𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔯𝔟𝔰

I watch the muscles in his back tremble with each step, his body not quite ready to be awake. I also can’t help but eye the ripples in his thighs and backside with every step he takes. I suppose that’s what happens when you train every part of your body the way I presume he does. His muscles were mostly concealed under a layer of thick dark body hair on his chest, and some thinner on his back but it was barely noticeable with my blurry vision and the distance he had created. 

What I could see, however, was the hubris oozing off of him. He had me in every way he had desired last night. There was no modesty or humility in that walk of his. That was a saunter. 

The bathroom door clicks closed and I sit up a bit, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. My pinkie finger finds my cornea, wiping some sleepy sand  away before I pick up my rounded golden glasses from the nightstand.

I ran my fingers through my hair, immediately wishing there wasn’t a rugged military vet in my bathroom so I could wash the product out of it. The curl creams, gel and hairspray helped my curls from becoming mop of untamable russet vines that were molded together. His hands and mine had been in my hair last night, not to mention the immense frizz that resulted from sleeping. The ringlets needed a refresh, but it would have to wait. 

I hear the water begin to run in the bathroom, he would probably end up using my toiletries, but I suppose that would be fine. Not like I had any choice anyway; he certainly made himself comfortable.

I walk over to the closet and pull on a capri length robe made of cotton with lace on the trim. I then tie the string around my waist. It was light weight but concealed my modesty. Not that there was much modesty to be had with this stranger in my home, but I desired it all the same. 

I twist my mop up into a bun, and gingerly make my way to the kitchen. I must have slept well, because the moment my feet hit the wooden floor of the hallway, I felt prickles, as though my feet were not quite ready to work yet.

The coffee maker starts up with a couple button presses. I liked just basic boring coffee with some milk and sugar or creamer I had in the fridge. I wasn’t sure how Captain would like his coffee, so I just pulled a mug down for him from the cabinet. 

Hot breath leaves me as I hold the mug just below my nose, sitting at my kitchen table. The time hadn’t occurred to me until I heard a ring at my door. My immediate reaction was twofold. Ignore it, and who would come knocking so early?? 

That’s when I finally looked at the clock I had mounted on my living room wall. It was brown with intentionally-tarnished brass detailing.  It was almost 10:40 a.m. Damn, we must have been up later than I thought. Last I knew was when I looked at the clock and it was past 11. Surely it wasn’t much longer than that? 

I sigh when the doorbell rings a second time, and I stand up. My mug clinks down onto the wooden table before I made sure my robe was securely tied around my waist.

I peep through the spy hole before seeing the bright and beaming  face of my new and very young stepmother. Stephanie was only 5 years my senior, but she was trying her best to be a good mother. A friend at the very least, but she was good to my baby sisters, so that’s all that really mattered to me. They deserved to have someone to help guide them through their teen years. 

“Steph.” I greet once I had unlocked the door. 

“Hey! Do you have some room for any of this stuff?” Stephanie held up about three bags from various stores.

The plastic and paper crinkled as she struggled to balance them in her hands while also holding a couple of teas for us. There was a local shop down the street that had tea, coffee, rolls and buns. 

“Of course.” I step over to her and help take the gifts.

The holidays were coming up and Stephanie liked to hide the girls’ gifts here so that they couldn’t peek. Emma, the elder of the two, was always the leader in the snooping schemes. She knew all of my hiding spots, so I never had any issue with Steph hiding them here. The girls, Emma and our youngest sister Noel,  don’t come to my place that often anyway. Not unless Steph brings them. Emma insists once dad buys her a car, she will drive over with Noel more often but I would never expect that of her. 

I helped Steph put the gifts into the coat cupboard. I didn’t even keep most of my coats in it, as those were situated on the hat stand by the door.  It just had some shoes for stepping out to get my mail and my winter gear such as mittens, hats, and my heavier jackets. Steph took note that I wasn’t dressed yet, “I’m sorry if I intruded.” She hands me the tea she’d gotten for me. 

“Don’t worry about it, I just had a late night.” 

“A late night grading papers or a late night with Darling?” Steph grins cheekily to me. I have spent a lot of time with Darling these days. 

