#like i really thought he would stop when the lease was over and i could finally block him like i just continue to be so stupid

[pessimisticprincess]

/

[kooyabooya]

BABYLON

m reader x sana // 26k words

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.” 

[princessbrunette]

rafe had been trying to pick a fight with bunny!reader all day due to his bad mood. however, due to her being a little ray of pink glittery sunshine — it just wasn’t happening.

first, the problem was the pink glittery dildo in your dresser that he found whilst snooping due to boredom, waiting for you to be done in the shower. he argues with himself whilst you sit at your vanity, giggling and happily doing your makeup.

“you tellin’ me you need that shit? ‘cus… ‘cus if that’s the case, don’t come begging for dick every thirty minutes when clearly you could be fixing your own problems.” he rants, huffing as you carefully brush mascara through your eyelashes.

“its not the same! pluuuus, i haven’t used that thing in ages. dont even know where you found it, daddy.” you’re clearly amused and it’s making things worse, locking eyes with your boyfriend through the mirror as he stands with his hands on his hips.

“think i’m stupid, right? if you weren’t still using this thing you would have thrown it in the trash.”

you spin on your stool, giving him a convincing pout. “i only use it when you go away on business trips with your dad, ‘cos i just miss you so much.”

he blinks, clearly not out of juice.

“you need to learn a little patience and self discipline, alright — you’ll appreciate this dick more without the fuckin’ silicone version.” he drawls and you giggle again at his word choice before bringing your manicured fingers to your lips to stop yourself.

“m’attached to it rafey. i like it. its pink and glittery and i’m not throwing it away.” you stand your ground, and his jaw ticks, looking around once more at the toy laying on your bed.

“cant do all the shit i do n’you know it… right? you call me when that toy fuckin’ chokes you out how you like it or spits in your damn asshole and shoves its thumb in there. yeah?” he mouths off before leaving the room, caring less and less about the argument as time goes on. now you really couldn’t fight him — he was playing dirty, and that made you horny.

his fighting spirit is given a new lease of life downstairs in the kitchen, when you accidentally blurt out the wrong name whilst speaking to him.

you’re giggling uncontrollably once more, grabbing at his shirt in the kitchen attempting to pull you closer as he holds his hands up, pretending to be totally disgusted.

“nah, who the fuck is that — huh? nate?”

“gosh, rafey — he’s from gossip girl! i was just thinkin’ about the show and your names sound similar! was an accident!” the fact you don’t sound sorry in the slightest is grinding his gears, not hugging you back when you manage to wrap your arms around him. “daddy hug me back.” you pout, and he peels you back with his hands on your shoulders.

“on thin fuckin’ ice today… alright?” he raises his eyebrows. you smile and nod, earrings jangling like there wasn’t a thought in your head.

it’s on the way to the country club that he’s really had enough, insisting on playing your music in the car, constantly winding down the volume to ask questions that didn’t need to be asked. your delicate hand reaches out for the volume toggle once more and he smacks it away.

“if you’re going to ask me if i’d still love you as a worm, or whatever bullshit you’ve conjured up — i suggest staying quiet, yeah? already told you that you’re pushing it today.”

he doesn’t have to look at you to know your smile is spreading.

“that wasn’t my question, but would you?”

the car pulls over to the side of the road with a swiftness, and he turns his body in his seat. you look unbothered as ever.

“why’d we stop?”

“you’re uh, you’re goin’ in the trunk. okay?” he rasps slowly, nodding his head like it would hypnotise you into agreeing. somehow, it worked — because your grin remains.

“okay!”

he marches over to your side and yanks you out before walking you round the back and opening the trunk. “i’m serious. get in.”

you do with no complaints — and by the time he is back in the drivers seat, he believes he’s taken it too far. however there’s no banging around, no crying, no screaming for him to let you out — so he drives away. the silence is rewarding, but he doesn’t feel great about it.

when he pulls up to the country club, he’s quick to walk around the backside of his truck and open up the trunk, relieved to see you happy as a clam — and lifts you out from under your arms. “that was fun! it was like you were a kidnapper, but also my boyfriend.” your eyes have a twinkle to them as he marches you towards his group of friends, gawking with questioning gazes.

“yeah you like that shit? ‘that turn you on?” he bites back sarcastically, but you nod anyway.

[bunny584]

A Girl with No Name

A/N: This one shot POURED out of me. All because of this incredible art by @chu-cho Thank you for creating this masterpiece. Hope I can do your art justice. 

Ok, let me set the scene. Euphoria, SKINS, and Degrassi procreated in the basement of Kappa Alpha. Keg to the right. A designer tray of substances to the left. The boys in the middle. And you…you crack the whi— what? Who said that? 

CW: Frat AU, implied substance use, mature 18+, MDNI

‘Ain’t a pill that I didn’t take’

Lyrics that feel too familiar tread water between Suguru’s ears. They glide along his skin. Which feels like silk, by the way. 

Silk.

Who ever made that is a Nobel laureate.  

‘Cause Imma sleep when I R.I.P.’ 

Euphoria. 

Who chose the lights?

They’re vivid. Swarming. Like the walls are a tile dance floor. Yeah. Light picker deserves a Nobel too.

“You are so fucked right now.” His best friend’s sharp ass voice dices his lucid thoughts to smithereens. 

“Shut up, Satoru.” He’s not wrong. 

“We took the same shit.” Suguru perches on the solo cup ridden kitchen island. Sitting is good. 

“Plus, I’m bigger than you.” 

“If you wanna compare dicks just say so.” Satoru sneers, he’s cockier when inebriated. 

In any other instance when Suguru is of sound mind, Satoru would’ve caught a jab to the chest. But two reasons why that can’t happen. 

One, he’s currently tripping balls. 

Two, you just walked in. 

Like you own the house. 

Maneuvering your body around the active pong table. Slipping past the chatty women gawking in their direction. Gearing for attack. Shifty and nervous, but the vodka cranberry is courage elixir. 

The boys have about 45 seconds to engage with said women or divert. 

But you are currently leaning over the counter reaching for a shot glass well out of your zip code. A little red dress on. All curves, no brakes. With an ass that could make anyone believe in God. 

Sorry, girls. Tonight, they are going to divert. 

Suguru catches Satoru’s heady gaze. No words needed. They share instincts. The boys have been in stride since the day they met. 

They saunter over to the counter you’re mounting. An easy reach for them both. 

“Didn’t realize your name was on the lease, princess.” 

Satoru plucks the double shot glass down from Mount Everest. Handing it over between two fingers. 

Still propped up on the counter with one knee, you peer down at them both. Letting the white noise of utter disinhibition drape the space between you. 

Suguru planned on softening Satoru’s blow, but then you smile. 

Cavalier and gorgeous.

Like it’s a golden ticket into spaces you don’t belong in. 

