of them that was. Sam was soft, appreciative with words and touches, fucking you tenderly on his impossibly thick length - You needed Sebastian’s mean bites, his rough fucks and heavy spanks, all the gross and dirty words he had for you, all bark and bite to add. You needed them both.

There had been a few close calls so to speak. Nearly being interrupted by the other man. Like when your pretty hand was wrapped nice and sweet around Sebastian’s cock, tugging him off under the saloon table while Sam left for the bathroom. He urges you with a chuckle. Belt buckle unclasped, waistband pulled down just enough to reveal the curve of his cock and plush of his balls, your hand milking just under his tip. Sticky and loud, dirty, dirty noises from the drooly pre and hot spit he’d told you to dribble on him, schluck, schluck, schluck only hidden by the chatter of the bar. You tell him you don’t have time-! “He’ll be back-” You urgently murmur. 

“So? Gonna make me cum or what? Can’t keep your filthy hands off of me- Uh-uh. Don’t stop now, Princess.”

Or when Sam had lost track of time, his face buried into your sweet cunt, lapping and kissing away, large palms splayed over your thighs while he shook his head, dragging his tongue on your clit. He had you in his bed, pressed into his mattress by his hands, tongue fucking your cunt feverishly, lovingly, whiny groans of appreciations muffled against you. Slick and sweet, messy on his tongue, feeding him with cries of his name like a mantra “Sam.. Sam~ Saaam..” ringing in his ears while your fingers twirl into his hair. It’s especially messy when he hears the shuck of shoes on the gravel path, the spicy, smoky smell of cigarette wafting through the crack of his window- Yoba, you pair didn’t have long at all, Sebastian surely, nearly at his front door.

“Cum f’me.. C’mon- cum, cummm, gotta hurry - fuck - cum on my tongue.”

Sharing you had come easy enough, especially with the fleeting comments and spice-filled touches the two men shared themselves. Awkward teenage first kisses leaving budding hard-ons straining in ripped jeans. Sweet parallel play handjobs with needy blue and green eyes fluttering over the other away from the porno playing on the laptop in front of them, hoping to catch a glimpse without the other seeing. Feverish frotting of their cocks deep into the night, whatever cheesy horror film forgotten in the background. Soft thrusts, rough fucks, frustrations taken out on each other’s bodies- Adding you into their separate rosters made everything sweeter.

But all of that was about to change. Whether you or they meant for it to or not.

They couldn’t help but entertain the idea. Not when you basically threw out the opportunity to them. Countless times each man had caught you whining the other’s name, a sweet and silly amalgamation of “S-Sambastian~!” tumbling from your pretty, kiss-bitten lips at least a handful of times. It wasn’t like they fully meant to have you like this, but Yoba, did it come easy.

It was a normal game of Solarian Chronicles, well, as normal as it was for Sebastian to have two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, finger fucking you with wet pressing curls, all while Sam went off doing Yoba knows what- Neither of you were really listening all that much, far too enveloped in the sweet, budding tension zapping between you. It was hard enough to focus on the game alone, the threesome feeling a blanket of sticky lust, unspoken but all-knowing, laying thick over the corners of the tabletop map. It breaks the second the blonde closes the door, legs spreading, ring-clad fingers getting soaked in cream and slick, careful and whiny breaths huffing into Sebastian’s neck when he presses himself into you. 

You were fun, good fun. Sweet and easy fun at arm’s length - Literally. Easy for Sebastian to snatch right up and enjoy.

“Fuck.. Look at you.” Sebastian urges, allowing his other hand to pinch your jaw, tugging you from the safety of his neck, urging you to look at the mess between your legs. Milky fingers squelching in the depths of your cunt, hugged by your tight hole- Yoba, he loved stretching you like this, scissoring his fingers in you, bullying into you. Another.. Just one more- Three long and dexterous digits lodged up in your heat, dripping with slick, palm rubbing into your clit with each rolling curl. The grip on your jaw was dizzying, fingertips squeezing just the right pressure points, making your head spin, leaving all the focus and feeling on the squelch of your pussy. Sebastian was good. An expert with his fingers, pretty, milky and veiny born out of the vigorous dance across his keyboard day in and day out, curling into that spongy spot inside of you, with the heel of his hand palming at your clit. 

“S-Seb..I.. I’m-” your voice can’t help but stutter, breathless and bordering on a keening whine.

“..’You.. You’- You what, huh?” The man mocks. There's a huff of a laugh teetering on the edge of his tone, amused with your babbling, perhaps even endeared by it. Whatever it was, it has him hyper-focusing his attention on your puffy clit, grinding his palm into that swollen little thing, fingers moving to curl rather than fuck. Closer, closer came the sweet release he had been building for you, tensions running high, both of your gazes flickering to the closed door he had you facing. Whether out of worry or anticipation, the thick tensions between the two of you and that door were electrifying. “Gotta cum soon, hmm? What would Sam think? Seeing you like this.” You and he both knew that the blonde wouldn't be all too upset, but Yoba, does Sebastian still feel the wet clench of your cunt on his knuckles.

“Oh? Heh. Kissin’ on my fingers? Maybe you should moan louder- Get Sammy’s attention since you’re squeezin’ on me thinking about him.” He was a bully, but God did it work on you- Every. Single. Time. 

Your throat dares to ripple a mewl, falling past the sink of your teeth in your bottom lip, the poor bitten thing coming undone with a soft pop as your mouth falls open. You’re not sure if that did it, or if it was just a coincidence, but a steady set of footsteps make their way down the staircase to Sebastian’s room, thump, thump, thump, coming closer and closer- Just like you were. With your cunt wrapped around Sebastian's fingers teetering right on the edge.

“Takin’ so long it's like you want him t’see you like this. Is that it?” He lets his teeth scrape a drag over the supple skin of your neck as he speaks, “Gonna cum before he comes in? Hmm..? Or are you going to embarrass yourself.” You’re sure the squelch of your cunt is more than noticeable, rhythmic with Sebastian’s pace, wet and messy at the spiking anticipation of seeing that doorknob twist.

“Seb..-” It's an attempt at a warning, as if either of you were going to stop now. Your eyes lock hard on to that door, your body squirming in Sebastian’s lap, hips humping back into the heel of his palm pressing into your clit, feverishly chasing that sweet release. The man chuckles into your ear, spreading his fingers apart, putting on a messy show- Three digits deep, down to the knuckle, purposely messing up your supple hole, feeling you clench and squeeze in protest. 

You knew you were too loud, mewls fighting past your lips, huffy and breathless out into the open air of the basement, certainly seeping under the crack of the door. But you truly couldn't help yourself. Right there. Sebastian was right where you needed him, his fingers mashing into that supple little spot inside of you, into the spongy swell of your g-spot. How could you hide now? Keep down those noises when he had his palm grinding into your clit? So much- Too much even. 

Your fingers curl around Sebastian's arm, your soft palm feeling the bump of his wrist bone press into it, greedily pushing him into you while your hips hump back on his digits. Your head tilts back, eyes threatening to flutter on closed, but Yoba it’s impossible - With the pressure of Samson opening up that door, you keep one eye diligently squinted open.

“Gonna- gonna, S-Seb-!” Voice absolutely breathless, a whimpered whisper right at the top of your throat, cut off with a choking hiccup of a moan. “Please- pleaseplease m’so close~”

“Cum then. Cum all’ver my fingers c’mon- Fuck, that's it, thaaats fucking it.” Sebastian's voice was like syrup, smooth and honey glazed, practiced in that tone that had you babbling for more. Words like that were dangerous, they had you begging and affirming- cried out ‘Yes. Yes. Yesses’ for him, had your brain going mush, pleading and begging so sweetly, so kindly.

Knock, knock, knock came a rasp of knuckles on the door, a tentative sound, nearly unsure from the owner. Despite the begs and pleas Sebastian had you tumbling off of your tongue, you're quick to fall right back from it. Your blood pressure surely spikes, prickly anxiety and a twinge of adrenaline rushing through your veins, a babbled protest barely making its way from your lips as you try to squirm; “Waitwaitwait- Seb-!” You try, you really try.

“S’ Open!” The man betrays you, a grin in his voice, fingers relentless with their fucking. You sob out a mortified sound, all shaken and whimpered as if you were a warbling little pet left outside in the cold. It comes with that feeling of your pulse, rapidly thumping in your ears, ringing them with a flush when the doorknob makes that squeaky metallic twist. You watch on in near horror, hearing the creak of the door through the wet, juicy mess of Sebastian's fingers rapidly grinding into your pussy. Sam pushes through, tentatively peeking out from behind the wood, his own freckled cheeks dusted over in pink, teeth sunken into the peachy plump of his bottom lip.

Just the reveal of Sam's face had you guiltily gushing over Sebastian's fingers with an incessant whine, both embarrassed and invigorated at the man's presence.

It's wet, and so fucking messy. Practically squirting over yourself and Sebastian, drenching his hand with your juices, all drippy and sputtering all for Sam to see.

Your thighs snap closed around Sebastian’s wrist in an attempt to soothe the sharp ache of your orgasm, head throwing back over his shoulder while you dribble out the sweetest apologies; “Sam- S-am m’Sorry- sorrysorry S-Sammy! M’sorry~!” You sob out with a whiny cry, hiccuping any air you can manage back into your lungs before you’re babbling off again. 

You can’t help the sweet shake of your knees, twitching with your release, body squirmy in Sebastian’s lap in a pitiful attempt to both chase the high and hide away from the poor blonde. Sebastian doesn't let up either, finger still mushing into you, palm milking out the clenching release of your cunt - Heck, his other palm wraps around your shaky knee, his skin warm and tacky as his fingers dig into you, making a mean attempt to part your legs back open.

“N-noo.. Seb.. Sammy.. m’sorry-” Despite your protests, Sebastian manages to part your leg from the other, showing off the mess between your legs to the man at the door.

“S’pretty, hmm? Hah..” Sebastian teases with a huffy chuckle, spreading those three digits apart, covered in cream and sticky slick, enough to have you showing off the supple pink of your inner walls. The post-orgasm clarity has your brain fogged, swirly with humiliation and embarrassment, mingled with that fuzzy twinge of satisfaction in your chest- The little noises from your throat don’t stop, eyes blinking shut, forcing out bubbly little tears born out of hot humiliation.

Yoba, you don’t stop. Weakly voice crying out Sam's name in hushed and choked out sighs, soft apologies babble off of your tongue, voice jolting when Sebastian’s fingers dare to curl and press.

Until Sam shuts you up.

Soon the man was kneeling to the floor, dropping down to the hardwood with a hearty and unhealthy thud, sure to be horrid for the durability of his knees. He was wordless, cogs working in his skull as he was watching from the door, eyes widened and chest completely void of breath- God he still doesn't say anything, only cupping the tear-stained apples of your cheeks before capturing your lips into a sloppy, mouth watering kiss.

Sam was eager. Soft and velvety pink tongue swirling over your own, taking every opportune sobby hiccup you make to suckle and kiss into your mouth. A creak of a groan manages past his lips, muffled as soon as you lock together again, each exhale coming from his throat tainted with a supple tune of his voice. You can’t help but cling to him, arms throwing themselves around his neck, taking his kisses earnestly, your own little mewls piping up from your chest.

“Fuck.” It’s all Sebastian says, his breath hot on your neck, locking eyes with Sam’s greeny-blues, unbeknownst to you- An eyebrow raises, a quirk of a thing, and a soft, longing groan from Sam follows, giving a final loving suckle to your tongue. A rough drag of Sebastian's canines along your neck builds up into a suckling kiss of his own Just like that, a new dynamic flourished between you.

It felt like something out of a pornographic film, so wound in fantasy that the very idea hadn’t ever rolled over your brain - A girl could truly dream, right?

And yet here you are, sandwiched snugly between the two men, somehow having made it into Sebastian's bed. It was a bit of a tangle, limbs trying to situate themselves between the trio, attempting to come to a comfortable point. Clothes were gone, scattered across the room, thrown and strewn haphazardly between hot kisses and bites, through gropes and caresses- Skin touches skin, already becoming tacky with heat, wet with spit and the warm flush of blushes.

You sit nicely, straddled on Sam's lap, supported by the thick of his thighs, his thick and weighty cock pressing lovingly against the skin of your tummy, dribbly, drooly with sticky pre while his tongue shoves its way down your throat. Sebastian was more than close by, daring to drape himself over your back, his lips nipping and kissing into the groove of your neck, back into that little spot his teeth seemed to favour. Your hands travel up and down Sam’s chest, cupping under the blonde’s jaw, desperately holding on to him as you kiss. Your throat moans little staccato noises into Sam’s mouth, in time with each quick and rhythmic curl of his fingers, squishing into your cunt this time. 

You can’t help but hump into him, riding your clit against his palm as those thick, calloused guitar fingers spread you open for- Yoba, the blessing between his legs he called a cock. He had you cupped in his hand, palm twisted upside down while his middle and ring fingers beckon in your cunt, sweet little ‘come to me, come to me’s!’ over and over. His thumb even graces your lower tummy with a few soft caresses, loving and a little scratchy with the roughness of his thumbprint.

“Nawh.” Sebastian tuts a mocking, pitiful noise, smirking into a chuckle against your kiss bitten skin. His hand comes to lay over your tummy, caressing down, down, reaching the leaky tip of Sam’s cock before he wraps his palm around it. Sam himself stifles a whine into your mouth, a slurred attempt at Sebastian’s name, nearly chastising the man. Yoba, it's a good idea, you can’t help but join in, snaking a hand back down Sam’s chest, joining Sebastian in his grip, threading fingers as he pumps away at the blonde’s girthy length. You’re not precise, Yoba no, but God does he feel good in your hand, guided by Sebastian’s rhythm, letting you bump and grind into Sam’s palm with all the focus in the world.

“Sooo cute, Sammy. Hmm?” Sebastian teases, truthfully, you're not sure if he meant you or Sam-

“Mmph- f..fuhck up-” The blonde murmurs into your lips. Well, there's your answer.

Sam doesn't stay mad for long, moaning openly into your mouth, working his fingers into you with gusto despite the milking squeeze of yours and Sebastian’s shared hands wrapped snugly around his length.