“The latter, I suppose.” Do I tell her I hooked up with someone who I wasn’t even out to meet? Absolutely not. We weren’t there yet in our relationship, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be too keen on telling my new stepmother about a man entirely inappropriate for me; the grizzly who’d eaten me like I was the honey at the bottom of his honey pot. Why on Earth would I even consider talking to her about that?

“I can understand that. Maybe save the date for me then? I’d like to have a girl’s day with you. Maybe get our nails done or something. On me.” 

On me. That meant my dad’s credit card. Part of me wanted to dent his pocketbook for all the nonsense I endured under that man. Get a full salon experience from facial to pedicure. The larger part of me, however, wanted to be independent and not have him pay for my shit, even if it was just getting my nails done. I momentarily swallowed my ego. 

“Sure.” That was all I could get out, knowing I would fight her later on paying. 

Steph beamed at the fact I was even open to going and hanging out with her. I admire that she really is trying to be a friend. She knows this is a delicate situation and that pretending to parent me would be asinine. 

Steph was just about to speak when the bathroom door creaked open, Captain stepping out with my crisp beige towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. I swear I could see the curls of his pubes from across the room. His body glistening from the humidity in the bathroom, even though he’s already dried off. 

His head tilted a small degree when he saw me speaking to Steph. His voice was level and calm as he spoke, “my apologies, I didn’t know Birdie had a friend over.”

Stephanie, however, was gawking at the man who had emerged from the washroom. As if she weren’t married to my father!

“No-! I mean- It’s totally fine, I was on my way out anyway.” Steph interrupted him, her eyes shamelessly checking out my fling from the night prior. Hair from head to toe concealing his body which had just the perfect body fat to muscle ratio. Even I found myself distracted seeing him in the brighter light.

Steph reminded me of Darling sometimes. I can’t help but notice that she didn’t make any attempt to correct him for not being my friend. 

Captain walked to us, “Pleasure to meet you,” He said with a casual, albeit charming melody in his voice.

“Steph.” She shook his hand. She looked at him for a moment and I couldn’t tell if she had racing thoughts or zero thoughts. It looked like she had put a puzzle together in her mind while also being so taken with the being before us that she couldn’t actually string any words or thoughts together. 

 “Ahem-” I interject, despite wanting to melt into the carpet and disappear. “Would you mind getting dressed?” I ask sheepishly. 

He smirks, knowing damn well what he was doing, “as you wish, Birdie. Nice to meet you, Steph.” He walked back to the bedroom. 

“Phoebe.” 

“I know.” I say, despite the scarlet coloring to my cheeks. 

“Late night with Darling?” Steph teased, amused by how embarrassed I was. 

“Well…” I was at a loss of defenses. There were some harsh things I could have said, but I knew she meant no harm. 

“What’s his name?” She asked curiously as she sipped her tea. 

I stand there at a loss for words at the moment, only wanting this humiliation to end already. The only way this could have been worse is if my father or sisters came with Steph today. “Don’t-” I begin to plead with her not to air out my dirty laundry. 

I pause, the crimson on my cheeks morphing into a deeper maroon, “I don’t know.”

“Phoebe Cross” Steph gasped out with a playful motion to clutch her imaginary pearls. “How scandalous.” 

“Ah, I won't. Swear, it’s not anyone’s  business anyway. I understand. I’ll go so you can enjoy.” She gives me a hug before she adjusts the Mulberry bag on her shoulder. 

“See ya later~” She leaves the apartment, my tea still steaming in the cup in my hand. I close the door behind her and rest my forehead on the junction of the frame and edge of the door. Fuck. 

Captain’s voice brought me out of my recovery, his pants and underwear on his body, his shirt in his hand. 

“She seems nice.” 

I turn to look at him, “She tries to be.” 

“Aren’t you friends?” His voice was laced with curiosity. 

“Not exactly. She’s my step-mom.” 

He made a very poor attempt to hide his surprise. “Oh…” 

“Yeah.” I could just feel the questions he had. Did she look young for her age, or was she actually young? 

“I could have sworn she was a friend or cousin or something.” 