The answer to questions people don’t realize need asking. 

The cure for everything. 

And right now? It is. The cure.

Suguru stands stupefied as you brace yourself on his shoulders. Thank God his hands still know what to do. They snake around your tapered waist and pull you to solid ground. 

Speak, dumbass.

“You didn’t? It’s in the fine print.” Your voice beats him to it. And is fucking dessert. 

Bad for you. Horrible for you. But good in the way self-indulgence is.

You take your shot glass (really, anything in the house is yours if you want it). And steer away to the refrigerator.

Your absence jumpstarts Suguru’s out-of-commission brain. 

“Excuse him, he was raised by monkeys. Can I help you find something?” 

Suguru and Satoru reposition themselves behind you while you rummage. Bent over at the waist. Head nearly submerged in the pull out freezer. 

Are you doing this on purpose? 

Are you trying to be a cocktease? 

Satoru isn’t even attempting to stop eye-fucking you. 

Suguru pulls his tongue ring in and out of his teeth. Anything to stop ruminating on the melody of sounds that’ll fill the room when his hips slam into your ass repeatedly. 

“There it is,” you stand back to your full height. Triumphant. Jack Daniels in hand. 

Your eyes are pools of quicksand. Why else would Suguru’s mouth feel more stuck than his feet? 

“You’re a whiskey, kind of girl?” Satoru smirks, amused at your vice choice. 

Again, the boys follow your movements like two expertly trained German Shepards. Flanking you when you settle at the corner of the island. Meticulously over-pouring your first double shot. 

“I’m a good time kind of girl.” The way your slender neck tilts back is immoral. Throating the dark liquid like water.

…what else can that throat handle? 

“Okay, good time girl wh—“ 

“Listen.” You snip Satoru’s snide remark at its base. Leaving both of them silent. Watching. Waiting. 

“Brad,” you pointedly look at Suguru.

“And Chad,” eyes dagger into Satoru.

“Thank you for the warm welcome but I’m not interested in talking.” 

The back of your hand swipes against your full lips. And Suguru can’t seem to pull his eyes off of them.

Satoru, after a moment of stunned silence, lets out his laugh. The one that means you’ve won his undivided attention for the night. 

“Close, but no cigar baby. Try again.” Satoru leans onto his forearms. Tilting his intoxicated gaze up at you. 

“Right idea, though.” Suguru chimes in. Tongue finally deciding to work. 

“Ahh, I hear you loud and clear.” You retort, golden-ticket smile back on your face. 

Your nose wrinkles in feigned concentration and Suguru nearly passes out.

Are you really this hot? Or is he just that blasted? 

 “Preppy,” your hand cups Satoru’s face. And his Adam’s Apple bobs deeply. 

Good, Satoru is feeling this as hard as he is. 

“And Edgy.” Suguru gawks at the way your lips hang open after your snarky guess at his name leaves your mouth.

Satoru’s wolfish chuckle is what re-tethers Suguru to this dimension. How the fuck is he keeping up with you right now? 

“No, no. I got it.” You pipe up. 

Placing one hand over each of theirs. Suguru greedily intertwines his long fingers between your petite ones. 

“Thunder.” You squeeze Suguru’s hand and his soul nearly leaks out of his dick. 

“And Lightening.” 

Cotton candy dusts Satoru’s nose to his ears when you look up at him. Suguru can see the vulgar scenarios on cinematic repeat in his best friend’s mind.

And it’s tame compared to the ways Suguru wants to disrespect you. 

“We can work with that.” Suguru flashes a smile of his own. Purposefully keeping his tongue ring out of your view. 

“And what can we call you?” Satoru probes. Zeroed in because no one else in the room exists. 

Your hands return back to your side, and Suguru misses your warmth immediately. 

“No name.” 

Flippant. Lighthearted like what you said was normal. 

“What was that?” Satoru spurts out. Saliva bubbling in his half open mouth. 

You glide away from the kitchen. Into the den with bodies colliding. Walls thrumming. Lights strobing.

Delicate hands cup around your mouth. Turning back to face your new guard dogs. 

“Not here to talk, boys!” 

The three of you are interwined at the center of the crowded room in seconds. 

But time is warped.

Because Suguru is traversing Death Zone altitude on the mountain. And Satoru is swimming at Abyssal Zone depth in the ocean. 

You are the 8th cardinal sin. 

You writhe and undulate your curves in and out of their grasp. Gripping onto Satoru’s neck, strumming his undercut when he’s facing you. Winding your hips against Suguru’s crotch when he’s behind you. 

Suguru’s cock has never been this hard, he’s half worried it could snap in half. Hissing against your neck. Groaning behind your ear. So goddamn grateful for the music drowning out his desperation. 

But his skin is on fire. He can feel every vessel pulsate.

You are not a want. 

You are a need. 

“Need you.” Suguru gruffs in your ear. Flickering up to Satoru, who is mirroring his hooded gaze. 

Suguru watches your pretty hand trail down Satoru’s chest. Satoru rolls his bottom lip under his teeth. Apt nickname you chose for him, because there are lightening bolts in his eyes. 

“Take me upstairs,” you whisper back, tilting up to capture Suguru in your web. 

And he is so captured. So entangled. 

The boys lead you to Suguru’s bedroom in the frat house. Even though the walk felt like miles, exactly no time passes when you three close the door behind you.

Suguru’s lips magnet to yours. Insatiable in the way he sucks and pulls on your lips. Tongue tasting every corner of your sweet mouth. 

Satoru drops his head to the crook of your neck. Sucking bruises. Tracing his large grasp up and underneath your dress. No time or room for manners with how his cock is tenting against its weak restraints.

“So eager, boys.” You giggle in between their hungry kisses. 

And you’re right. 

It’s embarrassing, their display right now. 

But neither one of them have the capacity to stop. 

And hold it together. 

And lead. Like they both are used to. 

“Sorry,” Satoru grunts into the feminine slope of your neck. You let out an airy laugh when he starts to dry hump you. Tickling both of their incapable brains. 

You know Satoru is so far gone. 

And Suguru is trying to hold on to some semblance of dignity but his cock simply won’t let him. Not the way it’s drenching his sweats with need. 

“Take these off.” Melodic instructions fill Satoru and Suguru’s ears the minute you pull away from Suguru’s kiss. Your index finger hooked on both hems. 

As if your voice is a Pavlovian trigger, the boys step out of their pants and boxers. 

Rock hard. Desperate. Leaking. 

Your personal drones. 

Suguru can’t swallow the whimper that collides with Satoru’s whine when your hands drop to stroke both of them at the same time. Flickering your eyes between your two toys. Proud of the way their cocks are twitching and pumping beads of precum into your hands.

“God, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, princess.”

Satoru and Suguru are dizzy with heat. 