“Hahh.. Mean it, both look cute like this.” As if on cue, you both breathe a shared whine- Blood rushes up the length of Sam’s cock with a hearty gush, flexing under the grip of your fingers, just as your cunt dares to flutter a kissing squeeze on the blondes juice soaked knuckles. Sam swears, giving a few mean and quick curls of his fingers, making you cry a few more whimpers on his tongue. 

“Hnnmm.. Fuck- Squeezin’ me when he-” He pulls away enough to speak, free hand pressing to the skin of your neck, large, warm palm radiating a sweet heat as he cups under your jaw. He keeps up those mean, jutting curls, his head tilting like a curious puppy, blue eyes soft and doe, brow pitched in concentration as he finger fucks your supple heat. He watches your own eyes roll, breath leaking out from your chest as your head does its best to lull with the sudden spiky pleasure. “Feels good? Hmm??” The man sounds desperate, fishing for praise, almost sounding..

“Jealous, Sammy?” Sebastian pipes up, caressing his lips over your skin with a grin, eyes sharp and dangerous as they watch the blonde. “..’Can both make her feel good, y’know?” 

Sebastian’s free hand dips under the swell of your ass, easily finding the squishy wrap of your pussy, snug and suckling on Sam’s fingers. Sam feels you flex and flutter as Sebastian’s fingertip traces gentle, genuinely near tantalizing circles around his knuckles, gracing your gooey cunt hole as he does. You whimper, thighs twitching, hips still letting your clit kiss Sam’s palm in little craning humps, seeking out friction to soothe the ache of your arousal. 

“Or are you intimidated? Think I’ll one up you?” Sebastian was certainly one to tease. Both with words and his actions. Those fingers of his threaten to ease into your wetness, grazing against your hole, sticky and creamy from the arousal that Sam had coaxed out of you.

“As. If. You. Could.” Those words spoken by Sam were punctuated with a rough fuck of his fingers, curling to emphasize his point at your expense, making you peep out again.

“Guys- hmmn~..” You honestly nearly begged.

“Nawh..” Sebastian tuts, kissing his teeth with the point of his tongue. “What do you think, Princess?” His voice drops uncharacteristically soft, supple and sweet despite being in the presence of Sam, almost a mock of a coddle. “Wanna have a turn with each of us? Hmm?” That finger ever so carefully pushes past the tight ring of your pussy, “Or d’ya wanna take us both.” He doesn't even frame it as a question.

“Hey wait-” Sam pipes up before his throat cuts him off with a whine, silenced by the flick of Sebastian's wrist, the hand holding on to the girth of the blonde’s cock giving several rough pumps, “F..Fuhck-” his chin juts up with a clumsy swallow, clicky as his Adam’s apple bobs.

“Think he needs some help, huh?” You can hear the grin in Sebastian’s voice, the man leans over your back, sinking his teeth into your neck, his own fingers sliding their way in, against Sam's thick digits. Ohh it's a new feeling, stretched on two sets of fingers moving in their own way, sliding up against one another in the confines of your walls. 

“Shit..” Sam pipes up, bewildered with the lack of words on his tongue, feeling Sebastian slide against his knuckles, fighting the urge to intertwine fingers inside of you. 

“What's it gonna be?” Sebastian makes it hard to concentrate, the warm ring in your ears blinding out your senses, the hot squelch of your pussy on their fingers being the prevalent topic in your mind. 

Yoba, fooling around with the pair separately for the time you had been was a rush- This? You were high on them, on the words and touches from either man, the mingle and twist of them working together all while they bicker and veer off. They were unpredictable, but it was addicting. 

“Wanna.. Wanna take us together..?” Sam was breathless, cock being milked by Sebastian's mean hand, your own palm loosely held on for the ride. The blonde looks at you with those puppy-dog-blues, playing the nice one out of the good cop bad cop routine Sebastian had put upon you. You managed to huff an endeared sound, God how could you say no to him?

“Yes- y-yes..” Your free can cradles the Blonde's cheek while your head tilts back to rub against Sebastian's temple. 

“Pretty girl wants to take us together? We’re gonna have to stretch you out then, huh?” You hear the snicker in Sebastian's voice and feel the grin of his lips stretch over your skin while his fingers jam their way into your cunt with a newfound vigour. “Why just share you around like a little whore when we can fuck that little cunt at the same time?” Hey give the man credit, he sounded convincing to you, with your brain gone all mush and your pussy kissing a squeeze against both of their knuckles.

The pair finger you open, dirty words and praises dripping off of their tongues while you whimper and keen, humping into Sam’s flat palm, wiggling your hips to meet Sebastian’s finger-fucking. Sam kisses your lips, drooly and sloppy, riddled with his own moans thanks to Sebastian’s multitasking, mewling those noises into your mouth while his cock gets stroked. You’re not sure if Sebastian’s teeth ever even left your neck, teeth-filled kisses sinking up and down the curve of your shoulder.

God, you were messy- Thanks to the wet orgasm Sebastian had pulled out of you just minutes before helping the entangled fingers work together to stretch your supple hole. It's not long before Sebastian makes the first move, popping off of your neck and slowing down his mean fingers, urging you up on your knees while he fists Sam’s cock towards your finger-stuffed cunt.

“Hmmn.. Think you can take Sammy? Start off slow?” The man teases, knowing too well that Sam’s cock was thick, girthy and heavy- Dare to say even bigger than Sebastian himself. You’re sure he knew it, felt it even, right in the palm of his hand. Sam hisses through his teeth, feeling the weepy pudge of his head kiss and slide through the sticky plush of your folds. He slips his fingers from your heat, giving your clit a soothing, even loving rub before his tip replaces them, tapping and grinding on your tender bud with the help of Sebastian.

The blonde was mostly speechless, watching on with bewildered eyes, his brain seeming as if it was still not completely up to date with the current happenings. Oh, but when he slides into the warmth depths of your pussy- Squeezed by your creamy, velvety walls, hugging on his girth, twitching on his veins. Sam’s throat dares to choke a whimper, his lips wrapping into a wordless string of profanities. You look down at him with a blush on your face, a wobble on the edge of your lips, straddled on his lap with his cock tummy deep, pretty chest on display and all.

He can’t help a few rocks of his hips, sweet little humping fucks into your cunt, feeling the kiss of your creamy folds on his base, wettening him up. It doesn’t take long for you to realise the fact that Sebastian’s fingers still lay nestled in your walls, pressed up against the thrumming vein of Sam’s length, even teasing the underside of his tip with the tops of his digits. 

“Hmmn.. Sam… S-Seb..” You call for them softly, giving your own experimental wiggle, biting into your bottom lip, neck craning to look at the darker-haired man behind you.

You honestly don’t catch his gaze, sharp eyes all the more focused and interested in the creamy mess on his fingers, the stretch of the soft ring of your cunt. With his hand now free, it goes straight to the plush of your ass, pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look.

“So pretty like this.. How’s it feel? Sitting on a cock in front of another man?” More mean teases. And yet it makes you twitch. “What's one more? Hmm? Heh.” He gives a few mean, quick scissors of his fingers, mocking a moan with your own when your chest ripples with noise. You’re sure you feel Sam twitch with you- But Yoba, you can honestly barely tell. 

“F-Fuck.. Seb-” Sam bites into his lip, uttering your name on the end of his tongue, after spewing out the other man’s. His hips squirm a little, chasing the friction of Sebastian's fingers, those digits rubbing and pressing into the swell of the underside of his head, his sensitive glans getting stroked and brushed.

“Nawh, look at him.” Sebastian’s voice is right in your ear, breath tickling your neck. Your elbows twitch, flexing to keep you held up, eyes fluttering at the pulse of arousal in your core. Sebastian’s fingers spread hard, scissoring apart, forcing a matching mewl out of both yours and Sam’s lips.

Oh, you feel it. The blunt, velvet tip of Sebastian's cock, daring to press against your cock-filled hole, by the stretch of his fingers making room in your gushy little thing.

“Fuck- Sebastian.. I- don’t t-think..” You whimper, throwing your head back to look at him, eyes doll and worried, showing off the swirly nervousness happening in your brain. For a moment the man’s eyes soften, dropping to a little look, a quirk to his upper lip and a careful pout to add. The moment is gone as soon as it comes. Sebastian’s tongue lodging itself down your throat, the pudgy tip of his dick making its way into your entrance, his mouth eating up the yelp you cry. One hand balances on Sam’s chest, nails digging into the supple softness, seeking out comfort against the stretch the raven-haired man had to offer up.

Yoba. It's like Heaven and Hell. Feeling so full right up to the brim, tummy bulging with cock, cunt wrapping around two gorgeously thick lengths. The sting is there, achy with the bullying stretch, feeling like you're going to split apart-! But God does the squish of their tips feel so wonderful against the mush of your cervix. Those pulsing girths flexing and drooling against each other, throbby vein to vein, sensitive tips kissing each other inside your wet pussy. You mewl for them, each and every breath you make tainted with your voice, throaty and needy little noises while you tilt and crane your hips.

You pop off of Sebastian’s lips, back arching down, a sweet curve right down the middle of your spine while your head tilts back to let a mewl out.

“Holy Fuck.” What. A. Sight. Pussy on display for Sebastian to see, stretched pretty and stuffed full of cock. Dribbly with slick cream, running down the length of him like a weepy teardrop, mixing with the dark wiry hairs on his base as if your cunt was crying out.

Yoba, he flexes inside of you, urging Sam’s thick and pudgy tip to dribble with a flushing throb of his own. Sebastian nuzzles back into the sanctity of your neck, teeth grazing as his sharp eyes catch a glimpse at the blonde; freckled cheeks all pink, plump lips bitten as he eyes the kiss of your pussy on his base, raking them up to meet the piercing gaze of Sebastian.

“Sh..Shit-” It's all the blonde can manage.

It starts with a hump. You’re not sure who starts moving- Fuck, no one really cares.

The trio moves in tandem; Your palms flat on the mattress dug into the sheets on either side of Sam’s ears, letting your tits bounce in front of him while he spears you down on his length. His large, warm palms rest on your hips, thumbs pushing pressure into the swell of your tummy, against the bump of his and Sebastian’s cocks, feeling their lengths from the outside. Sebastian’s own hands dare to rest on top of Sam’s, crudely intertwined as his hips snap into your ass, making the flesh jiggle with each grinding hump. His movements are unlike Sam’s rougher, harder, quicker- breaking up the pattern the blonde sets for you, keeping you on your toes, forcing out breathy surprised whines and mewls, pretty little juts of your voice each time he hits a new spot. 

You were tight- so, so tight for them, thanks to the thick of each man’s cock. Your skin burnt with hot pleasure, taking over any ounce of staging pain you may have felt from the thick stretch, it was like your blood was on fire. It was like a high, a thick wave of desire blanketing over you, making your hips rock and squirm, fucking into Sam’s lap, grinding back on Sebastian’s cock, squelchy and slick, drooly, drooly mess.

“Ughh take that- Fuhck, take those cocks- That's it. Ohh You’re such a slut for cock aren’t you?” Sebastian breathes, growly and behind his teeth, grit tight. You can barely speak, humming an airy “Mmhm~” as your answer.

“Love takin’ our cocks yeah? Pretty Pussy’s jus’ suckin’ us in!” Sam joins in on the word fun, fingers tight on your hips, manhandling you down, watching that pudgy bulge in your tummy greet him with each hump of his hips. 

Sebastian growls another laugh. You feel his hand flatten on your upper back, fingers hooking around the back of your neck with a squeeze before he pushes you down.

This was a new angle. Good for him to fuck, face down and ass up, cunt fully on show now, the poor ring of your hole surely stingy and bruised. You cry out, a whiny choking hiccup, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Be.. Nice t’herrr-” Sam was there to comfort. He wraps his arms around you, locking behind your back, shoving his way between you and Sebastian, squishing you close to his chest as he lays back, draping your body over his front. Your tits squish into his chest, head moving to nuzzle into the safe, warm crook of his neck, inhaling the smell of some kind of classic men’s body spray- boyish and cute, making you sigh from your lips, hips wiggling in his lap. Sam plants his feet nice and firm on the mattress for leverage, using the bouncy thing to fuck up into you with a lot more ease. 

“She likes it- hahh.. Dontcha?” The Raven haired man hums out a moan of his own, snarky, sharp eyes squinting at Sam. “I can be nice,” he assures, weaseling his hand between the soft of Sam’s lower tummy, over the sticky little thing between your legs, that bud of a clit all for him to rub and caress. You mewl into Sam’s ear, spitty and wet as your lips part, ending the pitiful little noise with a pleading pepper of kisses to his jaw. One of his hands slides up your back, tangling into your hair, petting as best he could considering he was positioning his hips into the depths of your weepy cunt.

Sebastian lets up, slowing down his movements to a more.. Tender grind of his hips. He leans down, draping himself over your back, chest sweaty, skin all tacky.

“Nice enough?” He smirks at Sam, planting a lingering kiss to your hair, even managing to connect with Sam’s hand. The Blonde’s hips slow as well, coming into a rolling push, pressing himself deeper, deeper, deeper- Tip poking into your cervix. The walls of your cunt squelch on them, all juicy-wet from their mean and fast fucks, slippery with slick, your own essence used as lube.

Noises tumble from lips, soft groans, huffed and choked up at the back of the throat, deep and guttural with each push and pull. One cock presses in, the other pulls out. Rubbing, frotting inside the squeeze of your pussy, tip to tip, weepy and drooly making a mess over themselves and painting your cunt with their own beads of pearlescent slick. You sigh so sweet, all nuzzles into Sam’s neck, grinding back the best you can on both of their dicks.

Sam’s paw of a hand captures Sebastian’s jaw, cradling him from the kisses he gives your hair, swallowing down his saliva with a thick gulp. The plush of Sebastian’s cock was getting to him, feeling so sweet as it rubs up on him, pulsing veins, sensitive undersides gliding against each other.

“Jealous, Sammy?” Those sharp eyes glint at him, hips rolling hard with purpose, Sebastian’s hand still working hard at your clit. Sam’s cock gives a hearty pulse at his quip, forcing another whine out of each of you. 

