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#and i want to know what would happen (if i surrender to the sound)
violent-darkness · 2 days
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Stress Relief
Billy Butcher x You
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Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, angst.
Summary: You struggle with your feelings for Butcher while he grapples with his own demons. The stress from trying to take down Homelander is weighing heavily on his shoulders. You desperately try to help him and ease his tension one way or another. Despite Butcher’s reluctance, you are determined to break through his defenses.
The obnoxious ringing echoed across the empty office space and startled you. You peeked at your phone screen: “Come to our bar now, some hot men are buying us drinks.” You chuckled. Back in the day, these types of texts from your bff would get you up and going in an instant. But lately, things have been a little different. You glanced at Butcher’s empty desk and let out a deep sigh. The made-up excuse was always work, but the truth was that ever since your drunk make-out session with him a few months ago, you didn’t really want anyone else. If only he were of the same opinion. The following day he gave you a whole speech about how it was a mistake and you deserved better. He’d been acting like nothing happened ever since. Although you regularly caught him staring at you, when he thought you weren’t watching, his gaze lingering with an intensity that made your heart race.
Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the man himself. Billy Butcher stormed in, his hurried footsteps pounding like a war drum. The sound reverberated through the empty office. He slammed the door behind him so hard that it almost came off its hinges.
You bit your lip, trying to gauge his mood. He barely seemed to notice your presence and headed straight to his desk. Grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cabinet, he gulped down several large swigs. He was panting heavily, eyes filled with rage. 
“Billy…” you uttered. This was the first time he actually looked at you. His gaze softened, but just for a moment, before his face twisted in anger again.
“Stay out of it,” he grunted as he headed for the door.
“Look, I know that you want to bring down Homelander more than anything. We all fucking do. But it’s starting to wear you down,” you confronted him. The truth was no one from the team really liked him. Everyone but you thought that he was an asshole. His increasing irritability and tension lately only bothered them because he was even more unbearable than usual. But you didn’t care about that. You could see right through his bullshit and knew that this was simply a mask, a little show he put on to keep people at a distance. You were desperately trying to break through and make him lower his guard.
But instead Butcher gave you a death stare. “I ain’t slowin' down until I put down the wanker,” he hissed at you.
“At least talk to someone… Talk to me. Let me help you,” you pleaded.
“Ain’t no way you can help me, luv.” He waved his hand dismissively and exited, leaving the air thick with unresolved feelings. 
You stared at his retreating figure, heart racing with frustration and worry amidst the eerily quiet office space. Why couldn’t he see that you wanted to help? Your mind raced, refusing to surrender. Butcher was the one who found you in that garbage of a life you had and offered you a chance on his team. He practically saved you and never once judged you for your past or the horrible things you’d done. You owed him big time and were determined to find a way to help him. You got up from your desk and started pacing across the room. Suddenly your eyes widened and a look of satisfaction crossed your face. If he was unwilling to talk, then perhaps there were other ways to reach him. The idea was good, but had the potential to end up as a complete disaster for you. You went to Butcher’s desk and grabbed the bottle of vodka. With what you were about to do, you needed all the support you could get. The heavy smell of alcohol made you wince, but you took a few gulps anyway before grabbing your jacket and walking out of the office.
His apartment was close by. You just hoped he would be there and not in some bar, drinking himself into oblivion. He opened the door on the third knock, just as you were about to give up. “Bloody hell, what are ya doin’ here?” His brows furrowed and he almost shut the door right back in your face, but you swiftly pushed him inside. Without giving him a second to think, you pressed your lips to his, your tongue seeking access to his mouth, which he willingly provided. It was a messy, passionate kiss, reflecting the unspoken desire you had for one another. But when the initial rush passed, Butcher came to his senses, grabbed you by the shoulders, and pulled you away. His brows arched as he gave you a long stare, still catching his breath. It wasn’t often that this man was left speechless, but you’d managed to do it. “We don’t have to talk, you know, we can just fuck. I can help you take the edge off,” you held his gaze and smirked at him, trying your best to put on a confident face. He made a long pause. You could see the internal struggle written all over his face. His eyes were filled with desire as he reached his hand toward your face, but stopped midway and let it fall back to his side.
“You should leave,” he finally muttered, averting his gaze. Your heart sunk into your stomach. Frustration surged as you tried to break through the concrete wall he was hiding behind. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t want me too. I’ve seen the way you look at me, when you think I am not watching.” Butcher clenched his jaw, still looking away. You noticed him tensing, fighting his internal demons. Silence. Complete and utter silence. A flush of redness crept up your neck. You suddenly felt like a complete fool, being so bluntly rejected by him. It was too much, even for you. “Fuck you, Billy,” you finally hissed at him and made a few steps towards the door, feeling completely embarrassed. “I’m only gonna ruin you, doll. You got no place around a cunt like me. Better stay away,” his voice was gruff, weighed down by unspoken truths. But for the first time there was a hint of vulnerability in it. You turned around to look at him. He was staring at the floor, looking so sad and broken that it made your heart ache. You closed the distance between the two of you and he didn’t object. “Don’t push me away, Billy,” you spoke softly, sincerely. “Haven’t you understood by now? I am not afraid of the real you. Never have been. On the contrary, I want you to show me the monster you claim to be.”
His eyes widened as he turned to look at you once again. You knelt before him and reached for the belt of his jeans. “Let me ease some of your tension. Make you forget about a shitty day in a shitty life. I want nothing more than that. Please, Billy, let me. Please, please, please, you need this so much. And I do too,” you begged him, putting yourself entirely at his mercy, fully aware how pathetic you sounded.
Butcher knew that you were too young and too good for him. He didn’t want to drag you down into the dirt with him. He wanted to stop you - to protect you from his chaos. He really did. But how could he? He was thinking about you constantly ever since you joined the team. You had occupied the deepest, darkest corners of his brain. The drunken hookup was a mistake he swore he would never repeat. But ever since then, it was the only thing he thought about when he touched himself. The way you were begging him now—so needy, so desperate for him—made him painfully hard. He had no strength left to continue fighting with himself.
Butcher tried to stop you. He really did. But instead he watched as you unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. The sheer sight of your small, gentle hand gripping his pulsating cock, made him go feral. At that moment he was completely gone. His fingers clenched your hair and pushed the whole length of his cock in your throat. You couldn’t breathe and started gagging, but Butcher didn’t care. He started controlling your movements, guiding your head back and forth across his length, shedding the tension from the bad day he’d had piece by piece. At some point he pulled out to look at your face - makeup all smeared and eyes teary. He really liked the sight of you in this condition. So dirty for him. It was a million times better than his fantasies.
 “You want to see the monster, huh?” Butcher teased, and you nodded enthusiastically, your cunt throbbing painfully for him.
“Are you sure you can take it? Such a fragile lil’ thing you are?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek. 
“Please, I can take it,” you whimpered, filled with longing, the intensity of your feelings evident in the quiver of your breath.
“So desperate,” Butcher snickered. The way you begged him made him want to do unspeakable things to you, to see how far he could go. Before you knew it, he spat in your face and dragged you by your hair across the floor, tossing you onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. “Spread your legs,” he ordered imperiously, placing his large hand on your throat. With the other he grabbed his cock, pressed the tip on your clit and started rubbing it. Waves of pleasure began spreading across your body. Amidst your intensifying moans, he pushed deep inside you with one harsh thrust, not giving you time to adjust to his size. Your moan turned into a scream. “Billy…” you winced.
“Tsk, tsk, you asked for this, luv,” he taunted, not bothering to temper his movements. Pretty soon, his steady rhythm combined with the slight pressure he applied on your throat transformed your pain into pleasure and you began purring in his ear. He felt so good, reaching all your sensitive spots, filling you up completely. His weight was pressing down on you, the heat of his body mixing with the distinct scent of musk and vodka. His hand, which was tightly curled around your throat, gave him full control over you. You were merely his stress relief, a tool he used. The pressure was gradually building up within you as you were nearing your climax. Butcher could sense that you were close, probably one or two thrusts away, when he stopped abruptly. This created a void inside you. You started squirming and whimpering, trying to pull him toward you, which only made him chuckle.
“You are not coming just yet,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.
“Please,” you begged and whimpered, but he paid no attention to your pleas as he turned you on your stomach and pinned your head on the bed. He gave you a hard slap on your butt, before shoving his cock deep inside you once again. His movements were fast and intensive, eager. The movements of someone who’d been needing a proper fuck for a long time. Every thrust washed away the tension that had built up over the past months, untying the knot in his stomach, making him forget all the dirt. And how could he not? In front of him was a fragile little thing with a perfect cunt, that basically begged him to snap her in two. You made him forget all his worries, because at this moment fucking you was the only thing that mattered in the world. You were a far better remedy than alcohol or any other drug he had ever tasted. 
He started rubbing your clit with consistent circular motions. The added pleasure was too much to handle, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm exploded inside you, turning you into a wreck - legs shaking uncontrollably, screams and whimpers. Seeing you break down on his cock like this was too much for Butcher. His thrusts became more intense, choppy. He followed you soon after and with a few final movements pumped his cum deep inside you, letting out a loud groan. The high from his orgasm acted like a veil, clouding all his worries. He lingered in that blissful moment, savoring the connection with you, trying to make it last as long as possible. After a while, he laid back on the bed, his legs trembling slightly, and pulled you into his embrace.
“You feeling better?” you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, after a long moment of silence filled only with your shared panting.
“Fuckin’ hell, you really are somethin’.” For the first time in months, you saw a genuine smile on Butcher’s lips as he pressed a kiss to your temple.
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stargazingfromeden · 4 months
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hey, me again, go check out the first chapter of my vamp!crowley x human!aziraphale fic i poured my brain soup into
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odoraful · 27 days
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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄.ᐟ
what happens when you don't use their pet name to call them?
⟡ content: zayne/sylus/xavier/rafayel x gn!reader; more dialogue heavy; silly and cute
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ZAYNE ⟡
“Can you help me put this on, Zayne?”
From the reflection in the mirror, you tried not to react at the twist in his brow and the momentary confusion in his eyes. Wordlessly, he moved behind you, fingers taking the necklace out of your hand. With his gaze focused on the task before him, you could see him open his mouth, hesitating to speak.
“Did I do something wrong?” he questioned.
Zayne’s deft hands carefully laid the chain around your neck, centering the pendent between your collarbones.
You plastered on your most innocent expression, despite the twinge of guilt you felt at his question.
“Hm? Why do you ask?”
Swiftly, he clasped the ends of the chain together. His eyes flicked towards yours in the mirror.
“You’re calling me by my first name. I thought pet names were an important step in a relationship for you.”
You nodded. “Yes, Zayne, I do think it’s an important step.”
His eyes narrowed at your continual uncharacteristic responses.
Folding his arms, he mused aloud. “It took you some time to drop the title ‘doctor’ for me and to just use my name. After we became official, you were quick to call me ‘love’.”
You fiddled with your necklace, trying to, impossibly, force away the heat from your face.
“So, either I did something to make you upset, or”—he leaned in close to you, the side of his face almost touching yours—“you’re playing a trick on me.”
You gave a mock frown. He cocked his head to the side, awaiting your response.
“Okay, okay, it was a prank.” Sighing, you surrendered to his deductions. “I wanted to see how you’d react, but you saw right through me,” you mumbled.
His lips quirked. “I’ve known you for long enough to figure these things out.”
Wanting to wipe off the amused look he had on his face, you quickly planted a kiss on his cheek. His face turned into surprise. He chuckled, shaking his head at your triumphant smile.
“Thank you for helping me, my love."
SYLUS ⟡
“Sylus, could you play that new record you bought?”
You called from the sofa. Standing by the record player, he turned to face you. The offence on his face was unmistakable as he placed his hands on his hips.
“Sylus?” he scoffed. “We both know that’s not what you call me.”
Your brows furrowed, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about? Isn’t that your name?”
“Sweetie,” he levelled a look of scepticism at you, “that hasn’t been my name for the past month we’ve been together.”
“I still don’t know what you mean, Sylus.”
He paused. Gears turned in his head trying to unpack what was happening, much like he would do when reading the truthfulness of a dealer during a bargain.
“Y/N.”
You’ve never heard your own name being said in such a serious manner. Perhaps you got a taste of your own medicine.
“I’m not particularly fond of lose-lose situations.” The softness in his tone made you feel weak. “You can tell me if I’ve done something to annoy you. I won’t be angry.”
“Not at all!” you quickly blurted out. Unable to hide it any longer, you confessed. “You haven’t done anything to annoy me. I was just trying to pull a small prank.”
All the tension visibly released from his body. A relieved sigh escaped him. “You really do play some dangerous games, kitten.”
Playfulness returned to his voice. “Now then, how will you correct your mistake?”
“Honey,” you drawled out each syllable, making it sound as syrupy as the nickname itself, “could you play that new record you bought now?”
Sylus couldn’t help but laugh at your exaggeration. “Why of course.”
XAVIER ⟡
“Xavier, do you want to try this?”
Subtly glancing at his reaction from the kitchen, you saw his face immediately fall into a pout. The look was fatal, and it took all the willpower you had not to drop the ruse right then and there.
“That’s not my name,” he answered.
“What do you mean?” you chuckled, continuing to put icing on the sugar cookies you baked. “Of course it is!”
“No, it’s not,” he insisted.
Placing his book down, he walked to stand at your side by the counter. You avoided his eye contact, pretending that nothing was amiss.
Resting a hand under his chin, he began to think. “You usually call me bunny, sweetheart, sunshine, or darling.”
Your jaw dropped in amused shock. “You remember all the names I’ve called you?”
His mouth twitches. “There are some more, but… they might be a bit embarrassing to say aloud right now.”
That was enough to make you look at him with wide eyes.
“Xavier!” Your face turned pink as you slapped his shoulder. There was no force behind the hit, but enough to convey your embarrassment.
“You did it again. You used the wrong name.” He stuck his bottom lip out.
You gently poked at his cheek, trying to lift the corner of his lip upwards. “Come on, don’t be sad darling.”
Immediately, he brightened before you.
“It was just a joke I saw couples do online. I wanted to see how you’d react.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “And was my reaction satisfactory?”
“I think it was,” you smiled at him, "but it’s a shame I didn’t film it, it would’ve made for a good Moments post.”
He shook his head. “But, the nicknames we use are only for us.”
The finished cookie in your hand had a bite suddenly taken from it as Xavier leaned down to have a taste.
“I don’t want anyone else to know.”
RAFAYEL ⟡
“Are you ready to go yet, Rafayel?”
He continued to hum to himself, completely ignoring you. You folded your arms as you watched him busy himself with something trivial. He flung open a random cupboard and inspected what appeared to be an assortment of spare art supplies.
“Rafayel,” you called again.
He then turned his attention to the fishbowl in the centre of the room, where a small orange fish darted around.
“Reddie, do you hear something?” he asked, gazing so earnestly into the bowl. This fish paused its movement and stared back at his owner.
“Rafayel~” you sang his name aloud this time, extending the last syllable.
He gasped, apparently receiving some confirmation from Reddie.
“You hear something too? Thank god. I was thinking there must be something wrong with my ears.”
Surveying the room around him, Rafayel intentionally looked past you standing barely a few metres from him, tapping your foot against the wooden floorboards of his studio.
“It sounds like”—he continued—“some kind of voice. Someone familiar to me, but I can’t make out who it is.”
“Rafayel!” you shouted his name between fits of laughter. Only he could respond to your jokes with his own dramatics.
He sucked in a breath in puzzlement. “I wonder who this person is calling out to.”
“Baby,” you finally conceded, “I’m talking to you!”
It seemed like he couldn’t keep up the act either, as he started laughing with you.
“Took you long enough,” he huffed, moving towards you and linking your arm with his. “Otherwise, Reddie and I would have been searching for this phantom voice for the rest of the day.”
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landossnorriss · 2 months
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i see you | ln x she.
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Pairing: lando x she.
Summary: a new voice appears on the radio to get lando through the end of the hungary race. part 2 here.
Word Count: 1.3k
Warning: we've taken some liberties on whose allowed on the team radio ok? i'm in mourning. this is also my first time writing for f1 or lando so >.>
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the small crackle in his ear was a sure sign that someone was about to patronise him again. for years, for years he had bled for mclaren. he'd turned down calls from horner and the men in red, he'd turned his nose to them every single time and now he finally had a chance to put a closer dent in his gap on the world championship and they just wanted him to give it up. it wasn't fair, oscar couldn't even keep up he was the fastes-
"lan?" the quiet voice that appeared in his ear shocked him, his frown forming in his helmet.
"love? now they're using you to get to me?" he scoffed at the thought, his foot on the throttle a little harder as he made his way around turn 11. fuck the team orders, they couldn't do this to him.
for her part, his girl could feel the guilt eating at her chest. "i think so." she'd wanted to smack will when he had looked at her pleadingly from the garage. "but you tell me right now, if you want this win and i'll fight will for the radio for the rest of the race, i'll be out of here so quick and i'll cut them off, give you the time you need." she offered and lando knew she meant it. his girl was quiet, preferred to stay out of the lime light and would always pick his jolly over the flash cars he had, but when it came down to it she was scrappy.
a small smile appeared on the racers face as he thought about the sight, honestly he hoped she managed to trip will and cause some momentary damage. noting he had gone quiet she let her head drop a little, eyes closing as she tried to imagine was going through his head. "my love...can you look at him in the morning if you don't let him past now?" she asked quietly, ignoring the glares that were surrounding her in the pit wall.
"it's a win baby, i need to prove that i can win on my own after miami and i need...i need those points for the championship."
"so drive, put your throttle down lan, drive and don't stop till the flag if you can live with being that man, but i know you and i love you and i'll love you regardless of what you chose right now but i also know you and this won't be winning on your own merit, this will haunt you my love and he'd do it for you, you know he'd do it for you."
lando paused again, swallowing as he rounded the corner. "you'd love me even if i took the win?"
"even then." and now she was pretty sure will was going to murder her if she ever surrendered this radio, at the very least, andreas was never letting her back in the garage.
"you'll love me more if i give osc the spot back?" he hated how unsure his voice sounded as he asked the question and her heart broke for him over how much she knew he would tare into himself later.
"no lando, my love for you isn't based on what you do in that car, not ever, its the man that comes home to me i care about." chewing on her lip she let her gaze flicker to the monitors. "the pit lane straight is coming up..." the comment hung in the air between them and she watched as it happened, 6 seconds, 5.3 seconds, 4 seconds - lando was letting him past.
"you're my winner lando." she whispered softly into the radio, silently wiping the tear that fell at his act. the look of relief around the pit wall was enough to make her guilt grow even more, at what they had cost lando today, what they had made her do. if they could just get their damn strategies right he wouldn't have been put in this position in the first place, he'd had been free to race as he came out behind oscar but instead she would piece together the pieces they threatened to break again as she took care of him tonight.
"i love you so much." lando urged as he watched oscar fly past him, his heart stopping for a moment before his foot found the throttle again. he didn't want to hear wills voice again, not right now and they could make it through two more laps without his help anyway. "will you stay with me for the rest of the race?" he asked because wins and races could come and go so long as he had her.
her eyes flickered to andreas on the wall from where she knew he was listening, watching as he nodded. "confirmed norris, i'm with you till the end." they didn't say much as he finished his race but she kept the line open with him. if the rest of the world would have something to say about the lovers simply existing together for the next two minutes then let them, she was the only one who saw him sometimes she was sure, the only one who knew what he had just done would be doing to him inside.
the chequered flag came and she checked the screens once more before making the call. "that's p2 baby, p2, you know what to do from here." sliding from her chair she didn't bother to take the head set off as she made her way through the garage and out through the pit lane to where she knew lando would soon be parking. she was easy to spot with the bright yellow merch she wore, forever a lando girl over mclaren and her eyes shiny as she watched her man move to congratulate oscar. it left a bitter taste in her mouth, that the win would be tainted by shitty team orders but she'd get to celebrating with oscar later once she knew her driver was ok.
she continued to chew at her lip as lando removed his helmet, the green eyes she knew so well looking around for her and she let her smile return at the way his shoulder visibly relaxed at the sight of her. lando was slow to move, not wanting to risk any more hate that he already knew he was going to get but there was only one thing he wanted right now. the hands he felt cupping his face, an instant sanctuary for the male. "i see you lan." the soft words that meant more to him than even love would.
leaning forward lando let the gap between them close, his lips find hers softly for a moment. normally she would pull away and scald him, knowing just how many cameras were in this pit lane to capture the moment but he needed her more now than she needed to shrink into the shadows. "i'm so damn proud of you." she whispered against his lips, fingers finding the damp curls at the back of his head and her chest settling now that she could hold him once more.
he'd never been as good with words as she had, always seemingly saying the same thing but he wanted to try, for her. "you mean more to me than all this you know?" he could already hear the people calling his name for media duties and as tempting as it was to just face the fines, grab his girl and vanish, lando knew that it would be better for the team if he saved them face. all the blood he'd lost for them still had to count for something right? taking a final second to lock in her face, lando lent forward for a final singular kiss. "i'll see you in my drivers room." he promised before he stepped away.
with a small nod she moved back, eyes filled with tears once more as he stepped up to take the mike from nico and he demonstrated once more why he was the man she adored. racing could continue to test him all it wanted, but she would be the anchor whilst he weathered any storm for as long as he needed her.
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kooyabooya · 4 months
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BABYLON
m reader x sana // 26k words
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Almighty hand to God, there had been much, much worse situations to get yourself stuck in. 
If there’s any sort of consolation to fall back on, you’d wish that you’d say something earlier, call this off with a simple push and shove on the way out the door, close it and wrap up nicely with no worry filling your mind. 
It’s not that easy, though. 
Never was to begin with. 
Not when you have the lights off in your study, the sound of laughs downstairs surrounding the dining table, really fucked how you’ve hidden away from everyone else - also wanting to at the same time because all of them would have the same thread of thoughts running through their head if they saw you at the front of your desk with another body pressed towards you. 
“Don’t get so worked up,” Sana tells you, lips fast across your neck while her singular hand is well deep into the grip of your shaft. You could feel her breath slip through the opening when her lips are back on yours, the taste of her is already addicting the more she leans, a hand in her hair trying to give more, fighting, but losing drastically. 
What you give, Sana takes. That’s usually how it works in most cases like these with her. You can’t stop, you won’t stop. It’s already difficult to break away once she’s lowering your inhibitions without the use of alcohol. 
“Maybe I should deal with you right now instead of later,” you tell her, hiding the smallest hint of worry when your hands find Sana’s hips. She’s proud of the sigh she lets out against your mouth when pulling away before you’re quick to drag her back in. “Let the whole world below know of the things you’re doing to me right now?” 
You won’t stop giving in, because Sana gets you. Just like that. 
“Have them screaming in shock when you bend me over the desk fucking me?” Sana asks, a tempting offer above a whisper at that. It also doesn’t help that she’s giggling at the thought of you doing exactly what she proposes. “Sounds hot,” she says, huskily, “because I know you would.” 
This was never supposed to happen. Hell, this was the last thing you expected to happen. All of the possibilities in repercussions start flowing through your head again because this was definitely not the first time you’ve surrendered yourself to Sana’s advances, nor that you didn't want to. 
She’s like quick sand, pulling you from underneath into the catacombs of temptations that would have Satan himself impressed if he could see you right now. Or how this woman at her fingertips is breaking down every last bit of rational support running through your brain just so that she can draw out the rasps of desperation to get her screaming, shuddering. 
You could lower the flag and raise up the drawbridges - it’s so easy to do. She’s playing all of her cards right, knowing that your hand would never stack up against hers. 
Forget calling a bluff in this house of cards, since the only play you have in your book is to fold. 
You see, the events that happened before the wildfire were relatively tame. 
Nothing but wins coming left and right in the avenue of your life. Speaking of avenues, there’s this newly acquired house (all thanks to your surprisingly good credit score) alongside this block that has a new occupant–
“Babe, the place is amazing!” Dahyun exclaims out, arms around your neck once you and her finally make it past the front porch, taking in the high ceilings and matte layout of the new space. All of this wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the countless days and hours of work to achieve this milestone. You’ll be proud of yourself for settling down while others may be working for bigger goals and ambitions. 
(A minor correction: two new occupants.)
The house itself is in a nice area. Not too far from the city, in a pretty well modest community, alongside the hills. Detailing is pretty modern: four bedrooms, three bathrooms, two stories, kitchen was renovated before signing off the lease, ideas for rooms themselves are already drafting from Dahyun’s pinterest board. Knowing that your wife has some good taste, it wasn’t worth deliberating over. You’ve gone through the gauntlet of places in different areas: beachside, close by to your cousins, one was also about a two hour trip away from the city, there’s also this high rise apartment that would’ve been a perfect choice though it never happens. 
There’s some scattered boxes here and there still, but most of the things are already in place from the whole moving process. Aside from all the heavy lifting and not wanting to stain the ring on your finger from the dust and oil when the truck broke down on one of four trips, the beauty of being able to be grounded by the tune of Dahyun’s laughs and witty banter when you’re trying to catalog and take inventory of the things that will be kept and what’s going up for the garage sale you plan to have within the next week or so. 
“I’m just glad that we finally got it over with.” You put her down, eyes overseeing the view past the spacious living room, as well as the boardwalk-esque deck housing the pool right outside. “Absolute hell trying to get the final documents signed, but finally.” 
“I’m so proud of you honey,” Dahyun tells you, hand to your cheek with the most reassuring look that she’s known for giving in your times of crisis. “Had I known that we’d actually get the house after almost signing off on the last place with Jeongyeon–” 
“Our luck was pretty much cut out for us,” you amend, though she’s not thinking of the ‘what could’ve been’ - since the here and now was all that mattered to Dahyun. You wanted this, and she did too. The agreement was not hard to fight over; sights were set, end of discussion. 
“We should give our credit to Jeongyeon for referring us to this place,” Dahyun starts again, trailing off with hands behind her back, chin up when she walks in deeper. Her gaze turns back to you, leaning on the pillar when you’re staring up at the intricate set of lights hanging over the couch. “Didn’t you say this listing was about to be taken down at the last minute?” 
“Almost,” you answer, hugging Dahyun again with your nose in her hair, “Gladly got the call as soon as I found out.” 
Dahyun twists around, arms circling her waist, pulling her closer under your touch. She’s happy, giddy when the tip of your nose is nuzzling hers for a quick second. Cliché, corny even, but you’re in love and she’s in love - something that the new home will be more filled with for years to come. 
“Shouldn’t we empty out the rest of the remaining boxes?” you ask her, hands curling inward on the small of her back, leaning in slowly for the softness of her fingertips across your face, the plushness of her lips on yours. 
This was a brand new start, a turn of the page in the livelihood of things, one act onto the next. 
Here’s the thing about new beginnings, most of these aspects are supposed to be taken in a positive light.
Most of the time. 
The subject of change itself is frightening, can make someone anxious at times because of the uncertainty of how things would play from here on out. Naturally, it’s normal for human beings to feel like this - this daunting notion in being uncomfortable because of this collective notion of ‘being stuck in the past’ or ‘to relive the glory days’. Nostalgia is believed to be one of the great unsaid drugs that everyone takes unknowingly without even realizing it. 
Luckily, you’re not facing things alone around these parts of life now. 
Kim ‘the introverted but somewhat still a social butterfly’ Dahyun has this effect on others that makes her extremely likable. Hell, if it weren’t for that characteristic, the ring on her finger wouldn’t have been there in the first place. She just has this quintessential quirk of just being able to click with others like it's nothing, almost as if she’s known someone she’s just met for more than five years. 
It’s an art in itself to admire, a playlist of clips in your mind that you’ll keep replaying over and over whenever the instance occurs. 
You’re willing to be a people person while she does it effortlessly. 
Not even a week after getting settled in, Dahyun was already getting acquainted with the nearby neighbors opposite and adjacent to your place while you’re busy getting the groceries in (since one or two trips are always the priority for the efficiency of less work.) 
If you’re looking at your new house from the street and inwards, the home on your left is owned by Jihyo. She’s lovely, adventurous, mostly in and out of the house on a daily basis. You lean an ear into the conversation while Dahyun’s getting her small garden going that Jihyo was also a pilates coach, the hint taken with the amount of lululemon products she wears and has in her closet in the brief exchanges of hello’s and head nods. In the next house over to the right, there was Chaeyoung’s place. Dahyun tells you over dinner a few nights ago that Chaeyoung is this underground indie artist that’s hardly home because of her tour scheduling and the fact that she’s in London for her Europe leg on the calendar, but was home for a quick break since her brother just came back from the mandatory military service. 
“You know, when I first looked into this cul de sac, I didn’t expect to live next to a considerable amount of celebrities.” you say, tending to the raw set of patties spread across the grill while the backyard of your house was transformed to this small, homey, kickback-style of a housewarming party with nearly everyone invited along the street. “Too early to say I’ve hit the jackpot?” 
“Please,” Jihyo starts, the cup of bourbon in her hand swirling while the smoke is up in the air, “I think you think too highly of this community a lot.” 
“Everyone has something special going on around here, which is nice.” 
“A silent observer,” she murmurs at you, “Dahyun likes that about you, the ability to read people. You could honestly pass that as your hidden talent.” 
“I may not be a people person like her, but if the conversation persists–” 
“He has no problem slotting himself into it like it’s nothing.” Dahyun says over your shoulder, arm snaking your middle while she’s pressing a kiss into the blend of your shirt while you’re flipping burgers on the clock. “The best at it too.” 
Even through the shades of your glasses, you lean over with Dahyun scooching to your left. A white bucket hat is all you see through the lens that’s shielding the top of her head with the monochrome scheme she has with her dress and shirt. Simplicity at its finest with the way she swipes your drink for a quick clink with Jihyo’s before downing it after. 
There’s this mix of food and drinks being dished out, there’s a lot of simple activities spread out across the yard. Some people are in the pool with White Claws on the cupholders of the floaties, another group is playing spikeball that one of them brought over for more variety with the hoop on the outer rim of the boardwalk, the set table for beer pong, and essentially some others that were scribbled off the shopping list. 
You’re weaving in and out of different groups throughout the houseparty - the role of being the host of the party really shows with the amount of times you’ve checked in with everyone in the span of ten to fifteen minutes. It’s all in good graces really, to set a solid first impression while the ambience really sets everyone into a mood. Cooling down once the sunset hits, and all of a sudden the influx of drinks being passed around might be mistaken as a frat party. 
Aside from the inquiries of passing more drinks, you’ve noticed the stigma that’s seeping through the guest’s faces when you’re indulging in conversations, a hierarchy of sorts. And when they see you get cozy in the seat, that’s when the questions occur. 
Mina, the person living in the house on the opposite side of your street asks: so what’s your daytime occupation, if you don’t mind me asking?
Quick on the draw, you answer: Currently working in data science from the comforts of my home. Oh, and I also dabble with a little bit of history to a minor stance. 
“The world doesn’t thank enough people who aren’t willing to move for a charitable cause.” Her tone is nonchalant, almost flat. That simple black dress she’s wearing, the outline of her figure that may look unreal at first glance, the way her leg is folded on top that signifies that she’s all class, a tilt of her head that has you leaning back ever so slightly. “Are you this some sort of- house husband then? Given the way you’ve been tending to us around the party so far?”
“God no,” you answer, hand up in defense while you’re casually leaning for the unattended cup of Lager that was brought in by Jihyo’s fling? Booty call? Friend with some benefit? It wouldn’t matter since he’s athletic enough to have his own chain of gyms as a fine investment. “Call me a clean freak, but I get by with my duties around the new place.”
“What does Dahyun do again?” Lisa, another neighbor just a few houses down chimes in, “You said that she’s–”
“A corporate lawyer,” you say, catching Dahyun in your peripheral view who’s laughing with another guest that seemed to just make their way into the late afternoon. Hand to the back of your head while racking it, “She’s pretty damn good at her job too.” 
You get a collective nod from the two women when you keep your mouth partly open with a tongue nicking the inside of your bottom lip. Logistically, Dahyun was a key counterpart in her firm, the way that she’s her bosses’ right hand when it comes to finishing off deals whether the fact it came down to mergers or closing cases. She’s always one to speak her mind, not willing to play nice or by the book. 
Generally, a lawyer’s job tends to be stressful at times, given the unhealthy hours depending on what lands on her desk first thing when she walks in, early or not. If Dahyun needs some downtime, you’d give it to her - something about it that she coined you to be her sleeping pill. 
(Kinda funny, though.) 
However, there was this whole ordeal of some big litigation incident with one of the firm’s associated parties. Something about the high ranking chairman and close member convicted of fraud and if the press found out about it, the whole door gets blown up and it turns into an absolute shit show. Dahyun’s boss had her spearhead the whole thing and as a big token of appreciation, she managed to get time off. 
The apartment prior was starting to get a little bit cramped, so she brought up the idea of moving while eating out for lunch one afternoon and that was that. 
Explains how the house acquisition was more simple to deal with, considering how you’re good with numbers and finances, but that’s all to know. 
Tech savvy, is what Mina tells you, taking out of it with a margarita in her hand while you raise your cup in acknowledgement, breaking away from the set of couches around the makeshift bonfire pit. Ever the sentry, unintentional but it’s what a good party host does to get to know new faces, right? 
Like the ping pong ball on the table, you’re bouncing around the backyard again, avoiding the splash zone of the pool when you slide across the makeshift bar of different varieties of drinks off to the right of the sliding door, cups riddled both half full and empty that’ll have to be dealt with eventually later, or in the next morning - whichever one happens first. A frame of mind falls into the same habit, picking up the clutter for a bit before you could treat yourself to another choice of booze or wine you’ll fish out of the kitchen once done. 
Nothing would prepare you for the extra set of small hands swooping in the table to keep tight on the slack. 
She seems familiar, not long term familiar, but something that you’ve caught yourself having a double take at for a quick second only to forget a couple seconds later. A quick spike of the heartbeat, that’s also something that you’re very torn on in that moment - running back a necessary subroutine in your memory banks to check that you’re - well, you.
“I take you’re the guy Dahyun was praising about.” she says, her voice cheery with that simple but sly smile of hers that’s stabbing daggers into your heart. “Find it hard to believe that you’re her husband, actually.”
The solo cups slide in smoothly, placing it back in the respective stack while this girl is tending to the crushed water bottles and cans in that small plastic bag she’s putting them in. A small contribution at that, but a helpful gesture that you’ll indirectly accept once the plastic is tied and in the bin. 
“And what are you trying to say?” you start, arm bearing your hand when you stand square across from her. “Was it everything that you hoped to expect?” 
Unbuttoned baseball jersey, those high top sneakers and short shorts giving a slight peek into her figure from the down up. Her tank top also raised enough to show her toned midsection that looks tapered and detailed. Casual, you think, perfect for the summer vibe that you could honestly put a lei over her neck and all of a sudden this party is a fucking luau. 