Just in time for you to drop to your knees. Dragging your closed, lipsticked lips along Suguru’s up curve.

“Please,” Suguru whispers.

You’re evil. 

And you ignore him. Dragging your soft, warm hand up the length of his shaft. Interjecting butterfly kisses in between. Working Satoru’s length in your other hand. Drawing punched out moans from the boys. Chests heaving. Clipped breaths. Pitiful. 

“On your knees, Lightning.” You beckon Satoru, while teasing his counterpart. 

Satoru doesn’t hesitate for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to. Propped on his knees, he stares into the side of your face. Awaiting further instruction. 

“Kiss me,” you demand, circling your lips around Suguru’s sensitive tip for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss. 

Satoru’s eyes widen. Your words startle the breath out of him. 

The lights are dim but Suguru doesn’t miss the blossoming cherry red flush. Spreading along his toned shoulders.

Your wet lips dragging along his swollen cockhead pulls Suguru’s eyes away from his celestial best friend. 

“Mmmgh f..fuck baby,” Suguru chokes out at your slow, mean ministrations. 

“Don’t be shy, Lightening.” Your tongue tickles his lead pipe with every spoken word around his girth. 

Suguru’s eyes fall to your hand. Now working its way up Satoru’s length. His core involuntarily curls into your sudden touch. Gossamer thin whine tumbling out of his lips. Suguru catches the way Satoru digs his fingernails into his milky skin. 

And his cock twitches against your lips at the sight. 

“Kiss me,” You beckon Satoru again, dragging your tongue up Suguru’s length. 

“I—I…“ Satoru stammers. Hips stuttering against your fist. Static fills Suguru’s head. 

He’s never seen him this docile. This pliant. It’s a mind fuck. 

No, no. 

The way Satoru pulls his eyes up to meet his gaze in that moment is a mind fuck. 

Is he hallucinating?

It’s like Suguru is seeing Satoru for the first time. 

Instead of being side by side, he’s across the street. Catching a glimpse of a God. Walking amongst men. 

Satoru’s expression has earned permanence in his brain. Snowy halo of hair. Long, palatial lashes fanning the Aegean Sea in his eyes. A mosaic of lust, desire, a little shame. 

Seeking permission.

Seeking approval. 

He is otherworldly. 

Vulnerable and soft. On his knees. Needy. It makes Suguru want to ram his cock past those pouty, swollen lips. 

But..but that’s wrong. Right? 

They’re best friends. Fucking soulmates. They don’t..they don’t do that. 

But the way he’s pouting.

God. 

Glassy eyed and helplessly turned on. Rutting his hips into your hand. 

Fuck. 

“Fuck,” Suguru mutters. A surge of his arousal landing on your tongue. Eliciting a breathy giggle in response. 

Followed by an out of body experience for the next few minutes. 

Suguru’s hand wires into Satoru’s cloud soft locks. Gentle grasp between the slender webspaces. 

“So pretty.” He rasps through the nails in his throat. 

Satoru’s pupils blow out at the praise. All but purring into his touch. Suguru barely applies any force and Satoru crashes his lips onto yours with Suguru’s thick head in between. 

Filthy. 

Nasty dirty vulgar sounds fill the room. Suguru’s constant stream of precum dripping onto your tongue, Satoru’s tongue. Raining down on your puffy, full tits.

You two exploring each other’s lips. 

Satoru’s angry length, squelching against your hand. 

It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 

“Such a good boy.” 

Your dulcet voice is a tornado decimating Suguru’s brain. He has to blink a few times to realize that the praise wasn’t meant for him. 

It was directed at Satoru. 

Who is desperately — eagerly — throating Suguru’s dick. Nose flaring. Diamond tears rolling down his blushing cheeks. Unintelligible garbles dribbling out the corners of his mouth. 

“Sa—Satoru, mmgh, god shit, shit.” Suguru’s hips take a cruel pace down his Person’s throat. 

“Mmm, Satoru.” You murmur into his ear. Tasting your new discovery. 

“Look how much Thunder likes fucking that mouth of yours.” 

Satoru’s tears splash against Suguru’s sex. But he opens his throat anyway. Swallowing his rod. Filthy bulge in the column of his throat. 

“Ahh, god..baby..” Suguru huffs when your devilish little hands tug at a palm full of his hair. 

When did you get next to him?

Doesn’t matter. 

Yet another natural disaster destroys Suguru’s brain when you push your tongue back into his mouth. While he violates Satoru’s mouth. 

The wire in Suguru’s stomach coils. Lava surges through every vessel in his body. Groin welling with a deep, carnal pressure. Everything feels too fucking good.

“Fuck, oh god fuck. I’m I—g—“

“Cum for me, baby.” 

You kiss your hushed command into Suguru’s mouth. His hips come to a screeching halt. Both hands down in Satoru’s hair, grazing along his undercut. 

Suguru tilts his chin to the ceiling. Thick loose mane tickling his mid back. Vision completely dark. He has no idea if he’s still in Satoru’s mouth. Or where his cum is landing. All he knows is death by pleasure right now.

You press your moist lips into Suguru’s neck.  

“You’re so beautiful like this.” Sweet words reverberate against Suguru’s skin. 

His head slowly comes back to earth. And just as his eyes pull back open — a shudder and blinding light assaults his vision. Up close. 

“Woah, what the hell?” 

Suguru is met with a Polaroid camera. Printing evidence of his nirvana. His brows crawl together defensively.

“What do you—“

“Relax, thunder.” You coo with that smile that’s decadent, beautiful poison. 

You step over a dazed Satoru. Still on his knees. Lazily stroking up his neglected hard cock. 

Suguru’s eyes track you to his bed. You place the developing film on the nightstand. 

“These are for your eyes only.” 

“I don’t mind.” Satoru huffs. Rising to his feet. Deep within your trance. You could’ve asked him to cut off an arm and he’d offer you both. 

Satoru would follow you into Hell if you demanded it. 

Suguru would too. 

“Boys, come.” You curl your finger at them. And pairs of feet move. 

“Thunder, why don’t you put that tongue ring to good use. While I take care of pretty little Satoru.” 

His name on your lips snaps something buried in his soul. Satoru steps to the head of the bed. Leaning against the wall. Cock heavy with his seed. A string of arousal hanging low from his tip. 

You make a dramatic show to catch Satoru’s leaking string of cum before it wastes on Suguru’s sheets. 

“You’re fucking filthy, princess.” Satoru hisses. He can’t remember the last time he’s blinked the whole night. 

You smile around his bulbous tip, then pull him into your warm heat in one go. 

And fuck, Satoru can feel you sucking through to his throat. 

His whimpers sound so pathetic in his ears. But he is so lust-drunk he couldn’t care less. 

One look down and he sees his best friend whining underneath your precious cunt. As you circle your hips around Suguru’s metal-clad tongue. Taking your pleasure directly from his mouth. 