The blonde doesn’t even respond, opting to pull Sebastian by the jaw, fingers squishing the man's cheeks, pursing his lips into a pucker before Sam laps his tongue into the other man’s mouth. Yoba, This was something. Now, not something unfamiliar to the men, oh ho no- but the sight of them, the slick and popping sounds of their lips kissing and suckling against each other had your cunt squeezing, drooling more sweet cream for them, hips craning to meet their movement. Their own fucks never falter, heck, they grind harder, breathing into each other's lips with a smack, pulling apart for barely a moan before the other shoves his tongue down and the cycle runs again.

This was intense- More than quick fucks and feverish bucking, slower, harder, dicks kissing your core, tummy full and swollen with their lengths, skin warm with the press of either man, Sebastian’s hand circling your clit in tandem with their passionate fucks.

“Hmmph Fuckk~ so good..” Sam whines, keeping his grip on Sebastian tight. His other hand comes up your back, tickling at the edge of your hairline, his own affections while he slobbers on the other’s tongue. You don’t help at all, lips suckling bruises into Sam’s neck, kisses and licks up to his ear where you mewl and praise. The dark haired man lets out a nasty groan, sinking his teeth into Sam’s tongue, lapping and licking up his saliva, hips rolling against your ass, drilling his dick in your wetness. 

“Shit-” Sebastian slurs on Sam’s tongue, hips stuttering, hand still flat and mean pressing on your back. Sam hums an affirmative noise, a sweet “Mhmm!” in agreeance, feeling that build in his gut.

“I- ahh.. Hahh. m’gonna cum~ gonna make m-me-!” You’re the first to announce it, pussy clenching in anticipation.

Just hearing those words had Sam blowing ropey spurts into your cunt, dick flexing every time he blew another pool of salty-sticky nut into your guts. He mewls sweetly, pulse, pulse, pulse against your walls, flexing on Sebastian’s dick, muffled, tongue blabbering sounds clumsily called into the other man’s lips. His hand tightens in your hair, twirled and twisted, pushing you over the edge with the sweet sting- and with the help of his sweet, sweet orgasm.

You squeak your own noise, waily and hiccuped in Sam’s neck, hips wiggling against his pulsy dick, grinding into Sebastian’s fingers, chasing that sweet climax. You twitch and squirm when you cream on their cocks, adding to the wonderful mess between your legs, squeezing on their length, cunt kisses flexing with each pulse. Your toes curl and fidget, sweet cries of each of their names tumbling off of your lips; “Sammyyy~ Seb- Seb, please-!” Grinding back on him, desperately wanting to get the man off too.

Of course, it works.

A hot flex of his orgasm, popping off of Sam’s lips with a long, drawn-out groan, nosing into the tacky, sweaty skin of your neck, mouthy kisses back on your shoulder, just adding to the bitey kiss marks he’d left on you already. He spurts his own creamy mess, filling up your cunt to the absolute brim, coating your insides, sticky over Sam’s twitchy head, painted nice and white with his cum.

It's all swears and profanity, twitchy grinds, hiccuped breaths each time an extra sensitive spot is touched. God, do they separate? Absolutely not. Rather, hot and wet kisses over skin, praises and squishes, coming down from the intensities, bewildered eyes with huffy half laughs. A clicky swallow here, a soft ask of “You okay..?” directed at Yoba knows who, mean persona’s dropped off. A talk was surely in order. But not right now. Let’s just.. Lay here a while.

→ Kinktober Masterlist & Taglist ←

A rare extra long fic from Risa <3

Thank you so much for reading! If you have any thoughts please let me know! I'd love to hear them <3 your words spur my heart on!

Property of : SashiAvi

TagList

There was something of a Holiday Party occurring - A new tradition since the Community Centre had been cleaned up, spacious for the entirety of the town to attend, freely mingling and dancing away with a few pocket groups chatting on the sidelines. The more “Adult-Adults” - The Parents of many young people of the Valley - Congregated by the fire, letting the flicking warmth absorb into their skin, soothed from the chilling bite of the outside with their own fire burning up in their guts, born out of the little treat of alcohol they sipped at. Others mingled elsewhere, spread across the varying rooms, even the children ran and played in the crafts room, welcomed now that festivities didn't have to take place in the depths of the Saloon or the frosty outside of the Town Square.

You were with your usual gaggle of friends; Samson, Abigail and Sebastian, tucked away by the storage pantry, sat on crates and barrels filled to the brim with bits and bobs. You giggle airily at Sam and his usual antics, nursing your cup of eggnog while you shift on your makeshift box-seat, careful to avoid lodging a splinter in Yoba knows where. The vibe was cozy, wrapped in a glowy warm as you look between your friends, a buzz in your tummy leaving your head a little light, lips a tad looser than before.

Your eyes land on Sebastian, propped up on his own crate, chin tilted up high enough to reach the crack of an open window, blowing hot nicotine smoke from his lips into the brisk chill outside. He drags his cigarette hard, the end firing to life with a burn of hot orange, ashes flecking off of the edge before it dies away, smoke carried into his lungs to settle before he blows out once again. He was methodical, practiced in the movements as if he’d sneaked a puff of tobacco before, pierced tongue wetting over his lips, spit surely warm enough to battle the cold kiss of night air reddening his mouth with a blush.

You can’t help but watch him, eyes soft with puppy-love, attention easily slipping away from the present conversation. It was a known fact that you harboured a few feelings for the dark and mysterious man - To you and your other friends at least - Having Samson and Abigail on your back about just asking Sebastian on some sort of date, heck, they’d even offered to set the entire thing up! But there was something that nibbled at your subconscious, a whisper chanting doubts into your thoughts like an earworm, suck on repeat as if it were a bad but catchy song. They assured you, swore up and down that he totally felt the same! But you couldn't let yourself believe it, stuck in a loop of pitiful pining, drooling like a dog with its favourite treat just out of reach, dangled above your head like the sweetest forbidden fruit.

You're snapped out of your trance with a soft kick to your shin, Abigail’s boot tip connecting with the bone enough to jump a startle out of you. She was snickering, and so was Sam, eyebrows raised with a soft mocking cat call, ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ whistled slyly under their breaths lest the other man notice. You pout at them, hiding the expression behind another sip of spiked eggnog, eyes squinted enough to show off your unamusement and potential embarrassment. 

The thick brandy-laced custard slides down your throat with a swallow, adding to the warmth flushing inside your tummy, aided with the bashful sear brought on by Sam’s continued pokes. The alcohol leaves a subtle burn on your tongue, a bubbling in your stomach, turning the sweet and giddy fizz of a crush into something thick and near nauseating. You smack your lips, letting them pout into a small frown, tongue poking past in a childish manner before you let yourself giggle again.

Abigail hops up, sauntering to Sebastian to bum a cigarette off of him, joining by the slight crack of the window on the other side of the room, out of earshot for the next few babbles Sam had for you.

“He looks good tonight, doesn’t he?” Samson ever the lightweight dares to slur your way, cheekily taunting at the crush he knew you harboured for the other man. At first it was all comforts and sweet reassurances, repeating the same lines over and over- Of course you're pretty, of course you're his type, he looks at you too you know? - Until it morphed into not-so-subtle teases and jabs, Sam and Abigail growing tired at the same song and dance of reassurances, opting to wiggle their eyebrows and wink with a coo every time they caught you even glancing at Sebastian. They cared still, obviously, soothed away at the sharp stabs of insecurity that wriggled it’s way past the wall of your inner thoughts and out to them, these days the comforts presented themselves in a sly glance and a knock on your back forcing you to bump into the dark-haired man.

It was true that he did look good tonight; Hoodie swapped for a fitted black button down, coat forgotten at the door with the swallow of warmth inside the building. Piercings all matched with a dark silver sheen with rings to pair on a few of his fingers, bracelets and necklaces tied everything together, sheening behind his unbuttoned collar and rolled up sleeves.

You always hung out with the man in a group, surrounded by the others as a social buffer. Of course you had settled down in Abigail's room many nights past, eating snacks and playing video games until the ranch rooster crowed and the sun kissed its way up and over the horizon. Heck, you'd even spend afternoons with Sam, walking him home from work and staying until dinner, brainstorming music and chatting general nothingness until his mother had politely asked you to head home. 

But Sebastian was another story. How could you invade his sacred space for your own amusement? You could barely open the door to his home for his mother's services without biting your bottom lip and looking at each nail in the floorboards for a distraction, heart tingling at the idea of just seeing him in his natural habitat. A group meant safety, in numbers and outlets, avenues to sprint down in case of an emergency - The emergency being your hopeless and stumbly feelings for him.

Of course you talked to him, chatting away at your interests and his alike, walking drinks from the bar to the pool table with your eyes locked all doe on his face. You had a fair amount in common as well, but that darn bubble in your stomach often kept your feet glued to one spot, a half smile directed towards him in acknowledgement to whatever he would say.

– “You reckon that ring’s new? Looks kinda new…” Sam continues, pondering his astute observation, prying his way past the protective wall you had meticulously crafted surrounding your social body, urging for a comment.

“Maybe..” Your reply is short, safely guarded behind the fear of alcohol loosening your tongue. Sam hums, tilting his head, not at all hiding the fact that he was analysing the man by the window, smoking his way through a conversation, puffs of thick nicotine coming with the replies he had for Abigail before he sticks his head out of the window to blow again. You try not to stare, missing the way Abigail points your way, beaded bracelets on her wrist giving a clacking jingle, her own teasing comments falling off of her tongue with a steady drip of amusement.

“Should ask him.” Sam’s voice chirps again. Subtle teases, as always, trying to push the pair of you together like a girl does with her dolls, announcing the prophet of “Now Kiss!” while smushing their plastic faces together. It had happened once; Sam convinced you to go against him at the pool table, clumsily cracking the triangle of billiard balls with his pool cue, unmanaging to sink either solids or stripes. You admitted you hadn't a clue about how to play, and you were sure you were off the hook until the sunshine boy beams that cheeky, toothy smile at you.

“Sebastian will help!” he had exclaimed, failing to hide his grin when the raven-haired man shrugged and stood from the worn-out Saloon armchair he had been resting in. Though a little initially shy, Sebastian was one to open up with a little push.

That night was something of a struggle. Feeling the warmth of Sebastian's chest laying over your back, lengthy, nimble fingers drowning your own as he guided the pool cue, digits wrapping around the thrumming artery that pulsed in your wrist with a squeeze, just enough to have your head reeling. Click and clack went the sheeny resin balls, sinking into the holes of the pool table with an easy thrust of the cue thanks to Sebastian’s assistance, practically babying you through the process. His cologne stuck to you that night, soft and spicy and barely a hint of sweetness, bled into the threads of your top- Yoba, you’d never properly admit it but you didn’t wash the poor thing for far too long, not until the thick stain had properly lost its essence. The imprint of his body was something unforgettable, towering over your back, chin tucked by your ear, breaths slow and careful, full of focus as he whispered instructions with every turn, guiding your body as if you were his puppet. 

Ever since, it seemed to be Samson’s mischievous mission to pin the two of you together.

There were countless attempts only ending in hot embarrassment, the need to recreate a one off moment only becoming a tangled mess with its execution, like a failed flash mob two counts out of time. But you couldn’t be mad at Sam, in the end he was only trying (and mostly failing) to be your wingman. You squint at him, watching the blonde obnoxiously play with the bar lodged in his tongue, leaned back upon a box from his spot on the floor, eyes fuzzed out of focus in deep thought. Well, as deep as Samson could manage with the clear wash of tipsiness leaking from his body language. He huffs a sigh and chuckles, a goofy, lopsided grin leaning your way before it's hidden by his own sip of his drink, his pierced eyebrow raising as if to dismiss the curious thoughts you had swirling around behind your forehead. 

Sam hops up, a sway in his movement, humming under his breath as he explores a nearby storage closet, spewing out Christmas decor used to add Holiday Charm around the rooms. Ever so nonchalant. He rifles loudly, snickering to himself when he finds a dusty Santa hat, putting the wretched thing over his mane of hair before he continues on. The other pair make their way back over, the window now fully shut, locking in the warmth of the Community Centre, any remnants of the bristly chill snuffed out with a warm wash. Sam’s antics were loud, hands roughly exploring the space, pulling things out that surely shouldn’t be touched - At least not by him of all people. Sebastian and Abigail sit either side of you, the male opting to share a corner of the wooden pallet crate you had situated yourself on, very nearly pressing his bicep into your own as he watches Sam.

“Duuuude..” The blonde calls with a hiccuped laugh, practically jumping into a box to nab at something. Sebastian tilts his head, an amused quirk of a smile plastered on his pierced lips, the point of a double vertical labret (Not snakebites as Sam always annoyingly calls them) lifting with the action.

“That can’t be good.” Sebastian’s voice cracks soft, tone low enough for only you to hear, like a hidden inside joke. Of course, you giggle, top teeth sinking into your bottom lip to stifle the noise, your brain letting you laugh so effortlessly, as if you were a crushing school girl - Yoba it felt silly, and yet your body strives to work against you.

“I’m scared..” You mock a wobbly tone, a fake frown on your face which easily turns upwards as Sam yelps, coming up with his lucky-dip mystery prize he’d yanked up from the box. 

“Ooho..” The blonde calls, lifting up the very thing he had practically dived for; A stringy and sad looking worn-out piece of plastic mistletoe, decorated with a gnarly bright red ribbon in the beginnings of the end of its life, fraying right at the edges in wispy fabric feathers. His grin turns shit-eating, eyes darkening in your direction, dangling the sad plastic plant as if it were poison ivy, ready to rash anything it touched. “Ohh, Sebby-Webs~” He teases, making a wet, spit-filled kissy face at the other man. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes with a huff, pulling out his lighter and flicking the flame to life with a hearty click, a silent threat against the very existence of the sad excuse of mistletoe. Sam makes a show of pouting, sniffling faux snot up his nose in defeat before his attentions turn to you.

“He’s so mean, right?” He keeps up his pout, fake tears in his eyes. “You’ll smooch me, right?” He looked like a kicked puppy, bottom lip wobbling as he neared you, holding the plastic piece above your head. He looks to Sebastian, a glint in his eyes and a near smirk daring to twitch on his lip, stirring the pot, so to say. You fake a gag, looking to Sebastian to spout a joke but the man looked.. Well, tense. Brow furrowed just enough, body stiff in his spot beside you compared to the lucid and wobbled movements of Sam. “Just oneeee~” The blonde begs, teasing at you, making another puckered kissy face as he dramatically leans in.