“Hon!” a voice calls out to you in the distance, approaching you and the girl from the other side of the yard. When that person gets closer, it turns out to be Dahyun who immediately grins at the sight of you looking all curious. “Oh! Good, I’ve managed to get you two both together.” 
“But you didn’t do anything.” 
“Who said that I was the one to start it?” 
“Coming from the person who’s all for taking the credit for herself.” 
“Always the pleaser,” the girl laughs out loud, Dahyun closing in with her fingers intertwining with hers. There’s history to them - not even a second thought to track back, it’s all there right in front of you to see. It also clicks in your head that this girl was also the same one that Dahyun was gleefully excited to see back in your sit-in with Mina and Lisa. 
The exchange of happy glances abruptly stops when Dahyun catches you with an arched brow, looking for answers, and to this she just smiles downward because how could she forget with the formalities, it’s silly. “Babe, I’d like you to meet Minatozaki Sana, one of my closest friends since college.” 
“Sana,” you say, and when the syllables reverberate past the oral cavity and into the air, it rolls off the tongue nicely. “I see, friend of Dahyun’s?” 
“Indeed I am,” she says, extending her hand as a peaceful offering - not even realizing the turmoil that’s running through your head while hiding it effortlessly. The way her hand fits in yours, her whole body looks delicate like she’s handmade with God’s well crafted time; she’s also a few inches taller than Dahyun (by two for the accurate calculation), you’ve got Dahyun to mold into the threads of the mattress and now imagine–
“I was wondering who was getting Dahyun a bit excited at the gate when you came in,” you say as you’re pouring yourself another cup of brandy this time, since the other drinks were relatively tame for your high alcohol tolerance. “Now with a face to the name, I gotta say, you’re pretty likable already.” 
Bottom line, it’s really curious to act this way. Clearly, you’re smiling at the fact that she’s standing there with her arms crossed, you’ve placed your cup down filling the next one, because another wouldn’t hurt. 
So how did you and Dahyun meet, you say - palm flat on the foldable table that sends the drinks sloshing slightly at the change in stable weight. I would assume that the story in itself is an interesting one, I hope? 
Sana and Dahyun have this exchanging look between the two of them, the infatuation of how their minds are interlinked. These two have been through everything, despite the differences in majors and fields of work - the bond that they have is admirable. “What do you know about me that Dahyun has told you?” 
“Whatever that wasn't ordinary already,” you reply. “What also boggles my mind is that–”
“If she told you about the time I almost had to blow my professor to give me a passing grade, she’s dead wrong. It never happened.” That star-stricken grin that has you pouting slightly and rolling your eyes because her answer has you completely way off of left field. 
Not that, you add on but-hmm it can only make you wonder of the kinds of things that happened in that period of youth, before Dahyun came along into your life albeit a simple nudge of the shoulder while passing between working schedules. A part of the script of life that’s rewritten in itself and jesus - it’ll sit in the comfy nook of your brain while it sends your heart and gut flipping in all directions. 
Let that be a new doc or spreadsheet for you to graph out in your mind, because there’s a lot to compute and learn into getting this right. 
So it actually turns out that Sana’s the next door neighbor living on the left of your house. She just wasn’t there during the whole moving process before the housewarming party because like Mina, Sana was out and about seeing the world - something about putting some miles in her life trying to cross off one or two things off the bucket list, maybe more. 
There’s only some noticeable details to keep track of in a few: 
* Said somewhere along the lines of having a fear of heights? Lost a bet to her cousin and went skydiving to get over it. 
* Well-spoken, considering that she was in Dahyun’s undergrad cohort before she had a change of heart in her choice of major, leading towards the pipeline of communication studies or working with kids, cute. 
* She’s an only child in the family and very accepting of the fact of having a big house to herself (since Juile, her housemate who was also paying for half of the place but hardly around to live inside and still depositing the rent when it was time). Lonely, one might say out of sympathy but that would be undermining her success till now. 
* Oh, and that story of her blowing her professor to get a passing grade? Hard to believe how it’s true and very similar to a common storyline you’ve surfed incognito on the internet before.
“Look,” and she says this with a whole hearted laugh when you’re behind her and Dahyun walking out of the side gate. “It was only a one time thing, I swear and plus,” you’re having flash of doubt when Dahyun looks over, and you’re terrible at hiding it because it’s in your eyes, a shake of the head in disbelief when Sana’s shoulders slouch, “we were sophomores that hated that fuckass professor so much, I was willing to take the fall.” 
“And you did, but thank god there’s no proof of documentation that recounts such events like those, right? Right?” 
A prompting cough deviates the ongoing conversation, “I assume that everything was handled then?” To this, Sana nods - right hand swearing under oath, smiling earnestly with those eyes of hers, left hand supporting her elbow. She’s distracting with how her tank top peeks out with her chest open slightly. In the court of law, she could never get away with testifying let alone convince the grand jury. “I mean, what would happen if there was something that’s sizable enough to damage your image of being this good-willed human being?” 
“Then everyone would watch the world burn if that were the true, but I’m cautious of my digital footprint, always making sure that my track record is clean.” 
(She’s in the same pedigree as Mina, Lisa, and pretty much everyone that’s occupying the boulevard: poised, casual, stable, know themselves all too well to get what they want - because they always do, it’ll have your head turning from the moment they walk in to when they leave the table. Dahyun gave you the brief rundown about her circle of friends; they’re good people, not wanting to let the finer things of life get to them, stay true to their words, grounded even.)
It’s how the amber light of your garage door shines above that gives Sana this radiating shade of copper in her hair. You’d offer to walk her back to her place if it wasn’t just a few steps away. Better yet, Dahyun would’ve permitted you to do so if you were to ask right now, but it’s fine. The grace period of life works in mysterious ways, funny how this sense of nostalgia comes back when you see two lovely girls play the game of catch-up, hugging after not seeing each other for a couple years. 
Tuning back in to the image: 
“I’m baffled you’ve managed to land a house like this, especially with your money and the amount of back breaking work you do on a daily basis. Twenty trials? You’re a fucking workaholic.” 
The pair of them laugh together, it’s really heartwarming to listen. 
Still, 
“-plus the extended vacation time you just got-” Sana sounds like a kid on the last days of school trying to come up with a multitude of things to waste time while Dahyun just listens to her rambling; eyes curving up with stupid smiles and the head tilts as if the secrets being exchanged are not meant to be spoken of to others, they look good together, wow. Have we checked the calendar if it’s Pride month still?
When they turn toward you, the actions seem unreal to register. Dahyun’s monolids contrast Sana’s double eyelids, the way Sana’s eyes especially look almond like. Her smile is a little smaller compared to Dahyun’s and when they’re just freely cuddling each other without any spite of jealousy beneath it.
They’re leaving you dumbfounded, consider yourself to be humbled. 
Sana breaks the hug first before she lets out an overreaching hand for you to shake. You’ll admit on another given day to Dahyun that Sana’s pretty, the small pull hinting at her smile all the more reason to give a positive outlook for first impressions that will also have you wondering how in the hell isn’t she in a relationship yet. Overkill when she does the line with her eyes while keeping the same smile when mirroring Dahyun’s expression, too. 
“Same number as always?” Dahyun asks, clinging onto her hand like she’s going away for a sizable amount of time. “I got nothing for the next couple of weeks.” 
“I’ll just walk over and ring the doorbell, don’t bother.” Sana’s answer is optimistic, and you’re hoping she’ll stick to her word because you’re willing to break the lines, the yellow tape at the scene, and ignore the lines of ink blacked out for confidentiality assurance. 
You and Dahyun say good night, and she’s just happily bouncing along the sidewalk into her own front yard. 
“She likes you, by the way.” Dahyun tells you, slotting herself right underneath your right arm while you’re squinting to see absolutely nothing in the darkness, not even tuned in to what your wife was telling you. A few sweeps of looks across the street pass and you’re rubbing warmth on her shoulder, only to nudge your head slightly to finally hear. 
“Sana’s…interesting.” you say, blinking, looking down at Dahyun’s gaze before your eyes shoot away scouring for something else to eye at in the short meantime before a light slap to the stomach sends you snorting out of the quick annoyance. “Hey, based on how she acted, I would’ve thought she’d be anything but ordinary.” 
“She’s done some stupid shit, that’s for sure.” Dahyun signs to her own admission, seeing it first hand of the stories that were told an hour ago. “Though, she’s gotten better once I convinced her to see things in a different perspective.” 
“Could’ve passed as a good lawyer if you asked me.” 
“Please tell me that’s satirical.” 
“Wasn’t planning to say, but I guess it just happened.” 
A close of the gate and up the steps into the front door, easy to say that getting yourself settled in for once in your life doesn’t seem to be that bad of an idea. The plans themselves are just getting started, drawing them up on the itinerary sometime later this week will get a number of things going. 
Apparently nobody saw this coming, and let this be an error in the calculations because evidently, this whole ‘summer in the hamptons’ type thing was about to be undermined entirely. 
Turns out on the following day, Dahyun gets this business call at around three in the morning, and the phone just keeps vibrating on the nightstand. She eventually lets you off slumbering with the lamp on while she goes to the couch to hear what her boss was egging on about for what you think would be a short call, but it wasn’t. 
What you eventually find out hours later is that Dahyun was called in to help play defense in this big lawsuit that was deemed to be ‘the second coming of the Watergate Scandal’. God, those news anchors and journalists need to do a better job of nailing the creative writing aspect because it was just fucking awful when they’re reporting it at eight in the morning after. Apparently you’re also reading an article online on your desktop about Dahyun’s firm coming under fire for a sizable client that’s been doing murky deals behind their backs that would not only jeopardize one branch of the corporate relationship, but all the potential deals that have yet to be signed. It’s a mess. Though, work shouldn’t even be the thought since Dahyun’s pulling out all of these boxes that were related to this case out all over the dining room table that she has to bring back to her office and whatever was on the menu for the boat party next week that you’re having with close family and friends was about to be canceled. 
And this has happened on many occasions, but if it involved Dahyun or anything related to the law firm she holds dearly to her heart (of course, you’re first, obviously) the support in her endeavor would always be important to protect. 
“I just hoped that they were able to handle this quietly, and without my help.” You’re dipping your head down to spit the last taste of mint from your mouth. Dahyun leans forward on the sink with her ankles crossed, wearing one of your shirts blinking dutifully, quite zoned out while her hand is over your hamstring, tapping it gingerly. 
“Well if that were the case, then they would’ve called you in anyway.” You say, raising an eyebrow with the tinge of mouthwash cycling in and out when you spit again. “So much for having your rewarded vacation time.” 
Dahyun leans back against the mirror when she’s putting her hair up in this messy bun. She looks a little more relaxed compared to the ragged breaths down your ear when your cock was buried inside her, clinging to your neck while that vicious upstroke of your hips sends her absolutely blown out. The look she gives with her pleading eyes when you take the toothbrush out of her mouth, washing it after she leans over to spit out the toothpaste before handing a washcloth for you to wipe yourself with. “You think I shouldn’t go.” 
“Wasn’t really bringing that up for you to consider, but judging how this looks from the outside in, I’d say it’s pretty bad.” 
“You’re really not helping my train of thought here,” she sighs, hands bearing her waist, the crinkles of your shirt on her subtly showing that petite frame, the image itself recorded in your memory banks loads of times - each one just like the first, if not better. 
Sliding over a few inches to where she sits there idly, your hands placed on the outer rim where her knees bend over the marble counter. She doesn’t change her posture when you’re looking her in the eyes trying to get a read on what her next move might be. Still elegant as ever, Dahyun will always put this appearance on even when it's the simple domestic life she’s living. 
Energy levels are still high, and the initial action was to get back to watching this sappy rom-com kdrama that bored Dahyun to the point where she slipped a hand inside your sweatpants just to ‘spice things up a bit’. Once the prompted question of are you still watching appears on the screen after minutes of inactivity, no point in answering it while she’s happily fucking herself over you while you’re sprawled across the satin sheets, gripping into her perfect waist with the sound of her hips with yours bouncing off the new walls. 
When’s the flight? You ask her, hand sliding up her thigh slowly. I could put in a word for your associate to get that done, save the trouble. Inevitably, the jaws of justice will soon swallow her up again when she manages to break free from the shackles of court orders and depositions. 
“First thing at nine,” she answers, fingers tugging at the midpoint of where the seam of your shirt and the waistband of your sweats meet. “Got some things to pack up soon, but I think most of the papers and boxes won’t be a lot for me to carry on the quick plane trip back.” 
“Crazy that they get paid for a short flight from upstate.” 
“In addition to the fact that they’re also on my dad’s payroll.” 
“A plus I might admit.” you muse. 
Dahyun shifts her gaze from right to left, spreading her legs wider when you scoot her hips up to meet yours. The hum of satisfaction that she gives when your eyes flick up to see that rosy shade of pink plastered across her face, eyes waiting, honing on something that she subjects that will be given to her. Precision was one of her key strengths, but when that’s used against her, it’s a completely different story. 
When she tugs a little bit more on your undershirt to lift, she usually does so with this sense of security - like a kind of clinginess that you won’t have any sort of complaint against. You’ve understood it to a degree. Whether you’re dropping by the office of the firm or being dragged into the kitchen after sitting on your chair for hours and hours doing analytics and business calls, moments like these with Dahyun are always something to behold. Considerably, you don’t mind giving into her needs for attention; in fact, you’re willing to do that without even thinking twice. 
“So,” Dahyun prompts with this sultry voice of hers, clueless and innocently - as if she has no idea what she’s doing to you. With her (your) shirt rumpled all over her body, those pretty eyelashes, her creamy thighs, the way that her fingers are grazing the elastic of both your sweats and boxers, you begin to assess the conditions when you’ve nestled yourself in between her knees, some water staining the gray cotton when you finally lean closer. “How are you gonna handle yourself while I’m gone?” 
“I think you’ll lay the severance package,” you say, not giving any faltering sense when she’s ghosting her set of fingertips on the right hand across your chest. “If there’s damages to it, I don’t mind paying up.” 
“Non-compete or NDA,” Dahyun huffs, lifting the outer seam of the shirt past her hips, showing the opening underneath where her pussy is glistening with her slick, awaiting your end of the bargain, this non-verbal agreement where she knows that you’ll always deliver the requests and offers. “Besides, you still owe me.” 
Laughing, you do recall the statement. It’s funny - there’s a trade off throughout the day earlier where you’re awoken to her warm mouth, deepthroating your cock that leaves you with these sharp inhales. The way her jaw slacks of how she sucks, the mix of spit lathering all over your length while she’s bobbing away between your thighs at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. Even after Dahyun takes care of the morning wood situation, you pay her back by eating her pussy freely on the kitchen counter as the logical option to keep yourselves occupied while waiting for the oatmeal. There’s no competition between the two of you of who makes the other cum the fastest, the hardest, let alone how many rounds can you do in a day; it really just boils down to this one simple look, a push-pull that sends the neurons firing away automatically - fucking each other ‘just because’ to put it simply. 
This girl on the bathroom sink, slouching, head against the mirror still while your hands finally snake under her shirt, feeling the unbelievable midsection under the breasts when she lowers her eyes, leaning up for the touch of your lips. 
Every kiss, stolen or prolonged, each one always has the flaps in your heart opening. She’s yours. 
Tender at first, but then the heat gets raised up when her arm hooks onto your waist, fighting the slipping tongue that’s breaking away for a slight second in her mouth. Her hands are also grasping for any kind of reach for her to clutch on, no luck for it when she finally takes her fingers into your hair, not wanting to pull away. 
Dahyun does this little whine after the quick inhale of air when you slip a finger or two inside her bare cunt, testing the waters as she bites her lip in anticipation. “Don’t do that now,” she spits. That obscene noise coming out of her instantly after when she bucks her hips forward again, accidentally curling a finger in her warm cunt that makes her look away from your intense gaze. “Darling, please–” 
“Use your words honey,” you whisper against her lips when you’re tugging on her bottom lip, causing her to sit up straight on the counter, slotting her arms around your neck with hands circling her waist. “Can’t really hear what you’re saying if you’re mopping my face up.” 
She’s losing her sense of focus when your fingers continue to bottom out the whole length of them, filling her up and pushing deeper. It also doesn’t help when your thumb presses flat on her clit that sends her mewling at the bend. Her face is against your neck, the steady pace of those staggered breaths against your skin keeps your current operation on the clock, unraveling this line when you’re slipping in and out of her. 
“Baby, baby, baby, please–” her heel locks the back of your thigh in place, hitting a kneecap on the cabinet. She’s reduced to these simple words and responses with the heavy breathing. Her hips are nearly coming off the glassy surface of the sink. The shirt’s lifted up beneath her perky mounds (and that fucking underboob is a national treasure in itself), the seal of your mouth is all over her throat: pulling, kissing, gnawing. You kinda feel bad for the concealer pack she’s gonna be using later for a brief afterthought. 
Although this little contest of edging Dahyun out to cum wasn’t on the cards for tonight. You’re managing this smile when she pulls the hair tie out of her hair, letting it flow freely. This look of post-sex yet natural style that she does makes you stare in awe when you pull her hips more out at the edge, the way her elbows are propped up nicely and her legs are spread even wider. Her hand pulls the shirt higher, showing her breasts now, the preferred choice of marks that were left there as a reminder from earlier. You slip out of the sweatpants and boxers, fixed on the brushing of her bare cunt just millimeters away from dipping yourself - a teasing tip, then the first couple inches at the half - and that shudder from her hips catches you off guard. 
“Yes,” Dahyun moans out that matches your sigh in perfect timing. A moment’s hesitation, replaced with the second necessary action to sink yourself into her more, parting her walls nicely, slowly, until you feel all of her wrapped around you. 
She gasps, mewling, spilling out this chain of hitched breaths, “god. honey, your cock–” 
It all slides out for a second. Unreal. Then you slam back into her again. Pacing was always the methodical approach, a line into the protocol when Dahyun is writhing in the drag of your cock fucking deep into her cunt, she’s biting her lip at the fact that she’s shimming her legs more out, wanting to choke herself down the length. My god, you’d love to keep the look she has on her face, lips parted at how badly she just wants you to split her in two, seeing the last hint of her pupils rolling back into her brain when you skate the palms of your hands across her stomach, clutching onto her perky breast when the tempo starts to increase. 
When your hands finally nestle into the curve of her hips, they stay there. They’re already at a good place when your cock finally feels all of her, so wet, so tight. A slight throb along the length when you drag yourself out, that small pocket of air escaping before the vice seals shut again. She’s unbelievably perfect, one label off the list from your head when you’re fixed on the sight of your length disappearing inside her, head tilting forward with every stroke back in. 
“You’re so - mmh,” Dahyun hitches her breath, shuddering, you could feel the rise and fall of her chest when your hand clutches her thigh. A choked out sob leaves her lips, and you’re impressed at the composure of nailing her cunt, the same spot being hit deep, even deeper, to that one area where she’s lost herself before. “Fucking big for me, this cock - feels so good-” 
“Dahyun...” you hiss, shifting your hands down to the soft cushion of her ass, sinking down once again, then another, and then another, sliding her out across the counter before you’re driving her back in, this never-ending piston into the fiery pit of heat, stretching her out, twisting that nimble body of hers into your own creation, coaxing every exhale you catch from her abdomen. “Your pussy is so–” 
What you meant to say was, “your pussy is so fucking tight, god damnit-” You know what, the thought can barely even be formed in your head when you meet Dahyun’s eyes, slowly fluttering shut with her teeth slowly disappearing behind her lip. That, and the feeling of her walls imploding your cock to the remnants of awareness you had left. 
It’s also pretty funny to think how Dahyun was fucking herself freely over you just an hour ago, only for her to be used like this and she knows you simply can’t help yourself. 
“Love, I can’t - shit,” that utterance nearly takes everything ouight of you to say; everything about it is euphoric, the way you have her legs up, bottoming her out. You look at her again, and she has her hand over her mouth, trying to fight that natural clench when your cock fills the heat inside her. “You’re so good for me, spreading yourself open like this. Fuck.” 
This is a case that you’ll take to your grave, knowing all of your wife’s body so well to the point that every kiss, thrust, moan, hell even the appearance when she’s like this for you will be more than enough to last as much as possible. Dahyun knows the switch off too - aside from the fact that she’s cock drunk every single fucking time you fuck her brains out - and she loves this. You see it in her pupils, the desperation to tear all the edges apart, the signal for you to finally wreck her in the way that she wants you to. 
“Don’t stop,” she begs, chest heaving heavily when her legs wrap around your waist, propping herself up for you to take her waist into your chest, letting out these songs of pleas that’s encouraging you to get to that edge first. You could feel her body going limp, the support is almost reflexive while your hips continue to pummel her out. 
“You-” you try to say. Fuck. It goes everything against the directive you’ve put yourself in, the noises of your skin clashing with hers, creating this filthy yet harmonious sound that only gets more and more harder. Dahyun’s breathless moans keep you in check when your motions start to get irregular, inconsistent, keeping yourself busy with your mouth all over her chest. “God, Dahyun–” 
“Do it baby,” she whispers into the cuff of your ear, “Keep fucking my pussy. Pound me like this.” Her hand does this simple action, and it’s lethal. All it took was a simple palm to your cheek, it’s filled with little meaning but carries so much intimacy. Moans and grunts continue to slip out while you search for her eyes, feeling that pull in your waist, grip tightening and loosening as you’re mindlessly thrusting. “You’re getting close for me, aren’t you?” 
“Honey,” and at this point you’ve got it all spun out of control, “You feel so fucking good.” 
“I know, baby.” Dahyun ignores your words of affirmation, smirking. “You know what to do.” 
God. She can kill you, bring you back to life, and kill you all over again. Begging was already done before, you’ve fucked her way past her orgasm on mulitiple occasions - using her as your cumdump; doesn’t matter what time of the day or what you’re doing. The endgame was always this: having you completely fucked out in that velvety smooth pussy of hers - all wet and warm enough for you to live in. 
With your teeth gritting and a final huff of air blowing past your nostrils, you cum inside her, filling her sloppy cunt all the way up. 
Dahyun is sinister, it’s not up for a fair debate. When she coos and hums into your ear canal, you’re battling every urge to just wrap your fingers all over the column of her throat, use the remaining bits of pulse in your member to get her screeching. Alas, you hold yourself back while the ropes of cum are spurting around her walls, her mouth also gaping open when the fourth and fifth pulse out your cock weakly. 
There’s this pause soon after, a collection of breath between the two of you that constructs a reconsideration of your choices. Dahyun has this telepathic connection with your mind that makes the connection instantaneous - you don’t say anything because there’s this one look in her eyes, hanging in the atmosphere bathed with afterglow - and she knows. 
When you do slide out of her swollen cunt, there’s a considerable amount of your cum dripping out of her, slapping the tip along the outside of her folds just to tease her before retreating away entirely. The image of her legs spread out and her back laid across the sink will be saved into your memory for you to look on sometime in the future, or maybe even next week. 
“So,” you mutter, shaking off the small jitters of blood loss to the head when you’re massaging Dahyun’s thighs, “Have I paid off my case in due time?” 
Dahyun chuckles, a single finger raised up from the wreck beneath to get a taste, licking her lips following the fingertip. She wiggles up on her hands to sit on the counter again, hair flipped to one side while she lets the shirt fall down to cover her body, “Hate to say it, but you always do.” 
“That’s good to know.” 
“I’m also saying that you could use my help.” 
“Ha Ha,” 
“What? I’m serious.”
“I’m serious. Well so am I.” Dahyun sarcastically says, slapping your hip that makes your cock jump suddenly. You can see the dashes appear on her face when she lets out this simple smile, the eyes disappearing reflecting the same expression on her lips. She could saunter around the courtroom making a solid case for the defense, but no one would know the fact she’s all liquid putty when you have your hands on her like this. “I appreciate the thoughtful offer, but I think someone’s gotta guard the house while I handle work.” 
“I’m gonna hate you by the end of this.” 
“How bout you flip me over and rail my ass on the sink again?” 
You’re starting to curse that concrete jungle a little more by the end of it. 
Okay, to cut to the chase, there might’ve been a slight miscalculation that you had panned out in your head. 
You switch on the TV two days later and Dahyun’s already made her way back to ground zero in the city to handle this case, where it completely spirals into an absolute shitshow. All gloves are off when the story gets released out to the public, scapegoating one of Dahyun’s board members having themselves tangled in an affair with one of the staff. Sure, it could've been an analytical approach to brush off the heat that’s only growing by the second - a shitty attempt you might also think; either way, this trial was crucial for your wife’s firm to win because in the scenario that they lose, all credibility and positive imagery surrounding them will plummet and that equals no more lawyer work for Dahyun. 
She was optimistic at first while on the phone with you, talking about how this case should’ve been a cakewalk to handle, predicting the possible time period of when she should come back home to finally relax with all that hard work paid off temporarily. You’re smiling at the fact that she sounds composed, no hint of stress lying in her tone, riding on that high when you have her bucking into your hips just an hour before her private plane trip to the firm. 
It’s only a matter of time before all of this blows over, you think. Not your fault also when the house feels suddenly empty in the wake of this unexpected catastrophe. 
You’re hearing this definition of a fortnight. As in, Dahyun’s projected time when she could get out of the office and have someone else handle the case on her behalf. A little unusual for her to indulge in the understanding of the term itself, not while you’re making yourself dinner with the chops of onions on the cutting board and the phone being on speaker off to the right side. 
“Two weeks?” you’re asking, the dice of onion cubes being skated off into the pot left to boil while stirring. “That’s a pretty big ask for you to take up with your boss.” 
“Why do you think I’m hitting you with the English lesson?”
“Babe, you’re talking about a term that was used in the freaking 1800s.” you laugh, leaning back on the counter, glass of water in your hand as one of the stupid actions that most people tend to do when talking to their crush. “Would’ve been better if you just said two weeks instead of a fortnight. What do you think I am? Some kid that’s withering their life away over some video game?” 
“There you go again.” She laughs out loud. You can envision the picture of her rolling her eyes at you when you spew out complete nonsense that won’t comprehend in her brain since her lifestyle doesn’t line up with it. 
“Sorry,” you mutter, smirking with a dimple poking out against the touchscreen. “Seriously, when do you think you’re gonna make it back?” 
“Honestly, I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon.” she admits, hearing the click of your tongue over the speaker when you’re accepting the fact that her job might potentially be on the line if she were to leave early. “I know we said two weeks, but in this case-” You can hear her stop short when she clears the lump in her throat before continuing, “This trial might drag on for who knows how long? It might be a few days, two weeks, a month? Everything is laid out for us to fail.” 
“And you won’t.” you tell her, reminding the positives going forward. “Maybe it could look bad, but I’m certain that you’ll do a good enough job with what you have to work with. I’m sure of that.” 
That sigh of relief you hear through the phone. Yeah, you’re right. I get it. A little reassurance goes a long way for someone in her field dealing with that kind of work - not that you would relate or somewhat imagine what it would be like to be in Dahyun’s shoes, but aside from all bad things, you know that she’s headstrong to the point where none of this should even faze her in the first place. 
“You know you can’t go back to the old place, dummy.” you laugh, opening the lid of the pot that unleashes a quick cloud of steam rising above the rim. “Where are you planning on staying in the meantime while working?” 
“Minju has a guest room at her place.” Dahyun answers, “I’d figured that I should tell you this, but I think she and her associate are having a little thing together.” 
“And this is news to me, how?” 
“Because I’ve seen him and her get a lot closer than usual.” she adds, “You do remember that we have this policy that’s strict on relationships around the office–” 
“But you and I, along with some other considerable names and high-ranking figures, are the exception. I know. We’ve been over this story a bunch of times already.” 
Dahyun straightens herself up on the couch over the phone, folding her legs inward on the seat, sighing, smiling. “Are you eating dinner this late?” 
“Well, if you consider ten-thirty to be late to have myself a meal, then yeah, you can call that to be a late dinner.” 
“Rude,” she muses. “Can’t your wife have a little bit of curiosity about your day while being alone? Missing me?” 
“I guess, but there’s nothing to report on my end.” 
She hums, and you can picture the pout she’s putting on whenever you give her an open ended answer that could totally be expanded on if you just put the effort into it. Dahyun knows you're lazy to an extent when it’s off work hours, and she doesn’t blame you for that. “Have you been using your hand to keep yourself occupied while I’m gone, baby?” 
“Sweetie,” you chuckle, tongue against the inside part of your bottom lip when you automatically realize what she’s trying to do - what she’s trying to make you do. “No, we’re not doing this.” 
“Aw, why not?” 
“Because I can only do so much to keep myself sane while you’re not here.” 
“Fine,” Dahyun sighs out in defeat, and you turn off the stove to let the signature dish of your mother’s pork stew cool down before you get to eating. “One last thing,” she starts, “Sana wants a favor from you while I’m not there.” 
“Hmm?” you sound off, getting a small taste test of the minimal viscosity of the soup you just cooked. “What does she need help with?” 
“Just some heavy lifting around her place,” Dahyun answers, yawning. “I told her that she could come by the house to get you and help with whatever she needs.” 
“You’re setting me up, aren’t you.” 
A soft giggle could be heard in the background on Dahyun’s end. It probably shouldn’t mean anything, but a suspicion starts formulating in the back of your head. This could mean one of two things: you’re either fucked for the potential summer, or fucked for the potential summer. 
“Help Sana out tomorrow,” Dahyun instructs. “I don’t think anything bad will happen if you’re stuck with her.” 
Turns out that Dahyun would be right when you do stand at the steps of Sana’s front door, hand at the hip while the few seconds of silence runs the possible uncertainties through your head. 
A swing of the door inward: “Howdy stranger, have my pizza?” 
You get a good look at her. She’s wearing these thinly rimmed glasses, the middle wire sitting nicely on the bridge of her nose. Her long sleeve hugs her shoulders nicely, tugging at the fabric while her other arm is raised on the door. The shorts are also doing a number on you internally, highlighting the ridiculously long legs that has miles and miles of skin, aside from the fact that they appear to be too short (and also pink, but fuck, man.) Cozy, homebody type of vibe, is what you end off with. 
“Hey.” And this comes off as a half-choke in the fumble of words, “Dahyun said that you needed some help?” 
Sana cocks her head off to the side, brows attracted inwardly, lost for a second before she fully realizes the present dilemma that she’d had happen to forget. “Oh, I did ask for a few things.” 
“Fingers crossed your to-do list isn’t full?” 
She does this subtle nod of her head motioning you to come inside, and you hesitate for a second, peering over past her head of brown hair to see the state of the place and here’s how it looks: everything has a very simplistic aesthetic, blank tones of the furnishings and floorboards complimenting each other the more you and her make your ways around the place. Some boxes are still present here and there, half-open, half-closed, like the items in them haven’t found their rightful place amongst the shelves and cupboards and closets between the rooms. Sana mentions also that her and Julie also have similar tastes, but given the fact that they both haven’t been in the place that often because of their work, it’s pretty disappointing to take away. 
“How long have you had this house?” you ask, picking up a picture frame off one of the tables in the living room that has Sana and this other gorgeous girl leaning her head in with hers, you can’t put a name to her, but curiosity will come later when the time is right. 
“Just like you, not that long actually,” Sana answers, rounding past the corner towards the kitchen when you pick up on the lasting trail of her footsteps to meet her at point B. “Julie and I only managed to settle in about a few weeks ago before she went overseas for some big movie project that she’s a part of. Other than that, it’s just been me here all by myself.” 
“That doesn’t sound fun.” 
“I find it calming to have a big house with multiple rooms without the sense of company.” 
Your eyes trail off in the distance of this closed space. It looks barren, but rich, with the sense of presence from all of the different decorations and paintings all over the walls and tables. You might mistake this as a museum, an unplanned exhibit with your neighbor as the centerpiece of this gallery. 
“So,” you start to say, arms cross when you’re watching Sana on the opposite side of the kitchen island, sipping on a glass of strawberry lemonade, looking back at you with wide eyes, those pouty lips on the rim–
She points to the set of disregarded items off to your left side behind, the same set of boxes you noticed when walking in, “I need to get these things out of there and placed around the house,” and she starts to round the area of the kitchen to get closer to you, “and my garage door needs some fixing since it won’t open for some reason” 
“You really think I’m qualified to help you with the garage?” you raise an eyebrow in suspicion. 
“Dahyun asked you to help me, so please, make us happy.” 
The first meeting with Sana happens quite quickly. It should’ve ended there - a simple favor fulfilled and get on with continuing the daily routines around the house and neighborhood. 
Except it doesn’t happen that way. Not when Sana catches your attention when you’re taking out the trash, watering Dahyun’s little growing garden, when you’re getting your morning and evening runs up the hill and round the block, she always seems to get you caught in her lines of sight. 
You’re not against it however, taking a liking to have a quick chat with Sana about different things that were worth bringing up - it’s the simple camradire that’s developed rapidly after the housewarming party. She’s interested to see you with the garage open, finding a new thing to tinker and fix with the car (although modding a tesla would make some vehicle enthusiasts want to rip out their hair and gouge their fucking eyeballs,) she just makes the minute trip from her house over to yours just to talk. 
Dahyun’s calls circulate every now and then, getting the quick rundown of what’s been happening while she’s knee-deep in trial work down at the firm. You simply smile while tapping on the camera switch icon on facetime to have her look at the group of Sana, Jihyo and her summer flirt, Mina, along with a few others just have a communal game night of Mario Kart down at Sana’s place when everything is settled in. Before that, you were explaining the fascination of this ancient city that you’ve been reading into between business calls and graph inputs during work that may sound like you’re a boring professor talking about history. 
None of that would matter because Sana’s house is like this ancient city that’s riddled with riches and items of materialistic value that would probably convince someone else that their money is being wasted over meaningless items rather than propper investments. You get a few nods of agreement, maybe some fingersnaps because what you’re saying could be plausible with the amount of knowledge you’ve consumed to tell without boring everybody. 
“I could care less if that were the case,” Sana says, leaning closer on the couch while running a hand through her hair, the flowy locks combined with that cropped Prada shirt could have you reeling in an alternate universe, but it doesn’t. 
“Sana,” you call out, Jihyo’s also giggling at the fact before you even say it also, “your walk in closet is literally the devotion of this ‘city of gold’ I’m talking about.” 
“Hey!” and she’s taking this with a light offense, “I only say that it’s true because where else am I supposed to put the dresses?” 
“I suppose they could go somewhere else that doesn’t take up space in the racks?” 
“You’re the one who helped me put them up anyway!” 
“Don’t get all defensive now because I’m talking about it.” 
She cracks this smile while Mina sounds off with a ‘boo’ noise, “You can take your little history tangent up your ass then.” 