Suguru’s half hard sex pulsates against his perfectly toned abs. Satoru has to look away. His orgasm threatening to come too soon. 

“Mmmnggh, so good with your tongue, Thunder.” You gurgle around Satoru’s length. 

Arousal flavored saliva driveling down your chin. The sensation drives Satoru to piston his hips until his tip abuses the limit of your dainty throat. 

You shouldn’t have any space to breathe, much less talk. 

“Pl-please. Suguru. Name’s Suguru.” 

“Say his name baby.” Satoru’s order is low. Raptorial. Hips bucking wildly into your mouth. Heat crashing into his groin. 

He’s so close. He’s—

“S-Suguru.”

And Satoru dives off your cliff edge. Hearing his Person’s name tumble out of your mouth and around his cock snapped his self-control in half. 

Ropes off thick, warm heat spill out the side of your mouth. Staining your bunched up dress, the sheets and everything in between. 

“S-so close,” you huff, humping Suguru’s tongue more aggressively. 

A familiar camera shudder and solar bright light fans your outstretched neck. Capturing your cum-stained ascension. 

You flash Satoru a knowing smirk. Another beam of light aimed in his face before he tosses your camera off to the side. 

Satoru crashes his lips into yours. Eager to taste himself off your mouth. 

Your bodies move in perfect tandem. Satoru kisses your peak from your lips while Suguru coaxes your wet orgasm onto his tongue. Your high drenches Suguru and the sheets around him. 

The three of you piece yourselves together. Completely plaited within each other’s warm, moist limbs. Basking in the serotonin showers misting you three in post-coital bliss. 

No one remembers, but you wish each other sweet dreams before the fog settles. And the night re-claims you to sleep. 

                                     ——

Sunlight is downright offensive. 

Suguru forces his heavy lids open.

7: 43 AM

Fucking, hell. 

A freight train is currently doing laps in Suguru’s mind. He flickers around the room. Haphazard clothes. Strewn socks. Satoru in Suguru’s 06 hockey jersey. Long limbs nearly dangling off the other side of his bed. 

Suguru glances down, somehow dressed only in Satoru’s black sweats

There’s a tiny sliver of space between their sodden bodies. Where you must’ve slept. 

Right.

You. 

Heaven’s fallen angel. 

You used to be God’s favorite. No way you still are.

Not with how fucking sinful you looked in that red dress. 

Snapping polaroids.

Taking their souls for play. 

Then having the audacity to leave them on the nightstand when you were through.

Suguru met The Devil last night. 

And she was…exquisite. 

“Fuck, my head.” Satoru groans, rolling over to face his dark-haired soulmate.

Suguru watches his eyes flutter open. And something within him catches. 

How has he not noticed how beautiful this boy is before?

“Here,” A glass of ice water, still sweating from condensation is waiting on Suguru’s nightstand. He takes a long sip before passing the lifeblood to Satoru. 

Satoru briefly meets Suguru’s gaze. Before averting, pretty mulberry blush flooding his face. 

“Was last night…real?” Satoru asks after an extended sip. 

Suguru meets his question with silence. Preoccupied with picture proof. 

Three polaroids neatly arranged on the nightstand. 

The first one is of Suguru. Hair moused, framing his intoxicated gaze. Remnants of his orgasm oozing from the still shot. Lips puffy and abused. Cheeks flushed. Suguru can barely recognize the man in the photo. 

His eyes dance to the cursive label at the bottom:

Thunder 

Alias: “Suguru”

A wry chuckle escapes his lips. He passes his photo to Satoru. 

The next polaroid is of his Person. Post orgasm haze heavy in his eyes. He managed to get his 10,000-kilowatt smile perfectly in the selfie. Also flushed. Also completely debauched. The blue in his eyes reflected nearly translucent. 

He’s a fucking masterpiece, that boy. 

Suguru knows what to expect at the bottom of Satoru’s polaroid:

Lightening

Alias: “Satoru”

“Shit man, these are amazing.” Satoru murmurs, intently studying Suguru’s polaroid. Absentmindedly accepting his.

“They are.” Suguru agrees, unknowingly holding his breath while pulling your polaroid into view. 

And of course.

It’s blurry. 

The only thing in focus is your graceful, arched neck, specks of Satoru’s finish glistening on your skin. Merlot red dress, pulled far below your breasts. Only thing pictured is the apex of your cleavage. Leaving Suguru’s mind to spiral into lucid memory of the rest of your silhouette. 

“Who…was that?” Satoru muses. Eyes now on the ceiling. Undoubtedly having the exact same swarm of flashbacks flood his mind. 

Suguru rolls your Polaroid between his index and long finger. The bottom of the photo reading:

No Name

A lazy smile tugs on the corner of his lips.

You are something else. 

Supernatural, almost.

“She’s a girl with no name.” 

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader. In the aftermath of your apartment flooding, Sukuna makes you a deal that is too good to pass up. You don't fully know what you're agreeing to, but if you did would it have really changed anything? Reader POV

cw: Sukuna may seem like just a nice guy stepping up but really he's a red flag you're just too tired to see. It's hinted reader has not been treated well in the past but no specifics.

You hadn't known what to do when you woke up to the sound of rushing water. You had acted on instinct and grabbed your daughter from the room next to yours and stood in the kitchen, calling your landlord from the number on your lease to no avail. Your daughter was starting to get fussy and after the fourth attempt with no answer, you felt lost.

Your ex hadn't exactly been the reliable type and he probably would have just contributed by cursing and complaining about shitty landlords and even shittier affordable housing but that wouldn't have helped then and thinking about it wasn't helping you now. Single, alone with your daughter who was growing more disgruntled by the minute.

You hated to even consider but, there was someone who you kept coming back to that you thought could help.

Sukuna.

The tattooed man across the hallway hadn't struck you as the friendly type, but he had proved you wrong in the few months since you moved in. He looked like the type of guy you would cross the street to avoid, but he always had time to stop and talk to you when he saw you. He also always made it a point to say hello to your daughter and listen to her rambles, even when they didn't make sense to you.

Your other neighbors had warned you about him. Stories that included threats and assaults you just couldn't connect to the man who had taken you and your daughter to the aquarium when your piece of shit ex bailed on you both, again.

You had googled him afterwards and what you saw was pages and pages that included things like attempted, suspected and scarier words like murder, hospitalized and other things that just didn't fit with the man you were still getting to know.

The water was still falling and once your daughter started waking up, you called it and went over to the maybe scary man across the hall, who never scared you.

Within ten minutes, you found yourself in Sukuna's guest room while he stayed behind at your apartment to figure everything out. When was the last time someone told you, "I got it." You were always the responsible one. You were the mom friend, the girlfriend people liked to introduce to their parents. You had basically parented yourself!