Another one of his forced proximity plans perhaps-

A lean hand smushes into Sam’s lips, ring clad fingers squishing his cheeks, firmly but gently shaking his head. Oh, it was on now. A roughhousing play fight between the two men, giggles and fake insults, Sam and his mistletoe with pucker kissing noises now directed back to Sebastian. “Kiss meeee, kiss me- You know you want to~” Sam would sing, only to be refuted by Sebastian calling him some sort of choice word. You and Abigail can only look to one another, a stifled smile as the boys go at each other- Until an unhealthy crashing tumble occurs.

Sebastian yelps a swear, falling back on a box within the closet space, saved by the crinkle of tinsel rather than any sharp and nasty decorations. You don’t think, jumping to your feet, eggnog forgotten as you spring to help him.

“Seb-! Are you alright?” You reach him, lending your arm for him to use you as leverage, doing your best to pull him free. You get him up and standing, faced with his collarbones with his height compared to your own, closer than you initially had thought you'd be, the space tighter than it seemed with all the storage boxes-

A chuckle comes from the door, Sam with a teeth-filled and lopsided grin, one hand on the frame and the other tossing the sad little plastic mistletoe right at you before the door comes to a hearty, thunking close. Boisterous laughter is muffled, taunts of “Behaving” going nearly unheard as crates scrape against the hardwood floors, only logically being pressed against the door, successfully locking yourself and Sebastian inside of the tiny storage closet.

This felt juvenile, as if you were thrown into a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven, the door un-opening as you try your best to push - No luck. 

A hand rests snugly on your waist as Sebastian leans over, trying his luck at pushing the door to get it moving along its hinges, palm and fingers spread flat over the wood. It's a futile attempt. He chokes around a pant as he tries again, breath straining with a soft whine right at the back of his throat with his pushing, forming into a weak and disheartened groan of a sigh when he fails again. He swallows, breathing huffed, squared to catch himself before he braces to try again.

“Seb-” Your voice calls with a crack, your hand daring to reach for his bicep, giving him a soft squeeze, heavy with your touch thanks to the soft swirl of alcohol in your stomach. “Hey..” You try again before he relents, face snapping to yours in the dimmed-down closet, barely illuminated by the crack under the door. His breaths huff against your lips, hot and laced with tobacco and a wash of mint in a feeble attempt to mask the smell. He had managed to work up a small sweat with his attempts, smoker lungs surely fiery behind his ribs, puffs coming to an easy slow, air still coming from past his lips, brushing into yours like a faux kiss.

His hand on your waist doesn't move, plastered stuck right in place before the other joins, holding you right there - Closer than arm's length. You hear him swallow, see the bare brush of his tongue swiping over his lips, wetting them with saliva, piercings glinting with the bare shine of light. “Fuck..” Comes his voice, barely above a whisper, more rounded with the shape of his mouth and that harsh digraph sound nestled at the back of his throat.

It's quiet - So, so quiet. Save for the shake of your breaths, coming into a rhythm, forced into tandem as you try to make out Sebastian’s face in the dim. Your pulse thrums in your ears, thumping like a ball in your throat, gushing red-hot anxious blood to your head, already washy and tipsy drunk off of that damned eggnog- The air between you seared, hot tension rising as you come to terms with exactly what just happened, a heavy weight of mortification washing down your shoulders and to your toes, curdling the contents of your stomach into something bubbly-sick. It was as if a kettlebell fell down on your head right as you’d jumped down from high up, a spiking shock running up your legs and down your shoulders, meeting up in the middle. Your hand moves to come off of his bicep, the squeeze of your fingers off from his flesh-

One slender hand moves up, cupping at your ribs as if to stop you, accompanied by a short and startled disapproving hum, rumbled from Sebastian’s throat. You stare at him, he stares back, eyes searching left, right, left, right, flicking and unknowing of where exactly to look- Until he sighs, air punched from his gut before his head drops, carefully landing on your shoulder, face turned into your neck. His piercings barely press a graze to your sensitive skin, poking dully on your pulse, scraping as he speaks right under your ear.

“Sorry.. C-Can..” Your body sparks a shiver. “Can I..?” He asks, such an open-ended question had your brain searching all the ‘what ifs’. You mouth his name with a whisper, a questioning tone pitched up before he hums a long sound from his chest. “I can’t take it anymore- Really.. Fuck- Can I just..” He huffs another breath, a thick swallow following down his throat. His lips graze a trail up, pressed right by your ear as he asks; “Please-” exacerbation and frustration, it oozes off of him, “Tell me I can kiss you- Yoba I can’t...” 

Was this an eggnog induced hallucination? Was your sick pining something mutual? No more clawing through the six feet of thick insecurity to grasp at measly straws or long over the reassurances Sam and Abigail had gifted you? It was your turn to beg a short please of your own before your lips were captured in a desperate lock - All teeth and tongue, clumsy in movement, heads turning to find the perfect fit. Sebastian's hands wander, caressing up and down your sides, to the small of your back, letting them dive further to cup the fat of your ass as his tongue moves to take over your mouth. It swirls lovingly over your own, the ball of his tongue bar rolling and lapping, tastebuds dragging rough against each other, sloppy with spit and tipsiness, each and every breath of his tainted with a moan that cracked its way up his throat. His piercings poke against your lips, kissing them raw with every move of his mouth on your own until he lets your bottom lip thread through his teeth with a needy bite.

He pecks you hard, capturing your lips in a short frenzy before he's back on you again, deep and needy, pulling your body towards his own, soft in comparison to his lean build. You throw your arms around his neck, fingers twirling girlishly into the back of his hair, giving him a sweet tug with every few kisses you give back. His tongue is on you again, lips parting with a groan as he licks into your mouth, the mixed taste of whiskey tainted custard-cream and spiced smoked tobacco swaps with your spit. The air around you thickens, noses huffing against each others cheeks as you try to catch your breath, unwilling to part from the sloppy lock of your lips - Curse the need to breathe, Sebastian pops off with a wet puckered sound, a line of spit still connecting you together. His arms tighten, fingers turning into a claw to grab at you, anything he could get his hands on, his lungs huffed up choked breaths, head shaking in some form of disbelief.

“Fuck.. Yoba-” His lowered voice calls. Your response is barely a squeak before he's on you again, capturing your lips between his in a hot and heavy manner, pulling you into his body, pressing himself against you, the finality of having you in his arms coursing a magma-hot sear through his blood. His knee rests between your legs, an arm caged around your upper back, caressing and rubbing in a feverish frenzy, bundling the fabric of your clothes into desperate fists while the other rubs circles into your hip, tugging right at the waist of your pants. You feel it, the hot pulse of something down below, the strain of his cock pressing up against the seam of his jeans and by proxy, poking against your own body. “I.. Fucken’... Need you.” It’s said between kisses, slurred against your lips, “F’So… Long.. Too fucken’.. Shit-.. Too, mmph.. pussy to say-” That's when you cut him off, a sweet tug to his hair with one hand and a cup to his chin with the other, tippy-toeing your way to press against him, kissing up, chasing his mouth.

“Shh..” You soothe, your own desperation showing as your palms come down to massage his shoulders, caressing up and down his chest over the sheeny smooth fabric of his button down. Your fingers trace against his collar, dipping past the edge of his shirt, already slightly unbuttoned from the top to show off the silver chain of his necklace. Another swear comes from his pierced lips, hands leaving your body for barely a moment for him to tug at the strip of fabric housing the plastic buttons, pulling the poor placket open with a needy tug, losing at least one rounded badge with a snap, the poor little thing landing on the floor with a bounce before it was forgotten completely. His chest was exposed, milky skin bright enough to see in the dim light, sparsely dotted moles dancing over his otherwise clear skin. It's warm against your touch, tacky with the rise of sweet arousal, in the beginning stages of working up a heated sweat.

His hands are back on your body, reaching for the hem of the ‘ugly sweater’ you’d picked out for the night, decorated with kitschy Holiday motifs sewn into the knit. It was one of your last layers you wore to the party that night, a warm and cuddly jumper and scarf left to sit in a neat pile. Off it came with a tug over your head before his bare hands were on your skin, forcing sweet shivers in every spot he touched, sparking like needle pricks with every squeeze and brush. His lips brush into your neck with open mouthed kisses, bites and bruises peppered into your skin- Your nails dig into his shoulder, dragging down his front before your palms flatten, taking in the feeling of his body against your fingertips. “Sebastian~.. Mmnn..” Your head tilts back with a sweet chirpy moan, giving the man all the access he could ever want to your body, thoughts swirling behind your closed eyes, dizzy with the slur of alcohol inebriating your finer thinking ability. Yoba, you didn’t care- Couldn't care less towards the fact.

Sebastian bites against the strap of your bra, the elastic snapping against your shoulder before he mouths at your collar bone, sinking down to the valley of your breasts, bent over to press tender kisses and love bites into the once untouched and hidden skin. You reach back and fumble with the clasp of your bra, picking at the stubborn latch to free your tits, feeling the wet spit of his kisses linger coolly with the huff of his breath.

“Hahh.. Shit..” His voice pipes up again. Kisses come back up, arms wrapping snug around your body to squeeze you into him, tits squishing into his nude chest all soft and pretty, the rougher poke of his necklace making an imprint into your skin. His hands are grabby, arms flexing to hug and pull at you, teeth sinking into your neck, over your collarbones, wet kisses smothered up your jaw to your awaiting lips.

“S-Seb-!” He only groans in response, head nodding as if to say ‘I Know,’ pierced lips dragging into your skin with the movement. Your hands grab his face, cupping his jaw on either side, thumbs caressing in rough swipes, feeling the subtle grain of his shaved face under the pads of them. You grab back at him, palm sliding down his neck, massaging into the bob of his Adam’s apple, against the slope of his shoulder into that tender trap muscle, skin soft with peach fuzz until you move to his chest, feeling the slightest wiry rough of chest hair, barely enough to frame his torso. You rub the expanse of his chest, hands between your pressed bodies, kissing hot and sloppy, tongues swirling, lips fully parting to moan into his mouth as your thumb brushes over his bare nipple, feeling the hard metal of a piercing. It sends a thick course of arousal to your core, throbbing behind the press of your pants. 

You squirm, rubbing your thighs together for a sweet release, anything to feel the sticky heat of friction against your budding arousal- Yoba you don’t have to chase it though. 

It's like he reads your mind, his hand allowing itself to press between your legs, long and dexterous ring-clad fingers pushing against your mound in a caress, palm pressing richly hot pressure against your clit. Your lips part in another moan, eyes rolling softly, allowing your lashes to flutter into a dreamy close, body melting as if you were moulded out of thick molasses. Things were getting hotter - Heavier - Pleasures beginning to spark under fingers and they soothe and caress, as Sebastian’s palm grounds rough at the seam of your pants, fingertips pressing their pads against your clothed fluttering hole. Your lips part from his with a breathy gasp, his name hot on your tongue, barely whispered, those syllables rounded as you suck air into your starving lungs. Yoba, it's all you can say - A mantra of his name over and over with every few seconds, spewing from your lips as if you knew nothing else. 

He breathes your own name back to you, rasped off of his pierced tongue before his kisses are on your throat, nose nuzzling in slow shakes of his head. His hand comes up, swiping the button to your pants with his thumb and forefinger, zipping down the fly enough for him to connect closer - His fingers dip behind your panties, the taught elastic band surely digging into the back of his hand as he glides his digits over your drooly folds. He outwardly groans, another ‘Fuck’ grit through his teeth. You whimper, head leaning into him for comfort, thighs squishing around his teasing hand. Ohhh that was it- The sweet dip of his long middle finger sinking into your wetness, past the weepy ring of your cunt, coated in sweet drool as he dares to curl. You bite into your bottom lip, a long and keened hum following his actions.

“God- Yoba..” He stains, his finger working its magic, curling sweet caresses, a beckoning of ‘come here, come here!’ over and over again. “You’re so.. Fuck- so wet..” He says in bewilderment, tongue running over his kiss-bitten lips, past the metal pierced through them. You nod, an ‘All f’you’ about to drip off of your tongue if it weren't for the grind of his palm sparking a delicious pressure against your clit- Instead you moan, a pathetic affirmation of a noise whining out. One became two, the slip of his ring finger clad with a ring, in fact, easily being stained with the sweet and creamy nectar of your cunt.

Oh, how he works them into you. Cupping your pussy with his lean hand, lengthy fingers rolling sweet curls against the gummy little spot inside of you, giving you his palm to grind back on, lips kissing at the top of your head, huffing an enamoured chuckle each time you clench your squishy thighs against the bone of his wrist and the dig of his bracelets. Yoba, it forces him to be rougher with you, a game to push past the tight trap of your thighs, free himself from the confines all so he could fuck into you. You look up at him, eyes glassy from the abuse of his fingers, pressing right where you needed him. You flutter a blink, bubbles of tears threatening to fall past your bottom lash, doe and unfocused with a pouty bite to your lip.

“Hohhh.. Fuck, that's it.” He holds you into him as your legs go jelly-soft, a hot wash of ditzy dizziness creeping up your knees as his fingers fuck and curl. He stares right at you, brows furrowed in an upward pinch, a tug of a frown born out of hot arousal and focus appearing right at the corner of his lip. Your breaths hitch, rapid, in pace with a sinful hiccup tainting any feeble attempt at speaking-

“Seb.. ast-tian~” It's almost like a warning, sharp with arousal and stuttered in pleasure, breathed inward as you gasp, hands fisting into the fabric of his open button-down like a lifeline.

“Hmmn?” He hums with a nod - Right there. Sebastian was right where you needed him, his fingers mashing into that supple little spot inside of you, that sweet and spongy swell that had your brain all foggy. “What is it, Princess..?” The name alone had you melting further than you thought was possible, your entire body rippling with a sensation that felt as though you were on fire. Your fingers tighten on the fabric of his shirt, chin tilting up in a desperate plea, lip bitten raw and in need of more kisses.