“No, my dad just remarried a few years ago. She tries her best, but things are still awkward for me.” 

John nods in understanding and walks over to me. His rough hands find my shoulders and one slides down my arm until my hand is engulfed in his. “I can understand that. Do you want to talk about it?” He kindly offers, his baby blue eyes sweet as he looks into my amber ones. 

“Not particularly. She was just bringing over my sisters’ holiday gifts.” I shrug just a touch as he guides me away from the door. I didn’t exactly feel like detailing all of my family trauma to this man.

 “I see. Would you like some breakfast?” He asks as he steps into the kitchen. 

“I can make something-” 

“No I’ve got it, you just relax. I’m sure this morning has been stressful enough for you.” Captain opened the cabinet and looked for anything he could use to make me some food. 

I sit at the table and look through to the kitchen, my hands clasped around the paper container my tea was in. “You’re welcome to make tea or coffee.” I say quietly. John begins to make me some breakfast. He nods to the coffee cup already steaming. The one I’d made before Steph came by. I much preferred tea, but sometimes the late night papers required something stronger to keep the words from blending together.  “You can have that one if you’d like.” 

He picks up the mug and slips back into the kitchen to continue making breakfast. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” He didn’t even look up as he made this observation. My fingers instinctively find the golden rim of my rounded glasses. “Oh, yeah. I can’t see shit without them.” He chuckled smoothly as he put some eggs into a pan. 

“So you didn’t see anything last night?” 

“I had my contacts in.” I didn’t remember removing them; I must have done it in the middle of the night. Then again, the whole thing was so mundane I didn’t always recall if I took them out or not. Since I couldn’t see this morning, I assume I did. 

I watched him for a moment, “I’ll go put them in.” 

“No need,” he stops me with his words alone, “I like your glasses. They look good on you. You look good this morning.” 

Good? I had like third day curls that were caked together with mousse and gel, twisted together into a knot atop my head. My makeup was most decidedly smudged under my eyes, and I know I probably looked exhausted. How could I possibly look good? I didn’t question him though, as despite my personal opinion on how I probably looked, he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he seemed to enjoy seeing my more natural and haphazard appearance. 

“Thank you.” I say with a half-forced smile. He just gives a silent nod in return. Something about this entire domestic encounter made me unnaturally comforted. Like all of the embarrassment and stress from Steph’s impromptu visit had melted off my body and floated away from my mind. At the same time, I felt some trepidation in this encounter. I was comfortable, but I knew I probably shouldn’t be. This was so very not normal. 

Once our food was done cooking, he brought over two plated meals of fried eggs and toast.. He’d managed to make a decent breakfast with the minimal food I had laying around; today was grocery day. 

“Thank you again.” I say softly before beginning to eat my meal. 

“You’re welcome, it’s the least I could do for embarrassing you today.” Captain began eating his food as well, his eyes meeting mine for a moment. 

“Oh, you didn’t.. It was more so the situation as a whole. You know, some guy nearly naked in my flat with my far-too-young stepmom in the foyer. It was not ideal.” 

“I can imagine that. Still, I’m sorry.” 

“You’re very polite.” I note, sipping on my tea. At least Stephanie got my favorite tea. 

“Well-” I correct myself pretty quickly, “when you want to be.” 

He laughed a little bit, thinking about our rendezvous last night. “Touché.” 

I take a moment to enjoy this, as I’d never brought a man back to my flat and had him stay long enough to shower, make me breakfast, and shower me with compliments. Though, I suppose this was the difference between hooking up with a boy with the emotional maturity of a critter and a man who, by all known accounts, has seen his fair share of life to know how to treat a woman. 

At least that’s what I assume. It was still curious to me how he was single, especially with his talents from last night. I realize while I’m eating that I know very little about the man at my table. This was just supposed to be a hookup. But something deep within me was both cautious and curious about why it felt different. Why he felt so familiar and comfortable and yet so foreign and new. 

Besides all of this, it wasn’t like this was a common occurrence for me. Darling had to really push me to do this and to be selfish for a night. Once we were both done eating, I picked up the plates and took them to the counter top. While I’m washing the dishes, he disappears into the bedroom again. I assume he’s making sure he has all of his stuff. 