But now, there was someone who told you that, "I got it."

So who could blame you for going along with what came next. When the next morning came and Sukuna told you that your super had come too late and the apartment was damage and you couldn't stop yourself from putting your head in your hands as your daughter happily munched on the pancakes he had made you both.

"What am I going to do," you groaned and you couldn't help but lean in when Sukuna placed his hand on your cheek.

"He said he would put you up in a hotel until it can be fixed," he said gently and you sighed. You envisioned the next several months in some shitty motel with no kitchen, sharing a lumpy bed with your two year-old, disrupting the routines you had been trying so hard to build as a single mom. No more afternoon trips to the park that was less than a block away. No more feeding the ducks with your leftover veggies or sharing pick up duties with the other moms at the daycare by your work.

"This sucks, I don't want to have to build my life all over again." And you really didn't. This was so frustrating and over what, a little water damage?

"Well," Sukuna started and he tilted your head so you were looking at him. "I do have the guest room. You could move some of your stuff over here and camp out until it's fixed. Pocket the hotel money, use it for something for the kid."

"Oh, I couldn't impose on you like that-"

"I wouldn't offer if it was an imposition," he said, his eyes glinting and for just a second you could see a little of the danger your neighbors had told you about, but then it was gone and he was leaning over you to take another pancake from the serving tray and putting it on your daughter's empty plate.

"It's not just for you, I would-I would feel a lot better knowing the both of you were taken care of. I doubt the hotel that-" he cut off looking over at your daughter, "you know is putting you up in is going to be the safest place for the two of you."

You couldn't believe you were considering it but you were so tired. You felt like life had just become a series of less than ideal circumstances you were forced to deal with just because you didn't want to settle for the wrong guy or give your daughter less than she deserved.

"I would pay rent," you said and he looked ready to argue but you held up your hand. He smiled, amused and gestured go on. "Just until they can fix the apartment and if we get to be too much tell me. We can tough it out in a hotel. We've dealt with worse," you added and he frowned before nodding.

"Deal." He turned to look at your daughter and smiled. "You hear that bug, you and mommy are moving in." Your daughter giggled and clapped her syrup covered hands.

"Temporarily," you reminded him and he smiled at you.

"Right, let's go grab the stuff you'll need while you're here temporarily." He went grabbed a towel and wiped your daughters hands while she kept laughing and chanting "move in, move in!"

Is it your fault that you didn't know that your circumstances were anything but temporary?

[michverdun]

"God I am way too big for this apartment... Do you think the landlord would let us break the lease early to find a bigger place?"

"There's no way he'd do that, unless you wanna pay the rest of your rent right now." his roomate said from his room.

"Damn..." Jace said. No room in the budget for something like that, not with all he spent on clothes that he tore out of, or weekly trips to the butcher for food. "Do you think he'd make an exception for my... condition?"

"I don't think there's a doctor in the world that could give you a diagnosis for what you've got," His roomate paused for a second before adding on "And no, he wouldn't because he's a money-grubbing asshole."

Jace finished taking the picture with his phone and scrolled through his old pictures, watching him, in the same bathroom in the same pose, progressively get bigger as time went on. the change between this week and last weeks wasn't as large, but that would come... sometime this month. When was that again? He tapped through his phone until he phone his calendar. Next week. the full moon was next week. He had to be ready for that.

The big man walked out of the bathroom and into his roommate's bedroom. His roommate was sitting on his bed, typing away at the laptop situated on his lap. Jace flopped over onto his roommate's legs, letting out a big sigh.

"Okay, don't feel too sorry for yourself," Jace's roommate said. "'Oh no, I've been turned from a skinny twink into a 400 pound musclebeast from a werewolf curse, oh woe is me!'" He added in a sarcastic, whiny tone.

"It's not that, I just--"

Jace stopped for a second, lifting himself up off of his roommate's legs. It didn't bother him that he was growing, but it felt like he had no input on how fast it happened. Whether he went to the gym or not, no matter what his diet was, it didn't matter. Every month, he'd turn into a werewolf against his will, and afterwards he'd be bigger, hairier, stronger. He loved how it made him feel, but there was still a small worry in the back of his mind: would he recognize himself when he stopped growing? Would anyone?

"I thought I'd have better control of it by now."

"It's only been 6 months, which means you've had 6 times to practice." His roommate said, still typing away. "Nobody's good at something on their 7th try. You'll get there. And the lease'll be up in a couple of months anyway, I'm already looking for a new place."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Jace watched as his roommate's neutral expression turned into a smirk "I just gotta filter for 'pet-friendly' now."

Jace let out a groan that turned into a laugh. No matter what came next, he knew he'd be hearing a lot more stupid werewolf jokes in the future, and he didn't mind it one bit.

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warnings/tags: no smut this time, swearing, angst, not really any warnings but prepare yourself y'all A/N: not gonna lie, as I started this I was thinking it was gonna be so good but then i edited it and now I hate it but don't have the energy to fix it ദ്ദി(ó﹏ò｡) I promise the last part is gonna be better than this

index part thirteen | part fifteen

part fourteen word count : 3,531

with how great things were going, you’d begun to regret signing the lease on your new apartment. Sukuna had been… tolerable, and your relationship with Choso was progressing to a comfortability you’d greatly miss. while watching Yuji and Megumi make out on movie nights wasn’t your favorite thing ever, you knew you wouldn’t ever escape from that even if you did move out.

considering you’d signed your lease just yesterday, you figured tonight would be the night to break the news to Choso. of course, you’d already let it slip to Yuji pretty soon after you’d found the right apartment but he’d sworn himself to secrecy – after beginning on his knees for you to stay. you’d thought of the perfect plan: ply Choso with a homecooked meal, wine, and a new lingerie set you’d splurged on to soften the blow. 

you had been worried all day about how he’d take the news – would he be supportive or be distraught? hopefully the former. if Choso had begged as Yuji had, you knew you’d end up staying for him, even if you had to gain some sort of independence. 

so here you were, wrapping up the hefty dinner you’d cooked for your boyfriend with time to spare so you could change and get ready for his arrival. you’d instructed Yuji to take him on some “errands” just so you could get everything set up and surprise him. the dining table, now set with dinnerware and already filled glasses of wine, looked cozy as you lit the candles adorning the top of it. hell, you’d even found a jazz lofi playlist to have in the background. 

as you primped your hair and makeup a little bit, you eyed the lacy black teddy laying on your bedspread. while black wasn’t necessarily Choso’s favorite color, he sure did wear a lot of it so you hoped he liked your choice. you gently slipped it on and adjusted your breasts to make them stand out a little more – of course, as a distraction for Choso. 

throwing on a loose and flowy dress over it to cover up for now, you opened your bedroom door to go wait for Choso and stopped in your tracks.