Of course, he obliges, hearing your begs despite the lack of a peep chirped from your throat - Slow and deep - That's how he kisses you. Capturing your lips with a sweet bite of teeth, tongue caressing your own with a loving lick, out of time with the hot and feverish way his fingers fuck your cunt. The juxtaposition only adds to the wobble in your body, coming closer and closer to the very edge, moans drunk up by his lips, swallowed with a happy humming in his throat. One hand comes off of his shirt collar, fingers curling around Sebastian's arm, your soft palm feeling the bump of his wrist bone press into it, greedily pushing him into you while your hips hump back on his digits.

“I..- I’m.!” You can barely formulate your sentences, whipped thicker than cream under his spell, the sinful caress of his fingers beckoning in your cunt.

“Fuckk, Babe.. S’okay- I gotcha’..” Sebastian promises. You cling to him for dear life, your body leaning its weight against him, pushing him further into the wedge of shelves supporting the both of you. You feel it, that spark right at the bottom of your tummy, twisting and turning, firing into ignition as your thighs clench and squirm. So close- So, so close!

Any attempt at a legible sentence is easily cut with a gaspy whimper, crying out as you cream over his knuckles, properly messing up the fabric of your panties with gushy slick, bleeding pat and surely leaving a messy wet spot on your pants. Even with the taut press of your waistband limiting the man’s movements, he doesn't let up, curing those lengthy fingers through the rush of your orgasm, feeling the clenchy release lovingly pulse on his knuckles. He works you through it, eyes wide and enamoured with the way he had you, closer than arm's length, the sole reason for the sweet bliss that rushed through your body - “Shit- That's it.. Thaaat’s it- Fuck.. Look at me.. Look at me-” You obey, fucked out eyes flicking up to his, seeing the wash of arousal pool and swirl behind his dark lashes, his lip bitten bruised as he focuses on you, enamoured. “Feels good? Hmmn?” He nearly begs for reassurance, huffing a relieved laugh when you nod, your body twitching with each sweet pulse.

His lips attack yours, hungry and hot, throat groaning up a delicious noise you couldn’t help but eat up, body on fire with the way his palm rides you through the remnants of your hot burst of arousal. 

“Fuck..” His hand softens its press, fingers giving a last curl before he carefully pulls them from the confines of your pants. They're drenched and sticky, dribbles of arousal sticking to his fingers like a lattice, spider webbing with a sinful drip that had you clenching your thighs once again. It drips over his rings, cream and slick mixing with the precious metal, soaked knuckles curling as his lips part, tongue lapping a lick before they’re suckled into his mouth.

The groan he lets out is near animalistic, needy and punched from the depths of his lungs, his own arousal going painfully unnoticed only pressing harder and stricter against the seam of his jeans. The man murmurs, words raspy-hot on his tongue; “Need more of’ya-”

It felt almost comical to describe the next moments as a blur, but the post-orgasm airiness lingering in your boozed tipsy brain had your perception flicking with a whack of whiplash. Turned from your position, the skin of your naked back now pressing into a collection of forgotten Holiday decorations, a slight itch thanks to the plastic of a faux wreath. Your pants are tugged down, eager fingers hooking into your waistband and stripping you of your bottoms, it's a short fumble, hot and clumsy, the air within the closet turned stuffy with breath and sweet arousal-induced sweat. 

Hands are on you, flat palms squishing into the flesh of your bare thighs, fingers still slick, pressing their pads into the sensitive, rarely caressed skin - Thumbs daring to dig just enough to have you squirming. His lips are next, sharp with the bud of his piercings and the nips of his teeth, daring to suckle a bruising kiss against your inner thigh, piping up a squeak from your throat, another call of his name. You search for Sebastian in the dim, eyes focusing on the milk of his skin reflecting off of the crack of light, his being nestled comfortably between your legs. His dark hair parts with an affectionate caress of your fingers, looping themselves through his locks to pat him. He hums against your flesh, warm on your skin, breath moist with humidity born out of the hot and tacky stick of arousal leaching into the air from your bodies.

He smacks his lips on the skin of your thighs, itching up and up, further into the centre of your heat, nails digging loving crescent marks into your skin with every eager grope. He kisses against your bikini line, right by the taut elastic hugging at your upper leg, hiding away the sweetness of your cunt behind a wall of silky pantie fabric. He nuzzles his nose into the crevice connecting your thigh to torso, the point of it dragging over your clothed cunt with an affectionate press accompanied by a shameless inhale. Sebastian sighs something dreamy, lips peppering kisses that had your breath hitching, right over the mound of your heat - So pretty and accentuated with the tight and taught pull of your panties, outlining the swell of your pussy. Yoba, he swallows thick, gulping down saliva that dared to pool under his pierced tongue. 

Your arousal sticks to his lips, pooling a clear wet spot in your panties, a target for him to kiss at, to tentatively lick at, feeling the slick remnants of your previous orgasm wet on his tongue. He groans- More of that taste on his tongue, eyes heavy as they look up at you, washed over with need. Your fingers twitch, straining against his scalp, tugging his dark strands enough to have him diving right in.

His lips latch to your clothed cunt, impatient to get more of you on his tongue. The soft prick of his lip piercings press a spiky pressure on your sensitive mound, a reminder harsher than the eager lap of his tongue- Yoba.. Fuck- His tongue, strong and flat, licking between your pantie clad folds, adding his own drooly spit to the mess staining the poor fabric. His lips purse against your pussy as he indulges, eyes fluttered shut, thick, dark brows creased into an affectionate scrunch, full of focus.

“O-Ohhh.. Seb… I’m.. I need..” You breathe past the burn of your lungs, panting with jolty huffs each time his lips and tongue brush over the fabric covering the sensitive bud of your clit.

“Hmm.. Mhmmn-” He hums, smacking a harsh kiss before he pulls off, “Need to- Fuck, need my tongue on you. Gotta-” He shakes his head, kissing at his teeth with a ‘tut’ before his thumb dares to leave your thigh, hooking at the fabric of your panties in a motion to pull them aside. He looks to you, a thick gulp down his throat as he watches your head bob- Nod, nod, nod goes your head, almost in desperation to just feel him again, fingers curling in his hair, clenched with arousal and the budding frustration to just make him take you already. Yoba, he was sweet, though, the sentiment of him asking such things, checking in with a silent ask for consent, making your back teeth grit in hot enamourment.

Sebastian takes it, your gifting nod, and eagerly yanks your underwear to the side. His thumb pulls your panties taut, shifted aside to show off the wet glisten of your folds, gushy with your last orgasm, puffy and swollen thanks to the prior abuse of his fingers, good enough to kiss-

Obviously, he does. Planting a wet and obnoxious open-mouthed kiss to your budding clit, lips smacking together before he properly dives into you, selfishly savouring all the sweetly creamed arousal you had for him. You gasp, fingers tightening in the twirls of his hair, surely enough to leave a harsh sting but Yoba- It doesn't seem like he cares. If anything it spurs the man on, a hot groan erupting from his chest, lips parting, the prick of his piercings digging a delicious pressure into your cunt. He’s messy with you, hungry slurps uncaring of the vulgar noise - The sharp and uncomfortable itch of the Holiday wreath biting at your skin was incomparable to the searing hot pleasure ripped from your pussy, stinging with overstimulation, forcing an endless string of whines from your lips.

Your throat hiccups, panting hot swears and the syllables of his name, rounded easily from your lips as he takes to you. It's easy for another orgasm to threaten your body, the feeling eager to roll from your cunt, twisting sweet and stabby like a suckled on candy cane, licked into a pin-thin spike poking at your gut- Especially with the works of Sebastian's tongue, swirly with his movements, tongue fat and flat as the metal ball of his piercing kisses at the bud of your clit in his rhythmic laps. He’s vocal with you, only spurring you on; Sweet hums tainting each breath he sucked in, feeble attempts to get oxygen in his lungs. You’re not sure he cares, not with the hearty mash of his lips against your mound, pursed with a stingy-sweet suckle directed right against your clit, teeth grazing at the supple soft swell of your pussy. 

You can’t help the hot babble, the filthy cry you speak next, steadily rushing to the very edge- Wanting to just take him- Damn any refractory period, you needed to feel the pulsy stab of his length drilling you over the edge. 

“Fuck me- Please- please, please Sebby just- Ahhnn..~” You whine, fingers giving his hair some grace, opting to feverishly pet him, clumsy affection in your fingers as you work them in a soothe. “Want you- Want you so, so bad- Y’know? F’so long-” You don't have to convince him.

He pops off of your cunt- Not without leaving several plants of hot kisses, pecking hotly on your clit before he tugs your panties down. His cock comes free with the jangle of a belt buckle, the leather sliding from his belt loops with a zip, metal buckle daring to clank on the floor before he’s working at the button and zip of his fly. His lips kiss at yours, the taste of your cunt on his tongue, sweetly salty and drenched in arousal, twinged with the last remnants of spicy nicotine and cream-sweet eggnog, swapped with the swirly spitty lap of your tongues mingling together in a hot collide.

It feels like a hot blur, motions moving quickly, Sebastian's arm jutting as he fists his free cock- Weepy dribbly tip all swollen and pink, finally free from the tight seam of his jeans. You squirm, lips clumsy on his own, arousal knocking you into an instinct-driven motion, oh so needy, “Seb..- Please.. Fuck… Fuck me~” You beg, muted between hot kisses, words slurred with the lick of his tongue, cutting you off with his mouth.

You move in tandem, arms throwing themselves around his neck as he grips the squish of your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his lean hip, hooking you into him as he lines himself up. He pops off of your lips enough to breathe, murmuring filthy things against them, coated in hot spit and your sweet arousal; “M’gonna fuck you- Promise, God- Yoba I promise, Princess-” He throws more sweet pet names your way, “Wanted me? Hmm? Wanted- Fuck.. Wanted you f’so long..” He promises. You feel the pudge of his cock press to your cunt, sparking a drooly clench of your drippy hole. He grinds on you, hips rolling, tip weeping as if it were crying, dribbling its milky pre over your puffy clit, pathetically kissing against your folds as his hips rut.

“Fuuuuckkk..” The ring of your cunt hugs his tip, suckling him in as he finally makes an effort to press in, he groans out a moan, matching the supple whine of your throat as you take him. Slow and sweet was something that could surely come later- The pressing itch of desperation easily taking over between you. Heavy rolls turn into needy fucks, hips jutting, pudgy cock tip making love to your cervix, kissing hot and lovingly hard pecks against the sweet mush in the depths of your pussy.

It's easy for his hips to roll into you, the base of his cock pounding against your mound, grinding the wiry curls that decorated him into the sensitive bud of your clit. Plap, plap, plap goes his hips on yours, skin to skin, sticky and sweat sheened, tacky to the touch as your bodies collide. You brace one arm on a shelf behind you, swiping off any stray decorations with a clamouring clutter, mystery items bouncing off into the depths of the closet, rolling on the floor. Your other arm hangs loosely on his neck, doe eyes fucked out and glossed as they look up at him, lips parted sweetly, kiss bitten and spit-shined, captured in a heated tongue and teeth-filled kiss before Sebastian groans. 

“Everythin’ I fucken’ dreamed of-” It's said between gritted teeth, his gaze snapping from your wet eyes to your drooling cunt, huffing an arousal filled chuckled laced up in disbelief, seeing that drooly ring of cream coat over his length, making a mess between yourselves. “So fucking perfect- Fuhhhck m’not gonna last long- Hahh.” You nod in agreement, eyes closing, that bubble of tears falling down your cheeks with a streak. Closer and closer came the tight twist of your next orgasm, your poor and abused pussy clenching loving squeezes on his cock, spurred on with the hot sting of overstimulation- Your thigh cramped, spread over his hip for him, tits bouncing with every thrust, lungs stuck in a sweet burn.

Your skin sweats, lips drool, eyes blink all glossy and dumb, brain firing off every time you have the pleasure of looking at him- Closer, closer - Your clit throbs, hips pathetically humping back into his fucks, chasing the hot high that threatened to gush!

There's sudden laughter, slurred and obnoxious, rasped from an all-too-happy voice. It leaks from beneath the crack in the door, the outside world leaching into your little space, a phantom chill washing over your body as if the door has swung open to the fresh fall of snow that blanketed the street. A crash occurs, a feminine voice scolding someone, furniture scraping against the wood floor of the outside. You hadn't noticed your attention had wandered, not until Sebastian grips your chin, turning you back to lock into another searing kiss-

“Oiii-” A fist bashes against the door, rattling the thing on its hinges. Sebastian’s hand moves, coming between your legs to rub at your poor bud- The fiery thrill of a threat- A burning fear of being caught by a drunken Sam had your body twitching. Sebastian seemed to feel the same, making something of a challenge to get you off before the blonde had the audacity to finally clear the doorway. “Ha- ‘ave you kissed yet?” Yoba knows you’ve done so much more.

Sebastian presses you harder into the shelves, hips snapping rough, filthy words spat into your ears as his hand worked overtime on your poor clit- His hips roll sloppily, breathes coming into a hard and slow pant, huffing in your ear- “Fuck.. M’ Gonna fucken’ cum- Yeah? G-Gonna take it? Hmmn? Look so pretty like this-” he babbles, tone heavy in his throat. “Gonna make it up t’you- Yeah? Promise.. Hnng fuck- P-Promise..” His fucks turn snappy, jut, jut, jutting- Punching at your poor cervix, cunt mashing against the base of his cock.

“Seb- As.. Tian~” You choke, head lulling back with an eye roll, teeth biting into your lips as you finally gush again, wetting his cock with a weepy clench of your pussy, filthily kissing at his length, adding to the wonderful mess between your legs. So sweet and squeezy, your velvety walls massage the length of his cock as you cum, pussy suckling him in, inviting the hot pulse of his own orgasm with a loving hug.

His hips snap in sharp staccatos, throat stuck in a perpetual growl with each lingering fuck as he spurts. He creams into you, hot and ropey filling up the depths of your sweetness, milked off by your squeezing. His sweaty forehead comes to rest in the crook of your neck, fingers holding your thigh up squeezing a grab, a stingy dig of his nails leaving desperate crescent marks behind. He rasps a drawn-out groan, nosing into the tacky, sweaty skin of your neck, mouthy kisses back on your shoulder, just adding to the bitey kiss marks he’d left on you already.