To that, you raise an open bottle of White Owl to her face, downing a bit of the drink while she rolls her eyes, narrowing while she purses her lips. She’s lining her fingers across the bottom of her chin, intuitively, studying the movements of your hands and eyes, getting a read of what makes you tick. 
Even after the activities of game night are all wrapped up, you stay behind in Sana’s house, picking up the assortments of empty glasses and bottles, the charcuterie board that’s scavenged through, except the stack of cheese that was apparently stale and too cold to even dig their teeth in. 
“Care for some cereal?” Sana prompts after the final sweep. 
“You’re asking me to have a night breakfast?” 
“You’re making it sound like it’s something to be frowned upon.” 
“Then why the paradoxical proposal?” 
She doesn’t bother answering that with a simple hum while you’re chuckling lowly. There’s already two bowls on the counter, and not long after, she’s holding out two boxes: Frosted Flakes and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. 
“I like the choices.” you tell her, placing yourself on one of the high chairs while Sana slides one of the boxes over with the jug of milk trailing just behind it. You snap a picture of yours and Sana’s bowls to send over to Dahyun and in which she responds in three seconds - you fell for the cereal bait tactic. 
What? I got courted with Frosted Flakes and you know this, they’re great. 
She did the same thing to me back in college, but that’s her ‘ol reliable’. 
Sana swipes your phone from your hand that you try to get back, but she skips a few feet away and starts to text in your place. “What are you texting Dahyun about?” 
“Why does it matter to you?” 
“That’s my phone you’re using.” 
Sana parts her mouth open, humming once, “I’m too lazy to grab mine from the living room.” 
“You’re texting my wife.” you deadpan. 
“She was mine first before you came along.” 
You roll your eyes. Ouch. But you sigh once the defeat settles itself back in over you. All that you’re just left to do is get these soggy, milky grains down before you eventually pack it up for the night. 
“Thanks again for staying back to help,” Sana tells you on the front step of her yard, “worth the treat of cereal as a reward.” 
“Nice to have some company, especially when there’s video games that make me feel like a careless child again.” 
“We’re all a little starved for a little fun, glad I contributed to that reach of youth.” 
And this comes out of nowhere, really, you miss Dahyun around the house and it’s felt like ages since you’ve last seen her. 
Sana has her knuckles against her cheek, the fingers are well refined, she has that glow on her face and that small hint of a dimple that breaks out underneath and well - that same pout you saw last time breaks into this perfect grin of hers that’s filled with uncut happiness, the way her eyes arch into that same eye smile Dahyun has really makes you think twice about your situation. 
It’s embarrassing, but you miss Dahyun while there’s this small crush of Sana growing inside you. Going against your vow might be one thing, but your heart can’t help itself to only tell you over your mind - well shit. Congrats. 
Though, she’s reeling you back in after seeing Hailey’s comet above, calling your name that makes you unsure if you even know your own name. 
“Will you be busy for the rest of the week?” She prompts. 
“You can just come past the gate and ring the doorbell, I’ll always answer.” 
Sana doesn’t say anything more than that, only giving you the usual ‘good night’ message before she sends you off on your way, just a few feet to the side and behind another door. 
Some weeks pass. It’s late, and hot. The combination of this nightly hot climate doesn’t serve anyone well. 
You hear a knock at the door that has you scratching your head over the fact on who would be at your front doorstep around this time. All of that gets thrown out the window when you look up past the column of wood to see Sana standing there, bundled up in gray sweats and an oversized sweater that’s draping her frame, two sizes too big, her shoulder noticeable to see. She has nothing else on or with her besides the phone in her hand. 
“It’s the middle of the night,” you announce, squinting at the light towering over you and her in the front patio of the house, letting out a sigh while Sana just wiggles her body side to side, acting all innocent knowing that she knows what she’s doing. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping already?” 
Sana finds your reactions to be funny. For every question, you give her a simple or calculated answer. A greeting in the morning or afternoon would be short and sweet ending off with ‘let me know if you ever need anything’ before heading back inside with the daily mail or some vacuum or bundle of rags to clean from the garage. Every blurt or sexual comment would send you coughing or spitting out some of your water when Sana’s dropping by to see what you were doing. Most girls other than Dahyun in her position would be automatically disinterested, not your fault for being naturally dry and introverted.  
“Julie crashed at Natty’s place, so I managed to drive myself back home.” Sana replies with a pull of her lips, breaking a sly grin when you return the same nod, prompting her to come inside because it wouldn’t be like you to keep a beautiful girl from around the neighborhood just standing outside your doorstep. 
The hums that come out of Sana’s mouth are refreshing, in addition to the little swing of her head back and forth when she moves past the first lounge area of your house to between the dining table and kitchen where she stops short for a second, looking off to the left, formulating a thought. You had the lights dimmed around the place, but you catch the silhouette of her side profile while a hand is behind her back, like one of those poses that she did for a magazine not too long ago that she shared when you finished up moving the last bits of her boxes. 
“Why come to my place?” you ask, flicking a light switch that brightens the area right outside leading up to the backyard. “Are you that bored around your house that you just walk over to mine?” 
“Not denying that I’m bored,” Sana amends, turning towards you again, “just wanted to give you some company.” 
“Sana, it’s late.” 
“Remind me again,” she pouts, the lift of her eyebrows makes you slightly cringe, “How long has Dahyun been busy with her work and that trial of hers?” 
“Last I heard from her was that she’s almost done closing off the settlements.” 
“Good, and you haven’t been losing your mind over the fact that your wife’s not with you.”
“Can I live normally while Dahyun gets to play the main breadwinner in the relationship?” 
Sana coos after that. She keeps this longing gaze at you while you’re returning the same fix on her. The end point of her nose, the lines of her cheek, that over peeking collarbone when she sweeps her hair from the front to the back with a little flip; you tell her that the downtime you were mainly focused on was trying to get back to sleeping, but the damn heat was the main excuse and to that she laughs, scrunching her face when she can see right through the poorly constructed lie. 
It’s distracting, the small rumbling of this breaking desire - makes you feel uncertain in how you should approach the current dwindling situation.  
Falling off the curve, however, Sana asks you:  “Do you mind if I can take a swim in your pool?” 
This should be a page in the history books, ripped away and shrouded in the shadows, never to be disclosed to anyone else that isn’t yourself. 
It’s also completely harmless when you’re mindlessly handing Sana one of your spare towels sitting in the bathroom, smiling sincerely when she accepts the simple item of hospitality with the add on of, if you also need some extra clothes to wear because you dipped your feet in the pool with the overhanging flared sweatpants of yours getting stained, I can lend you a pair while it dries up - pick it up tomorrow or have it dropped off- 
She floats her way down the steps, towel over her shoulder, “I’d take an extra pair of pants to use after I finish, thank you.” 
You nod, letting herself like at home as if her own home wasn’t only less than five seconds away next to yours. The glass sliding door opens up to the balcony when you finally hear the light crash of water being made from the floor below. 
There’s something calming about the light blue glow being illuminated from the pool, looking up at the different stars and constellations with today’s moon being somewhat of a mix between a half moon slowly transitioning into a crescent. Dahyun was also with you in this same position after the first night of moving in, pointing out the basic lines of the Big Dipper and the Alpha Centauri, you showing her Orion’s belt before she made a counterargument that it wasn’t a freaking belt, but it just goes to show that you’re just counting the days down until Dahyun gets back from brining the trial win home. 
Looking down, you just see Sana the singular hint of honey brown sitting on the edge of the pool before slowly dipping in, getting the ends of her hair wet before tying it up in a high bun and happily floating in place, sighing while the refreshing yet, cool temperature of water settle around her body. 
The room of your study looks tempting to set up base camp, not the worst option to consider also as a form to keep yourself occupied while your bubbly neighbor was right outside your backyard swimming in the night. 
(God’s really picking and choosing your battles in any way that he pleases, huh?)
You stay the course, grabbing a quick bottle of Heiniken from the fridge when you’re seeing the sight of Sana’s shoulders and arms breaking the flow of water, her head just above the turquoise surface, the light shining beneath her face to get a good glimpse of her rosy cheeks, those lips tugged at the ends of them in a soft smile, the line of her neck also doing you numbers than the beverage in your hand before you’ve even got a propper sip. 
Sana looks towards the back of the house, you raise the bottle up to let her know that you’re still here, noticing the pile of clothes on one of the lounge chairs, neatly folded with her phone as the cherry on top. 
Here’s where you make mistake #1: The second bottle in your left hand needs a drinker, and you step your way out into the boardwalk of your pool. A missing piece of detail that you completely ignored was how Sana’s pile of clothes was lacking one vital part–
“I find it to be pretty peculiar for my wife’s friend to be skinny dipping in my pool at around this hour.” you inform Sana of the situation, to which she softly laughs at the observation while you’re kneeling at the edge, placing the two bottles off to the side that you’ll get back to later. 
Sana floats her way to the edge of the pool right next to you, arms hanging on the deep end while looking up, “Didn’t think I needed the necessary layers, no?”
“You want to tell me about layers when you’re wearing nothing underneath.” 
“Where’s the fun in having swimsuits and trunks?” she teases, “it’s too much of a hassle for me to go through the exhausting process of changing in your spare bathroom that’s miles away from the pool.”
“There was literally a bathroom for you next to the kitchen that you passed by to get here.“
“Why don’t you join me? The pool’s too big to have one person inside.” 
No. No. Don’t even think about–
“And if I refuse?” you ask quickly, naively. 
Sana leans her head back, and your eyes can’t help in anything besides fucking you up. The waves of the water cleared up, returning to its calm, idle state where you catch the highlighted sallow skin against the light, catching her hips and legs flowing freely. She lets her lower body rise up to the surface, hands still alongside the edge almost as if she’s lounging on the nearby chairs - it also hits you that she’s doing it on purpose, the fact that her bare ass is just out in the open air for you to see–
Right on cue, mistake #2: you sit down nicely, criss-cross like a little kid; and Sana scoots herself to where you’re sitting, closely, dangerously. 
“I’ve got some pull for you to rethink, take my offer into some light consideration.” she muses, and the leaning closer coming from you is seriously not helping. She’s got her hand laying below your knee, and she might as well be right under you with the ground advantage. 
That same lean is also curious; it’s also pretty familiar too - how the natural state of gravity works, Dahyun reeled you in to some similar form a long while ago - forget if or maybe if the fact she looked first or you looked first, it doesn’t matter. One key difference between that event and now was the fact that you realize that you’ve toppled over and into the swimming pool, clothes still on and everything, the brisk feeling of water washing over before you find yourself breathing, ears getting flushed out and replaced with Sana’s sweet laugh to top if all off. 
You swipe your hands through your soaked face, slowly floating to the shallow end while cringing at the present moment that just occurred. The blend on your shirt and sweats mold to your figure, like someone had slapped clay on you. Chlorine is not good for the eyes, obviously, so keep rubbing your eyes and clearing out any sinuses while telling Sana that you’re not inviting her in the next time after this night. 
Sana has this effect on people, so natural and open to the point with others that she’s hugging everyone and doing skinship as she pleases, you’re not far off from the latter, in fact–
“I thought you’d be a little more vocal with the fact I pulled you in,” she tells you, turning away slightly when you splash a hint of water as she approaches you. 
“It’s cold,” you say blankly, slicking your hair back while Sana closes the distance. Sly smile and everything. 
“That’s all you have to say?” she asks, “So dry.” 
“Aside from the fact that you’re swimming naked in my pool, I think there’s more pressing issues for me to take care of.” 
Pressing issues noted, Sana is well within arms reach, except you have another look at her charming face, her body under the water - she’s well defined in all avenues, fair skin that would even rival Dahyun’s for a quick comparison, her hands continue to do their own thing when they’re measuring the shape of your middle, fingertips grazing the soaked shirt and all. 
“I’m sorry” she breathes out, the faintest apology of them all. 
You’ve got your arms around her waist, not a care to fully realize what you’re actually doing; it’s a collapse in real time, her hand to the back of your neck: mistake #3. 
With a simple press of her lips on yours, she grips tightly, the draw of air clouding the intoxicating taste that has you humming a bit, the slide of her fingers down the line of your jaw before going off the rails with replacing the hand with a full on arm, hooking onto your neck while you move up to her upper back. 
But this inferno was unraveling. 
Her legs fill the gap between yours, hands are now on both sides of her face, thumb sliding across that prominent cheek bone that will have you sculpting out the details some other time. She’s kissing you like she wanted this to happen, the desperation, hunger even, like it would be the last thing needed over everything else, and you’d give that to her. It’s all sinking, that box of thoughts that was supposed to stay at the bottom of the ocean, the sealed lock intact and with no key to open, it’s resurfacing like the breaths of air you and Sana share with your faces just centimeters away from each other. 
“Do you think you can forgive me?” she stops to ask. 
A fucking truck of reasoning is what hits you, pulling back even more but your hands are now keeping Sana in place, just right above her ass holding at the hips. “Yes- no-” She pulls you in for another convincing kiss before another could be stolen on her cheek, the same sigh she sounded in your throat a few seconds ago comes around. “I don’t know anymore.” 
“It’s okay to not know.” Sana’s face softens when you can’t even bother to look her in the eyes now, tilting your chin up to support, lightly stroking it. “We probably shouldn’t.” 
She’s right. You’ve got to end this and you have to end it now.
“But what if we did?” You’re left breathing, in disbelief. 
“Would you want to find out?” Sana asks again, unsure but also confident. “There’s this kind of luxury I’m fascinated with discovering the unknown.” 
You’re thinking of these different stories in your head, the different kinds of graphs and tables riddled with numbers trying to come up with a logical case, predicting a scenario where you could forget about all of this, count the days until you won’t be alone again with the right person. Except Sana is dishing out all of these simple motions that have you leaning in for more, yearning. A hand is being slid across the shoulder, her face is suddenly closer with yours when you pull her towards you. “I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t afraid.” 
“Don’t feel bad,” she tells you, a comforting whisper, wisping in the breeze. “You’ll be able to catch on quickly.” 
(If there was anything that you’ve noticed while starting this new chapter: you’ve learned that the sly smile armed by Minatozaki Sana will have anybody flipping over, ruining lives and starting fires.) 
All common sense gets tossed out of the pool when you kiss her again, a choice that will have its own consequences when the time is right, the floodgates of sin opening harshly while you've just signed your one-way ticket straight to hell.
Another thing that you learn from the houses that are oozing with richness up and down the street is that money and sex have powerful selling points. 
This may be subject to change, but when you have an art piece like Sana stolen from the museum of her house (figuratively), all fingers and charges point toward theft, the necessary offenses that follow after don’t really matter as of right now. 
It’s not that difficult for you to fall in a place like this: carrying Sana up the steps but only stopping short at the doorway when she’s lapping her tongue into your mouth. She’s still wet in your hands from the pool, and you have the wall play as a part to keep her in place - the fit of your lips breaking apart before they find themselves again. 
“Mmm,” Sana hums into your mouth when you finally let her down, on the balls of her feet while your hands wrap around her waist again, knee lightly nudging the apparent line of your cock with the pads of her fingers soon after, testing it. 
“Hey,” you mumble, pulling away with an audible smack from her lips, tongue licking your mouth while she softly laughs, and again - it’s definitely on purpose when her hand palms your cock more firmly through the soaked sweatpants that has you gasping for a millisecond. “Trying to get on with it faster now, are we?” 
Her hand sets itself on your chest, eyes meeting with hers half-lidded, she knows what she’s doing, she knows that this is wrong, and she most definitely knows that this is on purpose. You tilt your  head more deeper only for her to stop you for not more than two seconds, before easily allowing you to kiss her once again. 
“Who’s leading?” Sana laughs at herself, still stark naked when your hands land at the rise of her hip, massaging the slope of her ass with the droplets of water gliding across your palms. “Wouldn’t be right of me to do all of the hard work, begging at the fact that you’re about to fuck me over in this huge house, get your fingers inside and finally have that perfect dick that Dahyun always talks about.” 
“She told you?”
“Much like every time we catch up. Always.” 
“What do you know so far?” 
Sana sighs when you kiss her again, the lines on her face softening like a flush of anxiety that suddenly went away in a matter of a second. Your hand is quick to travel to the back of her head, pull the elastic of her hair tie that lets her locks flow down while the counterpart is palming her warm, bare cunt, eliciting a slight gasp while you’re smiling into her skin. “She- she told me that you were disappointing the first time y-you guys did it.” 
“Oh?” you mutter, thumb tapping on her clit that makes her whole body stiffen while the pad of your middle finger slowly scoops under her folds, noting how much she’s gotten slick in the short span of time. “The inexperience was the main factor.” 
Another finger pushes inside, feeling the stretch while your ear receives the steady decline of Sana’s breaths, lip being pulled inward by the upper row of her teeth while her chest heaves, the heat becoming too unbearable to handle. She’s not one to let you take the easy route, putting her lips back with yours while you scoop under her luscious ass, walking past the doorway and into the bedroom - a space where Dahyun’s appearance was the common one - now introducing a newcomer that will make her case to stay. 
The landing on the bed isn’t gentle, and Sana slightly sets herself up on one elbow, while you’re tugging the sopped clothes off your body, trying to get a read into this pretty woman’s eyes of the things you want to do to her. You’ll make her cum, flip her into the mattress, have her bouncing on your cock later, get her whimpering while you drink in the sight of her pretty face just blown out, euphoric, the writing’s already on the wall before you even get a chance to draw the pen. 
“You think I’m gonna disappoint you with my performance? Maybe prove that Dahyun’s point still stands?” you ask her, making your space bigger over hers when you’re on top of her, pulling from the hips to get her to meet your thighs. Sana bites her lip in a short excitement, keeping her gaze on yours when her fingers finally wrap around your cock, giving a few experimental pumps while she spreads wider, opening the gates to an avenue that will have you packing your bags to the next house over. “Imagine if–”
“I’ll make you shut up about your worries, now fill my pussy up. With your fingers, your cock, just anything, please.” 
She’s desperate for you, and you have to admit it too, but when that first rush of every single sensation registering in your mind from the very instant you have your cock wrapped around her, sliding inside those lines with the small tug of your hips, pushing more while you could feel nails rip into your skin. 
It’s a new entry of data, the approach of how Sana’s pussy is downright perfect for you. There’s a slight throb, a misfire when the strokes are still hesitant, uncertain exchanges of breaths with the slow blinks between her eyes and yours. Uninviting, but all the more welcoming with her walls, clinging into the deeper ends of her cunt, breaking down the imaginary lines of numbers and rope circling through your head. 
“My, fuck–” and you also choke out something too when she says that, the muted cry she let out while you take a moment to readjust, sliding out before you yank Sana’s hips onto your cock again. “T-this is everything.” 
Like you need the exposition on the term everything. All of your worries wash away when you thrust more ferociously, the internal bomb in your brain ticking away the time every single speck of seconds that passes through burying your cock inside her. You’re nowhere near gentle at this point, the squeeze that has you mirroring Sana’s “hnns” over the claps of your thighs with hers, taking advantage of the arch in her back by hooking your arms underneath while one of her long legs locks around you. 
“So good,” she just groans out, relishing in the feeling of it. “Don’t stop–” 
You’re also not safe from it either, fingers resting alongside her midriff where her hands are placed on top, grasping at the new angle of your hips where it has her wheezing, the fresh spot of heat hitting the base also making your lose your sense of awareness, reduced to nothing but just a desolate being of a husband that’s throwing their marriage away. 
Her creaming cunt only keeps you focused, the pretty sounds and remarks coming out of her mouth has you giving her expressions of confusion, lust, shock, and maybe that longing look of when you see someone at first sight and it just kills you, right then and there. The sheets come undone, a pillow is used as a secondary support underneath her back, a clutch of the tit and she does this simple evil grab of your hips while you’re ruthlessly pounding into her helpless body, utilized as a vice the more you hold your end of the bargain. 
“Sana, you’re–” and again, the mind blanks out of this small blurb of praise before she just giggles for her response, fucking her so throughly that you’re running the different combinations of tempos to get her even more ruined, fucked dumb, maybe even have her begging to be used over your cock like this again soon - the eventuality of that notion will be all too apparent when the sun rises the next morning. 
She just clings to you, keeping your hips in motion while her hands cup around your face once more, pulling inward for that press of lips all over again like the beginning. You feel the wobbling lip, a thumb quick to keep her coaxing while she whimpers in absolute bliss. 
“I want you,” she huffs, and you’re falling through the cracks with every steady stroke of your cock between the opening of her legs, “to make me cum. Make a mess out of me and this pussy.” 
You’re taking shelter between her mounds, not wanting to look up in pension for the cardinal sins committed tonight, lips swiping up and down her neck that has Sana moan out in approval, the clamp of her walls tightening every return back to the bottom, her hands are over your back, tracing lines, fantasizing. She’s a fucking waterfall every thrust you take. 
“I’m- fuck–you’re gonna–gonna make me cum so fucking hard.” you feel the pulse impending, the muffled squeak that she makes in your lips, she’ll be the first to fall. That eruption happens fast, the spasm and tighter grab in her walls around you while she’s crying for now. 
Nothing could’ve prepared you for this incident, a flashpoint in time that was probably bound to happen, fucking Sana in the walls of your own bedroom this hard– “You’re something else, just like you were meant to have me like this, God.” 
“Keep fucking me like this - god that feels so good, You and your cock it’s-” she huffs, barely smiling. She can see you slipping, at the edge, the litany of moans sounding like a siren out at sea. That mess she requested, you’ll give it to her, bury your cock in the deepest depths where it shouldn’t even be humanly possible, where the molten hot walls are bursting the thickness of your head, grinding out every cell and fiber - it’s possible. “Fuck, that’s so hot when you’re all fucked out for me.” 
“Sana,” you say, and she has your hand over her tongue, licking up the thumb, and you’ll swear that it’ll do damage to you for centuries. 
“Mhm,” she responds nicely, the last bit of the hum coming out as a hitched whimper, “Cum inside me.” 
That’s how she’ll want to do things. If she wants something, she’ll get it. You do the same amount of damage to her like she did to you while she’s begging, whimpering, getting all of the lovely noises of being fucked out to oblivion out of her mouth until she’s leaking - washing you over, from the legs, to the pillows and sheets. Stretching her out perfectly, get her to slur out phrases that she would say normally on occasions not like this, only to come back around and have you fill in between the gaps. 
You slip, she slips, it won’t matter, because you or her will make the catch, that extra push deep, maybe harder. The velvety drag already has you addicted to her, the sight of her body above this hips was just the plus. 
“God, Sana. So fucking wonderful.” you snarl against the line of her cheek, one last final dip that has your cum flooding deep into her warm, velvety cunt. 
The throbs of your cock has Sana mumuring softly, saying something like - yes, yes, keep fucking your cum into me, so that I can feel it - nice and hot, god yes. 
You slide out halfway, and her hips buck from the tender motion while your hands rub her thighs. And you also black out for a second when a few more spurts coat her walls even more, the pullout quick for a fist around the head of your cock, covering her waist in the remaining bits of cum still left inside you - well fucked and sloppy. 
Sana’s eyelids flutter shut, your hand rubbing along the oblique of your hips, that sense of desire finally fading away when you fully realize what had just transpired in the past hour or so. The lights are off in the house with the illuminating glow of the moon breaking through the window, tinnitus ringing in your eardrums and your eyes are fixated on Sana again, cross-eyed on the cum-soaked fingers she has, taking the liberty of sucking on them shamelessly, and the fucking noises she makes has your jaw to the floor. 
“Thank you,” she says, sweetly, innocently, sitting up on the bed with her legs crossed, the trail of cum still apparent on her stomach. “You certainly did not disappoint.” 
You, my friend, are entirely fucked. 
“What’s gonna happen to us now?” you ask her, rubbing your face and shaking your head in disapproval while Sana cleans the rest of herself up with her fingers. “I think we made–”
“Did I not tell you to worry?” Sana’s quick to shut you down, her look cross while you don’t even bother to meet her in the eye. This is supposed to feel wrong, it shouldn’t feel like anything else besides that. She scoots herself over to you with a quick kiss to your cheek, one that you accept openly, but still feel pensive over. 
“We can talk about it later,” she says, sliding herself into the rumpled sheets, patting down the open space next to her. “Would you mind if I stay the night? In your room? And in your bed?” 
“I can’t really turn down that offer,” you laugh, following along with a hand trailing up the side of her figure, giving a meaningful press of lips to the spot of her hair, “I actually like the company now.” 
“Would you also mind if I want it later when I can’t sleep?” 
“I’m seriously gonna hate you for this when we’re done.” 
“But I’m asking nicely.” she says, and hums this sweet tone when you lay next to her, feeling her ass shimmying against your cock underneath. “You’ll say yes,right?”
“Keep up with the needy act, and maybe I’ll have to fuck the want right out of you.” 
Sana rolls herself on top of you, finger tracing the lines of your face again, sketching, the bottom of her lip tugged by a pair of teeth. There’s that sly smile again, mischievous. It’s the reality now, she’s won you over. 
“Consider it a gift for you.” she adds, kissing you again before she goes slack on your chest, the wave of sleep finally setting in. 
(This actually comes later when you can’t dream a wink, staring up at the high ceiling: 
It only takes little effort for someone to make a house into a home - and you learn to the best extent possible, Sana slots in that missing piece where Dahyun is supposed to fill - without even fully realizing it. 
Her and Dahyun are two sides of the same coin, both give you this sense of ease and confusion that has you looking off while they’re trying to hide the inevitable laughs. They’re both also moodmakers with the way they look at you with the earnest smile, a reminder of one and the other that you’re not too far behind to follow. 
Every nick of the mouth moving, the glint in their eyes that will break you down from the shackles of rational thoughts while the springs in your bed are supporting the absolute fucking you’re doing over them. 
Maybe this summer will be saved after all.) 
When the crack of dawn breaks through the sunrise, you’re trying to recollect what little thoughts you have left of your deteriorating marriage; as in, what’s gonna happen to you when Dahyun finds out you’ve slept with her close friend who just happens to live in the house right next door, aside from other things. This space was now tainted in the heinous acts you’ve committed but the only thing that was filling the front of your mind was the amount of work emails you saw on your phone while waking up. 
“You’re just gonna leave me here in the bed all alone?” Sana asks, your back still turned to her when you mindlessly flick up the switch to your bathroom. 
A simple spin on the ball of your heel, and the image is just majestic to witness. 
This 5’3 brunette that’s all sunshine and rainbows, replaced by a deity that oozes sexiness and uncapped lust, lays on the side of her frame with an elbow propped up to support her head, hair still having that post-fuck frizziness to it, the sheets are covering most of her middle, but that outreaching left leg exposed, folds in, and you catch that slope of her hip, her ass is also not that far behind to look over. 
You already know her body all too well. If you could put someone that’s remotely close to the Greek god of Aphrodite, Sana would come very close to that. 
“Are you really expecting yourself to stay here?” you ask, fishing for your toothbrush before washing it with one hand, the other grabbing the minty toothpaste that was adjacent to it in the cup. “You know that I have work, not to mention working at home too.” 
You watch from the doorway when she sits up, the romp of her sheets falling over in front that shows that pale chest, her firm breasts that lay beneath her fine collarbones, there’s a new set of hickeys - the hickeys, showing your favorite spot to soothe her while she’s wailing in your arms, the rise and fall of her shoulders every breath let out has another wanting bite of her swollen lips. 
“Is it too much to keep you company?” she asks again, tugging on the comforter, hoping that she’ll get the right answer out of you.
“It’s not that I mind about the company of you, it’s the fact that others would get suspicious.” you retort, placing down the brush filled toothpaste on the counter, “That’s the last thing that I want to happen.” 
“How long has Dahyun been at trial with her firm?” 
“At least a couple weeks at this point.” 
“That’s what I thought.” 
“You need to go home.” 
“But your place is a lot nicer than mine, clean also.” she smiles, looking up little by little when you approach her on the edge of the bed. A hand is outreached with hers, and it’s damning how well it fits with yours, the automatic reflex of brushing your thumb over the highest peak of her middle knuckle. You don’t even flinch at the fact that she’s moved your hand over to her breast, tracing her nipple. It’s not hard to ease into these seductive advances, softly chuckling at the way Sana’s tit has a sort of weight to them - perky, but impossible to resist. 
“What am I gonna do with you?” you ask yourself, a little loudly for Sana to hear too, “I have to get ready.” 
“Breakfast on the table?” 
“Have you freshen up before you do the walk of shame next door.” you whisper, helping her up, swooping under her legs in a bridal carry. The tangle of her hairs on your chest when she leans her head in, laughing, the smell of citrus and lingering sweat. “The comforter was too heavy and hot anyway.” 
Sana just giggles, waving her feet in the air, into the bathroom where her skin glows a little bit lighter. “What’s the point of having that open room next to yours if it’s not used?” 
(There’s a lot of questions that don’t get answered. Partly because Sana can’t concentrate while you’re kneeling between her legs in the shower, lapping away at her clit, washing away any slick that’s left out; her fingers are splayed out across the tile, slipping, dripping away from her hips. 
You also shouldn’t be whispering these sweet nothings into her ear either, kissing her as if in another reality, maybe this too, could be a thing. It isn’t fair, it’s not right. She comes off as urgent, hoping to keep your mind off of the responsibilities sitting at your desk for just a little while longer. “Don’t do this to me.” That’s a plea, your mouth hovering over her neck, she has your dress shirt draped over her on the kitchen island with her knees apart again, filling in the space while she’s all porcelain teeth and warm tongue. She tugs on your lips like she wants every last bit of you, and it’s not worth fighting for. Her mouth gets on the cuff of your ear, and she whispers this spell, a curse rather, impending your fate even more: 
“I think you know all of the things that I would do to you.”) 
Fucking Sana has its own luxury. 
This living art piece wandering about in your house where no one else knows. She comes to your place, you go to hers, it’s a trade off that’s very easy to do when you’re just a few steps away from each other’s doors. 
We could also talk about benefits. The benefits. She asks for a couple favors - a helping hand to clean the house (yours or hers) as an example - you have some requests of your own, mostly to just have a quick bite of her cooking or pull some aged alcohol that was gifted to you a long while ago, half  the bottle already gone before the end of one night. It usually ends up with you sinking inside of her, caressing her gentle body, kissing the nape of her neck when your hips mesh with hers perfectly. 
It’s a new fun that’s profound in yourself. This super popular model that has every hot contact of companies you could name off the top of your head in her phone, taking a quick hiatus for some ‘me’ time. She’s got a solid income, her closet is full of brands that you take note of to give to Dahyun later down the line, and the sex man, it’s just fucking- well, terrific. 
If having Sana all to yourself was the prime exclusivity in its own right, the girls she invites over make everything much more interesting, just aside from the fact that she comes unannounced most of the time. Oh, and that girl in her picture framed back at her place, Chou Tzuyu, she’s a real sweetheart. You’ll have her tag along with Sana no matter what time of the day it is (or night, because you’ll always be free outside of work when it counts). 
Sana usually stays in your house more compared to hers, and she usually seeks you out first with a longing press of lips on yours. Tender, sweet, before you get into the best part of your regular business day, bending her over the nearest piece of furniture and dumping a nice hot load between her thighs while she goes on doing whatever you need her to do around the house to keep herself busy. 
She doesn’t let you have your way that easily. There’s this business call you’re doing, talking about how the numbers don’t really add up for this list of statistic report you were handed an hour prior, trying to fight the gravity of your head leaning forward–
“Sana, your fucking mouth. So good, jesus.” you mutter, cradling her head while she taps your cock on her perfect lips, laving her tongue over before she dips down again, pushing you past the tightness of her throat. 
–of the very person pushing your thighs apart underneath the desk when she primes at the very angle, bobbing her head slowly while maintaining that hypnotic friction of her hand over your shaft. 
You hit the key binded to the mute button on the call, not giving a single ear of the person in the session rambling about well, if we could get an extra day or two with the new inputs for the program, then maybe we the numbers that are put together can line up with the graph - ‘and, let me get this straight–’ 
“Mmph, god.” You’re broken down to just a few simple actions, combing Sana’s hair, guiding her silkly mouth onto your cock, and she doesn’t let up the fucking pace. You’ve got your fingers intertwined with hers on your thigh, not giving a care of how she’s so persistent to get you off like this, choking, drawing back for some air - her pinky and ring finger moving in this motion on the tip that has you shuddering. 
“Such a fucking hard worker,” she says, biting her lip, the glare in her eyes that’s nearly demonic while her tongue slips along the underside and upper part of your cock. “How could you talk so calmly while your dick is in my mouth?” 
“I’ve had practice before,” you answer, slightly smirking at the memory of Dahyun doing the exact same to you long ago, it’s no different.
Keeping it together wasn’t the option anymore, while the rush of Sana’s mouth is drawn back to you, proceeding with the online meeting as planned, discussing the future plans delegated to your coworkers. Too bad that they can’t hear the litany of gurgles and gags happening below your desk, struggling to not use one hand and keep Sana buried under there, watching with that lustful look in your eyes when she knows you’re about to pop, the shake of your leg as the sole hint to what she needs before putting both hands into the mix, all wet while every ounce of focus gets diluted to the ceiling. 
The meeting eventually ends while groaning at Sana’s throat bottoming you out, spilling inside that heat with a weak buck of your hips, shoving everything into her where your balls meet her chin. It just happens, more and more; her mouth is so fucked for you that some of the cum gets on her teeth when you slide out of her. The worst part: you’re still fucking leaking, getting it on her bottom lip, another rope above her eyebrow; the splatter doesn’t even end when she lightly presses a thumb down at the base and you get another drop to her cheek - it still isn’t fair when she wraps her fingers around, lightly stoking while your entire lower half of your body is still twitching once the work is all done. 
Sana can be evil, but she goes back to being a bundle of joy when she plants a kiss to the tip, pushing your chair back and kisses you back on the lips, wiping some remnants of your cum from your lips onto her fingertip while she sucks them cleanly. “Productive call?” 
“Got a few more clients to talk to, but thanks. I needed that.” you sigh, fingers on her chin to assess the proof, nodding Sana off to go ahead and wash up before cooking lunch. 
“You still want the usual meal?” 
Sana goes away for a few days, and the place gets hollow again. 
You have the phone in your ear with your manager to talk about potential vacation time (talk about great timing too), and with a press of a button on the TV, you see the headline on the channel broadcast: 
Dahyun and her firm won the trial. Which means that she’s finally coming home.
Dahyun’s homecoming is a bit short lived when you wait for her right on the street, her personal chauffeur rolling away while she’s walking to you with a duffel bag, a carry-on luggage, and her briefcase that she sets down before jumping into your arms. She smells soapy, a nice tinge of lavender when you bury your nose into the midpoint of her collar and neck. You tell her that you’re proud, give her the necessary congrats before dishing out the reassurance that you didn’t burn the goddamn place down while she was out saving her own job. 