“put that wine down, it’s not for you!” you shouted as you stomped over to the dining table – Sukuna froze with the glass halfway to his lips as he heard your voice. he was still stunned as you snatched it from his hand before setting it gently back in its place. “you’re not supposed to be here, I thought you had plans?”

“I did, canceled ‘em because I didn’t want to go anymore.” Sukuna shrugged, but his face still showed a hint of confusion. “what’s all this for?”

you fiddled with your fingers as he stared at you – this wouldn’t do. no one was supposed to be home tonight, leaving the house to you and Choso to have alone time. Yuji hadn’t argued when you suggested he stayed at Megumi’s, and you’d thought Sukuna would already be half drunk with his friends by now. 

“you need to find somewhere else to be.” you stated as you crossed your arms, hoping he didn’t ask any more questions. 

“this a date or somethin’?” Sukuna asked as he raised a brow, a smirk playing on his lips. “any special occasion?”

“not a special occasion, just wanted to do something nice for Choso.” you briefly answered before grabbing his shoulders and pushing him backward towards the door. Sukuna didn’t fight with you as he started stepping back, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. “as I said, you need to go. I can’t have you here when he comes back.”

“why? because it’ll be too awkward?” he shot back, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“there’s no reason for it to be awkward.” you replied, crossing your arms as if to emphasize your point.

“but you’d be surrounded by two people in love with you.” Sukuna countered, his words hanging heavy in the air. 

your footsteps stilled, the impact of his statement sinking in. Sukuna’s gaze sharpened at your hesitation, and he leaned in slightly, a softer expression replacing his earlier playfulness. 

“don’t… don’t say things like that.” you stammered, heat rising to your cheeks. what was he talking about? he didn’t love you; you had spent so long convincing yourself of that just to cope. “you can’t possibly mean that.”

Sukuna tilted his head, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. “why not? what if I do?”

your heart raced, and you struggled to find your voice. “because it’s… it’s not possible. you can’t just throw around words like that.”

he stepped closer, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something more serious. “listen… I know what I did. and I’m truly sorry. you deserve a far longer apology than this, but I need you to know that I am sorry. I’ve put in the work, I’ve been going to therapy and figuring shit out – and one of the many things I learned is that I do love you.”

his words hung in the air, and a storm of emotions swirled within you. this was the worst possible time for this. Sukuna should have apologized long ago, not on this particular night when you’re waiting for Choso to come home.

oh shit, Choso. you quickly glance away at the clock – he’s going to walk through the door any second now. 

“Choso will be here soon.” your voice cracked as you tried to reign in your emotions. if Sukuna truly wanted to apologize, he could have picked a better time to do it. “please, if you really feel bad about the past, then respect my wishes and just go.”

“look, I know it’s complicated but-“

“no, it’s not complicated; it’s not fair.” you snapped, harsher than you had intended. Sukuna stepped back, as if you’d physically pushed him, and stared at you in shock. “you should have apologized ages ago, you should have figured your shit out before you hurt me. I mean, physically and mentally hurt me, Sukuna.”

“I know, I know, and I want to give you a better apology but-“ Sukuna started again, only to pause when you raised your hand to stop him. 

the sound of keys in the door made your heart sink to your stomach. Sukuna picked up on it too after you’d stopped him from rambling, and he steeled himself for who was going to walk through the door.

when the door swung open, Choso stepped inside with a bright smile that faltered as he noticed you two. “um, what’s going on?” his smile dropped completely as he scanned the room and noted the romantic setting.

“it’s not what it looks like.” Sukuna told him, crossing his arms over his chest as you sent a glare his way. like that didn’t sound incriminating.

“I was trying to surprise you, but Sukuna was just leaving.” you explained as you gave Sukuna a light shove toward the door. you silently wished he’d drop everything and just leave your conversation behind.

to your surprise, it was Choso who wasn’t ready to let it go. he immediately came to your side with a gentle hand and cupped your cheek. “are you okay?” he asked softly, concern etched across his features.

Sukuna tutted, he rolled his eyes. “why wouldn’t she be?” 

“because we both know you and how you act.” Choso snapped, his protective instinct kicking in.

“I was just apologizing to her for-“

you quickly raised your hands up to stop Sukuna from continuing, heart racing at the thought of him exposing everything right here. “just apologizing for interrupting, right?”

Sukuna gave you a quizzical look, confusion flickering in his eyes before he shook his head. “you can drop the act if you’re doing it for my sake. it’s not like he doesn’t already know what happened.”

what?

you felt your heart sink at Sukuna’s words, panic surging through you. “what do you mean he already knows?” you demanded, shooting a nervous glance at Choso. his expression shifted to one of guilt, eyes wide and mouth agape as he met your gaze. “what does he mean, Choso?”

“wait, he never told you?” Sukuna asked, a low chuckle escaping him. when you shot him an icy glare, he gulped and offered a sympathetic smile. “Choso knows about what happened. he heard you yelling at me in the kitchen one night, and even gave me the death glare when I caught him standing at the top of the steps afterward.”

Choso… he knew? all this time? that argument felt like it had happened ages ago, a memory already blurred in your mind. you turned back to Choso, unable to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. “you… did you really know? for that long and you never thought to say anything?”

“yes.” Choso’s answer was short and direct, but his lips parted as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

“why didn’t you say anything?” you pressed, your voice trembling. 

Choso’s gaze dropped to the floor, a flicker of regret passing over his features. “I didn’t… I didn’t want it to change things between us. you were opening up to me, and I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“opening up intimately?” Sukuna questioned, and you whipped around to face him.

“stay out of this.” you snapped, but Choso was already taking steps forward toward him. 

“you shut your mouth.” Choso growled as he pointed a finger at Sukuna. Sukuna only rolled his eyes in response, but when he glanced at you and took in your distraught state, his expression hardened.

“listen, what happened in the past was a mistake, on my part.” Sukuna started, his voice tense as Choso glared at him and you looked away. “and I’m truly sorry. I’ll spend every day apologizing if I need to – but if you want to be angry about it, take it out on me. don’t do this in front of her.”

Choso chuckled darkly, his finger pressed against Sukuna’s chest now. “like you’re one to act high and mighty. I should have kicked your ass the moment I found out it was you who hurt her like that.”

you were frozen, mentally and physically, as your gaze focused on the floor. this was exactly what you’d wanted to avoid from the beginning. did Yuji know? or the others? had Sukuna and Choso talked about it? there were too many questions swirling in your mind for you to even begin comprehending. 

“and you can still kick my ass if you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love her.”

“no you don’t, you can go to all the therapy you want but it doesn’t change who you are.”

“I’m working on it, give me a fucking break.”

you’d had enough. the night was beyond ruined, your makeup now smeared down your face as the two of them argued as if you weren’t there. this wasn’t healthy, and guilt gnawed at you. you shouldn’t have gotten involved with Sukuna, and you shouldn’t have fallen for Choso… all of this was your fault. 