You jolt when another knock rasps against the door, sloppy and full, thunks formed by a fist connecting to the wood. “Alright, you guys, you've definitely been in there long-e-fucking-nough." Sam’s voice calls with a snort, a failed attempt at stifling his laughter. “Don’ make me open this door~” He sings.

the fields are a mess. weeds have taken over some of my pumpkins, making me curse the shit out of them as i carefully remove them, spending hours on my knees in the mud. once it gets dark, i run back inside, barely escaping the rain that starts chasing me. i murmur a grumpy greeting to sebastian, who was already in his pyjamas and on the couch, setting up a movie for us to watch. the blankets are carefully arranged around him, uncovering the very spot on his body where i usually slide onto his lap to cuddle while we relax before sleep.

i hurry into the bathroom, shouting i’ll only be a few minutes, i really need a hot shower. he responds with his signature chuckle, having already found a movie for us to ignore while we make out or fall asleep.

the shower relaxes my muscles, soothes my skin, washes out all the dirt from my hair and face. i walk out a new person, fresh and clean and ready to sink into our soft couch, wrapped into a cocoon of blankets. a new person – that forgot her clean underwear and pyjamas in the bedroom.

okay so maybe not completely new. still the same scatterbrained me that sebastian always promises he fell in love with so ridiculously hard and fast it’s a miracle his bones aren’t still broken.

so, with my fresh and clean body wrapped in a bath towel, i pad my way to the bedroom, passing between the tv and sebastian where he’s still sitting in the very same position on the couch, the blankets uncovering my seat. those silly frog pyjamas on, slightly pushed down as his hand is placed around his hard cock that he’s gently stroking. i walk into the bedroom and–

oh …

with a slightly embarrassed expression, i retrace my steps until i’m closer to him.

“baby…” i drawl, my eyes falling down to where his thumb slowly rubs over his cock head, so sweetly like he’s caressing a lover.

“yes, froggy?” oh there’s a layer of smugness in that voice. he knows what he’s doing to me, sees my throat bobbing while i swallow saliva gathering at an alarming rate.

“baby why… you’re not even waiting for me?” reluctantly, i lift my gaze to meet his pretty eyes, noticing the self-satisfied smirk as he watches me struggle.

my hand grips the edges of the towel tighter, holding on for dear life as i try not to immediately look down at his cock again, that pretty, girthy thing just begging to be kissed.

“i’ve been sitting like this since before you walked back in, pretty. you just didn’t notice me.” that thumb rubbing over his tip slides back down and he keeps stroking himself up and down. my heartbeat quickens, the air becomes thicker, my mouth is suddenly too empty. all i can think about right now is licking a long strip along his shaft and making him moan out loud. “c’mere,” he pats his lap, the pattern of cartoon frogs on the fabric covering his thighs almost making the situation comical, if it weren’t for his deliciously spread thighs and the outline of his balls under the bunched up material under his cock.

it takes me a couple of seconds to remember how to move my feet. walking is harder now than it was just a minute ago when i took quick, fleeting steps towards our bedroom.

i leave slightly damp footprints, my skin is still wet from the shower, but i drop the towel that was keeping me covered up as soon as i reach his legs. the fluffy blue fabric pools on the floor and i sink to my knees. his hand doesn’t slow down its movements on his pretty cock, but i boldly lean in and lick a slow stripe to his tip, feeling him twitch ever so slightly on my tongue.

the taste of his skin lingers on the tip of my tongue as he pulls his cock up a little, allowing me to grab the bunched up fabric and pull down those pyjama bottoms, freeing his balls that i quickly take into my warm mouth, one by one. his knee bounces then, at the same time as the back of his head meets the back of the couch.

sebastian lets out a pretty moan as i gently suck on one testicle while holding the other in my hand, tenderly caressing it while keeping my eyes on his bobbing throat. letting out a little hum i snap his attention back to me. back to how my tongue swirls over him. he releases his cock, letting me take over. carefully, lovingly, i hold it in the same way he did, leaning forward a little to press a gentle kiss to the head before sliding it between my lips, inside the warmth that is my mouth, a wet pretty hole for him to savor the feeling of.

“fuuuuck, you’re gonna be good for me, yeah?” i look up at him as he speaks, my eyes wide and doe-like, the way i know drives him insane.

i briefly nod, of course i’ll be good for him , and sink him deeper into my warm mouth, down to my limit. his hips buck upwards a little, having me nearly swallow him whole. obediently, i remove my hand from his shaft and place both my palms onto his thighs.

i take one more breath before his hands caress my wet hair, holding onto it firmly with those long, slender fingers.

“ready?” his voice is ragged already, the need is practically dripping from his every word. i nod in reply, letting him take the lead.

my throat relaxes just in time, for he starts moving me along his cock, using my sweet mouth as a toy while my lips close around his girth.

drool collects at the corners of my lips, and he keeps going, slipping curses and praises alike between his bitten lips, telling me just how beautiful he finds me as i’m swallowing his needy cock. sebastian looks as if he’s ascending, like he’s touching heaven through the pearly gates of my teeth.

my eyes stay peeled, watching as his eyelids flutter shut, dragging out long curses while he picks up the pace, now lifting his hips in time with moving my head. the back of my throat is already sore, but i hang on, letting him use me to his full pleasure, giving him my face to fuck whenever he wants it.

“pretty… ah pretty girl… i’m– ohhh i’m gonna cum, okay?”

a pathetic little whimper leaves my lips, pools around the base of his cock as he asks my permission, as always. it’s always a yes, or a little whining noise, always an imperative that i taste his sticky cum on my tongue and drink it like it’s the elixir of life. 

his grip tightens in my hair, the movements of his hips get more erratic as he reaches his peak, spilling his release into my mouth, making my throat constrict as i swallow around his thick cock head. sebastian’s voice is raspy, broken as he exhales, groaning lowly. he twitches while my mouth takes in everything he gives me.

sebastian gently caresses the top of my head, breathing heavily as he comes down from the intense high, lowering his eyes to meet mine as he grins.

“there we go,” his breathless voice comes out soft, loving, “so good for me, so good .”

slowly, i lift my head, letting his pink tip pop out from my pouty lips with a soft sound. it’s all slick with my saliva, shining under the lights of our living room. i press a gentle kiss to it, smirking as he twitches and gasps from such soft contact.

my towel stays on the floor as sebastian pulls me up into his lap. my legs slot beside him, straddling his bare hips as i lean down to kiss him. it’s impossible to stifle the giggle that leaves me when he smacks my ass, jiggling the flesh with his strong palm. he helps me, lifting my hips to let me sit on his pretty cock, still hard as he enters me, making me throw my head back and groan.

he joins me, cursing under his breath as i sink down onto him again, the familiar stretch never getting old. 

“fuuuck, pretty, that’s it,” he drawls, holding me by the waist as i settle, “that’s my good girl. can’t just give you one load, can it?” his head snaps back to look at me as i trail my hands up his torso and under the pyjama top.

“been feeling needy, hmm?” i tease, a smirk painted on my face as he beckons me with a quick motion of his chin.

“you’ve no idea, froggy… i nearly started without you.” with that confession he reaches my lips, capturing them in a hard kiss as his hips buck upwards into me. 

i whine, rolling my hips against sebastian’s as his hands grip me tighter, pulling me against him harder and rougher than before. needily, he wraps those arms around me, bringing me closer and fucking into me faster. he pulls moan after moan from my throat, letting me breathe only to bite delicious bruises into my collar bones.

my breasts bounce against him, grazing his skin with my nipples with each hard thrust of his sweet tip against my soft walls. it’s almost unfair how quickly he has me unraveling, shaking, and stuttering right here on his lap as he relentlessly moves.

“ ah– fuck, i’m gonna–” i attempt, gasping as he bruises me, leaning lower to take my nipple into his mouth and hum around it. 

“ mmm come on, pretty, i’ve got you.” he murmurs, vibrating my sensitive nub and sending me over the line. my warm walls contract, i shake and i whimper as he moans, switching to the other breast, biting the plump flesh and continuing his quick thrusts. “good girl, there we go,” he releases my breast from his mouth, kissing where he bit earlier, “you can give me another, yeah? one more… just one more.” sebastian doesn’t wait for me to come down from my high, he pulls me down against him more desperately, so wanting as my weeping cunt swallows him over and over as he grunts into my chest. 

relentlessly, he pulls me by the hips faster, overstimulating me to high heavens as his cock prods at my sweet spots with every move. yoba, i always forget how good it feels, no matter how many times we do this. especially when he gets like this, insanely horny like we haven't fucked in a month.

i don't know whether to curse or praise his high sex drive when he flips me over onto my back, immediately climbing over me to push my knees almost up to my chest. 

the cushion seams of the couch dig into my back, but i can't pay attention to them, to anything that isn't sebastian. like in a daze, he leans over me and kisses me tenderly while pushing his thick cock into me again. different angle, getting so much deeper as he kneels on the couch. i moan directly into his mouth and the sound almost invigorates him.

he thrusts into me with the energy of a hundred shots of espresso, desperate to feel my warm, soft walls close up around him, tightening like a vice to keep him inside and drain him of all his pent up energy. 

the lewd sound gets louder with each passing second, skin against skin, his balls against the plump flesh of my ass. it’s so loud, so hypnotizing, rhythmic beat paired with heavy breaths from sebastian’s lips and whiny curses falling from my mouth.

already getting overstimulated, having been pushed into the next high from the first one, i’m whimpering under his touch. he presses his fingertips into my skin, leaving little indents as he holds on for dear life, anchoring himself in me as if he’s not actively punishing my sweet spot with his relentless cock head. 

eyes rolling back, head dipping into the pillow, i shake. gripping his arms pressed into the cushions beside my head, i squirm, my whines get higher in pitch as he curses, leaning in to drag his sweet lips against mine.

“fuck… fuck , pretty i’m gonna– you gonna cum with me?” his syrupy voice drips onto my tongue as i moan, grabbing at his back to pull him closer, pressing him against the backs of my thighs as his hips falter.

a few more rough thrusts against my soaked pussy and he’s done, groaning when my cunt pulls him in, keeps him inside where he’s warm and welcome. holding him tightly to ensure every drop of his release is contained inside me, where it should be. 

our breaths soften, heartbeats slow down, our foreheads connect. his lips start looking for mine, desperate for tender kisses while i lower my shaking legs, feet finally finding purchase around his waist. i hold him close, gently, carefully. sebastian melts on top of me, finally spent as his energy fizzles out.

“longest… week… ever…” he mumbles, lazily kissing me as my legs keep him still, keep him inside me warm and snug.

“never going a week without sex again…” i agree, weakly returning kiss after kiss, gliding my foot over his hips, down to his mid-thighs where his sloppily pulled down froggy pyjama bottoms sit. 

the screen changes and i catch it from the corner of my eye. we’ve completely ignored the film sebastian put on earlier and now the screen is darkened with a passive aggressive message in the center, are you still watching?

sebastian snorts, turning his head away from the screen and resting against me.

“i ain’t watching shit unless it’s my wife’s tits bouncing, thanks, nutflix.” he murmurs, a smug half-smile stretching his lips as he checks for my reaction.

“you need sleep,” i giggle weakly, feeling his weight on my chest, “you’re talking nonsense again.”

“shhhh,” his finger finds its way to my lips, resting on them as his breathing slows, “love you too, froggy.”

i chuckle, resting my eyes as we settle down. “love you baby.”

Ever since you and Sebastian hooked up that night he walked in on you wearing only his hoodie, you were seeking one another out any chance you could.

This evening, you met up with Seb for a smoke break. One thing led to another, and now you’re sneaking down to his room while he distracts Robin.

It’s not that you’re ashamed of each other, you just aren’t ready to deal with the gossip from this tiny town. Plus, you’re both kind of enjoying being the other’s secret. Sneaking flirty looks and touches while hanging at the saloon. Convinced that no one has noticed Sebastian walking you home more frequently. Or the fact that more often than not you’re together.

When the path is clear, you slip through the entryway and down the stairs.

“Anyway I’ve got a deadline so I should get to work,” Seb says, a little too loudly to be inconspicuous.

He joins you in the stairwell and with mock chivalry, ushers you into his room. As soon as the door clicks shut, the darkness and secrecy work their magic. Sebastian pins you against the door, pressing hungry kisses to you neck.

He grabs your breast through your shirt causing you to let out a soft moan. Seb is quick to capture the sound with his mouth, not because he thinks anyone will hear you, but because he feels the need to claim it. Your moans, your lips, your tongue. All his.

Seb reaches up under your shirt, long fingers lightly skating up your spine causing you to shiver slightly. His hand reaches its destination and with practiced ease he unhooks your bra.

Sebastian pulls back to look at you. So pretty with your flushed face and heaving chest as you stare up at him, trying to catch your breath.

“So needy aren’t you?” Seb tuts. His cool smirk betrayed by the lust in his eyes.

And with that, you take control. Pushing him down onto the couch, you slip off your shirt and bra.

Seeing your body on display for him, Seb lets out a long appreciative whistle.

“Now that’s my girl,” he says grinning.

You straddle him and his hands find your hips, squeezing your curves, before moving up to cup your tits.

“Fuck, I’ve missed these,” Seb says in a low voice, as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You moan softly, a hand finding its way into his dark hair. Your light tug on his locks causes Seb to groan.

In retaliation, he teases you with his teeth. Lightly biting at your sensitive nipple while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. Your whimper is music to his ears, and his cock responds immediately.

It takes you no time to notice the hardening bulge beneath you. You grind down onto him hard. Seb releases your breasts, his hands snapping to your hips, to grip your flesh. He lets out a hiss.

“Woah, woah baby. We’re just getting started,”Seb chuckles.

You pout cutely at his teasing. Fuck you’re adorable, he thinks pulling you in for a deep, sweet kiss. You’re having none of it. You trail your lips along his jawline, leaving kisses down his throat.

Now it’s Seb moaning and pushing your hips down so he can grind your body against his aching cock. You don’t relent, slowly moving up to his ear you tease the sensitive flesh with your teeth and tongue.

When you decide he’s had enough you whisper softly, “I want to taste you.”