“You didn’t miss much,” you say, watching Dahyun take a longing bite of the salmon dish you cooked for her, the hum of approval with that smile you’ve missed so much for god knows how many weeks has it been. “Besides the fact that you were saving your career, I kept myself busy with the projects at mine.” 
“Really,” she starts, “I would think that you’d drive yourself insane up until I finally managed to get back. That racing sim setup would literally drive your attention away from me, so I thought that was one of the things to keep you busy.” 
“I didn’t even have the whole thing unboxed yet,” you manage, swiping her glass of water for you to drink out of while she drives the knife into the food for another slice. “If anything, I was just cooped up in my office while keeping the house nice and tidy.” 
“Good to know. Have you been doing stuff with the others while I was gone?” 
“Who do you mean?” 
“I mean. Jihyo, Mina, maybe even Sana.” Dahyun says, and your gaze shifts from stoic to this more pensive one; like the last name makes you remember things that you’re not supposed to. “You did help with Sana right?” 
“I did. I was hoping that she left a handful of messages for you to read when you got off the plane.” 
The doorbell rings, and your wife is quick to answer it with that fast-paced walk of hers. By the time she opens the door, the home is filled with a familiar sound that was echoing through the hallways not that long ago, a week, three weeks even. 
Sana greets Dahyun with a loving embrace much like yours earlier this morning. Their conversation was pretty much filled with the usual ‘when did you get back?”, ‘you have to fill me in on everything that happened at your work!’, and ‘did you give him a hard time with the stuff you asked him to do?’ All of these questions have your head at an angle when you see the pair of them cling onto each other, like lost friends who haven’t seen each other but miraculously reunite at an airport after who knows what time frame you’d put them in. 
(Sana gives you this gaze, one that will have you kicking your heels while she combs down Dahyun’s hair, that sly smile of a girl who knows what they did, what she does to you.) 
You do nothing, just give her the simple wave and smile like nothing ever happened, while your mind plays a whole different tune and movie in the back of your head. 
(A small tidbit about montages: these moments in time from here on out to help shape up how stories play going forward. It’s not pretty, playing Sana’s game of chess while the ‘oh, my wife doesn’t know I cheated on her with her best friend who just happens to be our next door neighbor’ runs in your head. 
The blips don’t also fucking help either:
Instance #1: Another house party hosted by you and Dahyun where you bump into Sana in the kitchen, who returns with a playful tap to your crotch and a smack to your ass that has you buckling forward while you hear her laugh fade into the crowd.
Instance #2: Sana comes over for a movie night with Dahyun. While she went to use the bathroom, she uses this as an advantage to straddle over your lap, sucking your face up with her lips like a vacuum in the dark before she hurries back to her original spot on the couch, fixing up her hair and wiping her lips, playfully pointing at the hickey underneath your jaw that has you rolling her eyes by the time Dahyun settles back in the seat.  
And finally, instance #3: The infamous office room incident. Where you had a dinner party with the neighbors again to celebrate your promotional achievement of heading this massive project that would benefit into making electric cars more affordable for the common money maker. Everyone is having fun with the drinks and partying aspect of it while Sana is on her knees, again, in the dark, deepthroating your cock with the door open for anyone to notice. All urges are off the table when you and her stow yourselves away into the guest room (with the meticulously placed soundproof foam pads all over the walls) when you have Sana’s light body bouncing over your cock, hammering down her hot cunt for a few minutes while she bites her own finger when you switch up the tempo to be more slow, loving, a deliberate way where she can really feel every throb inside her. She has a hand to the small of your back, you’re covering her moans with your palm, making her cum over and over until she’s walking to her house with a stutter in her step. 
More incidents did occur, but there’s got to be a sense of craziness if we’re thinking of going through all of them.) 
“I’d say that things are pretty normal now,” you say, arm around Dahyun’s back with fingertips just grazing the top of her ass, legs over your lap while taking shade on the couch in the backyard patio, hanging out with a quartet of drinks on the table, two for you, and the other two for Sana and Tzuyu. 
They’re here on another hot Thursday, not wanting to risk a brownout with the a/c running for more than the viable six to eight hours that you’d normally have while working, taking a dip in the pool for a bit. Two pretty girls in clad bikinis: Sana in a revealing two piece that barely covers her nipples and pussy, Tzuyu in a striking singular bathing suit that shows those luscious thighs almost having you drool when she gets out of the water. 
“This was so much better than just walking around in our underwear around the house.” Tzuyu says, laughing, grabbing her bottle of this brand you pulled from the fridge when she takes a nice swig. You remember the faint memory of waking up one morning with Tzuyu and Sana, both of them taking turns fucking you in different parts around the house. Tzuyu on the couch in the living room and Sana again on your office chair, hopping along your cock while you’re typing in a report on the desktop. 
Sana’s laugh fills the atmosphere when she talks about pushing Dahyun into the pool, her look unamused when you stare at her in bewilderment while she sees Dahyun slap your shoulder, motioning you to take on the defensive. “You really have nothing else better to do than to spend your time with us.” 
“You and Dahyun are good company.” Sana says, dismissively, hand on Tzuyu’s thigh to also include her in the conversation. 
Dahyun shifts her legs off of your lap, pulling them in towards her while you sit up, leaning forward for the empty bottles before you’re stopped by Sana and Tzuyu, who both offered to get another round of drinks back inside while you relax. The pair of them both walk away, arm in arm, two beautiful girls with both bearing breathtaking asses, all within line of your eyesight. 
“You don’t think I know,” Dahyun says, snapping your gaze immediately back to her. 
“Know what?” you say, crossing your arm over while she leans in closer to you, making a face that looks very serious, but not threatening. A lick of your inner lip sends you uneasy while Dahyun’s eyes stare deeply into your soul. That deepening pit of anxiety inside your stomach has you second guessing on whether or not being honest and transparent with your wife should be the best route to go knowing what you did. What you’ve done. 
“Nothing,” she answers after, “Wanted to test something out of you.” Dahyun then leans her head into your collarbone while you stare out into the blue horizon hearing the sounds of Sana and Tzuyu come back with another bundle of bottles waiting to be downed. 
This happens entirely on a whim, and when you’re not even a part of the picture. 
Sana answers the door to her house, eyes shooting up when Dahyun’s at the top step, smiling with a bag from the bakery and a full bottle of sparkling cider. 
It’s the usual game of the catch-up conversation, Dahyun talks about her draining work from the trial, plus her extended vacation time handed by her boss. Sana talks about the upcoming collabs that she’s been appointed to, a plane waiting with an open door for her on the taxiway by the end of the month. 
Exchanging laughs, quick memories of their past hangouts. The high-school reunion type vibe has this sense of nostalgic feeling between the two of them, but Dahyun drops the act completely out of nowhere to talk about more pressing matters. 
“How long?” she asks Sana, placing her glass neatly on the counter across from her. 
“What are you talking about?” Sana says, swallowing down a lump of bread down her throat, worrying. “Did I do something wrong?” 
“I know you’ve been getting cozy with him,” Dahyun says flatly, “I just want you to tell me if that’s true or not.” 
“About?” 
“Getting his dick all up inside of you like you wanted.” 
“I thought you were okay with it?” 
“I never said anything remotely close to that.” Dahyun sighs, grabbing the half-full bottle of cider before downing it straight from the opening, placing it down right after while Sana taps her finger on the counter. “Besides, he’s probably worried that our marriage is ruined.” 
“Doesn’t seem that way.” 
“Sana, what are you implying?” 
“What I’m implying,” Sana prompts sweetly, stepping towards Dahyun around the counter, snaking a hand down her waist where it’s open in the crop-top, kissing her by surprise. Dahyun’s mouth opens wider, fingers curling around the nape of Sana’s neck, like an old memory locked away coming to light again. “Is that we show your lovely man that shouldn’t be the case between us.” 
She dips her face into Dahyun’s again, the kiss more intoxicating than the first initial contact. It’s how Dahyun melts down from Sana, the way her spine curves backwards, Sana’s hands there at the perfect time to support her, both of them are panting into it, how open they were about their feelings for each other before you waltzed in to have Dahyun all to yourself. 
“I hate how I like you and him both.” Dahyun gasps when Sana plants her lips across her neck, her hands grasping her waist and ass that gets this hum of approval from Sana on her skin. “Maybe we could find a probable compromise to solve this little problem?” 
“Is it the same compromise I’m thinking of seeing his pretty eyes when we cum all over his cock?” Sana asks with a wink while Dahyun just giggles into her chest. 
“I love it when you and I are on the same page.” 
A sigh leaves your lips when you hear how the metal grinds inside the lock of your doorknob, pushing the front door open to see the surprise of an article of clothing, sitting at your feet, tilting your head to the side when you pick it up to see that it was a cropped shirt. The soft sound of the humidifier fills the eerie silence when your eyes notice another piece of clothing a few inches away from the shirt, connecting the dots in your mind realizing the trail of clothes up the stairs. 
Once up the steps, the pieces start to get larger: first a shirt, then some stockings, the door leading into your bedroom was ajar, the knob hanging with two pairs of panties. The hinges on your door squeak but so quietly, and your ears are greeted with a familiar laugh, not just one, but two. 
Without producing any more noise to make your presence known, your eye captures the sight of Sana on your bed, dipping her head lower to a girl laying underneath, caressing her face while the other girl giggles, returning the kiss openly. It’s pretty peculiar, when you also realize that both of them are naked on your mattress, it’s also really fucking peculiar when you connect the dots that the girl laying underneath Sana is Dahyun of all people. 
“I suppose that Sana’s little secret was finally let out by her.” you finally say, leaning on the door frame with the smooth wood wide open. And when the both look up at you, Sana looking up and forward, Dahyun looking from under while laying still, fuck, it’s sending signals to your brain at the image of them on top of each other like this, a mesh of skin on skin, their pretty faces stacked on their chins - you could sketch it on an easel, because that’s a literal art piece in real time. 
Your mind doesn’t even register the few seconds after, when both Dahyun and Sana make way towards you, the movement of their bodies in perfect sync, hypnotized at the way you watch how they stand on their tiptoes - ghosting their hands all over your chest and hips while your hands tend to their asses, palm at the defined fit of them, softly laughing. 
“We had,” Sana and Dahyun both say each word in different pauses, something straight out of a horror movie at the way they ad lib each other’s utterances. “An idea,” Sana adds. “That you’d hope you’ll like.” Dahyun finishes. “Would you like to see what we were discussing?” 
(God picked your battles, and maybe you could let him off the hook just this once.) 
“Impress me,” you simply say, while Sana pulls your head into hers when she kisses you in front of Dahyun. 
So Sana and Dahyun return to the positions where you first found them.
The only difference being, Dahyun hanging her head off the bed upside down, dragging her tongue across the seam of your balls while Sana’s tongue slips inside your mouth, her slender fingers giving these languid strokes to your cock while the pair of them just hum in content, getting you ready when all of the gears are primed to click. 
The contrast between the two of them, Sana being gentle with her lips while Dahyun is the complete opposite with hers, aggressive with the way her tongue swipes across the underside of your cock, her hands wrapped around your thighs to get more of those lavish licks at the base that has you counting stars behind your eyelids early. 
“How are you rock fucking hard?” Sana husks, brushing her lips against yours while Dahyun leaves a path of pecks to your inner thigh before she rolls her body over, looking up with her doe eyes while Sana lets herself fall right next to her, flipping her hair back while the sheets crinkle at the elbows, reflecting the same look before flashing her eyes back at Dahyun. “Makes me wonder who you’re gonna finish inside of at the end of this.” 
“Didn’t know that this was a competition,” you say, mind zoning out when Sana draws her tongue up your underside now in a quick lick, Dahyun smiling on the opposite end doing the same exact thing, that will most definitely bite back your words. 
It’s only right that Dahyun gets to be the first to push your head into her mouth, inhaling a bit while her tongue smoothes out across the area, delicately brushing along the length that sends the synapses in your spine on an electrical current. Sana just looks in awe at how much your wife is taking you, twisting a hand in play while she plants a wet kiss to her temple. 
You could get lost in the finesse of how Dahyun’s small hands skate up your length, the cushion of her mouth already enough to have your tongue between your teeth, but Sana didn’t come her to just watch, tapping lightly on her shoulder and sliding you out of one heat into the next, and the expectation you had for Sana blowing you always gets thrown out the window. 
“Fucking whore she is,” Dahyun rasps when Sana lowers her lips more down your cock, rolling along with the lightest graze of her teeth along the top, a twitch of your legs with a billowing puff of your cheeks to let them know that what they’re doing is working. How many times has he let you blow him under the desk? You hear Dahyun ask Sana, pulling some stray strands of hair from her side when she clasps her lips at the base, keeping you there in the sweltering heat. 
“Oh Dahyun,” Sana reprimands, “You have no idea how much I’ve made him cum while you were away.” 
A hand is thrown into the mix, behind both of their heads when they meet the glints in their eyes, uniformly taking your cockhead from the side, slowly sliding down at the suction, how they both fluidly slide you in their mouths in alternating fashion. Sana popping with her mouth, Dahyun swiping along the slit the next second. 
“Christ girls,” and you could hear the giggles of satisfaction to your amazement when they both have a hand along the length, stroking slowly to the point you can’t even look them in the eye. “You had this planned for a while now, haven’t you?” 
“I was against Sana’s crazy idea,” Dahyun purrs, face flushed when you notice that Sana’s hand is at her rear, fingers dipping into her cunt that’s already slicked up, waiting to be stretched, “but then she convinced me otherwise after some- propper persuasion.” 
“Tell me,” Sana chimes in, that innocent pout with her pursed lips doing absolutely no justice to how she looks right now, “Who do you think is the bigger slut between the two of us, me? Or Dahyunie?” 
Dahyun guwaffs when she leans into your palm, slapping your cock along her lips while you thumb the soft skin on her temple, swiping the underside of your head makes you grit your teeth at the amount of teasing they’re both doing. “Maybe he should fuck our faces to see,” she suggests, “Who could choke the hardest over this fucking cock.” 
(With a pair of wide open eyes, you could only mouth the word, “fuck.”) 
“You’d like that anyway, won’t you daddy?” 
The obedience settles in when both of these girls let their hands rest on the edge of the bed, finger and thumb wrapped around your cock when you tell both of them to hang their mouths open, rubbing your tip around the rim of Sana’s lips when she opens wider, wider until her jaw fully slacks at the whole length, and you love how she’s a pro at this. 
You take your deserved pleasure of how each of these girls' mouths feel around you. Sana’s lips being so unbearably perfect with those pretty lips of hers, sliding out and have Dahyun practically inhale your cock next, her eyes blinking up over the tight seal she has over you. “Jesus, baby–” 
Sana helps play the guide fucking your cock more into Dahyun’s mouth, the subtle flick she has sliding around with every move and thrust flushing into her throat. Her small lips were already ahead of the curve mirroring Sana’s movements a few minutes ago, the pressure sending waves from your hips up, lightly clutching her hair to keep the ache building. 
“Taking your baby so well, huh?” Sana growls over the sound of Dahyun desperately slipping her head down your length. “You like how she’s deepthroating you after not having your cock for a whole month?” 
“Feels so fucking good,” you answer, spreading your legs apart to keep Dahyun’s mouth on your cock warm, moaning so loud when Sana’s other hand works your balls, fingernails scratching along the ridges of skin while she fingers her, the moans sending vibrations along your shaft nearly breaking you. “Keep- gonna cum on this pretty fucking face.” 
Borderline filthy, almost off the fucking rails. Sana doesn’t like to play fair when she pulls Dahyun off of your cock, the drag of her tongue stripped off with a line spit connecting to her lips that’s soon catered to Sana’s mouth kissing Dahyun again, and the sight in itself is a blessing that you’ll never take for granted, how their faces tilt every second they meet, the smile breaking at the corner where you could notice them, delicately letting their fingers explore their faces, hooking into their hair and necks, the rise and fall of their shoulder every breath taken. 
Sana’s head spins out of control when she’s pushed onto the pillows of the bed, propping on her elbows while Dahyun spreads her knees apart more, kissing up the line of her inner thigh. “Dahyun,” she rasps, head reeling back when she’s getting close to the center, “I’ve been dreaming of this to happen for so long: you eating me out while your husband is oh- looks like he’s already ahead of the–” 
You don’t pay attention to their short exchange of words, relishing in the taste of Dahyun’s pussy, licking past the slit when you grip her asscheeks a little more tighter, a slip of the tongue over her clit, lapping up in the ways that you know your wife likes. 
Like the trail of clothes to the bedroom, your vibrations transfer up to Dahyun’s mouth and into Sana’s cunt; it’s a connecting line of fucking when you slide your tongue deeper, where the heat is the most hot, hooking your arms over Dahyun’s thigh’s while Sana grips her head, whimpering the moans where she’s left struggling for air. 
“Look at us, Dahyun, shit, he’s eating away at you, you’re eating away at me, this is so fucking good.” 
Sana’s the first to sputter, the amount of hums in approval, cracking under the faults. You and Dahyun are on the same page when you’re slipping two fingers in - then three; Dahyun catches on while getting fucked over, adding her four fingers into Sana’s stretching pussy. She’s gonna lose it. 
That whine she makes, when she’s over the edge, it’s the missing symphony in your ears. 
“Yes, I’m cum– gonna fucking cum,” she cries out, Dahyun leans all the way in, back arched in a way that would rival a gymnast. The way your fingers are clutching at her snowy skin, enough to easily scratch and draw bruises, she’s quivering when you’ve also made her reach the peak like Sana: these meaningless sounds, air getting more static through their tracheas. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Dahyun whines out matching Sana’s volume, hips tensing while your mouth is pressing against the pucker of her ass, tongue and finger tag teaming while she fucks Sana through her sensitive pussy, past the first hurdle of cumming and skating a pair of fingertips over her clit, making Sana lock her knees while the circles on her nub continue, speaking complete nonsense and in mewls. 
“I’ll fuck you now, just like you wanted.” you spit, pulling yourself closer to Dahyun by the hips, her whole body relaxing when you have the head of your cock, skimming the folds of her pussy while Sana cradles her head on her boobs, leaving languid kisses while Sana puts her legs up underneath. 
“Need it–” Dahyun pants, only to be shut up by Sana kissing her again to keep her dazed. 
“What do you need, honey?” you ask, leaning forward to kiss the line of her back, hand massaging her waist before you retract your hand up the dunes of her hip, onto the divot of her hip while impulsively smacking your wife’s ass that makes her yelp at how hard you hit it. 
“Your cock- need your cock inside me-” She can barely answer while she’s drunk at the teasing of your cock along her pussy while Sana’s lips work her neck. “Need you to fuck me.”
“Well, he’s gonna have his work cut out for you isn’t he?” Sana asks, massaging Dahyun’s waist while the top of your thigh meets Sana’s ass, licking your finger to make her squeal when you rub it on her clit, and you get several. “Fucking our brains till we’re drained.” she tells you, watching as you stroke the length of your cock. How long could you hold out? How much can you handle? You’ll be good for us, let you easy- until you’re cumming a whole fucking mess. 
Sana means business, Dahyun is already putty just waiting to be put back into a tube and spilled over on the bed. “You two will be good girls for me, and I’ll fuck you guys right.” 
You mean what you say, it’s in existence. And when you push your head into Dahyun’s perfect pussy, the opening rips out a tone within her that you’ll always remember - sucking in an air at the clamp, taking you all the way. Sana smiles at the wince Dahyun makes, holding her face when you pull back, slowly thrusting halfway, the tightness leaving you speechless. 
That very moment where you’re sinking - where you don’t even have to say anything. (Because Dahyun was just made to take your cock that doesn’t feel undeserving at all.) Her ass is spread out, cunt gripping the whole fucking length while she buries her head into Sana’s neck. You could also hear a hush come from Sana’s lips while you’re still fixated on your cock disappearing inside of Dahyun. 
“Just-” Dahyun sputters, the octave in her voice going up pitch by pitch, fucking her soaking hole while you’re pushing everything to the possible ability you can, where you can feel the clench around your head, sobbing, hands over the dough of her ass, getting her cock drunk until you senselessly empty yourself inside her. 
“Harder,” Sana chides, tongue on the neck while she’s the supporting beam of the shaking girl laying on top of her. “I want her to be broken in two.” 
So you keep pounding, this familiar angle with your hips to where Dahyun has died before, shrieking while she feels like she’s floating in her head. When you see her head move over to the side, her profile in view, you’re blown away by the fade of her blush, Sana’s hand underneath to her chin, her back arched to the highest point she could possibly have it in, pistoning yourself in like it wasn’t the daily routine as it is, not ever realizing that it would never stop being like this. 
When her moans reach the apex, you could see Dahyun mouthing something, a wobbling lip hindering for her to even say the words properly - Baby, I’m gonna fucking– cum so hard on your- 
One final push in, and her entire lower half shakes, a dam finally cracking under the pressure. 
Sana’s just there to admire the artwork of her face, while reassuring that everything will be taken care of once all of this is done, a kiss to the lips while your cock continues to slowly plunge deep, cumming on your hips, the warmth too comfy to even leave. This would be great, one more sense of presence in the bed that will be a mainstay from now on. 
“Look at you doing so well for him,” Sana says, and she’s still laughing, drunk on the sounds of Dahyun while her half-lidded eyes are telling a different tale. “You’ve missed his big fucking cock, fitting so perfectly inside you, hmm? Look at how much you creamed all over him, ugh, filthy.” 
Dahyun just shudders while you’re massaging her inner thigh, pulling the head of your cock out of her fucked pussy, slapping the head agasint the sensitive clit, and you chuckle lightly at the small twitches she makes every hit that she feels; once, twice, thrice, and even the fourth. 
“Was that enough to satisfy you?” you ask, learning over to get your face in between the two pretty girls, getting a whiff of your wife’s hair while Sana’s quick to plant her lips on the cuff of your ear, bold, trying to hide how badly she wants the next go at you railing her. “Could you take more tries before your cunt gets my load all up inside of you?” 
“She’s not gonna answer that for you right away.” Sana sliding herself down, her fingers fluttering around your shaft. She does these circular motions alongside the skin that had your head sideways the other day back on the couch, realizing how sterile you were at being delicately handled, she’ll play that to her advantage, and she always finds something new. 
“Now that you had your fill with her,” she continues on with this while showering Dahyun with peppered kisses across her breasts. “Don’t you think I should have a go? Make you throb to the point where I get to feel the teeny bits of precum before you burst?” 
“Sana, that’s not nice.” you tell her, lightly tapping Dahyun’s waist, leaning over to the nook of her neck to whisper something. Have her something to do while keeping Sana’s mouth occupied, because I hate how she doesn’t shut up about things like these. And Dahyun follows along, still coming down on her high, shimmying her way up on her knees and when she finally hovers over Sana’s face, you see the quick peek of her tongue tip in preparation while your fingers are working fast around Sana’s thighs, pulling her towards you and priming Dahyun for the perfect angle. 
“Should we shut this little slut up, honey?’ Dahyun asks, biting her lip at you while you slapping your cock along Sana’s folds, to an amount enough for her to hide the growl coming out of her mouth. “I think she’s a little too antsy for the both of us.” 
“Ladies first,” you smirk, providing the common courtesy, dipping your cockhead in before backing out, catching the small ‘fuck’ being let out by Sana. Dahyun takes the quick moment of weakness as an opportunity to finally sit on her face, her hand also quick to rub her clit while the woman’s open mouth on her pussy starts to tear away at the threads, and you know Sana well enough to describe the feelings. 
It’s listed as this: tight, so fucking tight to the point that it should be considered to a world class delicacy that’s not meant to be enjoyed leisurely. 
That sharp draw of air through the thin lines of your teeth, finding that leverage into her cunt, easing into her, trying not to get ahead of yourself when she’s finally flush with your hips. You could hear the hum of satisfaction through Dahyun, her hand gripping Sana’s hairs between her legs, lightly grinding her cunt over her wet, hot mouth. 
“Right there, yeah, there we go.” How your cock stretches alongside the walls, spreading her apart. It’s always a real show to keep both eyes open on, no quarter of the inch left behind. Sana would be this tornado that swoops in places, taking people off their feet. In trade for that, she offers a grace with her person - a vibe that comes off as rich, tied to materialism, to be used as a personal fucktoy when the time is right, and that instance of ‘time’ happens to be legitimately, every time. 
You could take days to figure out how you managed to get in this position. It’ll only take you hours, minutes; hell, maybe even less than a few milliseconds to wrap your head around the fact of how full you make Sana with your cock, providing the same structure of strokes, slowly building up pace like with Dahyun a few minutes ago. 
“How’s he feeling, Sana? Does he fill you up well like he said that he would?” Dahyun finally says, hair curtaining the right side of her face while Sana’s eyes can only look up while her mouth works her pussy again. The gluttal sounds of moans and chokes and smacks of Sana’s lips on Dahyun’s other lips, the only thing that she can do while you’re splitting Sana apart, her also doing some small movements so that she could fuck herself back onto your cock. 
Dahyun pulls her hips up for Sana to speak, “Oh baby, it’s fucking me so deep. Want him - want daddy to fuck this pretty pussy–all for him.” 
“Is that something you can do…fuck her cunt the same way you fucked my cunt?” 
This takes a pause, flashing a gaze to Dahyun while you could feel the muscles flex in Sana’s legs and hips, driving yourself into her continuously, keeping a rhythm in check. The demand that’s being proposed doesn’t even register in your mind and Dahyun does this swift motion of doing a complete one-eighty of her hips, pressing her ass down onto Sana’s forehead, leaning over with a hand onto her waist while the other pulls your face in with her small fingers. You’ll have to pay attention, because her lips are quick to keep you from snapping out of Sana’s perfect pussy. 
“What are you asking me to–” 
“I want you–” one kiss to get you drunk from Dahyun, “to fuck her properly–” another kiss to keep focus, “until she cums–” nothing wrong with having a third kiss, “all over this perfect cock.” 
Your hand is quick to reach across for Dahyun’s breast, kneading it in a way that she knows that she’s still yours, her eyes flickering down to the sight of your cock sinking back into Sana’s blown cunt, floating a pair of fingers on the clit, watching as you tear her apart, not wanting to shy or look away herself. 
Sana’s quick to pull her face off of Dahyun’s ass, gasping for air before sweeping the flat of her tongue across her pussy once again, “So fucking perfect for me, daddy, please, don’t stop,” is what she says to you while you can see her legs go limp slightly from the sides. 
The creaks of your lofted bed frame are singing at the shift of movement between the bedsheets and pillows, pulling yourself (with Sana inside still) up to the edge, planting both of your knees when you bottom yourself a little bit more deeper. You notice the image of Sana’s face fucked out, how she’s blushing, twisting her head to the right with her eyes closed, Dahyun manages to stave off to the side, taking a momentary break while you carry on with teasing Sana’s swollen clit, getting a few whines, moving her head against the sheets in a brief tantrum. 
“Had enough yet?” you had the frame of asking, smiling alongside the line of Sana’s neck while the temporary angle of your cock just nudges that one spot you’ve managed to hit a couple times, the symphony of Sana’s little ‘oh’s’ when a small move of the hips just has Sana’s cunt clenching the head of your cock to send you gasping as well. 
“Stop - stop with the questions,” she huffs, body stiffening before the wave of relaxation when you’re leaving more pretty bruises along the drawn canvas of her middle, licking up the deserved sweat of your hard work that’s also staining the sheets, along with the soaking that’s between your legs and hers. 
You get a command, Sana looks up in a panic when Dahyun tells you to start fucking her harder, lifting the small of her back to get her horizontal with the mattress. 
The levels just only seem to go up higher than then; Sana’s eyes being pulled down and rolled back. She knows you’re hitting the right spot, because of how she’s lightly pulling her legs up, you doing most of the support when she’s drawing these hitches of air, shuddering all over your waist while you push her beyond that edge. Her head is doing this bobbing motion when you slide with that upstroke, and you could feel the drag of her nails digging into your forearms that would seem accidental in another circumstance. 
Dahyun plays spectator, catching her breath, hand toying between her thighs while you’re fucking the girl beneath you into a spilled puddle all over your lap. 
“Are you seriously getting off without my help?” you ask, effortlessly gliding into the folds of Sana’s cunt. “Touching yourself while your best friend is taking my cock, sweetie? God, look at her, she’s wrecked.” 
Sana pulls you in with little strength she has left, able to get her arms around your neck and shoulders, tightening that pull even more against you. 
“Want you to cum,” she pleads, “I want you to cum inside and just, fuck, you don’t–” It’s miserable, hopeless, the power you have to just do exactly that with the way both Dahyun and Sana are both moaning and panting and just straight up rubbing both of their swollen clits while the length of your cock is still drowning in one of them. 
It’s how you do these broad strokes, slowly, strategically, a technique that you’ve perfected over the amounts of times you’ve got yourself completely fucked over, balls tapping above the pucker of Sana’s ass when pulling yourself in from the top of her thighs, a holding point while doing the best punishment of teasing you could ever do for someone like her. 
(Calling Dahyun over: shut this bitch up for me, please?) 
It’ll do you numbers in which: you’re still fucking Sana insanely hard still, with Dahyun’s head hovering above the present action. 
Sana’s clutching on to Dahyun’s leg, pressing her eyes into the skin, not wanting to let this fantastic feeling ever end, muttering all of the lovely things that she’s told you before multiple times. You could see the tug on her lips, tilting your head at how familiar the look was because you’ve seen it the first few times at how she couldn’t believe that you’d feel this good inside her, to get her stomach transformed into ashes and have her seeing stars. Sana’s body is “Pandora’s box’ full of lust, just waiting to be opened until you’ll give her opulence of what she needs from you, to fill her up. 
“Fuck her through and through,” Dahyun orders with this hint of anger, “need to see her cum–” 
“Give me your mouth, princess,” retreating from Sana’s exhausted cunt and getting Dahyun’s mouth all over you, cleaning up the mess of Sana’s slick right off of your length, stomach dipping when her throat swallows almost the entire half. 
Your ears are zeroing in on the gags your wife is making on your cock, doing a double feature while her fingers are rubbing Sana’s clit to keep that ache, grasping a high ponytail with one hand, sucking away that will have you dreaming that the tension is almost tempting of spilling inside her throat right at that second. Dialing back with what little warning you have left, slipping back into the other hot warmth below her chin. 
Despite the numbness clouding your brain, the obscene sounds of hums and whines tie in perfect tandem while you’re gliding back into Sana’s cunt, alternating between the tender rings of muscles, stretching around your cock in a one-two step: Dahyun’s mouth sliding and slobbering down your length, teasing Sana with your cockhead in her cunt massaging the walls around that squeezing vice. 
You’re not at fault for when it happens: face red hot from within, the sound that rips through your vocal cords while your knees buck at the sensation of Sana’s ass bouncing back off the edge of the bed, and the small gyration of her hips when you’ve driven all the way to the hilt, she can sense it too.
Again, you’re not at fault for the way your cock pulsates that first second inside Sana’s sopping fuckhole, the first shots at the deepest pit where you could take it, twitching while you’re trying to save yourself from losing all of it from the first hold. Any second longer inside that lovely heat will have you rethinking your life choices up until this point. 
You pull out, fist tight around your cock when you could see the lower point of your tip, giving an act of generosity firing another shot of cum inside Sana, cock out in the air where Dahyun sees the opportunity to lean in, drinking in the remaining spill that–
Scratch that, it’s not remaining, because you’re cumming everywhere. 
There’s drops of white spilling from the front of her lower lips, pumping out the leaks on the flat of Sana’s stomach. Shit, you even managed to get a few globs on Dahyun’s cheek, even up to Sana’s right tit. It’s all fucked, you almost topple over on top the both of them, the arm serving as a last gasp foothold while the color drains from your face. 
Dahyun pushes you up with both of her hands, staring at you with the splotches of your release slowly sliding down alongside her cheek. She’s taken aback with the load, but what she does with it–
(Well, don’t be surprised. She’s the love of your life for god’s sake.) 
Two fingers skate off some of the cum off her profile, rubbing it on her lips. You draw yourself away while Dahyun helps Sana sit up on the bed, her hand quick to dip under her cunt where she picks up more of your cum that you’ve spilt inside. Sana catches on quick to lick off the cum off of Dahyun’s cheek, tongue sliding across the plane to swallow, the small ‘mms’ and audible smacks of lips colliding. Dahyun just laughs when she examines her palm, placing it underneath her mouth and Sana’s both of them licking the dribble up like two birds in a bath, washed over with sweat and slick and filthy and–
“So fucking gross,” Dahyun says, finger to the arch of Sana’s brow, wiping a wisp of hair off. “Like, are you gonna be so full of yourself–”
“Hey,” Sana tuts, “Don’t get all mad now that I’ve managed to push his buttons better than you.” She then slumps herself over Dahyun’s lap, hand massaging her waist while Dahyun leans back on her palms, crossing one leg up the edge to support her head. They both get secluded in their own little world, whispering these different sayings to each other with a soft smile at one, a scrunched nose to the other. 
You manage to slot yourself to the side, next to Dahyun, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, “I thought this wasn’t a competition over me.” 
The pair simply roll their eyes, Dahyun runs her fingers through Sana’s hair, unconsciously, affectionately. They’re still coming down from all the fucked out clarities while they simply - just - look. Being proven wrong wasn’t that much of a loss in itself; in fact, it was actually inviting when you’re giving them the same confused expression that has the brain questioning everything from the plain existence to whether or not this new reality was even sustainable amongst the three of you. 
“We could all agree to an accord together,” Sana says enthusiastically, “like distinguished human beings- or, something like that.” 
(I mean, there’s a blueprint to draw up for that extra room anyway, but you’ll get to that later.) 
It’s during one Saturday morning, when the plates and bowls of today’s breakfast are already in the sink, you have a single carry-on duffel bag in your hand, placed on the highest step of the stairs, taking in that crisp air through your nose. Everything comes to a gentle slope, the clouds are high up in the sky, meshed up together, shielding the landscape from the beaming sun, and the time hasn’t even hit noon yet. 
“I just don’t get it.” you beam, elbows on the railing while your eyes get caught up in a pair of blue jay’s gliding past the street, fascinated by the companionship of nature. Only to have your attention drawn to the awaiting car on the driveway, Dahyun’s personal chauffeur (and to this day you’re still wondering if that person even gets paid or not). “All of this trouble of having a vacation, get reeled back into working, have more time off than expected, but still decide to take up another work order again?” 
Dahyun steps out the doorway, slapping your arm, leaving your face with a small wince that you play off with dead eyes. “I could call Nayeon to put in a word for Momo. If you’re making such a big deal out of it, I might as well tell them myself that I wanted more time off than need be.” 
“You said that it was work related.” you tell her as the counterargument.