Captain returns to the room and I look at him. “Heading out?”

 He nods just a little, “suppose so.” He walked over to me, his eyes sparkling just like every time I looked into them. 

I smile just a little, “thank you again, for breakfast and everything.” 

“No need to thank me, I enjoyed it, Birdie.” He says in a low tone before he presses a kiss to my cheek. It wasn’t a deeply romantic gesture like some grand goodbye kiss. But it was sweet; a token of his appreciation and a sign that he had, in fact, enjoyed himself. He was too charming for his own good. Even for a know-it-all oaf of a man.

A lighter shade of the scarlet blush from before spread across my cheeks. Captain gave me that goofy smile of his, “I’ll see you around.” he said calmly before he walked out the door. The second the door had clicked closed I let out a heavy sigh. I didn’t want, nor need, a boyfriend, but there was something magnetic about that man. 

No. Stop it, Phoebe. I curse myself for even daring to think like that. Don’t be that girl that hopes for a life-long romance after one night. 

You don’t even know him, be practical. I shake the thought from my head. I don’t need a romance, I needed to get fucked. And that’s exactly what I did. Nothing more. He was just kind enough to use some of my soap and make me breakfast. That is it. Be practical. 

I walk to the bedroom to get myself cleaned up, but the second my feet cross the threshold of my bedroom door, I see it. 

That damn black beanie lying neatly on the pillow he had used last night, and a beige napkin from the bar lying on top of it. I sigh and walk over, picking up the napkin and running my thumb across the dried ink on it. 

Captain- 

So tonight, I had a dream where my friend and I were called "old world" witches and we had been captured by this family. The main woman looked familiar but I didn't know her well. (I could place maybe 4 women I've seen that look similar but not her exact face). She was leading the whole thing.

She went on to torture and hurt me in the dream. At some point a guy came around my side and told me I was bleeding too much and that they had to keep going if I wanted to survive. They needed us alive for whatever reason.

The woman got close to my face and told me I "escape" her too often and that this time I couldn't bail out. I couldn't leave this world until she was finished with me and that too long I've avoided the inevitable by "waking up". That shook me because it felt so meta and like she was aware I was 1. Not in the waking world we live in and 2. I frequently pull myself out of dreams.

My friend had disassociated and I was screaming. Then I hear her suddenly speaking backwards or something and the only way I can describe it is being possessed by the ancestors. I start floating and roaring full "Conjuring" style, but then throw up a white smoke and all these spirits surround us. People from women dressed in old world clothes to warriors or healers or something. But they helped us defeat this family.

We wrote what happened in a journal and made a spell that only the best of our "kind" would find it and read what happened here. My friend turns into a cat and runs off, I dive into the river with the book and kind of transcend my body. I watch the book wash up on some shoreline and a little girl picks it up and starts reading it. Then I woke up.

I'm open to interpretation from logical commentary on where my waking life is, to shifting, to the dreamworld, to spirits. I just wanna know what y'all think

A soft sigh.

A labored breath.

A stifled groan caught in his throat. 

Simon lied on the metal cot, doing his damndest to prevent it from creaking despite his motions. His hand ran up and down his cock, savoring any bit of privacy he could find.

And you? You were watching. The thick, heavy fabric of the curtain separating your ‘rooms’ within the safehouse gently pressed against your index finger. The curtain was barely open, just enough for one of your eyes to peer in and see what was happening behind it. 

Johnny had sustained a knee injury during this mission. The safehouse had been converted to a makeshift field clinic. They were awaiting a contact meeting anyway. The hope was that his injury wasn’t so bad, and that sending a few medics in to take care of it would clear him to continue the mission by the time the contact meeting happened. 

That was unlikely based on what you saw. 

They set up some curtains between the temporary cots they had, allowing privacy, albeit minimal. You and Simon had many stolen glances and intense eye contact every time you spoke. You couldn’t deny the tension you thought existed between you. You’d do just about anything to one day be in Simon’s arms, holding him, maybe even bouncing on his cock- 

Focus

So, when you were checking in on Johnny’s wound, and heard a very faint noise from down the row, you thought you’d check it out. 