Seb groans as his hips jerk up into you involuntarily. His grip on your soft flesh tightens and he pulls you in for a devastating kiss. All teeth and tongue, as though this kiss is the only thing tethering him to the earth.

You pull away reluctantly, sliding off of his lap to stand before him. Seb leans back, relaxing into the couch with a cool smirk playing on his lips. Can’t wait to wipe that look off his face, you think. Because fuck, you love watching him come undone.

Sinking down to your knees, Seb lets out a sigh. God, you look so pretty on your knees for him, his cock twitches at just the sight of you.

You lean forward, lightly trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Seb’s muscles tense in anticipation the closer you get to his hard cock, fully straining against to confines of his jeans. You trace the outline of his member, squeezing once just to hear him groan.

Glancing up at Seb’s face, you can see that cool look has already been replaced with desparte want. Smiling, you pop the button on his pants and pull down the zipper teasingly slow.

Seb lifts his hips, which prompts you to ease off his pants and boxers.

His cock springs up, the cool air dancing across his hard length causes Seb to let out a light hiss.

The sight of it has you drooling and you feel the want throbbing in your core. You decide to tease Seb just a bit longer to draw out those cute sounds of frustration before giving him what he wants.

You place feather light kisses up one thigh, nails barely tickling the other. You nip at his hipbone and kissing it hard, you leave a mark for Sebastian to find later.

Reaching to finally wrap your hand around his cock—

“Oh he’s got a ‘deadline’? Suuuuure.” A voice loudly carries down the stairwell as heavy steps begin their descent.

“Ughh,” Seb groans hearing the sounds. Realization of the situation dawns an instant later.

“SHIT!” He whispers looking down at the scene. You on your knees, tits out and hand millimeters away from his painfully hard cock. Your panicked eyes are huge, as you sit frozen, unsure of what to do.

Shit shit shit, Seb thinks trying to come up with a solution as the steps draw nearer.

“Under the desk!” he whispers urgently.

With your shirt and bra halfway across the room and no time to retrieve them, you scramble for the desk.

Seb is frantically gathering his pants and boxers when the knob begins to turn.

He slips into the desk chair just as Sam bursts through the door.

“Seb! There you are, your mom said you had a deadline so I won’t be long,” Sam says jovially flopping himself down onto the couch. If it was still warm from being so hastily vacated, Sam doesn’t seem to notice.

“Uh yeah man, now’s really not a good time,” Seb says, glancing down at you with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be out of your hair in a sec,” Sam says, moving to lay on the couch like he’s settling in for a long therapy session with Sebastian his de facto councilor.

Running a hand through his dark hair, Seb sighs, “What’s up dude?”

Maybe if I hear him out he’ll leave faster.

“It’s Abby man, she’s totally harshing the vibes at practice lately. Like she won’t just play the song through, she always has to improvise and……..”

~*~ meanwhile under the desk ~*~

Ugh whatever, you think rolling your eyes. Here you are, cramped under a desk, horny as hell and staring right at the object of your desire but you can’t do anything about it.

It feels like Seb’s cock is teasing you, it’s still mouthwateringly hard and it even has a little bead of precum right on the tip. You crave to lean forward, grab his cock and lick that precum off.

But you shouldn’t…… right? Why not? It sounds to you like Sam is so involved in his own thoughts he wouldn’t even noticed if Seb was a little distracted. Maybe that’s just horny brain talking, but it sounds like the best idea you’ve had in awhile.

Gently, you pull Seb’s knees apart more and shift to sit between them.

He shoots a panicked gaze down to you, a light flush rising on his cheeks. You put a finger to your lips, the classic ‘shush’ gesture. Seb blinks, looking from you to Sam and back to you, unsure what to do.

He’s cute looking all worried, you think, I bet he’ll look even cuter trying to keep it together.

You don’t dwell on his predicament, you have your own needs. Grabbing the rolling chair you gently pull him closer, barely registering the sound of his hands slamming down on the desk or the sound of Sam’s voicing pausing momentarily.

Running your hands up Seb’s legs, you feel him quiver and hear the timbre of his voice waiver slightly.

Oh this is going to be fun, you think with a grin….

~*~ meanwhile above the desk ~*~

Seb is doing his best to keep it together. Not that Sam is paying him much attention anyway, content to just talk at him without needing much response beyond “no way man” or “yeah that sucks”.

But when Seb feels your teasing fingers finally reach their destination, it takes everything in him not to moan.

His grip on the arms of his chair turns white-knuckled as you lightly wrap your hand around his cock. And when your tongue flicks against his head, Seb is seeing stars. He accidentally lets out a moan that he tries to cover with a feigned coughing fit.

“Uh, you good bro?” Sam asking, sitting up on his elbows to try and see his friend over the large monitors.

“Yeah, yeah,” Seb coughs out, thankful for your stilled hand, “I just uh, swallowed wrong.”

“Okay, well anyway….” Sam says, and he’s back off on his tangent. About what, Sebastian isn’t really sure. His only focus is your mouth, which by now is wrapped around his sensitive head.

Instead of taking any more of his length, you seem content to gently lick and suck on his head as though his cock were your favorite flavor of lollipop. If you don’t put more of him in your mouth soon, Seb is sure he’ll snap.

Thankfully you begin to move, ever so slowly bobbing up and down his length.

“Ahhhhhh…” Seb sighs, contentedly.

Taking that as a sigh of understanding, Sam says, “Okay see! You know I’m right!”

“Mmmmm mhm,” Seb hums. Not sure what he’s agreeing to, but not caring.

He looks down at you, and fuck what a mistake that is. Seeing how well you take his cock in that pretty mouth is almost his undoing. Seb leans back to look at the ceiling. As he releases a steadying breath he hears Sam say, “So you’ll do it then? You’ll tell Abigail that she’s out of the band?”

“Wait, what the fuck?” Seb snaps. “Sam is that what you’ve been talking about?”

Moving so he can look at his friend around the monitors, he hisses slightly as his cock, now wet with your saliva is hit by cool air once more. As much as he wants to get off, he won’t let his friend make a mistake as colossal as this.

“Uh, yeah man. You’ve literally been agreeing with me this whole time.” Sam says, confusion clouding his face, “Haven’t you been paying any attention?”

“Obviously not,” Seb retorts, face flushing a bit, “Because if I had been I would’ve told you that you’re being stupid. Abby is the best, and only, drummer in town. Stop being such a dick, and just let her do her thing.”

“But it’s my band—“ Sam starts.

“Nah dude, it’s our band.” Seb states, “Now will you please get the fuck out?”

Sam finally peels himself off the couch. Holding up his hands he backs toward the door.

“Geez man, okay I’ll get out of your hair,” he says. Turning toward the door, Sam pauses. He spots a black lacy bra that has been carelessly left on the floor.

Sam whirls around, “Oh, hi y/n,” he says, laughing as Seb’s mouth falls open.

Turning he heads out the door. As he leaves he calls over his shoulder, “Have fun you crazy kids!”

With Sam’s footsteps receding into the distance, you burst out laughing.

Seb rolls backward in the chair to see you better. You’re crouched on the floor, holding your sides laughing your ass off.

“Oh, so you think it’s funny, huh?” He says, his face is serious but there’s a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

All you can do it nod, laughing so hard a few tears form in the corners of your eyes.

While you’re busy laughing, Seb is clearing items from the surface of the desk. As much as he’d love to do the dramatic thing and sweep everything onto the floor, he paid a lot for that mechanical keyboard. When he’s satisfied it’s clear enough for his purposes, he helps you up.

Catching your breath from laughing so hard you don’t notice the wicked grin on his face until it’s too late. He spins you around and pushes you down so your chest is flush with the cool surface.

His roughness makes you gasp, and Seb chuckles. He tears off your pants and underwear. With your pussy and ass on display for him Seb wastes no time dipping a finger into your dripping wet core.

“Tsk tsk tsk” he tuts at you. “Looks like you get off on being a little tease, darling.”

Sebastian removes his finger, you moan wiggling your ass playfully. He is having none of it. He slaps your ass, and you let out a small yelp of surprise.

“That’s for being such a tease when Sam was here,” Seb says in a rough, low voice.

He slaps your ass again, this time causing you to groan.

“That’s for being so needy that you couldn’t wait to taste my cock.”

Then with no warning Seb pushes two fingers into you.

“And that’s for getting so wet from the whole thing.”

You arch your back moaning loudly, the mix of dirty talk and his long fingers moving inside you has you seeing stars.

“Getting all hot and bothered just from sucking my cock, with our friend sitting feet away?” he teases, easily adding a third finger into your dripping cunt. “I didn’t know you were such a dirty girl.”

Seb removes his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. Kissing up your spine, he leans over you. You can feel his erection rubbing between your wet folds. Sebastian lips trail up your neck, breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “You might want to hold on baby.”

Before you can register what he said, Seb is slamming his entire length into you. You grasp the edge of the desk, and cry out from the shock. Sebastian slaps your ass.

“You can be loud but not quite that loud,” Seb huffs, pulling out almost all the way and pushing fully back into you. You bury your face in your arm to muffle the cries as he slaps your ass again.

“Fuck so pretty—taking me so well,” he groans between thrusts.

And it’s true, Seb loves watching your ass jiggle and as his length disappears inside of you. He drives his cock into you over and over again, your walls clenching him tighter and tighter.

“Shit just like that,” Seb praises, “Cum for me, baby.”

As you orgasm, you call out for him. His name falling from your lips is Seb’s undoing. Hips stuttering, his thrusts get sloppy. Sebastian shoves his length deep into you, pushing himself over the edge. Groaning your name, Seb empties into you.

A sheen of sweat covers you both, and Seb lays over you resting his head on your back.

“Wow, you’re perfect,” He sighs, blowing cool air down your spine. You shiver, the chill feeling divine against your heated skin.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” You reply breathlessly.

“Oh man, remember when Sam was here,” Seb chuckles roughly.

“Uggghhh I can’t believe I did that,” you groan, covering your face with your hands.

Kissing your lower back, Seb mutters, “Seems my girl has a little exhibitionist in her.”

Before you can talk back, Seb pulls out of you with a hiss. Your whine at the emptiness causes him to chuckle roughly.

“Always my needy girl,” he teases pressing a kiss to your lower back, “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

You’re not sure you could move if you tried. Seb returns with a cool cloth and kneels behind you. He gently cleans you up, kissing your thighs and ass as he does.

“Mmmmm thanks Sebby,” you yawn, trying to push up off the desk.

“Woah woah, take it easy,” Seb chuckles as he helps you up and into his bed.

You fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow leaving Sebastian to watch you sleep.

Moving a piece of hair out of your face, he gently strokes your cheek.

“Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town,” he whispers shaking his head. “How did I get so lucky.”

i shook my head, waving as he did a thumbs-up with both his hands before turning and starting towards the bar. sebastian stayed. i looked around to locate abigail, but she was excitedly talking to some people from the neighbouring village. i got on my tiptoes again, getting closer to sebastian so i didn’t have to shout too much.

“your set was really good.” i was so close i could smell his cologne mixed with sweat. his head dipped lower, reaching my shoulder with his warm breath as he spoke.

“thanks, hope it wasn’t our last.”

just as i was about to chuckle and respond saying it was just the beginning, that the goblin destroyer were just beginning their ride to glory, i felt his hand snake around my waist. he held me, a little taken aback, but mostly just blushing with how forward it was for his usual self. different. kind of like the way he swayed me with him, kind of to the rhythm of the current song. 

“seb…” i didn’t say it loud enough for him to hear, too caught by surprise to be louder as my hips moved with his, slightly shifting so he stood behind me. his fingers were splayed over my hips and i swear i could feel the warmth of his hand even through my jeans.

sebastian’s chin rested against my temple and his other hand found its way to my other hip, now holding me against him a little firmer, with a little more confidence.

i cursed when the song ended, expecting him to release me, but his hands stayed put.

as the applause roared around us and the band on stage prepared to do another song, sebastian’s breath tickled my ear and i could hear him better.

“wanna come over later?”

“o-over?” i cursed at myself, realising what he had meant only after i’d already asked.

“yeah, to my place.”

my heart was beating through my throat, thumping relentlessly as i swallowed.“oh come on,” sebastian let out a chuckle against the side of my head, “did i imagine you eye-fucking me while i was on the stage?”

my heart sped up, i didn’t think i’d been that obvious, though i could hardly remember anything from their set that wasn’t the way sebastian had flicked his hair out of the way, the shape of his focused brows…

and the movement of his hands on the keyboard, the slender, deft digits caressing the keys with skill and passion–

“well?” his hands tightened on my hips, pulling me against him a liiittle tighter, it was almost embarrassing how much i enjoyed feeling him harden against my ass.

“when later?” my breath caught in my throat and i felt his chest move as he laughed.

“impatient?”