“But it’s not!” Sana bursts out, all smiles while you’re walking down the pathway with another bag in your hand onto the asphalt. “Such a buzzkill, as if you didn’t want the whole place to yourself to burn down. You spend wayyyy too much time up in your little office, so consider this to be punishment.” 
“Where did this come from?” you ask, flustered, with arms up trying to play the innocence card. 
Dahyun pulls Sana’s singular luggage from her hand and into the trunk of the car, the bag you were carrying also next to be put before a shut off of the compartment. “We’ve been planning this for sometime, and now we’ve decided to do it. Together.” She pulls up her own passport with an airline ticket shoved in between the pages. You could probably guess where they’re going, judging from the assortment of clothes that they’ve packed, it must be somewhere tropical, like Cancun or in the Bahamas, maybe even Malaysia was on the cards, but you take it with a grain of salt. 
“Is this supposed to be a besties trip that I didn’t even know about until now?” you ask the two girls standing behind the car, leaning back onto the glossy material of the paint job while your arms are bridged between your chest. “I’m also assuming that this is predetermined–” 
“Stop being so analytical.” Sana groans out, “You really have to think twice about what our summer plans were?” 
“Maybe he just needs a few conditions.” Dahyun adds on, nudging Sana’s shoulder to which her face suddenly lights up in excitement. “Besides, he’s really good at reading between the lines, like, you know, he has a good thing for body language - go ahead, test him, I’m sure that he’ll show off like he always does.” 
(It’s how you catch yourself shaking your head downwards to the Earth, hiding the grin that’s breaking on your face because Dahyun knows how well you observe your surroundings. She’s trying to play dumb at the fact that she went ahead to grab your duffel bag while getting the shower ready for yourself. You also notice that Dahyun’s driver got her roughly about ten minutes early to put your bag in the trunk and pretend that nothing ever happened. It’s cute when she gets sneaky and mischievous, because Sana will always buy into what she devises to get you stressed, a migraine pounding through the back of your head, taking it out when you have both of them moaning underneath or straddled on top of you.) 
So you say: “Are there any guarantees to this if I do what you ask?” 
Dahyun puts her passport out in front, shifting her thumb over to show yours underneath. You pretend to be shocked with lifted eyebrows, but you already have them figured out. 
“Honey,” Sana says, blinking with her teeth peering through her smile, “I can guarantee that you've got us both.” 
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tiyoin · 8 months
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what if alastor’s darling went to heaven 😧
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cw: heavy manipulation, heavy gaslight, alastor being alastor (whom is a shit stirrer,) poor charlie is getting caught up in alastor's schemes again
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he’s yandere (platonic or romantic, up to you idc, but I hc him as ace) ofc he’s gonna want you by his side for all of eternity!
maybe that’s why he wants to involve himself with the hotel. so he can get close enough to heaven, just so he can tear your wings off and drag you down to hell with him.
of course he tells charlie about you once she gets the go ahead for the meeting. he asks her to give you this letter if she has the chance.
vaggie strongly opposes this once she see’s husk’s reactions to the mentioning of you. husk, the brute stand-offish bar tender stilled. the bar counter he was busy wiping down left forgotten as his head snapped to alastor’s.
yet his eyes met vaggie’s
“don’t let her get that letter. don’t let alastor near her”
she got the message loud and clear.
about to take the letter from alastor, he flicked his fingers away as his head snapped to hers. her eyes widened.
charlie was too busy gushing about ‘alastor long lost ‘lover’’ that she didn’t notice the hotel’s atmosphere change. the sudden dip in temperature, and the distant sounds of horses.
his eyes stopped boring into hers and snapped to husk, who started cleaning with stupor.
“miss vaggie..” charlie had stopped her bit and joined back to the conversation. off handedly noting how cold it was as alastor handed her the letter.
“i do appreciate your eagerness” his eyes squinted “in delivering this letter, but charlie here” he pats charlie’s head “is the only one i trust to do the job.” he smirked. fully aware of the silent conversation the two employees had.
vaggie gulped, backing away with her hands in faux surrender as charlie once again told him that she wouldn’t let him down!
vaggie didn’t have a good feeling about this. you two were separated for a reason.
he was in hell for a reason
plus it was illegal for believers and sinners to have any kind of contact, as that would violate heaven..
vaggie knew she shouldn’t talk. let alone question alastor. but he was planning on committing a carinal sin.
clipping an angels wings and watching them fall was the worst sin of all.
vaggie couldn’t wrap her head around it. did he really love you? or was he bored and wanted to take being an ‘overlord’ to the next level. to do one thing a sinner, let alone a citizen of hell could ever do.
cause a fallen angel.
“shouldn’t you let her be? you could get her- us into serious trouble by giving her that letter. who knows what might happen. we could get punished and she could”
“fall?“ he finished for her, eyebrow quirked with that same cocky grin on his face.
“what better way to help our group of sinners than to have an angel to lead us to salvation!” his grin widened, yet she never once met his piercing eyes. he squeezed his fist to show emphasis; determination, if you would.
“my y/n is nothing but a saint who devoted themselves to helping people in their life. she was even kind to give dear ol’ me special attention-“
“gross” vaggie cut in, alastor eyes snapped to her for the briefest moment, his facade cracking the tiniest bit before he continued; “this establishment is certainly in need of their expertise if we want the hotel to successfully reform sinners!”
charlie’s smile faltered, “but… she’d be kicked out of heaven…”
forever
that word rang through everyone’s minds. like how lucifer gave the apple to eve, alastor snaked around charlie.
“it’s a necessary evil, is it not?” he questioned, one by one his claws fanned onto her shoulders, his head next to hers as he whispered: “think about all the people we could help, they could help. they should know better than anyone how people in heaven are, what they act like, how they get there-“ he leered at vaggie
“from their own personal experience of course! and it’s so cold and lonely at night without my precious” he sniffles, grabbing a handkerchief from one of sir penticols egg boi’s.
“but we want people to get into heaven… not kicked out” she trails off, suddenly thinking about her father.
alastor rubbed her shoulders before sighing. he detached himself from charlie as stopped in front of her, next to vaggie.
“very well then” he extends his hand mournfully to charlie, eyes locked into hers.
“then there’s no point in having you deliver my love letter anyway” charlie looks at his hand, then his face, before looking at the slightly crumpled letter.
“please, charlie, don’t make this harder for me” alastor continues, empathizing his hand.
charlie looks at vaggie, then to the letter, then to the door and finally at alastor.
“…i’ll think about it” she mutters quietly, tucking the letter into her jacket as alastor’s sad demeanor changes like a mask falling off.
“wonderful!” he grabs charlie and vaggie by the shoulders and starts hearding them towards the portal. yapping their ears off about how they’ll do amazing, and that heaven ‘won’t know what to do once they see you both.’
but vaggie continued to look back, husk’s slightly turned up face didn’t betray the emotion on it. one she never thought she’d see on him.
pity.
charlie left first, tugging vaggie in as she met alastor’s twinkling eyes, and shit eating grin as he waved.
alastor had won, and vaggie knows he’s going to get ready to celebrate his spoils.
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i edited it and added some more… things 🤭
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marvelouslizzie · 1 year
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Not Lonely Anymore
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summary: You hear your roommate Bucky Barnes moan your name while masturbating and it changes everything between you two.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 3K
warnings: 18+, dry jumping (brief), unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, choking, teasing, dirty talk, no mention of y/n.
A/N: Hello hello! I present you the last part of my Lonely Night series. I am so grateful for your interest in the first two parts. I tried to keep my motivation up and give these two perverts a satisfying ending. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. Your feedback would be much appreciated.
You don't have to read the first two parts to understand what's going on but if you want to, please check my blog/masterlist for A Lonely Night and Same Lonely Night.
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Daddy kink and choking is for you ✌️
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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You can’t take your eyes off Bucky while you're processing what has just happened. Your eyes roam around his face and bare chest before falling on his shorts. His erection is pressed against the waistband, carefully hidden away from you but the wetness forming on the fabric betrays Bucky’s intentions. You can’t contain your smile, but Bucky doesn’t see it. He’s too lost in his own thoughts, and when your eyes meet, you realize he is worried and embarrassed. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something in order to end this awkward silence, but you beat him to it.
“Did you just say my name?” It comes out so calm, you even surprise yourself.
You know he did. You heard it with your own ears loud and clear. That’s why you dropped your glass after all. But it was that shocking to you. That unbelievable! So you just want him to confirm it. To make it real and assure you that really happened. Maybe then you will be able to believe it.
“I- I can explain.” You notice the cold sweat forming on his forehead.
He seems like a scared kid who got caught doing something he shouldn’t do. And it’s probably because he thinks he might lose you. You would feel the same way if he was the one who caught you masturbating just an hour ago. God, that would be mortifying, but now that you are on the other side of the equation, all you feel is excitement.
The realization eventually sinks in: he wants you. He actually wants you. That gives you a level of confidence you never had before.
You take a step forward and close the distance. Your lips are on his before he can react. You wanted to do this for a long time, but you had been unsure if he would have wanted it or not. You have a clear answer now, so there’s no need to hold yourself back. It takes him a second to respond to you, but you don’t hesitate. You just keep kissing him and it wakes him up like he has been hibernating for a long time.
His hands wrap around your torso and he pulls you closer. His fingers are digging into your hips like he’s trying to convince himself this is real, and he tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue gently slides into your mouth and that makes you moan for the first time. His lips, his tongue… He tastes so sweet. You just can’t get enough of it. It makes you crave him even more, and you don’t know how that is even possible.
Suddenly you push him, hoping to get him back inside his bedroom, but he doesn’t move an inch. He just gives you a dazed look, trying to understand why you did that.
“Work with me. Just move back.” You sound impatient, and he finally understands what you are trying to do.
“Fine.” He raises both of his hands like he’s surrendering, with a smile on his face, then he takes a step back and lets you push him further inside the room. You continue until the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls onto it after one final push.
“Is that what you wanted?” He sounds amused.
“Yeah.” You straddle him without missing a beat, getting comfortable on his lap while he pulls you in for another kiss.
This time it feels a little different. His hands are on your cheeks, holding you still while his tongue explores your mouth. It is the most passionate kiss you have ever had in your life. His erection is standing right there, between your legs and you can’t help yourself… You can’t stop that urge that’s slowly building up and why would you? You’re on his lap, finally doing this. There’s no need to stop yourself from doing what you want. So while he tastes you however he wants, you start to move your hips. After a couple of tries, you find the perfect spot and both of you moan nearly at the same.
He stops kissing you for a second just to take a breath, but he still holds your cheeks with his big hands and looks into your eyes. It’s like he’s afraid you might disappear. You have no plans of disappearing or stopping, though. You keep moving your hips and watching his eyes flutter every time you rub the right spot. It feels good even with the fabric between you two. Yet it’s not enough.
“We should get rid of your shorts.”
“And your panties.”
You raise yourself on your knees, just enough for him to push his shorts down, but you don't give him enough space to take them off completely.
“I don’t wanna use any protection. Do we have to?”
“Well, we don’t have to, but we might need to.” He’s not sure how fertile he is. It’s not like he tried it before, so it’s quite risky. All he knows is he has a lot more come than an average man and that’s a problem when it comes to using condoms. They are practically useless.
“I’m on the pill.” You quickly clarify. You only asked the question to see if he was comfortable with the idea or not.
“Then we definitely don’t need to.” Oh, he’s definitely comfortable. The way he just said it is enough.
He grabs his cock while you pull your panties aside without wasting any time, and you lower yourself onto him while balancing yourself with one arm on his shoulder.
“That impatient?” He taunts you, but he chokes on his words as soon as he feels your wetness. The head of his cock rests between your folds while you answer him:
“Are you not?” You sound relatively normal. Then you keep talking while taking him inch by inch. “Would you rather fuck your fist and fantasize about me?”
He wants to answer you. He wants to say something, but being balls deep inside you makes it harder to do so. He just lets out a low groan while grabbing your ass to ground himself.
You’re not so different from him. The way he stretches you pulls a pornographic moan out of you. You sit still for a second, trying to get used to this feeling. You can’t remember the last time you felt this full. It makes you shiver even without moving. You take your time and he just waits, patiently until you get used to the sensation. After a couple of seconds, you feel confident enough to move.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” There’s a bit of hesitation in his voice, but you don’t notice it because you are lost in the feeling of finally being so full. All of your senses are overwhelmed by it.
You aren’t sure if it’s going to hurt because he’s definitely the biggest you have ever had. So you move your hips slowly and test the waters. There’s something there. Some kind of discomfort. You can’t say you feel uncomfortable, you just need to get used to his size. So you keep moving because there’s this promise of pleasure hidden behind that discomfort. You can nearly taste it and it keeps you going. While trying to figure out the best way to move, you don’t realize Bucky is watching you, carefully. He’s trying to read your expression and see if you are okay. He’s ready to take up the reins or just stop if that’s what you need. His hands gently roam your body, discovering little details about your skin. Like how many moles you actually have.
“No rush. Take your time.” He sounds more like himself, much more confident than before.
You moan because of his words. His voice is deeper and it makes your blood rush. You start to move a little faster and notice how the discomfort slowly fades away. He notices that, too while grabbing your tits with both of his hands. One is colder than the other, and the contrast is dizzying. You lean into him, just to feel him a little bit more, and his grip on your tits tightens.
“God, so fucking pretty!”
Before you can say anything, his mouth is on your right nipple. You feel his tongue flicking over and over again while his other hand rests on the other breast. Then he sucks your nipple into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it. You grunt because of the mixed sensations. Just when you are about to protest, he lets out your nipple and moves on to the other one. He gives it the same treatment. A mix of licking, sucking, and biting until you can’t contain your movements. Your hips start to move so much faster, making both of you moan loudly.
“God, I wanted to do this for ages!” The words spill out from your lips without much of a thought.
“You did?” He doesn’t miss a beat.
“Yeah.” There’s no point in hiding it anymore, is there?
“Does this mean I am the daddy?”
His question catches you off guard, and you just freeze in the middle of the action.
“You… heard me.” It comes out more like a question rather than a statement.
“Why do you think I was masturbating?”
It takes you a couple of seconds to process what he's just said. He actually heard you. You never used his name, but it doesn’t change the fact that he witnessed something so private. Something you really wanted to hide from him, yet the idea of him hearing you also sets you on fire. Instead of submitting to the urge to get all shy, you decide to ask him what you actually want to know.
“You heard me and instead of making a move, you decided to fuck your fist?”
“What was I supposed to do? Knock on your door and ask if I can replace your dildo?”
“Yeah. Sounds great to me.” You keep moving your hips fast while talking. “Or maybe you are too shy to take what you really want.”
“Shy?” He blinks a couple of times.
“You don’t seem shy but maybe you are. Maybe you are a submissive little boy who wants to just lay here and take whatever I give you.”
You watch his expression change into something so different. It’s not particularly dark, but it feels like it. Before you can say anything else, he just flips you over. Your mouth falls open when your back touches the bed. Instinctively, you try to wrap your legs around his torso, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he pushes your knees back to your chest.
“What are you doing?” Your amazement is evident in your voice.
“Taking what I really want.” It takes a lot of effort to hide your smile. You can’t believe your taunting worked that quickly. “Tell me if it gets too much and I will stop.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
He waits for you to finish talking and then he starts to move. Your mouth falls open once again but this time, it’s not because you are surprised. It’s because you can’t believe how good it feels. It’s completely different than how it felt when you were on his lap. He reaches deeper inside you in this position, and his hands are still on your legs, pushing you further into the bed. You let out another sinful moan.
“Way better than I imagined.”
“Is it?” A smile lingers on his lips. “Feel free to be as loud as you want.”
“Do you want us to get kicked out of this apartment?” It takes every ounce of strength in you to form this sentence without stuttering. It’s so hard to talk like you aren’t getting railed.
“No, I just wanna hear you call me daddy.”
You can’t help but moan. Shit, he really heard everything. You feel so exposed, but somehow it doesn’t bother you. Is he actually into this? Who could’ve guessed?
“If you want that, you gotta work harder than this.”
“Ask for it.”
“Harder, please.” He waits for daddy to come out of your mouth, but it doesn’t. You really meant what you just said, he needs to earn it.
So that’s exactly what he does. He starts to pound you, just the way you fantasized. He manages to touch every part inside you and fills up in a way that makes you wanna cry. Your moans get louder with each thrust.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Your ears start to buzz. You can feel that your orgasm is close.
“Talk to me, doll.”
He wants to hear you, and you don’t feel like holding back anymore.
“I’m-I’m so close, Bucky.”
“What do you need?” His question is instant. You feel that he’s ready to do whatever you want.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You take a deep breath just to be able to keep talking. “Just keep going. Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetic, but you can’t brush off the urge to beg him. He would like that, wouldn’t he? You did it while masturbating and he got a hard-on just because of you. “Please, please, please.”
Your words make him groan like he is struggling to contain his excitement.
“I really need it, daddy, please…”
“Fuck, baby.” You feel him losing control. His thrusts are sloppier but he notices that, too. His metal arm moves on your chest and rests there. You don’t know if he’s trying to keep you still or ground himself. Then he looks directly into your eyes, trying to see if that makes you uncomfortable or not. It definitely doesn’t. Quite the opposite, you need his hand on your neck, and you gently grab his metal hand and move it on your neck without breaking eye contact. You watch his eyes widen with the realization.
“Are you sure?” You nod in response, but it’s not good enough for him. “Words, baby. I need actual words.”
“Please.”
That does it. His fingers tighten around your neck, pressing right against your veins, careful not to crush your windpipe.
“Yess.” Your head is thrown back. This is exactly what you wanted.
The way he’s choking you snaps something inside you. It intensifies everything you are feeling at that moment. Your whole body suddenly starts to shake, and it surprises you. You have never reached an orgasm this quickly before.
“Yes, yes, yes. Oh god, yes!” Your voice comes out hoarser than usual.
“Look at you.” He taps his fingers on your neck while he keeps moving. “My pretty baby. So good for me.”
You only moan in response, already too lost in the waves of your orgasm. It’s running through your whole body like electricity.
“Look at me! Look into my eyes.” He sounds so commanding and you listen to him even though it’s so hard to do it. He looks like he’s about to lose it, too.
“Come with me. P-please.”
“You want me to come, baby?” He asks in a way that makes you wanna cry out even more. Like he won’t come if that’s what you want. He will keep holding back until you say so but you don’t want that. You want him to enjoy this as much as you do.
“Please, daddy. Come with me.” He groans in response. You clearly see how your words affect him, especially calling him daddy. You can’t believe how much he’s into it.
He stops holding back and starts to move in a way that makes you scream. So you do that. You can’t contain the noises you make when he moves like this. You grip on his sheets, letting him ruin you for any other man.
“Fuck! Such pretty sounds… You like it that much, baby?”
“Yes, yes. So good, daddy.” You slur at the last part. You don’t care. You don’t care about anything when he makes you feel like this.
“Fuck, you take me so well.” You can actually hear that he’s close. “I-I’m gonna come, oh fuck.”
“Yess!” You have been waiting for this. You want it so badly. You wanna see him come. You want him to feel good, all because of you. You want to witness a part of him that he hides away from everyone else. It feels like owning a part of him. So private and primitive, but you don’t care. You need this.
He lets out the most guttural moan right before starting to come inside you. He doesn’t stop, just keeps the same pace, emptying himself inside you.
“Take it, baby. Take it! It’s all yours.” You know what he’s talking about. His come is already dripping out, yet he’s not done coming.
It looks like he lost his damn mind, but it’s the hottest thing you have ever witnessed in your life. You are so fascinated by him even though you are still coming yourself. That's why you force yourself to keep your eyes open and watch him while your high slowly fades away. Yet he keeps going. His hands are gripping on your tights, pulling you into him every time he moves. His come is dripping on your ass, to the sheets. It’s so messy but feels out of this world.
After a couple more thrusts, he collapses on top of you. His head rests on the crook of your neck, and you feel his heavy breathing on your skin. You don’t mind it, though. He doesn’t let his whole weight crush you. Always so thoughtful….
Your hands go to his hair, gently stroking it. That makes him move his head and look at you.
“We should’ve done this before.” That makes you wanna laugh, but instead, you just give him a huge smile.
“Yes, we should have. It was amazing.”
Suddenly he moves away from you, leaving you completely empty. It makes you whine instantly. You miss the fullness and the warmth of his cock already.
“Where are you going?” You give him a confused look while raising yourself on the bed. “Come back here.”
“Not was.” He kneels right next to the bed, in between your legs, and moves his head closer to your dripping core. “I’m not done with you, baby.”
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justauthoring · 7 months
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change in perspective.
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you never thought jamie tartt could be anything but a prick.
a/n: i have no explanation for this other than i just finished ted lasso (fashionably late as always) and this man makes me giggle like a little school girl :) (this is also not spellchecked! i'll do it later ;))
pairing: jamie tart x f!assistant coach!reader
“Does someone want to explain to me just what exactly Jamie Tartt is doing out on the field?”
All three coaches turn to you at the sound of your voice, but it’s Ted’s eyes that light up the second he registers your presence. A smile curls onto his lips as he turns to face you, posture nonchalant with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Ah! Well, if it isn’t my favourite assistant coach, Y/N! I was worried something had happened.”
Blinking back at Ted, you simply cross your arms over your chest. “What is Jamie doing out on the field?”
Ted lets out a laugh but it comes across more as a grimace as he rubs the back of his neck, turning his head to glance at Nate and then Beard. 
It’s Beard who explains. 
“Ted invited him back to the team.”
The water bottle you’d been holding in your hands promptly falls to the ground with a thud as your lips part, mouth left wide open, staring blank faced at Ted who continues to laugh somewhat uncomfortably.
“What?”
Beard raises his hands as if to gesture that he is an innocent party in your accusation all whilst you shift your shocked expression to a glare at Ted.
“Well, you know… I–I just thought that, well… he’s a good player, yeah?”
Shaking your head, you huff; “regrettably so.” Because even you weren’t bitter enough to not admit that Jamie was a great football player. Fantastic really. But–But he was an absolute prick who you’d thought you’d never have to work with ever again.
“And this team needs a little something to spice us up, yeah?” Ted, in Ted style, does a little dance (that’s meant to make you laugh) to add to the effect of his words.
“No,” you say blankly, before Ted raises a brow at you. Sighing, your shoulders fall. “Yeah.”
Offering you a smile, Ted rests his hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Give him a chance, okay?” He asks, his eyes pleading as he nods down at you. “I think he really means to make up for it all.”
You seriously doubt that. But, you don’t voice that opinion.
“Fine,” you surrender, dropping your hands to your side. “But I’m allowed to laugh at him when this team kicks his arse. Which they will because he deserved it.”
Ted snorts at that, “don’t worry, Nate’s already got you beat on that front.”
Your eyes shift to said man, and he’s sending you a wide grin and a thumbs up in a way that makes you chuckle despite how truly unhappy you were with Jamie only a few feet away from you, on your team.
-
The only thing that had made practice somewhat bearable was seeing Jamie repeatedly knocked on his ass.
And then mocked by the rest of the team.
Truly, it brought a smile to your face.
You’re still laughing to yourself about it as you finish packing up your stuff in the office you shared with Nate. Him, Ted, Beard and pretty much most of the team were already gone or on their way out the door, but you usually elected to stay a little longer than everyone else trying to come up with new gaming strategies, plays and honestly, team bonding exercises since you found it incredibly important that the team genuinely care for one another if they were going to play on a team together.
You’re just sliding your laptop into your bag when a knock pulls you from your musings.
“Oh, Sam, just give me–”
Except, it isn’t Sam when you finally glance up. It’s Jamie.
You’re leaping to your feet before you can stop yourself, a surge of panic running through your body as your wide eyes meet his. He’s blinking back at you, as if as shocked by your reaction as you were, and before you know it you’re glancing around, half expecting Ted or Beard to be there because why else would Jamie be here?
But neither of them are there, of course, they’d left twenty minutes ago.
“Coach Lasso and Beard have already left,” you explain before he can say anything. “You’re gonna have to wait until tomorrow to talk to–”
Shaking his head, Jamie takes a step towards you. “I wasn’ lookin’ for them. I, uh… was lookin’ for you actually.”
You blink. Once, twice, before your brows furrow. “What?”
He steps towards you again, fully stepping into your office as he scratches at his face absentmindedly, looking just as uncomfortable as you felt. He glances around for a moment before his gaze focuses back on you, and the serious expression on his face is one you’re not used to or know how to react to so you continue to stare blankly at him.
“I wanted to, em, apologize, I guess? Actually, no, not I guess. I am sorry. And I want to apologize for how I treated ya in the past. You know, for all the shitty things I said and did.”
You must be dreaming.
Surely, you’re dreaming.
There’s no way that the Jamie Tartt, famed football star and resident asshole, is apologizing to you. Some random female assistant coach on a team he’d once laughed at for existing? Yeah. Not possible.
But… it’s either that or he’s taking the piss out of you.
Whatever it is, the shock fades in seconds and is quickly replaced by an indescribable amount of anger. 
Because, honestly? Screw him. Screw him for thinking he could walk in here, say sorry and it’d all be okay. After all that he did.
“You’re sorry?” You ask, pointing at him.
He nods, slowly. 
“That’s funny,” is what you end up saying, letting out a snort as he blinks at you in surprise. “You sure didn’t seem sorry all those times you laughed at me when I tried to coach you. What was it you used to say?” You quirk a brow at him as his face falls, the hopeful glint that you’d accept his apology fading from his eyes as you laugh at him. “Oh, that’s right! That I wasn’t meant to be a coach because I’m a woman and rather, I should just look pretty and help make you look good. And if it wasn’t you belittling me for my job, it was you trying to get in my pants and then laughing about it as if that’s some sort of joke.”
You finish your rant with a huff, shoulders rising and falling heavily as Jamie continues to stare back at you.
You hadn’t really realized how much his comments had truly hurt until that moment. Or, rather, you’d pushed them down so far to the back of your mind that it had been bubbling up until this very moment where he tries to apologize offhandedly like that was going to somehow make things better.
“I may have only known you for a little bit before you left us for Manchester, Jamie,” you add, voice considerably calmer as you frown at him. “But you sure left an impression. And one little apology is not gonna make up for the amount of times I went home crying and feeling worthless, because of you.”
Jamie doesn’t say anything. His lips part like he means to you, but he ends up just gaping at you like a goldfish, looking rather stupid, before there’s a light knock on the door and you’re pulled from your thoughts only to find Sam poking his head into the office. He looks concerned, eyeing Jamie out of the corner of his eye with a certain edge, before turning to you.
Biting your lip, you blink, hating the way your vision blurs and quickly you wipe at your face before any tears can fall.
You refused to cry in front of Jamie.
“Just a second, Sam,” you call, offering him a small, somewhat forced smile. You turn to your desk, grabbing your bag and doing a quick survey to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything before promptly pushing your way past Jamie and slipping past Sam. He sets a hand on your back to guide you forward, blocking you from Jamie’s view and you don’t see it, but just before Sam turns to walk away himself, he’s sending Jamie a rather nasty glare.
The message is clear; leave her alone.
-
The next morning there’s a vase of flowers sitting on your desk.
Nate is eyeing them when you walk in, before he blinks at the sight of you and quickly turns away as if afraid you caught him staring. You just blink at him, before looking at the flowers once more.
Poking your head out to the main office, you gesture over your shoulder; “where’d the flowers come from?”
Beard raises his hands in a silent gesture that they’re not from him, before your gaze falls to Ted.
“Don’t look at me,” he shrugs. “You’d know if I got you flowers,” he winks with a light chuckle and rolling your eyes as you make your way to your desk. There’s a card in front of the vase and as you take a seat, you take the card, flipping it open.
All that’s written on it is the name of the flowers; Lily of the Valley.
Frowning, you let your eyes wander across the white flowers, leaning forward to smell them and letting your eyes fall shut at the sweet scent. 
Only thing is, who sent them?
Leaning back on your chair, you peek into the locker room, trying to see who of the players is there. There’s not too many. There’s Sam, but you walked in with him so you know it’s not him, also he most likely would’ve just given them to you if he was going to get you a bouquet of flowers. Isaac’s there, but you doubt he’d give them to you. Richard and Dani are there, but they're much too forward to try and secretly give you flowers.
And then your eyes fall on Jamie. He’s already looking at you, but he’s quick to glance away the second your eyes fall on him, his cheeks turning a bit red.
Your brows furrow.
It couldn’t–
“Apparently, Lily of the Valley symbolizes apology. Specifically when one doesn’t know how to apologize.” Nate explains, reading off of his phone, the card from your desk in his other hand, before he glances at you with a curious smile. “I wonder who wanted to apologize to you?”
You glance at Nate, before the flowers, before peeking back at Jamie who’s tying the laces of his boots, pointedly not glancing up.
Moving back towards your desk, you stare at the flowers a moment longer.
What the actual hell.
-
“Oh, just–”
Before you can properly register the voice, a blur of blue is suddenly in front of you, opening the door you’d been about to open yourself before your hand can even reach for the handle.
Slowly your eyes flicker upwards to fall on Jamie as he stands beside you, holding the door wide open, a rather proud smile plastered onto his face.
“There ya go,” he offers, head tilting towards the door. “Ladies first.”
Quirking a brow, you nod at Jamie slowly, stepping through the door while you try to fight the smile that threatens to curl onto your lips.
“Smooth, Tartt,” you offer over your shoulder.
He grins back at you, nodding at you.
You can’t help the laugh, however, when instead of stepping through the door like you expected (assuming he’d only done it cause he needed something from here in the first place), he lets the door shut with a goofy wave, leaving you alone in the room.
Pausing, you shake your head.
That was new.
-
“And you, Coach?”
It takes you half a second to realize Jamie is talking to you and you only really realize it because Ted, Beard and Nate are all looking at you, waiting.
Blinking, you swallow thickly, eyes falling back on the team only to see they’re all staring at you as well, also waiting. Your eyes fall on Jamie and he’s smiling at you, happy and all teeth as he rocks on his feet, patiently waiting for you to say anything you might or might not have to say.
It’s not like the rest of the team hadn’t ever asked you for your opinion or if you had any pointers. And of course Ted made sure to consistently ask for your suggestions, wanting to make sure you felt your voice was heard and included.
As the only female coach for a male’s football team, you’d managed to find yourself an incredible group of boys who listened to you despite your gender and actively made sure to try out anything you suggested.
But never had you ever had all their attention like you do in that moment. All of them just standing there, solely focused on you.
And that was because of Jamie.
Biting your lip, you shuffle on your feet. “Oh, well… I–”
But your voice is shaky and you’re not sure how to say what you want, but as your eyes flicker back over to Jamie he’s still grinning at you, smile never wavering and he’s sending you a thumbs up.
As if to say; you got this.
And then the words just seem to pour from your lips after that.
-
The addition of Roy Kent to the line up of coaches is both positive and negative.
And really, it isn’t negative for anyone but yourself. Not that having Roy on the team was negative, just, well… It was already hard enough being the only women assistant coach with two other men, but now you were competing with three men and Roy was nothing if not an intimidating and commandeering addition to the team.
His desk had been squished in between yours and Nate’s and while the man was lovely, if not a little aggressive, by the end of his first day you found yourself drained and feeling like a fool. Roy wasn’t just another man, but he was a previous football star himself; he had the on field experience to back up his suggestions and he knew what he was talking about so that when he did say something, no one really batted an eye to his suggestions.
Or, at least, questioned them.
Worst part was you liked Roy. Sure he swore a lot, and sometimes he’d grunt instead of replying to you but before he’d had to leave the team, he’d always listened to your suggestions with an open mind and never made you or the suggestions feel less just because it was a woman saying them. He was an absolute sweetheart underneath all of the gruff, and you knew him outside of work quite well as well because he was dating Keeley.
So, with the jealousy that you couldn’t help but have, you also felt extremely guilty. 
“Are… Are you alrigh’?”
Gasping, you sit up at the voice, panicked eyes glancing around until you settle on Jamie.
“Jesus, Tartt,” you breathe, pressing a hand to your chest as you shake your head. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry,” he offers with a light laugh. “I didn’ mean to.”
“It’s fine,” you sigh, letting yourself relax once more as you slump against the wall behind you, pulling your knees closer to yourself. “I just thought I was alone. Didn’t think anyone would come wandering in here.”
Jamie steps into the room at that, letting the door shut behind him as he nods. “Saw you come in ‘ere,” he explains, taking a seat across from you. “Wanted to make sure you were alrigh’”
Shaking your head, you brush him off; “I'm fine.”
“You, um… you sure?”
Turning to Jamie, he’s staring back at you in a way that tells you he doesn’t believe you. He’s got a concerned look in his eyes and he’s fidgeting with his fingers, his knee rocking nervously as he tries to find the words to say.
Sighing, you shake your head; “it’s stupid.”
“Not when it comes to ya.”
Blinking, you turn to Jamie, lips parted in surprise. Except, he doesn’t seem shocked by what he said or embarrassed. He continues to stare back at you with that concerned look in his gaze, patiently waiting for you to explain what’s going on.
“It’s just… It’s hard,” you start, struggling to find the words. How do you explain to him, not only a man but the same man that used to belittle you for the exact same thing you’re feeling self conscious about, that you feel like you’re being tested in your own job everyday just because you’re a woman? You weren’t sure he’d understand. And honestly, although you’ve seen the changes in him and regrettably started to believe them, you weren’t positive he wouldn’t just laugh at you for it anyways.
And yet, you continue to speak.
“Being what I am at my job,” you add, eyeing him carefully.
Jamie frowns. “Being a woman?”
Inhaling sharply, you nod; “yeah. I know Ted and the rest of the guys would never belittle me or make me feel less because I am, but… It’s just hard being the only woman coach for a team of men. Even if you guys don’t mean to, and I know you don’t, you all naturally gravitate towards Ted and the guys more than you do me.”
Lips parting, Jamie stares back at you.
Avoiding his gaze, you glance down at your lap. “Makes me doubt myself sometimes.”
“Oh.”
Nodding, you pull at a thread on your pants. “Yeah. Oh.”
Silence follows and you feel ten times more uncomfortable as the seconds pass. You can still feel Jamie’s gaze on you, watching, waiting, maybe trying to find something to say, and it’s making you feel more and more embarrassed as time goes. 
Shaking your head, you suddenly move to a stand.
“Anyways, it’s late so you should–”
“I think yer an amazing coach.”
Lips left parted, you turn, only to find Jamie suddenly standing in front of you.
“You make great strategy plays, you are undeniably smart about the terminology and nobody cares about the wellbeing of the team more than you,” he continues, his gaze never once faltering. “You cheer us on and never ever make us feel like we’re doing something wrong or stupid for askin’ for help. I know it feels like we listen to the guys more, but every single one of us leans on your advice heavily and we’d be lost without yer support and guidance.”