“I’m moving out.” your soft confession cut through the tension, making both Choso and Sukuna turn to you with wide eyes.

“what?” Sukuna asked, his voice low, but before he could think to move towards you Choso was already at your side

Choso’s expression softened, a stark contrast to the anger he’d had on display. “you don’t have to do that, angel. we can figure it out.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching. you wanted desperately for things to be okay or to start all over – but you couldn’t. you’d ruined things. sure, Sukuna had hurt you and Choso had hidden his knowledge of what happened, but it was you who caused all of it. 

“I signed the lease yesterday. it’s done.” you confessed as Choso’s eyebrows furrowed, sadness washing over his face. “I thought… I thought it was for the best, but now I know it is. I can’t be the reason this house falls apart. if not for your sake, then Yuji’s. he needs his brothers.”

“I’ll go.” Sukuna’s voice broke the tense silence, drawing your gaze away from Choso and towards him. “this is my fault; I should be the one to move out.”

“yeah, maybe you should since-“

“enough.” you bit out to interrupt Choso, who now looked hurt. “enough fighting, enough tiptoeing around it, enough of this.” you gestured between the two of them. “I should have never gotten involved. Yuji is my best friend; I won’t tear his family apart.”

Sukuna fell silent while Choso reached for your hands, enclosing them in his. “if you hadn’t gotten involved, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.” tears shimmered in his eyes as he looked deeply into yours, and your heart felt like it was fracturing like glass.

“I do love you. but… I can’t do this.” 

and at that moment, the last piece of your heart shattered. 

the silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Choso’s grip on your hands tightened, his expression a mix of anguish and disbelief. “please don’t say that.” he whispered, his voice cracking. “we can work through this together. we love each other.”

you shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “love isn’t enough right now. there’s too much pain, too many complications. I can’t be the cause of any more hurt, not to you or to Yuji.”

Sukuna shifted, his expression unreadable. “you think leaving will solve everything? running away won’t make the problems disappear.”

“it’s not about running away.” you replied, your voice trembling. you looked away from Choso to Sukuna, stunned to see his eyes glossy as he stared intensely at you. “I need to step back and let you both figure this out without me in the way.”

Choso’s face fell, and he looked like a lost puppy. “I can’t imagine my life without you.” he said softly. “you mean everything to me.”

your heart ached at his words. “I know, and it kills me to say this. but staying would only hurt everyone in the end.”

with a heavy heart, you stepped back towards the door, creating distance between the three of you. “I need to go. I’m going to go over to Megumi’s for now, and meet up with Yuji.”

as you turned to leave, Choso reached out, desperation in his voice. “wait! just give me a chance to fix this.”

you glanced up at Sukuna, who only gave you a small supportive nod, before looking back to Choso to see the pain etched on his face. “you deserve happiness, Choso. and I hope you find it… with or without me.”

with that, you walked out, your heart in pieces. you breathed in the cold air to steel yourself before starting to the journey to Megumi’s. you knew it was going to be a long night, debriefing your best friend and crying yourself to sleep, but it had to be the for the best. 

right?

you had done something stupid; you told yourself that over and over as you walked down the street. sure, Choso and Sukuna didn’t have a brotherly bond, different parents and whatnot, but because of Yuji, they were brothers. and then you came in. 

first, you thought Sukuna actually liked you, and then that got fucked up. then, you go and fall for Choso, the other brother. and of course, somehow that got fucked up as well. maybe that one wasn’t anyone’s fault, but you couldn’t stick around to see how you’d mess it up further. he deserved better than that. hell, you’d even say Sukuna deserves someone right for him.

and what was it with Sukuna dropping a love bomb? surely, he just didn’t know what love truly was; he didn’t love you. how could he? when he’d hurt you as much as he did, whether he realized it or not. 

but Choso loved you. and you really did love him. had you ever gotten to actually say it? the words “I love you”? did he know how much it was truly breaking your heart to walk away?

you hadn’t realized you were crying silently until you saw Megumi’s face when his front door swung open. soft, sympathetic eyes, the same ones you’d already seen from two others today. it made you sick; you didn’t deserve it.

“I – hic – where’s Yuji?” you hiccupped as you asked, and immediately Megumi called out behind him before letting you step into the apartment.

Yuji came almost running around the corner, phone pressed to his ear, and he looked almost relieved to see you. almost. “yeah, she just got here safely. of course I’m gonna take care of her. okay, I’m hanging up now.” Yuji ended whatever call he had been on before rushing over and enveloping you in a hug. “what trouble have you gotten yourself into now?”

“he loved me.” you whispered through sniffles, clutching the fabric of Yuji’s sweatshirt between your fists. Yuji shushed you as he motioned towards Megumi to come and join the hug as well. while Megumi wasn’t big on physical contact – with anyone but Yuji – he didn’t hesitate and you soon were wrapped up by both of them.

“should I call Nobara?” Megumi questioned in a hushed voice. you shook your head in answer, even though you knew he was talking to Yuji.

“don’t wanna bother her.” you told him, but Yuji sighed. you knew what he was going to say next, so you continued ahead of him. “fine, call her. I know you’re going to do it anyway.”

after Megumi disappeared to make the call, Yuji pulled away to hold onto your shoulders and look at you. “what happened? talk to me.” he urged as you wiped away the tears and snot smeared on your face.

“I really fucked up, Yuji.” you cried. “he loved me, and I messed up your family, and I should have never thought I could be happy because look what I did.”

Yuji fiercely shook his head at you, lips set in a firm frown. “you didn’t mess up my family. you do deserve happiness, haven’t I always told you that. besides, Sukuna was wrong to tell you he loved you but he-“

“wait, Sukuna?” you cut him off, brows furrowed in confusion. “how did you know?”

“Sukuna was the one who called me, and told me to make sure you were safe. I thought you would’ve known that?” Yuji raised an eyebrow, as confused as you were now. you were stunned – what exactly did Yuji know? “he told me what he said, and what happened between you and Choso because of it.”

you couldn’t find the words you wanted to say – that you weren’t upset about Sukuna. truthfully, it was the least of your concerns. you had been referring to Choso the entire time. but Sukuna had called Yuji? 