It was at the end of the row, in the corner. Simon requested the most privacy, to which everyone agreed. He had two walls of concrete in the corner, and two thick curtained ‘walls’. 

Curtains did nothing to hide what he was doing. He didn’t make many noises, almost silent save for some labored breaths you picked up. The noise you’d heard initially was a soft creak repeatedly from his cot. Once, then twice, the third and fourth rhythm before silence was what caused you to investigate in the first place.  What your eyes found in the dark was Simon on his back, slightly propped up by his backpack under his head. His mask was still on, despite being alone. You figured it was so he could pack up and leave in less than a minute if needed.

His hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking it with a slight tremor in his hand. The longer you watched, you’d realized this wasn’t boredom. This was an emergency. He needed to get it out, and it simply couldn’t wait any longer. 

Your eyes strain to get a glimpse of his cock, his large hand and the angle of his cot from where you were concealing more than you’d like. Despite that, you kept watching. 

You feel your pulse quicken under the collar of your jacket, your cheeks flushed. You were holding your breath mostly, taking only soft nasal breaths when you needed it. 

God 

What you wouldn’t do to be on top of that man. Taking his trembling hand off his cock while you take over for him. To be the one to make him cum all over himself. You were there to take care of the guys after all… that definition could be extrapolated, in your opinion. 

Your free hand was pressed to your stomach to stabilize yourself, knowing exactly what you’d do the moment you got alone. Your pussy throbbing in your panties, your thighs pressed together for any pressure, though you didn’t dare move and risk exposing your actions. 

Simon adjusted a little bit, his breath trembling, chewing on the inside of his cheek to keep as silent as possible. Your gaze was intense, examining his cock, his hand, listening for every stifled sound he might make… 

Your focus was locked on him. 

He’s close. You can tell by the urgency. 

Just a little more…. You pull the curtain just a touch more to get a better view. 

…..

“What’re ya doin’, Bird?” 

That thick, rough voice sliced through your focus like a knife in butter. Crimson painted your entire face when his paw clasped on your shoulder. You turn quickly, seeing Captain Price’s stern eyes looking rather displeased with your actions. Simon, of course, heard this, thinking Price was talking to him, quickly cursed under his breath, tucking his throbbing cock away. His poor cock leaking precum into his boxers now. 

“I-” you start, and in that moment Simon realized you were there too. “Use your words, y/n.” 

That voice, damn that fucking voice.

When you continue to stand there in stunned silence, John peels back the curtain to see what exactly had you peeping into Simon’s only privacy for. 

He saw the man hurriedly buttoning up his pants again, a low rumble emanating from his own chest. 

“I see.” 

“Captain, I wasn’t… l… I was just making sure he was alright-” God, you just wanted to melt into the concrete and vanish from this situation. 

You look between Simon and John; Simon slowly walking over. “You know it’s rude to be a peepen’ tom.” John’s voice always elicited a reaction out of you, especially when he drops down an octave, allowing his chest to rumble with every syllable. 

That fucking voice of his shoots right down to your core, making your poor pussy weep more than it already had been. 

Simon had a million things he could say, but he stayed silent. That’s about when John’s attention turned to him, despite keeping his firm grip clasped on your shoulder. 

“And what on Earth were you thinkin’? Doin’ that here? You’re smarter than that, Lieutenant.” 

Silence filled the air. Simon had no good answer. It was a good question, and Simon had no answer for it. He knew it was unorthodox, especially with the lack of privacy. But your arrival proved difficult for Simon, so he was only getting it out of his system. Simon had the most self control normally, however when it came to you… he was weak. 

John leaned down to your ear, his breath ghosting around your flesh, “does watchin’ people get you off? Or is it just Simon?” 

Your breath catches in your chest, no words leaving your lips.

 He chuckled darkly, “you filthy little thing.” He glances up toward Simon, “you want ‘im?” Simon stares at the two of you. It was unlike John to be this bold, but perhaps Simon wasn’t the only one pent up after your arrival. 