Eyes widening, you don’t realize it until you blink that you’re crying.
Your hand falls to your cheek, feeling wetness.
“Shit,” Jamie curses and your eyes fall back on him. “I didn’t mean to make ya cry, I just–”
Your arms wound around him before he can finish, pulling him flush against you as you press your head into the crook of his neck. Jamie freezes at the touch, body tensing but just for a second before he eases, his own arms coming around to wrap around you in return.
“Thank you,” you whisper to him, “I… Thank you so much.”
“O-Of course,” he murmurs, voice low and you can feel his chest rumble against your cheek. “I just… thought ya should know.”
Biting your lip, you pull back at that, quickly wiping the tears off your cheeks as you step away from him. Jamie lets you go with ease, both of your cheeks red, yours burning when you realize you’d not only just flung yourself at him but you’d gotten his shirt wet with your tears.
“I.. I’m sorry,” you whisper, gesturing to his chest. “I didn’t mean to cry on you.”
Jamie shrugs; “no worries, love.”
Meeting his eyes, the two of you stare at each other for a moment, before you’re quickly stepping past him. “Anyways, I should… I should go.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah. Me… Me too.”
Reaching for the door, you glance back at him; “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Nodding, Jamie grins down at you; “see you tomorrow.”
-
“We’ve got a problem.”
Both Keeley and Rebecca turn to you at your words, whatever they’d been saying promptly getting cut off the second they see the panic on your face.
Rushing you inside, they settle on either side of you on Rebecca’s couch in her office, Keeley’s arm wrapped around your waist and Rebecca offering you a cup of tea as they turn to you with concerned eyes.
“Okay, lay it out,” Rebecca says, “what’s wrong and who do I have to fire?”
Letting out a light laugh, you shake your head. “You don’t have to fire anyone.”
“Good,” she nods, “because I didn’t want to fire anyone.”
Rolling your eyes teasingly, you take a sip of your tea before reaching forward to set it on the table.
“Okay, then, babes,” Keeley speaks up, frowning at you, “then what’s the matter? You came in here looking like something horrible’s happened.”
Letting out a groan, you press your hands to your face; “that’s because something horrible has happened.”
“What?” Keeley presses, squeezing your arm.
Taking a deep breath, you hesitate a moment, eyeing the both of them, before you whisper in shame; “I think I fancy Jamie.”
There’s a beat of silence, before;
“Like Tartt?” Keeley asks, eyes widening in absolute surprise. “Jamie Tartt? Our Jamie Tartt?”
“Like on my team Richmond, Jamie Tartt?” Rebecca adds, pointing at herself before gesturing to her office.
Cheeks burning, you hide your face in your hands again. “Yes.”
Keeley and Rebecca eye each other for a moment, before Rebecca’s pulling your hands away from your face.
“Y/N.”
You just shake your head, trying to grab a pillow to further hide yourself.
“Babes, stop,” Keeley laughs lightly. “Explain to us why you fancy Jamie.”
“Yeah,” Rebecca encourages. “It’s alright.”
Hands falling to your lap with a huff, you frown. “It’s all his fault,” you whine. “Because he’s trying to be better now and I can’t handle that. Before, you know, when he was a prick, that’s just it! He was a prick. And I’m sorry Keeley for saying this but I always found him a little attractive.”
Snorting, Keeley shakes his head; “babes, why do you think I dated him?”
Biting your lip, you sigh. “But he was awful, right?” She nods and Rebecca snorts, clearly feeling that’s an understatement. “And when he came back, I was so mad. Mad because he was so mean and laughed at me and belittled me for being a woman, and not to mention he was terrible to the whole team. Like when he used to bully Nate or hog the ball and never give Sam a chance to show his skill.”
They both nod to your words.
“So I was upset. Upset because he was back and because Ted didn’t tell me or ask me how I felt. And I said to myself that this whole apology thing was just an act and he’d go right back to being his old self in a few days. I was proud of myself too because when he tried to apologize, I didn’t let him.” Keeley squeezes your arm at that and Rebecca smiles proudly. “But then the next day I came in and he bought my flowers!”
Their eyes widen.
“He did?”
“Yeah,” you nod at Keeley. “A big bouquet of Lily of the Valley and you know what Lily of the Valley symbolizes?”
Keeley shakes her head and Rebecca sighs, shoulders falling. “Apology,” she explains for you. “You give them to someone you hurt and don’t know how to apologize to.”
Keeley’s lips part in disbelief; “I never got fucking Lily of the Valley’s.”
Sinking into the couch, you cry out; “exactly! And then he starts opening doors for me and helping me pack things up… he’s listening to me in practice when he never used to, deliberately asking for my opinion after practice after the rest of the coaches have said their pieces. He tells the rest of the team to shut up if he feels they’re not listening to me and he asks me for pointers alone so he can get better. And! God! I was upset and he made this whole big speech about how amazing a coach I am and how the team appreciates me and shit and then I hugged him and cried on him and he didn’t laugh at me or make me feel like shit. He… he was actually really fucking sweet.”
The second you’re done ranting, Keeley and Rebecca glance at each other, before coming to the same conclusion.
“Well,” Keeley says hesitantly. “It definitely sounds like you fancy him.”
Pulling at your hair, you let out a cry. 
“No, no,” Rebecca shakes her hand, pulling your hands away from your face and holding them safely in her own. “It’s fine, love. Jamie has really turned himself around.”
“He has,” Keeley is quick to agree. “I mean, he never did any of that stuff for me and we were already in a relationship.”
“But it isn’t fine,” you argue, shaking your head. “Because he’s Jamie Tartt, and he’s fucking fit and now he’s nice too… and he’s a star football player and I’m just Y/N Y/L/N, some random assistant female coach on a team of male football players. No one knows me and I’m not special and I’m not a model or a celebrity or any of the usual types he goes for.”
“That is absolutely not true,” Rebecca says instantly, face appalled as if she can’t believe you’ve just said what you have.
“You are Y/N fucking Y/L/N.” Keeley adds, moving to grip your cheeks tightly between her hands. “The first and only female assistant coach of Richmond who has come up with more strategy plays that have helped us win than anyone else. Not to mention, you are proper fit. You are an absolutely fucking gorgeous and successful woman that Jamie would be incredibly lucky to have.”
Lips parting, you blink. Keeley and Rebecca are both looking at you in a way that leaves no room for arguments and feeling your eyes water, you pout; “you mean that?”
“Of course I fucking mean that.”
“Y/N,” Rebecca calls, squeezing your hands tightly. “I am so proud of you and the woman that you are and incredibly lucky to have you as a coach for my team. I know that, Keeley knows that, the team knows that and it looks like Jamie is aware of that more than anyone else. I know it’s hard to leave yourself vulnerable like this, but at least give him a shot.”
Biting your lip, you meet her eyes, finding the reassurance in them you needed before you glance over at Keeley who is grinning widely, nodding.
“Okay,” you whisper. “Okay.”
-
You’d believed what Rebecca and Keeley said.
Of course you did because you know they’d never lie to you.
And you’d promised them you’d give Jamie a chance before simply believing there’s no way he’d like you. But promising and doing was a lot different, and it’s hard to find the chance to say anything to him over the next few days.
The whole team is anxious because of the game against Manchester City coming up, especially since the last time they’d played them, it was the match that had gotten them regulated. Adding even more to that, Jamie had been on the Manchester team when that had happened and even though you know he’d made great strides towards making up with the team since coming back to Richmond, he was just anxious as the rest of them.
For a multitude of reasons you didn’t understand.
So, there wasn’t a chance to say anything.
And there certainly wasn’t one now that they’d lost. You’d briefly wondered to yourself that if they won, maybe you could run to Jamie and just confess your feelings then, thick in the adrenaline of it all. Like they did in the movies. All sweet and romantic.
Only, Richmond hadn’t won and you certainly weren’t going to now.
Especially when you were just as disappointed as the rest of them.
You’re speaking with Ted and Roy in the locker room when Jamie’s father comes in, and any conversation you’d been having falls silent the second he does.
You watch in stunned silence as Jamie’s father makes an embarrassment of himself, laughing and joking as he makes fun of the team's loss before zeroing in on Jamie himself. He says the cruelest things, and everything clicks in that moment why Jamie was the way that he was before he’d left Richmond.
And when Jamie punches his father straight across the face, you jump and your hands fall to your lips but you’re not shocked and you don’t think Jamie is wrong either.
No one says anything and no one does anything as Beard drag’s Jamie’s father out of the locker room and Jamie stands there, still standing in a defensive position. You want to do something, you want to say something, but you don’t think it’s your place. And you don’t know if Jamie would even feel all that much comfort with having you do anything.
Roy steps past you in the next second, taking Jamie into his arms and he loses it then, his sobs echoing throughout the otherwise silent room.
Ted runs past you at one point, but you don’t notice, eyes stuck on that of Jamie and Roy.
Then, Roy’s pulling away, but Jamie’s still got tears in his eyes, pressing his hand to his eyes as he tries to hide away. Suddenly, Roy’s eyes are on you, and he’s smiling in a knowing way, before promptly kicking everyone else out of the room. Your eyes widen as he does, body tensing in panic as Roy nods at you just before shutting the door behind him, leaving just you and Jamie in the room alone.
You can hear him sniffling to himself, a small sob breaking past his lips as you stand there, feeling out of place and like you’re stepping past his boundaries. So, slowly, you step towards him. “I can, uh, leave too if you’d like some–”
“No,” is all Jamie says before he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you tightly as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. You freeze at the action at first, unsure what to do or say, before slowly your body eases, and your arms are raising, hands falling to his back as you squeeze him tightly.
He clutches onto you, sobbing into your neck, and you let him wordlessly, rubbing his back in smooth, slow patterns in a way you hope is comforting.
And the two of you stay like that for a while.
-
Your relationship from then on changes.
More than it already had.
You find yourself willingly hanging out with him when you would’ve avoided it otherwise before. Jamie always seems to be there, lending a helping hand or letting you talk his ear off about something or another.
The two of you never really spoke about what had happened in that locker room but you didn’t need to. It went without saying. You understood Jamie in a way that you hadn’t before, and although it didn’t excuse it, it made sense why he’d been the way had been before and it showed him trying to be better meant a lot more than it had before.
So, the season ends, and you watch the changes Jamie’s doing with a smile and a completely different attitude. When he gives Dani the shot, or when he joins in on team chants before matches. He’s still arrogant and cocky, but it’s in a more loveable way than it had been before, and now when he comes in every morning wearing his stupid ICON hat and dumb sunglasses, you can barely hide the smile that curls onto your lips.
Or the way that despite him wearing such stupid things, you think he looks ridiculously hot.
The season ends and then the new one starts up with one less coach after Nate had left only to join West Ham. It had certainly been a betrayal and you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t hurt. You’d always felt like Nate had understood you in a way maybe some of the others didn’t and the two of you had shared that office alone for so long that you couldn’t help the way you’d cried when you’d realized what he’d done.
Jamie holds you through it. 
A soft, gentle and comforting presence that never makes you feel silly for feeling so hurt and betrayed and for that, you’re eternally grateful.
Suddenly, Jamie is someone you can’t live without. You look forward to every morning you see him walk into the locker room, and you find yourself texting him at night, unable to stop the giddy feeling that floods you every time you hear your phone ding and see it’s him calling or texting you.
Keeley and Rebecca tease you all whilst constantly trying to get you to confess. You always say that you will, but you never do.
You’re mad for him, that you know but you don’t know if he’s mad for you and you don’t want to ruin the relationship the two of you have built just because of your stupid feelings. It was nice having him as a friend, and although every time you saw him you just wanted to kiss him, you didn’t want to lose that friendship either.
So you never say anything.
-
“So, I would suggest just–”
“Y/N–?”
Lips left parted at the sound of Sam, you turn to him as he pokes his head into the office. He freezes when he sees Jamie standing behind you, the two of you going over one of his plays, your hand left held with the whiteboard marker and he winces. “I’m so sorry. I did not mean to interrupt you two.”
Jamie is waving his hand in reassurance as you smile at Sam, letting your hand fall; “it’s fine, Sam. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to drive you home tonight,” he explains, chancing a quick glance at Jamie before focusing back on you. “I have to run by the restaurant before heading home and I’m not sure how long it will take.”
“Oh,” you blink, shaking your head. “It’s fine, Sam. I can walk home tonight. It’s no problem.” Then, cheekily, you can’t help but add; “as long as when you finally do let me see your restaurant, everything is on the house.”
Laughing, Sam shakes his head; “it already was. And for you,” he points at you with a grin, “it’ll always be.”
Smilingly, you nod, waving him goodbye as he does the same, slipping out of the office. You laugh quietly to yourself as he does, before turning to find Jamie’s eyes on you, and you blink; “sorry,” you offer bashfully. “Where were we–”
“I didn’t know Sam drove you home?”
Pausing, you shift back to face Jamie. “Oh, yeah. He saw that I was walking home one night, offered me a drive and it’s been like that since.”
Jamie nods, slowly. “You two are close.”
“Um, yeah?” You agree with a shrug. “Sam is easy to talk to, I guess. Super friendly and kind.”
“Hm,” Jamie hums lightly. “He does look like he’d make a good boyfriend.”
It takes you half a second to register what Jamie’s said both because you feel that’s a weird observation for Jamie to make and also because when in that conversation did you say he was your boyfriend?
“We’re not dating,” you explain, shaking your head as you laugh. “We’re just friends.”
Jamie’s eyes widen, cheeks warming in faint embarrassment but… is that a hint of relief you see? Probably not, you’re just psyching yourself out.
“Oh.”
Nodding, you bite your lip; “yeah.”
“Cool,” Jamie hums and you raise a brow at him, before turning back to the whiteboard.
“Did you wanna…?”
Jamie is quick to agree, shifting on his feet to put his focus back on what you were saying before Sam had stepped in. But then, just as your lips part to continue, Jamie is interrupting you;
“I could drive you home.”
He says it so nonchalantly you think you imagine him saying it at first.
You glance at him over your shoulder, and he turns to you.
“If you’d like.”
“Um,” and you hate the way your voice shakes or the nerves that rattle your entire being. “Sure… Sure, that’d… that’d be great. If you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” he assures with a grin. “Why would I mind having a pretty girl in me car?”
Cheeks burning you quickly glance back ahead of yourself to not let him see how much that simple comment made your heart flutter and your insides feel like jelly. Inhaling sharply, it’s hard to fight the smile from curling onto your lips as you move to continue saying what you’d been trying to say before.
You’re so focused that you don’t see Jamie watching you, a grin curling onto his own lips when he sees how flustered you are.
-
“Pretty coach.”
Halting in your step, you glance up, only to have to crane your head upwards when you find Zava, the star player Rebecca had managed to score, staring down at you. He’s tall, very tall, and you’re not exactly sure why he’s here, in the middle of the hall, or why he’s talking to you.
“Zava,” you greet nervously, offering a small smile.
He’s stepping towards you, effectively closing the distance between you as your eyes widen, freezing when he reaches forward to take your hand in his own. Before you know it, he’s pressing his lips against the top of your hand, a gentle, swift kiss as he glances at you through his lashes, smirking.
“I look forward to working under you as my coach,” he explains, accent thick as he pulls his lips away. It doesn’t escape your notice that he doesn’t let go of your hand, though.
“Oh, um, me–me too. But you’ll mainly be working under Coach Lasso since he’s the head–...”
Your words trail when you realize he’s not really listening. He’s just… staring. Directly at you.
Swallowing thickly, with your free hand, you touch your face; “is there something on my–”
“Oh no, no,” he laughs gently, squeezing your hand. “You just have the most beautiful eyes.”
Feeling yourself warm, you meet his eyes in surprise before glancing down at your feet, “oh, um, thank–”
“Oi.”
The new voice is sharp and your head is spinning over your shoulder only to see Jamie promptly making his way over to you. You’re surprised by how angry he looks, but his attention isn’t focused on you and rather Zava as he quickly makes his way over, pulling your hand out of Zava’s and gently pushing you behind him as he blocks you from sight from Zava. You flush when you realize Jamie’s still holding onto your hand, before slowly peeking over his shoulder.
“Tartt,” Zava grins, “it’s wonderful to see you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jamie huffs. “Just keep your hands to yourself, okay?”
Raising his hands in surrender, Zava laughs, stepping back as he moves to walk away. His eyes catch yours and he winks at you before turning to walk off.
“Prick.” Jamie hisses under his breath.
You pause at that, turning to him only to see his eyes set in a glare, watching Zava disappear down the hall before you let out a giggle. Jamie’s eyes fall on you the second you do, gaze softening when he sees you giggling.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you smile, biting your lip as you glance up at him. “Just funny. You're calling him a prick.”
Jamie’s eyes widen in mock hurt; “he is!”
“Sure,” you shrug. “And so were you.”
“But not anymore,” he teases, rolling his eyes at you.
“True,” you agree, shocking him by how easily you do. You just continue to smile at him, “definitely not anymore.”
Jamie stares down at you, eyes never leaving your face. “He’s right about one thing, though.”
Quirking a brow, you tilt your head; “yeah? And what’s that?”
“You do have the most beautiful eyes.”
That was the last thing you expected.
Lips parting, you’re burning red as you promptly slap Jamie in the arm.
“Ow!” He hisses, pulling away as his hand (regrettably) leaves yours. “What was that for?”
You just stare back at him, pouting, embarrassed, hoping he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating.
Or notice that the way he said it meant way more than it did coming from Zava.
“Prick.”
Jamie just blinks, pouting; “what did I do?”
-
You let out a laugh as Jamie comes running up on the bus cheering about seeing Windmills, shaking your head with a grin as the rest of the guys cheer him on.
He walks down the aisle, high fiving a few of the guys until his eyes settle on you. Leaning your head against the seat, you grin cheekily up at him. “Did you have a fun night?” You ask with a head tilt, biting the inside of your cheek.
Smiling down at you, Jaime nods; “yeah, you?”
“Perfect,” you assure. “Spent a quiet night in my room.”
“The boys didn’t keep ya company?” He frowns, and he looks like he’s about to say something before you quickly reach forward, grabbing his wrist.
“That was team bonding stuff, silly,” you roll your eyes. “Besides, I had the most relaxing bath. It was fine.”
He glances down at you, not saying anything, but you feel your chest tighten when you see the way his eyes glance across your entire figure at the word bath.
Ignoring the butterflies, you smile; “saved you a seat, see?” You gesture to the empty window seat next to you, and Jamie laughs.
“You want the window seat?”
“Yup,” you grin, shuffling over to the other side as Jamie takes your old spot. You settle down next to him, arm brushing against his as he grins over at you.
“You got lots of training done last night?”
Jamie nods, “yup. Taugh’ Roy how to ride a bike.”
Brows furrowing, you briefly wonder how that happened in the midst of training but you let it go all the same, shrugging as you laugh. “But you made sure to get some rest, yes?” You add, turning to him with a quirked brow. “Because you remember what I said about training? If you push yourself too hard, you’re not going–”
“–to help anyone,” he finishes for you with a chuckle. “Yes, I remember.”
“Good,” you nod, squeezing his arm. 
“And you?”
Blinking, you turn to him.
“Did you get some rest last night?”
You nod, touched by his concern. “Yeah,” you assure, “like I said, spent the night in my room, resting.”
“Good,” he repeats your words from earlier and you turn your head away to the window when you feel yourself smiling.
Yet, despite that, an hour later, you’ve passed out on Jamie’s very own shoulder, softly snoring away.
Jamie is careful not to move, not wanting to wake you up, but when Dani turns to take a photo excitedly, he doesn’t stop him.
“Hey,” he whispers to Dani, “send that to me, okay?”
-
“You need to talk to Jamie.”
Raising a brow, you glance up at Roy.
“...I do?”
“He’s a mess,” is all Roy says.
“Okay…?”
“And you need to talk to him.”
Biting your lip, you hum; “because?”
Huffing, Roy rolls his eyes like you’re the one being annoying. “Because you’re the only one he’ll listen to, so you need to talk to him and get him out of whatever funk he’s in.”
“Okay,” you nod, “I’ll talk to him.”
-
You don’t get the chance to talk to him until you’ve arrived at the hotel the night before the game and even then it’s not really you talking to him.
The movie you’d all watched together is over and Ted had set a curfew but Jamie is taking your hand in his, throwing his hood up and leading you out of the hotel without another word. You glance over your shoulder to see Roy glancing at you in confusion, but you just shrug your shoulders and then Keeley is sending you two thumbs up with a bright grin and before you know it, you both are out the hotel and making your way across the street.
You let him lead, expecting him to say something, but he never really does. He’s eerily silent the entire walk, and it isn't until twenty minutes have passed that you finally tug on his grip and pull him to a stop. He glances back at you in surprise but you’re just shaking your head up at him, confused.
“If this is your way of getting me alone to murder me, I’m going to be really upset.”
He blinks at your words, confused at first, before he shakes his head. “No, no… of course not. I… I want you to meet someone.”
“Oh,” you mumble, feeling yourself ease as you meet his gaze. He’s staring back at you, obviously waiting for you to agree and with a gentle smile, you nod.
“Okay.”
It’s his mom.
He wanted you to meet his mom. 
You’re confused, extremely so, as Jamie leads you up the steps to a house, knocks and some older gentleman opens the door. He recognizes Jamie and invites the both of you in, and you’re left standing in the entrance way, baffled as you hug your coat closer to yourself, until a woman comes running down the stairs, screaming Jamie’s name and then suddenly she’s in his arms and he’s spinning her and calling her ‘mommy’ and it all clicks.
You can't help the smile that curls onto your lips at the sight, feeling like you’re being allowed to see a side of Jamie others rarely were.
And when Jamie introduces you to his mom, the smile turns into shock when she says; “you’re the one Jamie’s told me so much about!” And before you even have time to register those words or see Jamie glancing at you, she’s wrapping you up in her arms and hugging you so tightly as she gushes about how much she’s wanted to meet you.
You spend the night being welcomed by his mother and her boyfriend, before you leave Jamie to have his much needed conversation with his mom. Simon shows you around the house, before leaving you to glance around Jamie’s childhood bedroom yourself. You all but squeal at his Roy Kent poster, before rolling your eyes at Keeley’s, but happily glance round the rest of the room. You look at all his trophies and childhood photos, little drawings he’d done or books he’d read.
Before you know it, Jamie’s poking his head into the room and calling for you.
“Oh, Jamie,” you smile, “are you all done catching up with your mom?”
He nods, “yeah, you wanna get out of here? Go back to the hotel?”
“Sure,” you agree with ease, stepping toward him. He sets his hand against your back, leading you back towards the door where you say your final goodbyes. You thank Simon for the tour and give Georgie a huge hug, expressing how happy you were to meet her before she makes you promise you’ll come by and visit again.
You’re not quite sure how to reply to that, but it’s okay because Jamie does it for you, promising the two of you will stop by for an actual dinner soon.
And then, it’s just the two of you, making your way back to the hotel.
“So,” you call out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “You told your mum about me?”
Jamie rolls his eyes at that, huffing. “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”
That certainly isn’t the response you were expecting, so, with warm cheeks, you glance at your feet.
“Got it all sorted now?”
Jamie hums, “yup. Sorry if I worried ya.”
You shake your head. “Think you had Roy in more of a panic, if I’m being honest. Poor man couldn’t breathe, he was so worried.”
Jamie snorts at that, lightly nudging you with his arm. “So, ya weren’ worried at all?”
Turning your head, your smile fades as you meet his gaze. “No, I was. I just didn’t want to overstep.”
“You could never overstep,” Jamie assures, “I should’ve been open about how I was feelin’. Just needed to sort it out for meself.”
Smiling softly to yourself, you hug your hands behind your back. “Well, I’m glad you figured it all out, Jamie. Really. Now you can kick some serious ass tomorrow, yeah?” You’re smiling as you say it, nudging him back with your own arm as the two of you continue to walk.
Then, suddenly, Jamie stops.
Frowning, you glance back at him; “are you–?”
“Me mum helped me with somethin’ else.”
“Oh,” you mumble, not sure where he was going with this. “What’s that?”
“Said I should stop being such a pussy and tell you how I really feel.”
Lips parting, you freeze. “Oh.”
Jamie nods, slow, and you can tell he’s nervous by the way he’s shuffling on his feet. “So… here goes.”
Your eyes widen when he steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you until he’s right in front of you, inches away. Your eyes follow him, head tilted back as you stare up at him, unsure what to do or say. But you don’t need to, because Jamie is speaking up in the next second.
“I’m in love with ya,” he confesses, letting the words just slip past his lips. “I’ve been in love with ya since you hugged me after me dad in Wembley. Maybe before that, I dunno. All I know is that when I came back to Richmond, all I was focused on was makin’ everyone like me again and then you yelled at me that day in yer office and I realized it was more than that. It wasn’t just about makin’ people like me, but makin’ up for the cruel things I'd done. I’m so sorry for the way I treated ya before, but I want you to know that I think the absolute world of ya. You are kind and sweet and smart and proper fit and… I dunno, you might not feel the same but I don’t wanna go on another day not having you know how crazy I am for ya.”
His words settle, carry on in the silence, as you stare back up at him, lips left parted, disbelief coursing through your veins.
Jamie’s confidence wavers as the silence carries and he’s shuffling on his feet in worry as he swallows thickly. “You don’t have to say anythin’,” he assures, rambling now with nerves. “I just wanted ya to know, so–”
But you cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his own.
Jamie stumbles back from the pure force of the kiss at first, before he catches his balance and the shock fades and his hands are falling on your waist as he squeezes, returning the kiss with just as much passion. Maybe more. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to do this for weeks, and you realize, he maybe has. He holds you like you're the only thing in that moment that matters and you let yourself sink into his touch, turning to putty in his hands as you thread your fingers through his hair.
Then, slowly, you pull away, breathless as he smiles down at you.
“I love you too,” you whisper, “since the day you left me those flowers.”
Jamie’s eyes widen and his lips part but you don’t have the care to be embarrassed by your confession; it just felt good to finally, finally be able to say the words out loud.
“And I am so excited to see you kick ass tomorrow.” You breathe out, pressing your hands to his cheeks as you smile up at him, eyes dazed and sparkling with delight. 
Pressing his forehead against yours, Jamie presses a gentle kiss to your lips.
“And I can’t wait to see you kick ass tomorrow.”
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chemical override (nocturnal file) 18+
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: oh, no! What is this? Did I let my imagination get the better of me again? To those of you asking for smut, this is one way we can satisfy those desires. Oh, and no taglist for this file - whoever finds it, finds it. It'll be our (and Ewan's!) little secret.
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Aemond's patience is sorely being tested.
The battle is on the morrow, and the Blackwood bitch refuses to relent useful intelligence on the enemy's doings.
Aemond had captured her as a prize of war, and kept her in the dungeons of the Red Keep. He would visit her every so often, trying to get her to break, to see her relentlessly vexing spirits dimmed.
But to no avail. She is as stubborn as her entire, rotten lot. This bastard daughter of House Blackwood, a formidable swordswoman in her own right, would be someone whom Aemond might admire, if the circumstances were different.
If he did not hate her with every fibre of his being.
It is callous, almost desperate. He did not know of his precise aim when he asked the guards to deposit her in his chambers.
Yet here she is.
Hair matted and skin decorated with grime and mud and dried blood. The blood isn't even hers - she had clawed and fought tooth and nail when Aemond attempted to subdue her. And he did. But it feels as if he had gained nothing out of it.
Only the presence of this rough and foul-mouthed bastard girl, a sorry excuse for a lady.
If only she did not possess a fire that Aemond hadn't seen before in anyone else. If only she wasn't so fucking beautiful.
"Do you plan to question me some more, One-Eye? Or are you finally going to kill me?"
With those words, Aemond realises that he never planned to kill her. Nor does he ever wish to. She is his prize, after all.
And his prize throws him off guard with another query, "Or perhaps... you would do away with all this pretense and fuck me like your whore?"
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Aemond lunges forward and grips her jaw. She only smirks, as if enjoying it, "I've seen the way you look at me, One-Eye. You'd sooner bed me than get rid of me, admit it."
He towers over her figure, imposing and formidable, and yet it is she that has the upper hand. He feels unsure for once. Of what is to happen next. Of his own compromised desires.
So she decides for him, when she rises on her tiptoes and presses her warm mouth to his.
It feels wretched. It is revolting, kissing the enemy, and yet Aemond finds himself leaning closer. He drags her to his bed and pushes her down atop the sheets. She flops like a rag doll, groaning in protest, but then spreads her legs wide open, inviting him in.
"Fuck you, bastard," he licks a stripe down her neck, his actions negating his words, "You are nothing to me."
"By all means, One-Eye," she only purrs, "fuck me."
That is all he needs. He rips off all trace of clothing from their wanting bodies. Positioning himself, he torments her with his hardened cock prodding at her wet cunny.
With an animalistic growl of both rage and surrender, he thrusts inside, and she feels him deep in the warmth of her cunt. His balls smack against the skin of her arse, and again when he slides out and back in. All the way in.
"Gods, One-Eye," she traces the scar on his cheekbone with one delicate finger, the motion gentle and almost foreign, "you're not letting me go after this, are you?"
"Never," he rasps, connecting his lips against hers, resuming his thrusting. "Uhhhhh, fuck, fuck," he moans against her parted mouth, his sounds turning into hissing when she resorts to digging her nails into his back as he slams his cock in roughly, right to the hilt.
"What will... become of... me, hmm?" she asks, in between panting. Their bodies grow sweaty, glistening in the candlelight. The lewd sounds of his cock fucking her aching pussy is like music to his ears. He cradles her face with one hand, and responds, "You will be mine. You are mine."
"I can't be, now, can I? You're still in New York," she says.
What did she say? Aemond startles, sitting back on his heels. With his cock still buried inside her, she follows suit so she sits on top of him. He nearly loses his mind when she gazes at him, biting her lip in the most lustful manner.
"I've never ridden a dragon before," she says, slowly gliding her pussy up and down his cock. "You feel so good, baby."
"B-baby?" Aemond does not understand the moniker. Is it customary among the Blackwoods to call a lover such? What a strange thing. And what did she mention before? What of this New Ark?
"I wish you were with me," she moans, bouncing on top of him, pressing her breasts against his face. Milking his cock like her life depends on it, and it just might. This Blackwood bastard would have leverage if she had dragonseed in her belly.
"I am with you," he breathes, before kissing her again, but she quickly pulls away.
"No you aren't, Ewan," she protests. "You're away."
Ewan?
"Ewan!" he hears someone call out. "Ewan, we yelled cut a while ago!"
Aemond - Ewan - blinks against an onslaught of bright light. The set is illuminated once more. He sees you still sitting on top of him, grinning impishly. But you're not fully naked as he thought - you wear pasties on your breasts in the same shade of your skin, as well as matching underwear. He looks down at this cock, and sees it covered in some fitted piece of cloth.
"Where are we, Blackwood?"
You only giggle lightly at his confusion, "Ewan, baby, are you still in character?"
"My... my name is Aemond."
"Oh, baby," you press your forehead to his, "of course it is. My Aemond."
"That was beautiful, you two," a woman approaches them, "All in all, a perfect take."
He hears himself speak, but he doesn't fully understand what he means, "It's easy because we are in love in real life, I suppose."
The Blackwood girl - you - shuffle over to the edge of the bed, and a woman comes forward and uses some brush on your face.
This is not the Red Keep. He is not Aemond?
He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to knock some sense into himself. When he opens them again, he finds himself transported in what looks like your hotel room in LA.
"Ewan," he hears you whisper. He looks down and the both of you are naked under the sheets, cuddling each other. He feels lighter now, more content. The sensation that he no longer possesses his long, silver hair washes over him.
Because he is Ewan, his identity sliding back into place like a puzzle piece.
And you're his love.
You place a kiss on his chest, then the crook of his neck, and finally, his lips.
"I want you," your words come so sweetly, so faint, and yet it sends shivers down his spine.
He feels your soft touch gliding against his skin, your fingers tracing the contours of his abs, then down, down, to his erect...
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Ewan's eyes fly open. He looks around the room frantically, trying to right himself and return to full consciousness.
He's in his hotel room in New York. The digital clock reads 4:40 AM. This would be the day of his meeting, and it's way too early to be awake.
That dream. Oh, fuck, that dream.
It has rendered him warm all over, covered in a sheen of sweat. He feels something straining under the covers. Under his boxers. Some thing to deal with.
A remnant of the dream, and of you.
Of you. It's depraved, and he feels like a hypersexual teenage boy. But it wouldn't be the first time. He reaches for his phone and finds his favourite picture of you.
The screen illuminates his face in the darkness. His other hand shamelessly creeps its way in the shadows, down below.
And with heavy-lidded eyes, and a yearning heart and body, he dreams.
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soooo, I think we all know what he did at the end 😉
I know this is not direct, full-on, real-person smut (I'm still on the fence about that) but whatever works, eh?
thanks for participating in our secret sessions! See you for part five of the series <3
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What Was I Made For? - James Potter
A/N: well, it looks like this keeps on working so... I hope you guys like it!
Anonymous asked: Request for hufflepuff black!reader x James with the prompt "Forget it. Just like you forget everything else." Where reader has never had a fun birthday celebration and usually ignores her birthday but James promises to do something fun for her and gets her hopes up but then stands her up accidentally (with happy ending please). Thanks so much &lt;;33
Warnings: this is super angsty! (and super long) but it has a happy ending; mentions of abuse and overall a not happy family life, reader feels weird for not really knowing how to express her feelings; let me know if I missed anything
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  
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What Was I Made For?
Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be Something I wait for, something I'm made for
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12:08 a.m. Your birthday was over. And he didn’t come. Of course, he wouldn’t come. You kept looking at your watch feeling a tiny bit of hope that he would come running any second, apologizing for being late. But, deep down, you knew it wasn’t going to happen. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, and decided to finally leave. You were angry. But not at him. At yourself. You should have known better. You never should have trusted a word he said. Because he treated you as if you were the center of his universe. And you were stupid enough to believe him. Because that’s what James Potter did. He made you feel as if you were the only thing that mattered to him. Damn him and his stupid beautiful smile. The one that got you into this mess…
“You actually want me to believe that you need my help in Potions?” you insisted as he raised his hands in surrender while you pointed your wand at him. “Why are you asking me?”
“B-because you’re top of our class-”
“That’s not true. Severus Snape is” you insisted.
“First of all, I would never ask Snivelly for help” he rolled his eyes. “And secondly, I doubt that’s true since you are a year younger than us and are already taking Advance Potions-”
“So ask Lilly Evans then-?”
“Evans hates me-”
“So do I!”
“Wait, y-you do?” he asked, confused, stepping away from your wand. He sounded genuinely hurt.
“I…” you weren’t able to continue. You never really hated James Potter. You hated him because you were supposed to, weren’t you? “D-don’t you?”