“let’s go now” i turned around, spinning out of his hold and facing him, my blushing face be damned.

i must have caught him off guard, being so eager, but damn it he was right. i had been staring at him the entire night. the entire season, actually. ever since i had first spoken to him.

without another word he pulled me towards the exit, where he’d parked the motorbike. before i’d thought it was a little pretentious of him to forgo taking the bus with the rest of us, but now i was grateful for it. i just hoped sam wouldn’t freak out when he discovered us gone…

the ride was quick and refreshing, after the stupid heat at the venue i welcomed the whipping wind with a grin on my face. i could hardly control my movements as sebastian parked and brought the bike into his garage, fumbling with the keys as he let us in. soon enough we were dashing down the stairs to his bedroom.

i wasn’t unfamiliar with his bedroom, having visited quite a few times now. I’d brought him random minerals i had found at the mines, i’d come over to play solarion chronicles, or just to hang out on the couch and read his comics while he worked. but now i saw it in a different light, or lack thereof.

in full, promising darkness, i could hardly make out the shape of his bed when he spun me around and pressed me against the door. his lips parted mine and i let him press me between the hardwood door and his warm body, the heat pulsing between us was made nearly unbearable.

so it was no surprise that sebastian reached down to the hem of my top, quickly sliding it up and off my body over my raised arms, barely breaking that searing kiss.

i’d have been perfectly happy staying against the door, had he not spun me around and dragged me to the bed. as i sat down on the edge, searching for a safe path blindly, he reached to the side and turned on the bedside lamp. it cast a gentle glow onto both our faces, helping me in the mission of getting him out of that hoodie. now topless, he crawled over me and i lay on my back on top of the slightly crumpled sheets. 

the pillow my head rested on smelled of him and i briefly imagined what it would be like waking up on that same pillow to the sight of his sleeping face. the face whose gaze was currently hungrily devouring my entire form, wondering where he was going to start unwrapping what was left of my clothes.

suddenly, those same deft fingers i had watched dance along the keys on stage were on my jeans, unbuttoning them and untying the flannel shirt that was tied around my waist. lifting my hips, i helped out by shimmying out of the offending clothes before i undid his jeans, tugging on them so he would hurry up.

i didn’t want to wait anymore, but his pace was teasing. it was building tension so high i could hardly fit more of it into my throat before having to let out an impatient huff. he caught the sound of it and smirked, yoba it was a sinful curve that made me tug on his jeans harder.

sebastian’s hand knocked my fingers off his jeans paired with a click of his tongue. he was dead set on doing it himself, torturing me with his slow movements. finally, he was left only in his boxers, having slid off his jeans along with his shoes and mine. there was a little wet patch on his boxers, right where his leaking tip pressed against them, achingly hard, constricted, and begging for air. 

he caught me looking down his chest, stomach, that little patch of dark hair trailing underneath the waistband of his boxers, and finally settling my gaze on the perfect outline of his cock. i smirked ever so slightly, entertained by the show of neediness in his boxers. sebastian only scoffed, grabbing my knee and moving it to the side to spread my legs wider.

“you’re no better, you know?” he teased, lowering his head to ghost his lips over mine while the hand not holding my leg trailed up my inner thigh, settling on the wet patch of my own. right on the sweet little panties i had innocently picked out after stepping out of the shower today, ready to go see my friends’ first ever gig.

poor past me had no idea those same panties would be rubbed in this way hours later, that they’d be pushed between my already wet folds by sebastian’s slender finger as he got them wetter, gliding up and down to collect my slick on them.

the way sebastian trailed that finger up and down my wet slit made for gently stimulation, coaxing slow, drawn out moans from my lips only to be caught in his mouth as he brought them down to kiss me again. he swallowed every single needy sound, fueling them more and more as he pressed a little firmer against my clothed clit.

i reached up into his hair, tangling my fingers into those strands that he had always flicked away from his eyes, always fussed with despite the fact that they were obviously covering his face on purpose. 

his hand tightened its grip on my leg when i tugged on his hair, his breath vibrated in my mouth. this is it, i thought, this is how i break you.

almost as if he sensed my feeling of victory over his composure, he pulled away from the kiss and stopped rubbing my pussy to wipe the string of saliva that connected our lips. his self-control didn’t last long, for he immediately continued kissing, only not my lips, leaving them to let out small gasps and huffs of pleasure while i was still holding onto his hair and making myself believe i was guiding him at all.

sebastian’s lips grazed my skin as he trailed them down to my breasts, slowly taking my bra off by sliding his hands under my back to unbuckle it surprisingly skillfully. one nipple soon found its way into his mouth, being warmed by his breath and toyed with his tongue, while the other was under gentle care of his thumb and index finger. 

the way he played my body like his damn instrument had me lifting my hips up, searching for any kind of friction, anything to help me relieve some of the pressure building in my abdomen. it was thrumming, loud and violent in my body, but he took his damn time. this is it, i thought, this is how you break me.

it seemed to amuse him greatly, my blatant want and inability to get satisfied quickly. he let out deep chuckles against my nipple, popping it out of his lips with a wet sound before he could continue down my body over the tingling skin, leaving fiery patches as he kissed and bit my flesh.

both his hands were finally on my body, holding my hips down and preventing me from bucking them upwards, though not for lack of trying. i struggled against his grip, desperate for more while he seemingly found immense enjoyment in watching me unravel on his bed.

i kept tugging on his hair, kept making him gasp against my warming skin while he made his way to where he would inevitably stop just to piss me off. those eyes lifted and stared right into my soul, looked at my pitiful expression, lips parted, eyes glossy, skin so flushed. leaving one last kiss right under my navel, he had some mercy on me.

his lips parted and pressed against my clothed pussy, his tongue ran up and down my already wet garment, slicking it with his saliva more, sucking against it and humming to vibrate my needy skin. still, he wouldn’t let me lift my hips, still he held me down against the bed, prolonging my efforts at grinding my cunt on his face.

“s-so meaaaan” i whined out, tugging on his hair to try and pull him closer against me, curling my toes in frustration.

“you haven’t seen mean yet,” he vibrated the air between his wet lips and my unfortunately clothed pussy, “i can be worse.”

the smirk he wore got me groaning in frustration, but it clearly wouldn’t help me get what i wanted. he wanted to play dirty, to have me on edge until i pleaded for him, to reduce me to a puddle that he could lap up with that warm tongue.

“but you’re right, it’s not fair.” sebastian’s fingers hooked under my panties and he slid them down. i was so damn relieved that my breathing got faster, i moaned at the very feeling of air on my wet folds that he dove right into.

parting them with his tongue, he pressed it flat against my clit, gently licking up and down and releasing my hips. as soon as his hands left my body i lifted myself off the bed, grinding up into his face, tugging his hair, whining, moaning, cursing. it was the sweet release that i’d been waiting for.

somehow, he let me use his mouth, he willingly went along with my movements, at the same time taking his boxers off. now he was matching the pace of my hips against his face with the movement of his own hips against the bed.

suddenly, just as my whimpers got louder, as my fingers pulled on his hair tighter, he closed his mouth around my pulsating clit and sucked harder. that simple action coaxed a pretty whine from my pouty lips as i came, thighs shaking around his head, pressing together dangerously as he let me squeeze his face with them. using his tongue, sebastian led me through the orgasm, lapping up all my juices carefully, making sure not to spill anything.

fuck, the wet noises of his mouth mixed with the moans from my mouth caused my head to spin. i could just lie there like that for the next few hours, had i not wanted to feel him inside of me. he was the same, for with another, almost gentle, kiss to my pussy he crawled over to kiss me on the mouth, slipping his tongue to glide against mine, letting me taste myself on his lips.

i pulled him closer, drinking in the mix of his saliva and my juices, pulling his entire body against mine and wrapping a leg around his waist, grinding up to feel his hardened cock grind against my sopping cunt.

“i’m feelin’ mean again” he whispered against my lips, breathing into them before once again kissing hungrily, “wasn’t done making you beg.”

in response i whined and pulled his body closer, desperately trying to grab onto him to not let him pull away and torture me again. sebastian chuckled, lifting his torso up despite the nails that i dragged down his back, and settled between my thighs once again. instead of keeping the distance from me, he spread my legs again, holding them apart as he got closer, resting his cock between my folds.

he started to move, grazing my clit with the underside of his shaft, making me lift my hips with every thrust, but in vain, as i got no friction from it. this time it wasn’t just my noises that filled the room.

despite his own initiative to keep the teasing up, to not actually give me any relief, he was moaning as well. he let out a little whimper, instantly scrunching his face in embarrassment, probably hoping i hadn’t heard it. oh, but i heard it.

and it spurred me on to lift my hips higher.

“fuck, this wasn’t supposed t–”

“wha– what, your little p-plan not working, hm?” i teased him, finally donning a smirk on my face as he looked like it was getting harder keeping himself from just fucking me like he meant it.

“brat” he huffed out, releasing one of my legs to lead his hard cock to my entrance, gently poking into it.

sebastian hissed as his tip entered me, drawing a higher pitched moan out of me. instantly, the bastard pulled out, leaving me empty and wanting.

“looks like i’ve got a few more tricks, huh?” he was way too happy with himself, teasing my dripping cunt by only putting his damn pretty tip in and taking it out, smearing it with my wetness, spreading it down to his shaft.

“you’re sooo–”

“say please.” he interrupted me. cutting off my attempt at insulting him.

i closed my mouth, furrowing my brow as he pressed his tip against me again.

“say please and i’ll stop pulling out.”

it was a no-brainer, but my proud mind could hardly just accept the defeat. i wanted to make him fold, but here i was, spread out, teased, desperate for him to stuff me full and fuck me like i’d never felt it before.

“h-huh?” playing dumb only made him roll his eyes and bring his hand down onto my clit, gently tapping it as if making sure i was aware of my naked state.

“don’t you huh me, say please,” he rubbed my clit so slowly it was almost painful, “or the tip is all you get.”

i gritted my teeth and took a deep breath before swallowing my defiance and in my best, sweetest voice pleaded with him.

“pleeease?”

“please what?” damn bastard wanted me to beg and grovel, his smirk kept growing, kept getting more annoying, yet so damn attractive.

“please, sebastian, fuck me… properly, ‘wanna feel you all inside me, wanna… wanna cum on your dick, please.”

my pouting must have worked, because he leaned down to kiss my pout before spreading my thighs again, looking down at the needy blushed cunt spread open before him, and pushed inside me again.

he groaned and it was the most magnificent sound i’d heard. his hips bucked ever so slightly against me, but he didn’t go much further inside. barely more than the blasted tip again. once i started whining, he brought his hand down on my clit again.

“i said i wouldn’t pull out, didn’t i? damn impatient brat.” he clicked his tongue, though under all that bravado he was still trying to keep it together, his eyes betrayed it. “keep those legs open for me.”

i obeyed him, keeping my thighs comfortably open so he could keep moving between them.

once he stopped breathing so deeply, his hips moved slightly forward, giving me a little more, but not quite what i wanted. before i could let out a whine, he let a drop of saliva roll off his tongue and land on my clit. it made me hiss, but he ignored me, instead rolling my pulsating clit under his thumb.

he played me like his damn keyboard, making me sing exactly how he wanted, whimpering under his touch while he kept his tip inside me.

gently, slowly, he slid in a little deeper, making me curse and in turn getting my clit played with a little harder. sebastian let out a slow hum, as if savouring the feeling of my cunt contracting around him, squeezing him in to keep his cock inside, sucking it in, needing it.

“so damn…” he shook his head, finally meeting my eyes as he held my hips with those elegant fingers, “tight, fuck how…” with another hum he slightly pulled away, but still keeping his tip inside, as he promised.

doesn’t mean i was happy with it. my hand sought out his, so i gripped his wrist, keeping myself grounded in the moment. after a few moments he slid deeper inside again. yoba, i felt every damn vein on him, i felt it drag inside me, teasing me with that gorgeous texture. my back arched into the air. the sight excited him so much he had to slide in deeper and give me more. more, once again.

the bastard then pulled back, waited until i gave him a dissatisfied whine, and then slid fully into me.

i threw my head back on his pillow, moaning out into the dimly lit room, trying to get used to having all of him inside me. sebastian’s head dipped down low, he held me in shaky hands for a few moments until he could get enough of a grip to start moving. it was something almost sacred, the way his cock hit all my sweet spots so well. his balls slapped against my ass with light taps until he decided to speed up, his teasing be damned.

“a-ah l-like tha-at” i held onto his wrist with one hand, tightening the grip, and onto the headboard above me with the other. i sure hoped it was sturdy enough, because he kept going faster, harder. thrusting into me with heavy grunts and an occasional whimper as my body arched, getting the angle just right, getting it to make stars dance behind my closed eyelids. his voice behind my eyes looked like bright fireworks, moaning, grunting, whispering fuuck, so pretty, so sweet, filling the air with lewd noises.

“yoba, ‘m not gonna… not gonna last that lon– oh fuck…” with a voice like he was on the edge of an orgasm already, sebastian slipped nonsense between those parted lips.

only fuelling my moans further, he grabbed me tightly, wrapped his arms around my waist, and lifted my hips off the bed. oh, that was sending me into another dimension. he kept sliding in and out, so freely now as he let himself stop being so damn mean and stuffed me full, gliding in and out of my slippery cunt.

as sebastian’s thrusts lost their constant rhythm, the moans from his lips increased, now reducing him to a mess as he held me up, using me like his personal toy to ruin, using me to extinguish the fire in his abdomen and mine. i felt my thighs shake. the whines and curses from my mouth grew higher in pitch, so fucking needy for him, tightening around him, sucking him into myself.

“a-are you gonna…” i tried to enunciate, tried to speak in a normal tone, but it was pathetic.

“y-yeah i’m… are you?”

“m-mhmmmm”

feeling my lip quiver, i grabbed the sheets under me. sebastian lifted me a little higher, speeding up once again, building up a pace he could hold as he thrust inside me. but out of the blue, i cried out, gripping the sheets tightly to hold onto something solid as i tightened around him and came, shivering while he kept pumping in and out of me.

now he was cursing louder. whimpers came in between grunts, a few more rough thrusts before he groaned loudly, throwing his head back as he slowed down while emptying himself inside me. he rode out that high with his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly moving my body that was nearly limp in his hands, filling me up with his cum as it shot into me.

gently, sebastian lowered my hips back onto the bed, slowly pulling out of me. he looked at the spot where we had been connected just a minute ago, his release now slowly trickling out of it. the view must have been hypnotic, he kept looking for a few long minutes, catching his breath while my limp body lay there exhausted.

warmth was spreading into me again, from my core to my fingertips. i closed my eyes for a second. the second lasted longer than planned, since as i opened my eyes, sebastian was standing next to the bed with a wet cloth, reaching down to clean me up with gentle touches. i looked into his focused face, seeing none of that mean smirk he had worn before he let himself enjoy me. i guess in a way we broke each other.

i groaned as he moved my legs, feeling gummy under his touch. chuckling, he dropped the used cloth next to the bed and crawled carefully over me. his warm arm brought me closer, rolling me into his chest as he dragged the covers from under me and over both of us. my cheek gently rested against his chest as he turned the lamp off, once again sinking us into darkness. this time the dark felt softer, all tension from it seemed to have disappeared while his hand rubbed my back in slow circles.

“so…” i started, feeling a sly grin curling my lips, “round two?”

he snorted in laughter, coughing before sighing in disbelief.

“you’re outta your damn mind.” he paused before pressing an uncharacteristically tender kiss to the top of my head. “at least give me five minutes…”