Your face was blazing in humiliation. You’d not only been caught, but now he was reading you like an open fucking book. You nod only a little, not knowing what else to do. 

Looks like our Bird needs to learn a few things.” 

Bird. The name they all had for you, since you always got flown in whenever one of them was hurt. You come and go, never really in one place. 

You couldn’t see it, but you could be sure a hesitant yet elated smile paints across Simon’s face under his mask. He just grunts softly. Price was playing the both of you like a fiddle. 

Being the Captain, John had the most private space, which was typically meant for meetings and whatnot, but there was the same shitty cot in the corner. He leads the both of you to the makeshift room, in a different area entirely from the drapes used for the rest of the team. 

You felt as though you had no choice, not that you would say no if either had asked. They knew you well enough to know how vocal you were. They knew you’d be kicking up your heels and being very firm if you didn’t actually want this. It didn’t need to be said, they just knew. 

You step into the less than luxurious room. It was shotty, livable at best. Once you go in and John closes the door. You knew poor Simon had been edged when you were busted, and he was probably just in it for a good blowjob or something. 

But then you see it. 

The gaze they both had on you, their eyes held a primal hunger you hadn’t quite seen until now. This whole time you were here to help Johnny recover… 

…they were hunting you. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Particularly John, who’d been bidding his time and chastising himself for having immoral thoughts about a subordinate. It was unprofessional at best. 

“Strip.” John said firmly, leaving no room for argument. 

You hesitate, your mind connecting to what was happening. Simon steps forward, “did he fuckin’ stutter?” 

That was the first thing Simon said tonight, and suddenly you were reminded exactly what you were watching him do only moments prior. You didn’t want a reputation of a Barraks Bunny, but fuck. 

You’d be damned if you had the opportunity to get railed by both John and Simon and didn’t take it. Your fingers gingerly find the front of your uniform, one button at a time loosening it while watching them yourself. Their eyes graze over your body as their own become more and more visible to you. It wasn’t more than a moment later you find yourself sandwiched between them, their clothes rough on your skin. 

Your eyes flick up the moment you felt John grabbing your chin.

He takes a beat, admiring your face with a silence that was utterly deafening. 

Then, he rumbles into your ear, “you’re not going to touch him, understood?” 

Your eyes widen, but so do Simon’s. John’s eyes lift from your face and look at his. There was something unspoken between the men; they knew something you weren’t privy to. 

“You like peepin’ at L.T. so much?” 

It was a rhetorical question… you did and you all knew it. You bite down on your lip, anxiety filling you as you melt under John’s intense gaze, Simon staring you down from behind as well. 

“You’re gonna get your wish, little Bird. You’re going to get on that bed and watch him.” You open your mouth to speak, but John’s grip on your chin tightens, “did I say you could speak? You want’a act like a little voyeur, you’re goin’ to be treated like one.” 

John, the ever dominating presence in the room looks at Simon, “and you,” his tone was a bit less seductive, more irritated; as though what he was about to say was to also humiliate and teach Simon a lesson of his own. 

This poor man just wanted to get off in what little privacy he had, and you got him and yourself in this very unique situation with a side of John you’d not yet seen before. You couldn’t deny it though… John’s dominance and the way Simon seemed to falter, even slightly, at his orders was just as arousing to you as when John was talking down to you. 

“You’re goin’ sit in that fuckin’ chair, and finish the job. Do what you have to do, but do not touch her. Our slut needs to sit in her own discomfort.”

Our slut?? 

Dear lord, this was going to be hell and you were giddy about it; you really should not be as excited as you were. Watching the growing tension between John and Simon’s gazes. It wasn’t a sexual tension, it was a silent battle for dominance and control; John was winning. He stood tall, and Simon, despite being such a large man, let out a sound you could swear was akin to a muffled whimper before he dragged the chair from your Captain’s desk over, sitting near the end of the bed, his legs spread. 

You gingerly climb onto John’s cot, while John reaches toward his backpack of his gear. He glances over his shoulder to Simon, “Get to work. She’s waitin’.” 