“I don’t hate you” he informed you. “Why would I?”
“Because Sirius does! And you’re his best friend” you told him. James noticed the hurt in your voice and in your look. He knew you missed Sirius.
“Your brother doesn’t hate you” he insisted and you scoffed, looking away and lowering your wand. “He doesn’t!”
“Look, Potter, you don’t have to lie, okay?” you glared at him a little. “Isn’t your father a famous potioneer? Shouldn’t you be good at Potions?”
“Yeah, he is… you gotta love the irony, love” he smirked.
“Don’t call me that!” you glared at him. “What if Sirius finds out?”
“He won’t” he assured you. “And I honestly don’t think he would mind if he does” he tried.
“What’s in it for me?”
“Isn’t the loveliness of my company enough, love?” he asked but he saw you raising your wand at him and he put up his hands in surrender. “Fine… what do you want?”
You thought about it for a moment. Nobody had ever asked you what you wanted. Not really. You were always just told what to do. And then, you thought of the one thing you had always wanted but could never do.
“Um… if I tell you… do you promise not to tell anyone? Or um… laugh at me?” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked down. James had to admit, he had never seen you like this. You always looked so confident, like everyone else in the Black family.
“I promise” he said, making you sigh.
“W-would you teach me um… how to uh- f-fly?” you asked in a small voice, James wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly.
“Um… didn’t you learn how to fly in your first year?” he asked, confused.
“Look, it’s a long story. Are you in or not?” you asked, going back to your usual self and James let out a small chuckle.
“Fine. It’s a deal. You teach me Potions, I teach you to fly” he said, putting his hand so you would shake it. Which you did, pulling him closer.
“And Sirius is not to find about this, is that clear?”
“Perfect.”
And that’s what it was. Perfect. For the following months, you and James spent a lot of time together. In the beginning, you found him incredibly obnoxious since he kept trying to become your friend. Which he quickly managed. You let your guard down and found yourself actually liking his company. And then, it grew into more. You never thought it could happen, but it did. He had somehow become your favorite person. Granted, not many people talked to you so, it wasn���t hard. But if there was a word you would use to describe James Potter was, enchanting. And you quickly fell for him. And you hated it. Because now, here you were. Tired, hungry, alone, and upset. You made your way to the Kitchens, hoping that you could at least get some leftovers from the Elves.
“Miss Black” one of them greeted you happily. “We thought you weren’t going to make it” he said, making you frown in confusion.
“M-make it? What do you mean, Blim?” you asked, confused as two other elves carried a basket your way.
“Mr. Potter asked us to save this for him but he never came” he explained, confused. “Said it was really important for Miss Black’s birthday” he instructed as they handed you the basket. You felt yourself smiling a little but quickly wiped it away. He never came.
“Thank you so much, Blim” you told him.
“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, Miss Black” he said, as they waved you goodbye. You thanked them happily, after all, they were the only ones that had wished you a happy birthday, and then you made your way to your dorm.
“Hi, Ophelia” you greeted your beautiful black cat.
At least she showed up for your birthday. You changed into your pajamas, played some of your favorite music on your record player, and sat on the small seat you had created against your window to go through the picnic basket only to find your favorite food. He’d remember. Everything was perfect, even the cake. Except, he hadn’t been there. He promised he would and you believed him. You knew Gryffindor played today. You knew they won. But he promised. And you believed him.
But again, it was your fault, really. You should have never let him in. You should have never told him what your favorite food was. Or why you didn’t know how to fly. Or that nobody in your house wanted to share a dorm with you anymore. You shouldn’t even have told him that today was your birthday. Well, yesterday. Because you now understood what he felt for you. It was pity. It wasn’t love.
“Alright, are you ready?” he asked, holding up the broom.
“Actually… I’m having second thoughts about this. I don’t want to do it” you said, nervously.
“Come on, love. I promise you’re gonna love it” he insisted.
You had grown accustomed to him calling you love by now. No matter how much you begged him, he wouldn’t stop. And no matter how much you tried to deny it, you were starting to like it.
“B-but what if I fall?” you asked, making him smile at you adorably and grabbing your hand.
“I promise I would never let that happen” he said sincerely. “But… we don’t have to do this today if you don’t want to” he assured you.
“No, it’s okay” you said, unconvincingly. “I just… need a minute” you told him, sitting down on the grass of the Quidditch pitch.
“Look, I know you’ve told me not to ask why you didn’t learn to fly sooner so…” he said, sitting down next to you. “May I ask why you want to learn now? Why is it so important to you?”
“I don’t know” you said, quietly as you started playing with the grass next to you. “My mother has told me not to my whole life” you informed him. “She always said it wasn’t for ladies” you said, bitterly. “On my first year, she sent an owl saying that she may not be able to control which house her disappointing daughter was sorted into but I was not to ride a broom, and well… you know nobody wants to go against Walburga Black” you said with a sad chuckle. “I always wanted to learn because Siri and Reggie- um… Sirius and Regulus both know how to and they love it” you continued. “I guess I wanted to have something in common with them” you smiled sadly. “Are you… are you crying?”
“I’m sorry” he said, wiping away the few tears on his cheeks. “That was just… um, w-well, every story Padfoot tells me from your home it’s just…”
“Sad, I know” you said as James composed himself. “You can say it” you told him.
“Is it… as bad for you as it is for Sirius?” he asked, worriedly.
“A little” you admitted. “At least Sirius has you, Remus, and Peter” you smiled a little.
“You have me too” he said, placing your hand on top of yours and making you look up at him. “You know that, right?” he asked, feeling his heart beating faster when your smile got bigger.
“You’re sweet, James” you said, surprising him a little. “What?”
“I think that’s the first time you call me by my first name” he smiled.
“Oh, s-sorry, um-”
“No, no” he chuckled. “I liked it” he assured you. “I um… I like you” he said, feeling his cheeks blushing.
“Y-you do?” you asked, breaking James' heart at how genuine your question sounded. As if you were actually confused as to why someone would like you.
“Of course, I do” he said, cupping your cheek gently.
“A-are you about to kiss me?” you whispered.
“Is that okay?” he asked sweetly and you nodded smiling before James gently pressed his lips against yours.
You had no idea what you were feeling. Your entire body felt as if fireworks were exploding everywhere. Never, in a million years would you have thought that kissing James Potter would feel so perfect, but now that you knew, you never wanted to stop.
“Alright. I think I’m ready” you said once you pulled apart. James smile at you and got up, offering you his hand to help you. “Y-you promise I won’t fall, right?”
“Promise, love” he said, pulling you closer and kissing your hand.
Lies. From that moment. You never should have fallen for him. How could you have been so stupid? James may have been right, every story from your childhood was extremely unhappy, but you had never felt so empty inside. Having a best friend who then turned into something more and you were sure that you felt was something that you had never felt before, and now it was gone.
You hoped listening to sad songs would help you cry but your eyes seemed dry. You felt the pain in your heart, which was weird. You never felt that before. But you thought you might as well cry. James said it might help whenever you felt upset. But it ended up being him who cried. And not you. So, you were about to just go to bed, when you heard someone knocking loudly on your door. At 1:47 in the morning. You sighed, rolling your eyes, and quickly ran over to open the door, revealing nobody on the other side.
“James, what the bloody hell are you doing? You’re going to wake up my entire house!” you said, pulling him inside and closing the door as he removed the cloak around him.
“I’m sorry, love! I am so sorry I’m late! I swear I lost track of time!” he slurred out.
He was drunk. Really drunk. He was still in his Quidditch robes, drunk out of his mind.
“Potter, you’re-”
“No, no, no! Please don’t call me Potter” he said, walking closer to you and grabbing your hands. “You only call me that when you’re mad” he pouted. “I know I screwed up but I promise I will make it up to you, love!”
“James, you’re drunk-”
“I know! There was a party because we won and I swear I was just going to be there for a few minutes b-because I’m the captain a-and I just lost track of time and-”
“You should leave” you said, quietly, avoiding his eyes. You knew you would cave if you looked into his beautiful doe-eyed face. And you had made up your mind.
“No, no, sweetheart, please I want to make it up to you. Please give me a chance!”
“You are drunk right now-”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry” he insisted. “I can- I just need to-”
“James, please. I’m tired and you’re drunk. Just go to bed” you said, firmly. “We can talk tomorrow if you want to” you told him.
“I don’t want you to be alone” he said, his eyes tearing up. “It’s your birthday!”
“It’s no longer my birthday so… you can go” you said, getting upset.
“I don’t want to leave you” he said, getting closer to you and cupping your cheek softly, making you look at him. “Please, love. I am so sorry” he said. “Please talk to me, just tell me how I can make this right. You can yell at me! You can throw things, I deserve it-”
“James, I don’t want to yell at you” you said, sighing tiredly. “I just want to go to sleep” you told him.
“I don’t want to leave you, love” he said, with a few tears escaping his eyes and bringing you closer. He was about to kiss you and you smelled the Firewhisky in his breath so you pulled away and he kissed your forehead instead.
“Fine” you sighed. “Y-you can stay but I’m tired, I just want to go to sleep” you gave in.
“Okay” James said, feeling his eyes welling up. He couldn’t believe he had failed you. Just like everyone else in your life. He fucked up. He slowly walked over to your bed and sat down. “Is… this okay?” he asked nervously.
“Sure” you said, sounding exhausted.
You threw yourself on your bed, turning your back to him and James quickly climbed next to you. You instantly felt his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you to him. You sighed deeply, preparing yourself for what was to come. You were going to miss him. You knew that much. You hated how used you had become to him. How regular it just seemed for him to show up and spend the night with you. So, you took it in. His scent, his touch, everything about him because you knew it would be gone by tomorrow.
“I’m really sorry, love” you heard him say before he kissed the back of your head.
“Just… go to sleep, James” you whispered back and it wasn’t long before you heard his snores.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The next morning, James woke up to an empty bed, and the realization of the night before quickly came flooding back into his mind. He quickly sat up and saw you on your desk, writing on some parchment.
“Um- w-what time is it?” were the first words that came out of his mouth and he cursed himself. He was beyond stupid.
“It’s still early” you replied as you continued doing whatever it was you were doing. “If you hurry, you can still go to breakfast before your friends wonder where you are” you said, quietly.
“N-no. I don’t want to go to breakfast” he said, walking over to you. “I want to apologize and talk to you” he said, looking down at the parchment you were working on. “W-what’s that?”
You finished writing and stood up, handing the piece of parchment to him with a serious expression on your face.
“A list of people who are not Severus Snape that can tutor you in potions” you simply said, trying to make your way to your window seat.
“W-what?” he panicked.
“I have your things here” you said, handing him a box with his things. “Oh” you said, realizing you were wearing his sweater so you quickly took it off and placed it on top of his things. “Sorry” you said, and you felt like you were freezing.
“Wait, you’re- you’re breaking up with me?” James asked, placing everything aside and walking closer to you. “Please, just… hold on a second. I promise I can explain-”
“James” you said, taking a step back. It unnerved James how calmly you were talking to him. Like you did in the beginning. Like your walls were up again and he meant nothing more than a stranger to you. “I just don’t think that this is working” you said, silently.
“Please, don’t do this, love! I swear I want to make it up to you” he said as a few tears started falling down his cheeks.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because I love you!” he shouted a bit louder than he intended to. “I know I fucked up and I am so sorry! But please, love, just give me another chance, I swear I didn’t mean to miss it-”
“That doesn’t matter, James-”
“Yes, it does! I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be, I understand that! But this is a fight, I- I can make it up to you and w-we can go back to the way it was-”
“Why would we do that?” you asked, confused.
“Because that’s what couples do!” he insisted.
“We’re not a couple, James” you said, sounding broken.
“Yes, we are!”
“No, we’re not. You never asked me to be your girlfriend. We’ve never gone out on a date. You barely talk to me outside these walls-”
“You said you didn’t want Sirius to know about us! I told you I didn’t care!”
“That doesn’t make a difference, James!”
“Yes, it does! Because I love you!”
“No, you don't!”
“Yes, I do! I love you so much and I know you love me too!”
“Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous, Potter” you said, with a sarcastic chuckle as you tried to walk into your bathroom but James blocked your way.
“No, I’m not!” he said, softly as you tried to look away. He gently cupped your cheek with his big, strong hand and slowly lifted your face so you could see him. Not even a sign of tears while his eyes were flooded. “Tell me you don’t” he said, quietly.
“E-excuse me?” you asked, confused.
“Tell me you don’t love me” he said. “I know you’ve never said that you love me but whenever I tell you that I do, you smile and you kiss me! You’ve never said that you don’t! So, tell me you don’t love me” he insisted.
“James!”
“No! If you want to break up with me, at least talk to me first! You at least have to tell me how you feel about me!” he argued.
“You wanna know how I feel about you?” you snapped pushing yourself away from him.
“Yes!”
“You really want to know how you make me feel?” you said, getting upset.
“Yes!”
“I have no idea how you make me feel, James!” you snapped, breaking James’ heart. “Y-you make me feel happy and angry, and scared, and sad, and crazy, and warm, and vulnerable, and like I can break at any moment, but I somehow know that I won’t because you won’t let that happen but then I feel so lost if you’re not there! And I feel weak and confused, and-” enchanted. “And, alive and like I can float, and sure but unsure at the same time, and like I can be myself and I want to try to be a better person but it wouldn’t matter because you still look at me with that stupid grin! And- and-” you said, trying to take deep breaths. “I don’t know! It’s just a lot all at once and I don’t know how to handle it and I don’t like it!” you said, trying to catch your breath. “I don’t like it, James!”
“Okay, okay!” James said, quickly walking over to you and placing his hands on each side of your face. “Breathe, love, please” he said quietly, as you slowly tried to catch your breath and stop shaking. James was now fully weeping but a small smile formed on his face. “Sweetheart” he said, quietly. “That’s love” he told you.
“W-what?”
“What you’re feeling” he explained. “That’s love” he insisted.
“How do you know that?” you asked, confused.
“Because that’s exactly how I feel about you” he said as you managed to even your breathing again.
“I don’t like feeling scared” you whispered.
“I know, love” he smiled. “I know, and I’m scared too-”
“Then why would you still want to be with me?”
“Because I love you” he repeated. “And… you’ve made me the happiest I’ve been and I know that I fucked up yesterday, I do, but I promise I will make it up to you and, if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me, love” he said in a serious tone.
You took a deep breath. You wanted to. You really did. You wanted to know what was on the other side and if you could live a ‘happily ever after’ that you read in so many stories when you were a kid. But this was real life. And you couldn’t break James Potter like you broke everything else you touched.
“No, James” you said, pushing away from him.
“B-but-” he tried but you walked away, going to your bathroom.
“Please, James. Just… forget it. Like you forget everything else" you said sadly before you walked inside, locking the door and your heart broke when you still heard him cry.
James turned to look at the box you left with all of his things. He couldn’t bring himself to take it. He needed to make things right. He walked out of your dorm and your house and made his way over to the Gryffindor Tower, not even caring about breakfast. He plopped himself on the furthest sofa, and after a while, he heard giggling and a group of girls walking over to him.
“Hey, Potter” Marlene asked. It wasn’t usual to see him without his three friends and his energy was entirely different today. “You okay?”
“Um… can I ask you, girls, something?” he said as Marlene, Dorcas, Lily, and Alice sat around him. “I would ask my friends but… in this particular subject they all are just… useless” he chuckled sadly.
“Is it about a girl?” Alice asked.
“Well… yeah” he admitted.
“Oh, Merlin it is! Who is it?” Dorcas asked, excitedly.
“I can’t… say it out loud, Sirius can’t know!”
“He’s your best friend, why can’t he know?”
“Because it’s his sister” Lily smirked.
“What?” the other three reacted shocked.
“How did you know?” James asked, confused.
“I’ve seen you in Potions” she shrugged. “You two are cute together” she smiled. “So, what happened?”
“Well, we had been seeing each other for a while now and yesterday was her birthday and I promised her that we would do something and I had this whole picnic planned in the Astronomy tower but… I lost track of time and-”
“No!” Alice said, her smile dropping.
“You didn’t!” Dorcas frowned.
“You forgot?” Marlene asked, slapping his arm.
“I didn’t mean to! We were playing with our secondary team because we had so many hurt players, I didn’t think we would win! And then we did and I started drinking and I just lost track of time!”
“You are unbelievable potter!” Marlene glared at him.
“I want to make things right! I love her and I’m pretty sure she loves me to-”
“Pretty sure?” Alice asked with an arched eyebrow.
“W-well, she hasn’t said it, exactly, but I know she feels it” he insisted. “Look, this is the first time I’ve felt like this in my life and I know that I fucked up but… I also know she’s scared and it just… I want to make things right” he insisted.
The four girls shared looks amongst themselves before they went back to James and Lily nodded.
“Alright, we’ll help you” she agreed.
“Really?”
“Yes, but only because she has looked happier lately, and you seem to actually be sorry. But if you fuck this up again, Potter-” Dorcas threatened.
“I know, I swear, I won’t!” he told them.
“Alright, then” Alice smirked.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
“What are you doing here?”
“For fuck’s sake!” you jumped, falling down the stairs you were on and landing on the floor. “Sirius!” you said, getting up. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” you glared at your older brother.
“I asked first” he shrugged.
“None of your business” you said, rolling your eyes. “You?”
“Same” he said.
“Fine. This has been lovely, then” you said, trying to walk out of the class but Sirius stopped you.
“Okay, no! Wait!” he said, grabbing your arm and turning you around. “I was… looking for you” he admitted.
“If you’re planning on stealing my Potions essay, I haven’t finished it yet-”
“No, that’s not it” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I… wanted to… um… talk to you” he said, awkwardly.
“Why?” you asked, genuinely confused.
“Well, there are… a few things I wanted to tell you” he admitted. “If um… you’d like to come with me to the… Lake or something” he said.
“Well, since you asked so normally” you said, still confused. But this was the first time that Sirius talked to you in so long, you really didn’t want to take it for granted, so you followed him. Once you reached to the Great Lake he sat down near a tree and pointed his side so you would join him. “So… did you bring me here to kill me or-”
“Shut up” he said with a faint chuckle. He then looked inside his bag and got out a small present. “Here” he said, handing it to you. “Um… happy birthday” he said quietly. You raised your eyebrow at him before grabbing the gift.
“Is this thing going to catch fire or something?”
“No!” he argued. But he couldn’t really blame you for thinking that. “No, I promise, I just… I know I’m a day late-”
“You’re about six years late but, alright” you said a bit harshly.
“I guess I deserve that” he muttered as you opened your present and you saw all of your favorite candy from Honeydukes. “I… wanted to say that… I’m sorry” he said.
“Um… why?”
“What do you mean why? For shutting you and Regulus out when I got sorted into Gryffindor and then… still not reaching out to you when you were sorted in Hufflepuff-”
“No, I know but… I mean… why now? Do you need something? Are you dying? Am I dying?”
“Stop it, bug!” he said, rolling his eyes and then looking at you when he realized what he had just called you. You felt your heart stopping for a moment.
“You… you haven’t called me that in a very long time” you said, feeling warmth in your heart. Once you thought was absolutely gone.
“I know… I’m sorry, if you’re not okay with it-”
“It’s okay” you quickly said. “I… kind of missed it” you admitted, looking away.
“You used to hate it” he chuckled.
“Yeah, I know but… once it was gone…” you sighed.
“We’re both really bad at this, aren’t we?” he laughed a little and, to his surprise, you did too.
“We definitely are the worst at feelings” you admitted. “Why are you apologizing to me now?” you asked curiously.
“A couple of reasons” he said. “I miss you” he admitted and you glared at him a little. “I really do!” he insisted. “Look, I get that we are awful at feelings and all that but… I’ve kind of been working on it and… I just… I want a relationship with my little sister” he said genuinely.
“Those are big words, Sirius” you chuckled. “What do you even know about relationships?”
“Well… I’m… currently in one” he said, looking away.
“You are?” you asked, a bit shocked and he nodded. “Wow, who’s the unlucky girl?”
Sirius let out a scoff, glaring at you. “Actually… it’s not a girl” he corrected.
“Is it Lupin?” you asked as Sirius widened his eyes in surprise.
“How did you know?”
“Well, it’s pretty obvious, you sink a deeper level of idiot whenever you’re around him” you informed him.
“That’s not true!”
“Yes, it is. Last week you knocked down your cauldron and three others when he laughed” you pointed out.
“That was… an accident” he tried to defend himself.
“Sure, it was” you said sarcastically.
“So… what do you think?” he asked, nervously.
“Why would you care what I think?”
“Well, you’re my sister, and… you’re also… the first person I’ve told” he admitted.
“Really?”
“Y-yeah” he said with a nervous smile.
“Well, if I’m being completely honest… I think Remus can do a lot better than you” you said with a smirk, making Sirius push you a little and glare at you.
“That’s not funny” he argued.
“I wasn’t joking” you said. “Is he… the one that’s making you get in touch with your feelings?”
“Kinda” he admitted. “You know, he and James grew up in a functional home, and… they know how to feel like a normal person” he informed you. “So… a few months ago, I was where you are right now” he added.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, nervously.
“I’m talking about you and Prongs and how you are afraid of being in a relationship with him” he said, casually.
“W-what? D-did James say-?”
“He didn’t say anything, but he’s a terrible liar” he shrugged. “I’ve known for a while and… to be honest, I have never seen him as happy as he is with you” he told you. “And… I have never seen him as miserable as today” he added. “So, I knew you were probably feeling worse, but… had no idea how to express it” he told you.
“How would you even know that?”
“Because you’re just like me” he told you. “A few months ago, Remus and I had our first fight. He told me that he loved me and… I kind of ran away” he said. “We didn’t speak for about three days. I was in such a bad mood, even I didn’t want to deal with myself” he explained. “Look, I know that we are wired differently than everyone else because mum and dad didn’t exactly teach us how to… feel or… love” he continued. “So, when someone does, it feels-”
“Fucking weird” you added.
“Yeah” he agreed. “But… that doesn’t mean that we can’t, you know that, right? And it doesn’t mean we don’t deserve it, bug” he told you. “I know I screwed up on my part and I am really sorry for pushing you away-”
“Why did you do it?” you asked all of the sudden. “I get that you were angry when you came back home from your first year but… Regulus and I never thought any different from you and you… shut us down” you said, sadly. “And then… the next year, when I was sorted into Hufflepuff, I thought maybe-”
“I know! I should have talked to you, I know, I was an idiot!” he said, genuinely. “Remus has made me talk about it a lot lately and… I want to make things right” he sighed. “You don’t have to forgive me if you don’t want to and I don’t expect you to do it right away if you do, I just… had to start somewhere” he smiled, hopeful.
“By giving me candy and saying happy birthday a day later?” you smirked a little. “It’s a good start, I guess” you nodded, grabbing a Sugar Quill and giving him one.
“Well, I also… wanted to help you fix things with Prongs” he suggested.
“Because you love James so much now that you are an expert on feelings and don’t want to see him sad?”
“Well… sort of, but… I love you too, bug” he said, making you almost choke on your sweet. You were pretty sure he had never said that before. “I know, we don’t really say that to each other or anyone else. Remus was the first person I ever said it to. It feels good, you should try it” he continued. “I know you love James-”
“How could you possibly know that? Even I don’t know that!”
“I think that you do and that’s why you’re so scared” he told you. “And I know I’m probably the last person that should be telling you this but… there’s nothing wrong with that” he assured you.
“It’s just…” you sighed. “W-what if he realizes how broken I am and he doesn’t want to be anymore?” you asked, sadly, breaking Sirius’ heart a little. “Or if I end up breaking him?”
“Bug, you’re not that broken-”
“Really? Do you want to know what I was doing in Potions class? I was looking for something that would make me cry” you explained.
“Really?”
“Yes, James cries all the time, did you know that?”
“Yeah, he cried when Moony and I told him we were dating” Sirius laughed.
“I feel empty without him, Sirius, and yet… not a single tear!”
“Well, that doesn’t mean you’re broken” Sirius insisted. “We never cry” he continued. “Blacks don’t cry” you both said at the same time, letting out a small laugh. “We’ll get there, bug” he said, pulling you to him and kissing the side of your head.
“We?” you asked, a little confused.
“Oh yeah, now that you have accepted me back into your life I’m not leaving-”
“Can I reconsider this-?”
“Nope, it’s too late! We’re going to be best friends, bug!”
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
You had surprisingly spent the rest of the day with Sirius, and Remus had joined at some point. They took you to Hogsmeade as Remus insisted on at least taking you out for your birthday. You liked Remus, and you could see that he definitely brought out the best in your brother. They seemed very in love. And at some point, it dawned on you. You were in love with James. He had been right. What you felt for him, was love. You were still terrified but you had made up your mind to talk to him the next day. Remus and Sirius even said the four of you could go to Hogsmeade together. This was definitely the craziest thing you had ever gone through in your life. But you were done feeling sorry for your self and you were done being afraid. You definitely did not want to spend the rest of your life like your parents. Feeling nothing and being unhappy. So, you would talk to James and try to be happy for once. However, when you opened your dorm’s door, you saw that he had already gone ahead of you.
Your mouth dropped when you saw the scene in front of you. Your dorm was decorated with beautiful fairy lights above, like floating stars, and candles and flowers everywhere. James was in the corner, finishing putting some flowers next to your bed.
“James?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, love- I uh-” he stuttered, walking closer to you. “Um, I know you told me to f-forget about it but…” he sighed, offering you the last flower in his hand. “I don’t want to” he chuckled. “I don’t want to forget about it and… I don’t want to forget about you” he explained. “Love, I know that I majorly fucked up” he continued. “And you have every right to hate me and never forgive me if you want to but… I wanted to give you the birthday that I had planned for you first. The birthday that you deserved before I royally fucked it up” he said, grabbing the picnic basket on your window seat.
“Did you ask the elves to do the whole meal again?”
“N-no” he assured you. “Um… I did it myself” he said, making your heart flutter a little. “Granted, I… uh, I don’t think it’s going to be as good” he chuckled. “So, we don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to” he assured you before he placed the basket back down. “I um… I also didn’t get to give you your present” he said, grabbing a bag on your nightstand.
“You-” you felt something weird happening. “You got me a present?”
“Of course, I got you a present, love” James smiled sweetly. “Would you like to open it? Or we can eat first if you’d like. Or you can eat. And I can leave if you prefer-”
Before he could go on, you quickly grabbed the bag from him. James smiled to himself at how excited you looked, opening your gift. And then, you pulled it out. A book. And a stuffed rabbit. An exact rabbit like the one in the book. Wearing a small knitted cardigan with Gryffindor colors. Just like the one James had given you.
“What-?” you tried to catch your breath. “H-how did you-?”
“The sweater comes off” he smiled. “I asked my mum to make it, I thought it would look cute because you like mine so much” he explained.
“N-no, how um- how did you know-?”
“You told me, remember?” he frowned, confused. “How when you were a kid, and your mum took you and your brothers to Diagon Alley and you ran off and got lost and ended up in a muggle library” he continued. “And you read that book and you always wanted a rabbit like that one-”
“Y-you remember that?” you asked, in complete disbelief.
You told him that story so long ago. You remember it perfectly. It was the first night he stayed in your dorm and you ended up talking all night. You had no idea he would remember it. It felt like forever ago.
“Of course, love” he said as if it was obvious.
Before either one of you could say anything else, you threw your arms around James’ shoulders and you planted a big kiss on his lips. James widened his eyes in surprise a little before he closed them and wrapped one of his arms around your waist and he placed his other hand on your cheek.
“This is…” you sighed when you pulled apart and you looked down at your rabbit. “This is the nicest thing anybody’s ever done for me” you chuckled.
"Um... I also wanted to ask if... you would like to be my girlfriend?" he said, nervously.
"I would really like that" you nodded.
“Wait, are you… are you crying?” James asked, brushing a few tears with his thumb.
“A-am I?” you asked as a smile appeared on your face. You brought your hand up to your face and you saw that it was, in fact, covered in tears. “I’m crying!” you chuckled as you noticed James’ eyes welling up as they usually did. “James, I’m crying!”
“I can see that, love” he smiled brightly at you. “I’m really sorry I forgot your birthday” he said, pulling you closer.
“It’s okay” you assured him. “You cooked for me” you said with a small laugh.
“I also apologize for that. I have no idea what I was doing” he warned you.
“It can’t be that bad” you assured him. “Would you like to join me?”
“R-really?”
You nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards your window. You sat down as James pulled out the food, smiling when he saw you playing with your rabbit’s ear and going through the pages of your book. He had never seen you smile like this. And he promised to himself that he would do anything he can to keep that smile placed there.
“James?”
“Yes, love?”
“Um… please don’t cry when I say this but… uh, you were right… earlier today” you said, nervously before you cleared your throat and you looked at him. “I love you” you admitted, feeling an enormous weight off your shoulders. And of course, James’ tears quickly ran down his cheeks.
“Y-you do?” he asked with a sweet smile and you nodded.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it” you said, nervously. “I just… well, y-you know Sirius and I don’t really- um… I was just… scared because we were sort of instructed to… not really feel anything and I just… didn’t want to screw things up with you because you are very in touch with your emotions and I’m a bit broken that way-”
“You’re not broken, love” he insisted, holding your hand in his. “I wish you could see yourself as I see you. Because you’re perfect” he said, making you smile a little. “And I love you so much” he said, pulling you for another kiss and he felt your smile against his lips. “Say it again” he asked when you pulled away.
“James-”
“Please” he pouted, making you laugh and roll your eyes a little.
“I love you” you said, making him throw his arms around you and pulled you to him, peppering your face with kisses as he heard you laugh, which was his favorite music.
“I love you too!”
The End
[Bonus Scene The Next Day at The Three Broomsticks...]
"Sirius... are you crying?" Remus asked his boyfriend.
"It's just so beautiful" he said, wiping his tears as you rested your head against James' shoulder. "How Prongs set everything up for her birthday after he forgot and he got her that cute rabbit" he said, while Remus chuckled and hugged him and he looked at James.
"You kind of opened the gate for Blacks to cry, you know that right?"
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
A/N: I really love how this turned out so I hope you liked it too! xD let me know what you think! Remus is coming next and then Sirius!
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mxauthor · 9 months
Text
Not Of The Imagination
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Summary: Spencer claims he has a girlfriend. Derek does not believe him at all.
Word Count: 1,614
Warnings: fluff, a bit OOC Derek
Derek Morgan is a ladies man. He knows how to talk to women, charm them into a flustered mess and get a number from them with ease. His charm is a weapon, something he knows how to use better than his gun. 
Spencer Reid is not a ladies man. He rambles people away and becomes flustered so easily that people think his skin tone is red. 
Derek Morgan is a charmer. Spencer Reid is the charmed. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Friday afternoon. Everyone was ready to go home and spend the weekend doing whatever they wanted. Weekend plans were the topic of conversation at the moment with the bullpen attendees.
“So pretty boy, where are you doing this weekend?” Morgan asked. A teasing smile playing on his lips. Derek Morgan wasn’t a bully. He was anything but a bully, however, he was a brother. And brothers are known to tease their little siblings to no end. And Spencer was lucky enough to become Derek’s little brother. 
 “There’s this Korean Film festival happening throughout the next week. All foods, music and movies will be played in korean. Which is exciting since my girlfriend had wanted to brush up on her language skills and I thought this would be a great surprise for her.” Spencer missed the look of surprise on his friends faces when the word ‘girlfriend’ had left his mouth. Especially Morgan’s face. 
“Girlfriend?” Emily questioned softly. She was still a bit new to the team, but this was the first time a girlfriend was mentioned, especially attached to Spencer’s name.
“Wait what! Spencer, you have a girlfriend?” Derek questioned in disbelief. It’s not like he didn’t think that Spencer couldn’t get a girlfriend, but it’s still a complete shock that the shy, can’t talk to college kids his age, stuttering mess actually has a girlfriend. 
“Yeah, Her name’s Y/n. We’ve actually been dating for about 3 years now.” The goofy grin that broke out onto Spencer’s face was convincing enough for the women. But apparently not enough for Derek. 
“Really?” Spencer could hear the disbelief in Derek’s voice. He knew that the proclaimed ladies man, didn’t believe that he ‘scored’. But Spencer really didn’t care if he believed him or not. 
He still had you at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered to him. 
“Okay, what’s her last name?” Morgan asked.
“L/n.” Spencer answered without hesitation. He had a feeling that some of the asked questions are going to be the same that his mother asked him when he confessed that he was seeing someone. 
Derek nodded, trying to look convinced. “What’s her-” 
Before he even had the chance to finish his next question Spencer beat him to it. “She’s working as a barista at the moment because she’s going back to school to be a teacher. We met when we were 20 and started dating at 22. She’s kind and patient. She also really loves me and we are talking about moving in together after she graduates with her masters.” 
The small group was stunned at the flood of information. Emily, JJ and Penelope all began gushing about his girlfriend, happy that their resident genius had found someone that is making him happy. 
Derek, happy for his brother, still didn’t believe him. The girl sounded perfect for him, too perfect. Almost like he had conjured her up. 
“Do you have a picture of her?” Penelope was the first to ask. 
“No, sadly. All the pictures we have together are taken on her phone and they don’t transfer well when she sends them to me.” Spencer explained. The women deflated a bit hearing his explanation. 
“How convenient.” Morgan muttered. Penelope was the one who heard him. She snapped her head in his direction, fixing him with a glare. Derek only held his hands up in mock surrender. 
The group slowly began to disperse when paperwork began to pile up on each of their respective desks. The new shift of conversation began to fizzle out. Everyone now began to focus on the important work ahead of them before they could go home at 6. 
Except for Derek Morgan. The new revelation, still fresh in his brain. The Spencer Reid, the boy genius that stutters when given a simple compliment, has a girlfriend.
He has to see it to believe it at that point.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Derek didn’t get his confirmation until 3 months later. When he had almost forgotten that Spencer had claimed he had a girlfriend. 
A beautiful h/c had walked into the bullpen with a visitor badge clipped to her turtleneck sweater. She had a drink carrier in on hand and a plastic bag in the other. 
She stood near the glass doors, clearly looking for someone. A small frown appeared on her lips as the object of her delivery seemed to not be in the room. 
Morgan saw the contemplation on her face whether she was on the right floor or not. She took a step back towards the double glass doors, before Derek got up to give a helping hand. 
He calmly approached the pretty woman before calling out to her, “Excuse me miss, is there something you need help with.” 
The h/c turned at his voice, Derek could see slight recognition within her eyes. A small smile graced her lips before she spoke, “You must be Derek Morgan.” 
The named man furrowed his eyebrows. He had never met this woman before in his life, even if he had Derek would’ve remembered her face. 
The woman saw the confusion on his face as well as the slight guard he put up after she said his name. The h/c’s realization kicked in and her panic set in. “Oh no, I’m not dangerous. My boyfriend had told me a lot about you. Even showed me a photo of you. Well not of you but a group picture and pointed you out. And I’ve always been good at remembering faces. So when I saw you I just knew that you were Derek Morgan. Again I’m not dangerous.” 
Her lengthy explanation reminded him of the resident genius that was approaching the two of them. 
Spencer was very confused when he saw Derek Morgan speaking with his girlfriend of 3 years. He was even more confused when he saw her panicked expression and the slight wave of her hands as she tried to explain something. 
Spencer pulled open the glass doors to the bullpen and turned towards the interesting conversation that was happening. He didn’t get much of it, just the last bit where Y/n said ‘I’m not dangerous’. 
“What’s going on here?” The brunette male asked. He looked between his favorite people waiting for one of them to answer. 
“Oh, hello love. I was just coming over to see if you wanted to have lunch with me. I had a half day at work for class but then my professor canceled class last minute because he wasn’t feeling well.” Y/n had gestured to the food in her arms at the mention of lunch. 
She had swung by their favorite Thai place. Having not been there for a few weeks because of Spencer’s busy schedule and Y/n’s guilt for eating it without him. Spencer smiled widely at the offer of food and his lover for his break. 
“I’d love to honey. We can eat at my desk if you’d like.” Spencer offered. Grabbing the drinks from her to make the load easier to carry. 
Derek watched the exchange between them. Only putting everything together when you call Spencer ‘love’. 
“Holy shit she’s real.” He had meant to say it in his head. But the statement slipped out, causing the two of you to look at him with confusion. 
“You didn’t think she was real?” Spencer asked.
“Well, no. Just that she sounded really perfect for you so I had a hard time believing it at first. But then I met her and she literally reminded me of you.” Derek tried to explain but it didn’t sound all too convincing. 
Spencer and Y/n looked at each other before laughing. Y/n had just met Derek and he thought she was someone that Spencer made up. Their giggles made Derek feel stupid.
And that’s something he doesn’t feel often (not counting the times Spencer made him feel stupid). 
Y/n had calmed down first before holding out her free hand for Derek to shake, “Hi, my name is Y/n L/n. I’m going back to school to be a teacher but currently I’m working as a barista. I’ve been told I’m patient and kind. Spencer and I have been dating since we were 22 but we met when we were 20.” 
Y/n then spared a glance at Spencer before asking, “Same intro you gave him right?” 
Spencer nodded with a smile before kissing the crown of her head, “Yep same one you gave to my mom.” 
Derek looked between the young couple content on the evidence presented to him. Derek took Y/n’s hand and shook it giving a greeting of his own, “It’s nice to meet you Y/n. I’m Derek Morgan and I’ve become Spencer’s big brother. So don’t you go breaking his heart.” 
The toothy smile was answer enough, but Y/n couldn’t resist her response, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
Spencer had excused the two of them to go eat lunch at his desk. Spencer was happy that his lives were starting to blend together.
He’s especially glad that his favorite people were able to meet each other once and for all. Even though one of them thought the other was a figment of his imagination.
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angelsfat3 · 2 months
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ꮩ, 性玩具。 ⸻[midnight practices...]
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Genre: smut, teacher's pet, coach!Sunghoon x iceskater!Malereader.
C/w: Sunghoon being possessively perverted, feminization, bottom reader, fingering, oral (sunghoon giving). - Tw: Curses, manipulation, victimization, crying.
A/N: I don't consider myself the best at writing smut, so that's why this is so simple.
╰╾ I still haven't finished writing the stories that I have planned to upload in a few days.
______________________
The sound of skates scraping the ice echoed across the empty rink as you completed the last lap, your cheeks and nose completely red from the cold. Your breathing was heavy and your muscles burned from the effort, but there was something else weighing on his mind.
Sunghoon, your coach, was watching you from the edge, ogling you from the warm-up, his gaze seeming to pierce the ice and get right to you.
As you headed to the locker room, you felt the chill of the air on his hot skin. As you took off your jacket and gloves, you heard the door open and close behind you.
Sunghoon had entered, his presence always imposing, his figure casting a shadow that covered everything.
"You did a good job today," Sunghoon said, his voice soft, almost like a whisper. There was a certain intensity in his gaze, a hunger that you had learned to recognize and fear.
“Thank you, hyung,” you responded with a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. But your hands were shaking slightly as you removed the protections and slowly sat down on the wood bench.
Sunghoon approached slowly, his expression changing to a warm smile, but his eyes were those of a wolf stalking its prey. "[...], there is something I have wanted to tell you." His hand reached out, caressing one of your cheeks, before sliding up to your neck.
"What is it?" you asked, looking up to meet his eyes, you searched for a way to ignore the electric shock that Sunghoon's touch sent through your body.
You knew you should pull away, that you should say no, but something in you craved that forbidden touch, his lips kissing every part of your body would always be your favorite sin.
Sunghoon tilted his head, intensifying his gaze, fixated on you. "I've noticed you're distracted lately," he commented, his tone deceptively gentle."Your performance on the court has gone down. And I know it's because of that little friend of yours who's done using you."
You gulped, your defenses slowly crumbling, while he sounded worried, his words weren't the best. Sunghoon always knew how to get inside your head, how to find your weak points, in every sense of the word. "Yeah, it's been kind of hard..." you admitted, looking down.
Sunghoon smiled, a gesture that felt more predatory than sympathetic. "I know what you need, [...]. You need to forget all that. You need to stop worrying about things that don't matter." He said passing his knee between your legs, making you open them easily.
“But hyung, I'm not sure this is right,” you said as you noticed his growing erection, your voice shaky as you fought the desire to surrender to Sunghoon's touch. "Maybe I should leave before... before something else happens."
You didn't want to admit it, but you felt like with every encounter, something was pushing you closer to falling in love with him, something you knew shouldn't happen.
"Do you want to leave?" Sunghoon interrupted you, his tone more like a challenge than a question. "Fine, but then you won't be coming back again and I doubt you want that, [...]"
The words hit you like a slap. The possibility of losing everything you had built terrified you more than anything, and Sunghoon knew it. "No, I don't want that," you finally muttered, your resistance breaking.
Sunghoon leaned in, bringing his face closer to yours to the point where your lips were constantly brushing, pressing a soft but insistent kiss against your lips.
His skillful hands began to work, slipping under your shirt and slowly lifting it up, setting it to your side, enjoying every centimeter of skin that he was revealing with his fingertips.
"I'm not just doing this because I want to help you, [...]," he said between kisses, his lips moving with calculated precision, biting your lower lip between moments. "I do it because I love you and because you're mine."
You closed your eyes, trying to block out the words as you lightly rested your hands on his shoulders, Sunghoon's touch stronger than your will. "But...what about your wife? s-she's pregnant" you tried to protest, though your voice sounded weak even to your own ears.
Sunghoon let out a soft laugh, a sound that was not entirely pleasant. "She has nothing to do with us. This moment is ours alone," he stated, his voice confident as his hands moved to your pants, decisively tearing them and your underwear apart, getting rid of them in one swift motion.
Sunghoon began to mark his way up your neck, then down to your bare chest, marking his territory with hot kisses and small bites on your nipples. A couple of gasps took over your mouth, your body responding to every touch, every whispered word Sunghoon said in your ear.
His fingers focused on caressing and squeezing your nipples, while he was in charge of kissing and noticeably marking your neck, the most sensitive areas of you. You could only moan unconsciously near his ear as you looked for a way to push him, with your eyes closed.
As soon as you regained your senses and sight, you saw your teacher on his knees, running his hands over your waist briefly.
Sunghoon was lowering his lips past your belly, his hands were firm, separating your legs in the best way, leaving your semi-erect cock in view, With the skill of a master who knows his apprentice well, he let out a soft laugh. "Do you realize how perfect you are because of me?" Sunghoon whispered as his lips grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, planting searing kisses that left a trail of heat in their wake. "Let me enjoy what I've harvested, okay?
You couldn't help but let out a moan when Sunghoon continued his exploration, lowering his head slightly just to lick your balls, his mouth moving towards your member quickly, almost instantly enveloping your glans with his lips.
The feeling of his tongue moving in circles against your tip sent waves of pleasure through your body, causing your little flesh to finish erecting, releasing a bit of precum.
Sunghoon used his tongue skillfully, the way he put your member inside his mouth was making you go blank, Your hands were squeezing the wood of the bench and your stomach only knew how to contract from the sensation.
Every movement was calculated, every touch measured to elicit maximum pleasure, like an artist who knows exactly how to pluck each string to pluck the perfect note.
Unexpectedly, Sunghoon laid you down on the bench, giving him greater access to your body. Without wasting any time, he inserted two of his fingers inside you without warning, pretending it was his big meat by the way he started pounding into you.
Tears began to flood your eyes and begin to overflow down your cheeks, the way he moved his head up and down and his tongue moved in a circular motion at the same time, one of his hands gently massaging your balls and the other sinking to the depths of you, managing to caress your sweet spot with his middle finger, it was what had you writhing on the bench.
Your back was arched and your moans were muffled, you were nowhere near reaching your first orgasm, you were so close that it had you rolling your eyes.
In a matter of seconds Sunghoon stopped, retreating slightly with an enigmatic smile. You gasped in discontent, your body shaking from a mix of frustration and unfulfilled desire. “Hyung, please…” you begged, your voice so broken with longing and crying.
"First you tell me you don't want this, and now you're begging me like a fucking cock whore. Who understands you?" Sunghoon asked, his eyes shining with a mixture of superiority and cruel delight. "No matter how much you try to hide it, [...], you will always like to have me around. You ask for it just with the way you look at me."
While you were struggling to breathe, you were searching for the words necessary to excuse the reason for your prayers towards him, but you only remained speechless when you felt his fingers enter suddenly, again pretending that these were his fat member, which you never missed after each practice.
Your body lay caught in a storm of sensations as Sunghoon teased your hole and cock, giving you pleasure but denying you the relief you so desperately needed.
The torture continued when, as he moved his tongue over your tip, he made thrusts with his fingers, moving them like scissors near your innocent spot. Time seemed to stop as your teacher kept you on edge, his words full of manipulation, love and hate echoing in your head.
Finally, when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, Sunghoon intensified his attention. His tongue moved with lethal precision, his lips wrapping around your glans and slowly sinking his head, pressing your tip against the roof of his mouth.
You felt on cloud nine every time you heard his fingers grind hard against your skin and the way he made a kind of hook with his fingers every time he caressed your sweet prostate, Your legs trembled with poverty and your tears constantly slid down your face.
The heat of Sunghoon's mouth and the expert movement of his tongue combined wave after wave of pleasure that spread through every cell of your body, causing you to arch your back and let out a gasp, cumming steadily into his mouth.
Each spasm was a mix of sharp pleasure and painful sweetness, with Sunghoon enjoying the absolute control he had over you, causing spasms that seemed to have no end.
Even after the wave of orgasms had passed, Sunghoon continued to suck, his tongue moving like a wave over every corner of your member, prolonging your hypersensitivity, until your tearful sobs, completely overwhelmed, begged him to stop.
A sly smile formed on the taller man's face, stopping the movement of his fingers and tongue, slowly removing your small dick from his cavity.
When he finally pulled out, Sunghoon wiped the corners of his mouth with a satisfied gesture, wearing the shirt he had taken off you at the beginning, his gaze fixed on you, who lay exhausted and vulnerable on the bench. "I hope that can help you focus tomorrow," Sunghoon said, his voice a mix of authority and disdain. "Don't disappoint me, or I'll have to get another apprentice, and believe me, I really like having this internship with just you, [...]."
You could barely respond with a moan, your mind was completely clouded by the experience, your body continued to shake with post-orgasm.
You stared at nothing, running your hands all over your body, especially over your stomach, watching as Sunghoon stood up and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the empty locker room.
Just before the door closed, you heard a clicking sound, as if Sunghoon had finished recording something.
The idea came to you strongly, filling you with a mixture of fear and vulnerability.
When you were left alone in the silence of the locker room, you finally felt the weight of the situation fall on you. Each encounter with Sunghoon plunged you deeper into an abyss you didn't know how to escape, trapped between desire and guilt.
You had uncertainty digging into your mind, thinking quietly, "What if he's been recording this whole time? What am I going to do if he decides to use it against me?"
______________________
메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ I was having a mental battle, deciding whether to upload it or not. I promise to update more often.
아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠ ̄⁠︶⁠ ̄⁠)⁠>
All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara.
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waldau-archived · 3 months
Text
pipe dream — chwe hansol | 1,730 words | fluff
friends to lovers with vernon (again)!!! here's the writing exercise i did because my hands were freezing.
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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“do you have your keys?”
you peel your eyes away from the movie you’re not really watching and look up at vernon. you couldn’t even tell the title if vernon asked.
vernon, who’s dressed in the most casual attire possible and still manages to look incredibly handsome as he stands in front of you, hands in the pockets of his jeans jacket.
“my…keys,” you repeat, focusing on not looking at his lips. you look at his eyes instead. maybe a second too late, because he raises his eyebrows.
“yeah,” he says, slowly. “keys. to our apartment. your set.”
our apartment. you ignore the tingle that runs through you at the possessive word. “i do, but…why?”
he sighs. “i left mine at seungkwan’s. he’s back in jeju right now and i don’t know when i’ll be back, so i don’t want to disturb you.”
“you mean you forgot yours. for the second time in the past few months.”
he raises his hands in surrender, a smile on his face. “not denying that.”
“what would you do without me?”
he pretends to think. “die, maybe. but can i have your keys? i promise i’m not going to lose them anywhere.”
you scrutinize him for a few moments. he probably thinks it’s under the pretense of wondering if you really want to give them to him, but you know you’d give them to him in a heartbeat. your hesitation is more about why he’s heading out tonight.
your mutual friend jeonghan’s set him on a blind date with a friend of a friend, and vernon’s heading out because he doesn’t have any other obligations. apart from your weekly movie night. which happens every saturday, without fail. you get a chance to pick a movie every other week. it’s your turn tonight, and while you usually love watching…spirited away, you remember, looking at the screen before looking back at him, it doesn’t seem that fun when you’re the only one on the sofa tonight.
it hurts that he’s okay with skipping movie night this time around. it always happens, even if either of you has to go somewhere the next day. it’s something that started out of boredom and has become an unspoken tradition.
but it doesn’t matter now. vernon’s going to go on a date with someone handpicked by jeonghan. someone who’s no wonder gorgeous, and funny, and smart, and the perfect match for him. he’s going to fall in love despite his whole i don’t fall in love easily at all shtick. and he’s going to go on even more dates, and move out, and maybe even marry—
“what if i say no?”
“either i wake you up from your sleep, or i spend the whole night freezing outside our door.”
you roll your eyes. vernon can be pretty dramatic when he needs to be. “i’m not that cruel. you can take my keys. they’re on my table.”
vernon’s eyes widen slightly. “really? i’ll get them, no worries,” he says, hand reaching out to push you back down into the sofa when you try to get to your feet. you shut your eyes for a moment at the touch, and he’s gone when you open them.
is it some kind of cosmically unlucky coincidence that jeonghan set vernon up on a date just days after you confessed your feelings about vernon to seungcheol? or is it some sort of conspiracy to get you jealous enough to confess to vernon, and then sit back and watch your life fall apart when he inevitably rejects you?
either way, it’s not going to work. there’s no magic than can possibly bring the two of you together.
a loud sound from the television startles you and makes you realize it’s been a minute or two since vernon’s been in your room. your mind first jumps to wonder whether you’ve left it in a mess, but you haven’t. your bed is neat, your laundry is washed and folded, and your desk is empty. you don’t have any journals dedicated to your feelings for him, thankfully. the notes app in your phone is a worthy substitute.
what the heck is he doing there, then?
“vern?” you call out, a bit uncertain. “aren’t they on the table?”
“yeah,” he calls out, and you hear his footsteps as he heads out of your room. “sorry. i got distracted.” he dangles your keys in front of you. “didn’t know you kept this,” he says, pointing to one of the keychains attached to the keys.
it’s a small mario figurine he’d given you for one of your birthdays. it’s eroded past the point of recognition, and the only reason you can tell it’s mario is because vernon had given it to you. specifically because of the sheepish smile he’d had as he caught you at the end of the party, apologizing for not being able to get a better gift in time. it’s still one of your most cherished gifts, and it’s even more valuable because vernon has a matching luigi keychain for his car keys.
“there wasn’t any reason for me to throw it away,” you point out.
vernon jerks his head to the side. “fair. also, you lied to me.”
“i…did? about?”
“not having this picture with you,” he says, sliding his hand into his pocket and pulling out a small polaroid. it’s too far to recognize anyone in it, but when he brings it closer to you, you swear you understand what people mean when they say their blood freezes.
it’s a picture of you and him at seungcheol’s last party, a few months ago. you’re sitting next to vernon, his hand around your shoulders and his head resting against yours. you don’t remember ever seeing him smile this much in a photo before. but he’d also been tipsy that night, which explains why he might’ve been like that. if it had been him and anyone else, it would have looked like a picture of a couple, but with you in it, it’s just two friends. nothing more.
the incriminating thing about the photo, however, isn’t the photo itself. it’s what’s written on the back. it says tell him you love him already! in soonyoung’s half-tidy scrawl. pipe dream, is what your reply was. i’ll tell him when he does first. because, obviously, he’d never do that.
you can’t bring yourself to meet vernon’s eyes, afraid of what he might say. the only reason the picture was ever pinned to your bulletin board was because you never expected him to see it there, and yet your worst fears have come true.
“if you’d shown me this earlier,” vernon says, placing the photo on your lap, “i wouldn’t have had to say yes to jeonghan hyung tonight.”
you don’t comprehend his words immediately, but he’s not upset. okay. you can deal with this. “why would it change—”
“because i love you.”
time stops, too. vernon is looking intently at you, his gaze never shifting as he reaches out for the remote and presses the pause button. that’s…kinda hot, you think, sinking into the sofa as much as you can. you’re done for.
“aren’t you going to say it back to me?”
“i…what? love you?”
“you’re going to have to sound more convincing if you want to make this dream reality.”
“i…love you?” you ask, swallowing.
“one more time?” he asks, sinking to his knees in front of you. his hand reaches for yours.
this is vernon. your best friend, your roommate, and your only crush for the longest time ever. you can almost see seungkwan in your mind’s eye, urging you to say something.
“do i have to say it?” you ask, your grip on his hand tightening. “wasn’t the photo still being up there proof enough?”
“it was,” he says, that small smile you love so much gracing his lips, “but i’d like to hear it from you.”
“i…” dreaming of being able to say those words to him is one thing, but actually saying those words to him, knowing that he knows you love him feels…unlike anything you’ve felt before. you’re unable to meet his eyes.
again, this is vernon. you’ve shared a good number of embarrassing moments with him as your roommate, and yet…
“hm?”
“i love you,” you say, eyes shut, stomach feeling not unlike how it does at the precipice before the roller coaster falls towards the ground.
“you’re not even going to look at me?”
you’ve nearly said it thrice till now, and the more you say it, the easier it seems to get. especially when vernon wants you to say it to him. you open your eyes and glare at him. “fine. i love you, chwe vernon. i think you already knew it, but do with that what you will.”
vernon smiles that brilliant smile soonyoung had captured on camera months ago, and getting to see it directed at you feels amazing. “what i’m going to do, is apologize to jeonghan hyung,” he says, getting up to his feet.
“why? what about your date?”
“there’s someone else i’d like to have as my date.”
several hours later, when you’ve both watched a movie each of your choice, vernon leans against your shoulder while you wrap your blanket closer around the two of you.
“i thought i’d been clear that night,” he says. whispers, given how tired he sounds. you look down at the messy mop of hair resting on your shoulder. his hair’s gotten longer. when was the last time he’d gotten it cut? with little hesitation, you lift your hand and push his fringe back so it doesn’t cover his eyes.
“i thought you were tipsy.”
he huffs a laugh. self-depreciating. you know him well enough by now to be able to tell what he means. “liquid courage. i hoped you’d take a hint.”
you’d wanted to, so badly. vernon hadn’t left your side that night even once, and he held onto your hand all the way back home. you figured it had been for physical support.
apparently not.
you feel a surge of fondness run through you. you wish he could see it.
“vernon?”
“yeah?”
“i love you. i’m sorry i took this long to say it.”
you feel him press his cheek against your shoulder a little harder. he’s going to fall asleep soon.
“don’t be. i love you, too.”
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched
@minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo
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delicatebarness · 5 months
Text
cry baby | chapter one
Summary: Cry Baby went on a date? And, it wasn't with Bucky?
Warning: Smoking. Alcohol, tipsy motorcycle driving. DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE KIDS. Crying. Bucky is so toxic but sweet, I'm a fool.
Word Count: 1528
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A/N: I speed-wrote this so the posting schedule wasn't out of sync, but ooops hit the post now button too early. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute
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Three months passed since that night at your apartment, in that time, the routine had become almost ordinary. It was a pattern, Bucky would show up at your apartment bruised and grazed up, and you would patch him up. Without questioning why or how it happened. The worry still gnawed at the back of your mind. 
Summer had settled over the city, warmth wrapping around everything from the streets to the bar. The familiar sounds of laughter and motorcycle engines roaring became clearer as you got closer to the bar. Already late to meet your friends as is, you began to walk a little faster. 
“Well, well, if it isn’t the prettiest face in the city,” Rumlow drawled, his eyes raking over your body, making your skin crawl, as you walked passed him and his group of friends to get toward the door of the bar. 
“Rumlow,” you acknowledged as you tried to move past him. He stepped in front of you, blocking your path.
“What’s the rush? How about you and I have a little chat?” a smirk tugged at his lips as he began to reach up toward your cheek.
You glanced around, hoping to spot a familiar face that wasn’t loyal to Rumlow, but the street was eerily quiet. “I’m meeting my brother, excuse me.” 
He leaned in closer, his hand now reaching your cheek. Gently caressing it as he continued to speak, “I’ve been watching you, you know. I’ve always wondered if you taste as sweet as you look.” 
Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, your eyes darting toward anything but his. Unbeknownst to you, Sam Wilson had pulled up outside the bar, just in time to witness the interaction. 
Without hesitation, Sam dismounted his motorcycle and strode toward you. “Is there a problem here?” Sam’s words cut through the air like a knife, drawing the attention of both you and Rumlow as he grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket. 
A sign of relief escaped your breath at the sight of Sam, grateful for the timely intervention. Rumlow, on the other hand, sized up Sam with a gace before deciding to retreat, bringing his hand up as a show of surrender. 
“I’ll see you around,” He said toward you, his tone dripping with implication before he turned back toward his friends. 
Same watched his every move, his expression guarded. He turned to you, once he was assured Rumlow wasn’t an issue anymore. “You okay?” he asked, offering a reassuring smile. 
You nodded, and the weight of the tension lifted. “Thanks, Sam.” Same returned the nod, giving the area another look around before leading you into the bar. His protective instincts were still alert.
Inside, the rest of the group noticed as both you and Sam walked through the door. You all exchanged greetings as you slid into the booth next to Bucky. The scent of your vanilla perfume mixed with the smell of smoke and beer, a combination that had become comforting to him. 
As you settled into the booth, Bucky rested his arm over the back of the booth behind your head. “Took you long enough,” Natasha gestured her bottle toward you before taking a quick sip. “The date went that well, did it?” She couldn’t resist making a joke at your expense.
Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of a date, his jaw clenched as your cheeks rushed with heat. “A date, huh?” he remarked, sarcasm laced in his tone.
You began fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “Um, yeah…” you mumbled, trying to avoid the gazes of your friends and especially your brother. 
Before you could dwell anymore on it, Steve redirected the conversation, but the sense of Bucky’s fist clenching not far from your head made the unease linger. 
Throughout the night, you found yourself stealing glances at Sam, unsure of how to navigate the aftermath of the situation outside. You began replaying his words in your mind, causing your emotions to get the better of you. 
Bucky sensed your sudden quietness, catching one of your sniffles. “What now?” he mumbled, only loud enough for you to hear. 
“Just ran into someone outside,” you sniffled again, glancing back at Bucky with tears in your eyes. “It’s fine now,” you shot him an unconvincing smile. 
“Yeah,” he began as he picked up his bottle, “looks like it.” he glanced back down at you as he took a swig. 
~
As you stepped outside, you watched as your friends began to retrieve their motorcycles, getting ready to leave. The six of you began mumbling goodnights to each other, you telling each of them to drive safely, as Bucky stood watching by his motorcycle. He offered you a tentative smile and gestured toward the helmet on his seat. “Need a ride?” 
You nodded, and he passed you the helmet as you climbed onto the back. The ride was exhilarating, wind whipped through the stray strand of your head as you clung to Bucky’s waist. 
“Thank you, Bucky,” you said softly as you dismounted after he turned off the engine outside your apartment building. 
“Anytime, Sweetheart,” he paused before he turned to face you, his expression serious. “Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, his eyes searching yours as you passed him the helmet back. A knot formed in your stomach, and you nodded sheepishly. “I hope your date went well.”
You shifted uncomfortably, feeling self-conscious you pulled your cardigan further around you. “Um, yeah, it was okay,” you mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze.
He began to chuckle softly, sensing your nervousness. “Just okay? Wow, sounds thrilling,” he remarked with a sarcastic tone.
You managed a weak smile, his teasing making you feel more embarrassed. “Um, well, it was our second date,” you admitted shyly, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “He asked for a third,” 
Bucky’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but the playful smirk never left his lips. “Oh, did he?” an amused tone in his response. “Looks like you made quite an impression then,” he continued, his tone was still playful but yet, intrigued. “Is it Sam?” he questioned.
Your head shot up to meet his gaze, and confusion spread across your features. “What? No, it’s, um, well it’s,” you paused, your nervousness causing you to hesitate. “It’s a guy from work, John Walk-,”
Bucky’s playful demeanor vanished in an instant, anger replacing the simmer in his eyes. His jaw tensed, and his eyes narrowed into a hard glare as he processed what you admitted. 
“John Walker?” Bucky’s voice was low, a dangerous growl, the name left a sour taste in his mouth. 
You nodded, “Yeah, um, he’s just a guy from work,” you hesitantly replied, thrown off-guard by Bucky’s transformation. 
“That son of a…” his voice trailed off, the words barely contained his fury. His anger seemed to intensify, his voice rising in volume as he continued venting his frustration toward you. “I can’t believe you’d even consider going near him!” he bellowed, words echoing through the empty street. 
You flinched at the force of his outburst, each word felt like it was a physical blow. “Bucky…” your voice quivering with emotion. 
His features contorted in anger as he continued, “You don’t understand!” He was consumed by his rage, causing it almost impossible for you to hear your voice asking him to stop. “He’s dangerous, he’s… he’s not someone you want to be involved with!”
Each word began to cut deeper than the last, leaving you feeling vulnerable, the tears spilled down your face. “Please, Bucky,” you shouted back at him, your voice rising in desperation, “stop shouting at me!” 
Your raised voice caught Bucky off guard, his anger faltering the moment he finally looked down at you. At that moment, he saw the tears, the fear, and the hurt. The realization that he had caused it, hit him like a punch to the gut. 
Bucky let out a heavy sigh as his features softened, the red lights in his eyes dimming as he reached down to gently wipe your soaked cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, every part of him filled with regret, “I… I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” 
“Sh-shouting at m-me like th-that doesn’t hel-help,” your voice shaky, and interrupted by hiccups. His gaze truly softened as he took in your words. 
With that, he pulled you into a comforting hug, holding you close as you both took a moment to calm down. 
“Let’s get you inside, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his voice now barely a whisper as he felt your shaking subside. You nodded, sniffling as you pulled back from him. 
That night, you both walked up to your apartment, and Bucky kept a protective arm around you. Once inside, you realized tonight would be different. Usually, you’d make your way to the kitchen and begin patching up his wounds. 
“Let me take care of you for a change,” he said, leading you toward your couch. He fetched a warm face cloth and gently wiped away the tear stains on your cheeks. You leaned into his comforting touch, a new sense of safety enveloping you.
---
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colonelarr0w · 6 months
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hi i hope you’re well! i love your writing and i was hoping to make a req for gojo. reader riding his face and he’s just sloppy with it because he’s obsessed with her and how good she tastes and he won’t stop talking about it either lmao full on loverboy <3 thank you so much!
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Sypnosis - Read above request.
Warning(s) - This is just smut guys, c'mon, read the request.
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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“C’mon baby, pleaseee?” Satoru whines, turning his head so that his cheek rests against your inner thigh. His eyes flicker up to you, wide and puppy-like. God, you could already feel yourself folding. 
Your fingers pause their scratching of Satoru’s scalp, eyes boring into his own as you force yourself to wear a stern expression.  
“I don’t know ‘toru,” you murmur offhandedly, wincing as Satoru’s expression falls. He sighs, breath fanning out over the exposed skin of your leg — which sends a shiver up your spine.  
He pouts, bottom lip jutting out as his arms squeeze around your waist. You jolt, not having expected the gesture.  
“What’s the worst that could happen?” 
“I crush you…?” 
Satoru hums, tilting his head as if he were weighing his options. You bite back the laugh that bubbles in the back of your throat, nearly allowing your resolve to crumble.  
“What a way to go out—“ 
“Satoru!” You slap a hand against the back of his head, chuckling breathily as he dramatically yelps, then burying his head into your stomach. “Don’t say things like that.” 
He groans, the vibration of his voice tickling your skin. Your fingers return to his hair, scratching lightly over his scalp — it makes you giggle how he immediately leans into the touch, practically purring. 
“Pleaseee~?” Satoru begs, flashing you his signature puppy eyes again in the hopes that it would break you down enough to say ‘yes’ to his one request. 
(In truth, he was making it seem like this was his last request before he would surrender to the skeletal hands of Death.) 
“Are you sure that you want me to sit on your face?” you raise your eyebrow. The expression that Satoru wears is comical — his eyebrows flattened and his eyes narrowed in the most ‘Are you kidding me?’ look that you had ever seen. 
And that’s what brought you here. 
On top of Satoru’s nose. 
Rocking your hips against him as you desperately chased an orgasm that was right there.  
The lewd sounds of Satoru slurping up every bit of what you offer him only makes the coil in your stomach tighten. His tongue is buried in your heat, greedily licking up every last bit of your essence and moaning against you.  
You brace yourself on your palms, hands on either side of Satoru’s head with your fingers curling up the sheets. You throw your head back, moaning out in such a pornographic way that Satoru genuinely thought he had cum in his pants (he didn’t … yet).  
His tongue moves upward, lips latching onto your clit as he roughly sucks on the sensitive bundle of nerves, holding your hips steady as you begin to lose your balance on top of him.  
“C’mon pretty girl, wan’ you to cum on my tongue,” Satoru murmurs against you, the vibrato of his voice sending a delicious shiver up your spine. 
You glance down, the coil in your stomach nearly snapping at the mere sight of Satoru’s eyes peering up at you, pupils lust blown from the position that you were currently in.  
A broken moan falls from your lips as you rock your hips against his face, clit just barely rubbing against the tip of his nose. “‘toru!” 
The lewd sound of Satoru gulping down all your pussy offers him is the answer that you receive — that which finally pushes you completely over the edge.  
Your body stutters, nearly losing your balance. Satoru’s hands grab at the skin of your thighs, fingers digging into the supple flesh and leaving behind small crescent marks from his nails.  
His tongue works you through your orgasm, tongue kitten-licking your clit until you’re convulsing on the verge of overstimulation. Your chest rises and falls in whiny pants, body trying to lift itself from Satoru’s mouth — but he continues his relentless actions.  
Your fingers tangle themselves into his hair, nails grazing against his scalp and tugging upward on the strands. Satoru groans against you, the vibration keeping you teetering on the edge of another orgasm. You tug your bottom lip up between your teeth, biting down into the flesh and swallowing another moan as it rises in your throat.  
Finally, after one last tug to his hair, Satoru lets you fall back against the bed, chest rising and falling as you attempt to catch your breath. He turns his head, grinning at you with that same shit-eating grin that he always wore in situations where he was proven right.  
"See, nothing bad happened!" Satoru grins as he tugs you into his arms, pressing chaste kisses against your neck as you lean into him, nose tucking into the crook of his neck.  
You hum in response, eyes already fluttering shut as exhaustion begins to seep into your bones. Satoru only chuckles to himself, squeezing you tighter against him and pressing a lingering kiss to your hairline. He glances down at your sleepy face, smiling to himself as he cards his fingers through your hair, nails scraping against your scalp.  
"So can we do it again?" 
"'toru!" 
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eamour · 7 months
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a radical change.
radical change requires radical action. i am not indicating any physical act but rather an act done in the mind. if we aspire to change radically, we must radically BE and HAVE within imagination. we are compelled to satisfy our inner self and save our own personal reality.
imagination as the real self.
"you are now an outer reflection of inner identification."
this is a principle that everybody who wants to successfully manifest needs to understand: your true self is IMAGINATION. what you are physically, you have been mentally first. we are not pretending, not trying to sound spiritual, we are simply stating something factual. you can only ever be imagination since imagination is your purest form of being. it’s the place where all things come to fruition.
the personal reality within.
knowing that imagination is our real self, our inner being, that means that we may decorate it the way we want. we can make it as beautiful and as ugly as we please. as a consequence, your inner reality does not obey nor surrender to outer circumstances. the rules and restrictions of the outside do not apply to imagination, nor is your inner world bothered by the limitations of life. meaning, to ensure a change of reality from WITHOUT, you will first have to affirm a change of reality from WITHIN. there is no way around it.
to change radically.
the medium through which we experience is the same medium through which we change — it’s FEELING. an assumption is a feeling. to assume that you have or do not have your desire is a feeling. it’s a state of mind. a mental state that reveals your inner self. to change self radically, you need to assume radically. you need to FEEL radically.
"nothing changes if nothing changes."
the importance of drastic change.
from what i have learned in my own manifestation journey, it is so important to drastically change. to desire the impossible and to dare to asssume it, for courage is necessary, means to step out of your comfort zone. it means to prove the law's credibility and functioning for yourself. otherwise, it's always going to be "coincidence", "luck" or "it would have happened anyway". when i choose to make radical things happen by radically changing within, i won’t go out and seek for answers outside of me. i will understand that i am CAUSE and i am the EFFECT.
be the change.
a little change of mind can only result in a little change of reality. that being so, a bigger change of mind has no option but to result in a bigger change of reality. and your inner self can only identify with what you identify with. thus, you are always in charge, always in control. so why not be the change? again, you can only ever experience the PRESENT, the very NOW in imagination. for you to see changes NOW, you are obligated to change NOW.
"all the mind asks is, 'what do you want?'" — edward art.
with love, ella.
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