Simon clears his throat a bit in discomfort before he unzips his pants, pulling out his cock, still mostly hard. You swallow, unable to contain your thoughts as you notice how red it looked from being still hard and roughly stuffed into his boxers when he realized he’d been caught. 

John tosses a small packet to Simon’s feet, the man leaning down. It was a pouch of lubricant. Simon picked it up, bringing the corner to his teeth and tearing the package open. By the time the lube was on his throbbing cock, your legs were spread, watching him jack off once more.  

Simon’s eyes were glued to your pussy, your fingers finding it, Simon using it as his own porn. You’d both thought you’d be masturbating to one another. 

The second your finger tips find your aching clit, however, you see John approach and tsks quietly. 

“You don’t get to touch yourself, you little slut. You wanted to watch Simon, so you’re going to watch Simon, not play with your pussy.” 

You whimper softly, “but-” 

“No. Do I make myself clear?” 

You gingerly pull your fingers away from your clit, only to see John had been digging in his backpack for some zip tie handcuffs. He grabs your shoulder, making you sit up as he sits behind you, testing the endurance of the shitty cot you were both on.

You lean back, settling against John’s clothed chest, wishing you could feel his skin on yours. John seemed to be the most self-controlled of the three of you, but you couldn’t deny just how hard his cock was in his pants. 

John’s breath in your ear, his bead tickling your shoulder as he reaches around you and slips your hands into the loops, tightening the cuffs. “Put your hands behind my head.” 

You shutter at the low growl in your ear, before you raise your arms, your fingers in his hair at the back of his head, the cuffs resting on the back of his neck. His head on your shoulder, breathing in your ear heavily. 

He and you both look at Simon, who was jerking off full force now, his grip tight around his cock as he tugs at it fiercely. He wasn’t trying as hard to keep silent now, amused at the state you were in and only spurred on more by your denied whimpers. 

John’s fingers find your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index fingers, whispering into your ear about what a filthy whore you were for getting off on this, and how pathetic both you and Simon were, whimpering for each other. 

Simon couldn’t quite hear this next bit, but he could tell by how crimson your face had turned and the soft gasps that left your lips when John pinched down on your nipples as he whispered that it got you going. 

“Next time you want your pathetic pussy played with, you come to me, understand?” 

You whimper, gasping softly, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment, “Yes, Captain, please…” 

“Use your words, little Bird, please what?” 

“Please touch my pussy-” 

He tutts again, Simon groans as he jerks a bit faster. 

“No, you don’t get your pussy played with this time. That’s what happens when you intrude on your Lieutenant.” 

You whimper in frustration as John releases one of your nipples to grab your jaw and makes you look right at Simon, “watch.” 

Simon lets out a deep groan as he finally finishes, his cum splurting in sloppily aimed ropes onto the floor. 

“You’re dismissed.” He says firmly to Simon. The man slumps in his chair for a moment to breathe before he hesitates.

“Are you fuckin’-” 

“Now.” 

Simon didn’t argue this time, grumbling while he tucked himself into his pants once more and left John’s room. He didn’t even spare a glance back, obeying like the good war dog he was. 

John pulls a blade from his belt, bringing your hands back in front of you; you hadn't realized how tightly you were gripping his hair. He slides the blade between the zip tie and your flesh, cutting them with one swift motion. “Get dressed.” He said firmly, his eyes trained on you. 

You shakily get up, unable to deny how slick your pussy and thighs were and how fucking horny you were now. You pull your clothes on bit by bit. 

Before you leave too, you feel John’s firm hand slap across your ass. 

“Don’t disappoint me again, Bird.” 

You gasp, shuttering a bit at his words. 

John would be too intimidating to me, and despite joking about older men, I think in practice our age gap would make me uncomfortable. Boy, oh boy, would be tempted though. Solid choice, not right for me though.

Simon, being the big guy in a mask would intimidate me as well, but more in a fearful way. Current me knows that he probably means well, but the intense staring would really put me off.

While I would be most attracted to Johnny (let's be real, I'm a slut for that man), I agree he would be far too handsy and very forward in this context. I would end up stuttering over my words and making a fool of myself out of both flattery and anxiety.