“I think you should sit down before we continue this conversation.” you muttered as you averted your gaze, silently prepping yourself to tell your best friend everything that had happened from the moment you first stepped into his house. 

needless to say, it was a long night as you gave Yuji and Megumi a recap of everything – including what happened with Sukuna. even all the brotherly love in the world couldn't stop the sound of Yuji yelling at Sukuna on the phone in the other room. even Megumi had been clenching and unclenching his fists on the couch next to you as you both listened in on the conversation. 

when Yuji had felt somewhat satisfied, he’d returned to your side, and promptly pulled you into an embrace before murmuring apologies like water rushing from a dam. in the end, you were consoling him, both of you becoming puddles of tears together while Megumi bore witness. 

and at the end of it all, you’d heard the words “it’s not your fault” enough to last you a lifetime. but, no matter how many times Yuji said the words, they never stuck with you. because losing Choso was your fault.

it was all that mattered to you now. the mental image of Choso’s heartbroken expression flashing through your mind all night, even as you tried to fall asleep with tears still in your eyes.

you had to let it go, eventually. if you had just fallen for him first, none of this would have happened – but it did. it had all happened, and the past was still there, sitting in that house and soaked into the walls. and it would follow you, even if you had gone back when your feet wanted to carry you there. 

you’d move forward, try to move on – it was all you could do to try and give Choso better. and maybe, only in your dreams, you’d find each other again eventually. 

that dream was the only reason you fell asleep that night, looking forward to meeting him again as you closed your eyes. 

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Home (Home is wherever I'm with You)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round Two. Day Seven: "Predict the Future." Read on AO3 here.

“Oh yeah,” Buck exclaimed, handing another freshly washed plate to Tommy to dry. Evenings like this one were becoming more and more common. Buck and Tommy would meet up at Tommy’s house or Buck’s loft after their shifts, cook and eat dinner together, do the dishes together, and then settle down on the couch for a movie Tommy wanted to see, or a documentary to fuel Buck’s latest hyperfixation before heading to bed, either for a round of ‘Was I a good boy, Daddy?’ or to just sleep, depending on how tired they were after work. “My lease runs out in three months. Remind me that I have to talk to my landlord about a new one.”

Tommy nodded, putting the now dry plate on top of the stack next to him. “I can remind you, but have you thought about maybe… I don’t know… not renewing it?” His tone was casual, as it usually was, but Buck could tell that he was nervous from the way the blue of his eyes seemed to waver. For all that Tommy knew how to mask his facial expressions, Buck had quickly learned that his eyes had the tendency to betray him as long as you knew what to look for.

Buck let out a small chuckle, reaching for another plate, one of his eyebrows rising in confusion. “Not renewing?” he echoed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what? Move into the station full time?”

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite what I had in mind. I was thinking more… you know, here. At my place.”

An odd sense of quiet spread through the room for a moment, despite the soft clinking of silverware and the gentle hum of the dishwasher running behind them. It wasn’t an out-of-the-blue proposal, not really. In fact, Buck figured, they’d been tiptoeing around it for weeks, maybe months. Their evenings together were less about convenience and more about the deep comfort they’d found in each other’s company, the quiet routines they’d built together. On nights when their shifts kept them apart, Buck deeply missed and outright craved Tommy, and not just in the sexual sense either. He’d realized a while ago that he really didn’t want to be apart from his boyfriend for any extended amount of time.

“You… You want me to move in with you?”

Tommy stopped drying for a second, focusing on folding the towel in his hands to avoid meeting Buck’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. I mean, we’re here all the time anyway, right? You’ve got a drawer, you’ve got space in the closet, half your stuff’s already in the bathroom. It just makes sense. Plus…" He finally looked up, his expression softening. “I like having you around, Evan. It feels… good. Natural.”

Buck didn’t respond immediately. He reached for the next dish, but instead of handing it over, he stared at the water droplets sliding down the ceramic, his mind working through the unspoken implications. He wasn’t scared, exactly. Living with Tommy had an appeal, a strong one, but it also carried weight. The last time he moved in with a partner had been an absolute disaster (and Buck was mature enough to acknowledge that it wasn’t fully or even mostly on Taylor either) and he really, really didn’t want his relationship with Tommy to go down the same path.

He finally spoke, voice steady but thoughtful. “I like being here with you too, Tommy, of course I do, I love you. It’s just… moving in, it’s a big step. You sure we’re ready for that?”

Tommy’s lips pressed together as he kept playing with his towel, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He didn’t want to push, and Buck knew and appreciated that. This wasn’t about trying to goad Buck into doing something he wasn’t ready for; it was about opening a door that, deep down, he already knew they both wanted to walk through.

“I get that it’s a big step,” Tommy finally said, his voice a touch softer, though still carrying that cadance of sincerity that Buck had become so familiar with. “I’m not trying to pressure you or make you feel like we have to do this now. But I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and… honestly, I’m ready if you are.” His eyes met Buck’s, unwavering, calm but warm, and full of love. “No rush, no pressure. Just… think about it.”

Buck let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, running a hand through his damp curls. There was a knot in his chest that he hadn’t quite figured out how to untangle, a mix of excitement, anxiety, and an old, familiar fear of things falling apart when they seemed to be going too well.

“I do love being here,” Buck admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly might somehow jinx what they had. “And you’re right. Half my stuff’s already here. I just…” He paused, words getting caught somewhere between his heart and his throat. “I guess I’m scared, you know? Last time I moved in with someone, I made a whole bunch of mistakes. It was a bad idea, and we rushed into things and it got… messy.”

Tommy nodded, leaning against the counter, his fingers still absently twisting the towel. “I know what happened with Taylor wasn’t easy, Evan. But that was different. You were different. And I’m not her.” He took a step closer, closing the space between them, his hand finding Buck’s in the soapy sink. The warmth of Tommy’s touch grounded him, and for a second, the room felt smaller, quieter. More intimate.

“You’re not,” Buck agreed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of Tommy’s hand. “And I don���t want to compare what we have to that. I just… I want to make sure we’re doing this for the right reasons. Not because it’s convenient or comfortable, but because it’s what we both really want.”

Tommy tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching Buck’s face as if trying to read the thoughts that Buck was too afraid to say out loud. “If you need to think about it, that’s okay. You know I’m not gonna hold it against you, right?”

Buck let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of Tommy’s words settle over him. He knew Tommy meant every word. There was no hidden agenda, no underlying expectation. He was simply being honest about what he wanted, but ready to let it go if Buck didn’t. And Buck knew that should he say no, Tommy would be disappointed, but nothing would change between them. Tommy would know that Buck declining now wasn’t a never, just a not at this point. And that was what made this relationship so different from all the others. It wasn’t built on fleeting passion or some burning need to be wanted. It was steady, patient, and real.

“I know,” Buck said, his voice a little more solid this time. He turned to look at Tommy, really look at him. The man who had somehow woven himself into the fabric of Buck’s everyday life without either of them really noticing it happening. Tommy was everything Buck never thought he needed. Calm where Buck was impulsive, thoughtful where Buck was driven by instinct. It made Buck feel safer than he had in a long time.

Tommy smiled, a soft, understanding curve of his lips. “There’s no rush, baby,” he said again, letting his hand squeeze Buck’s gently before releasing it and taking the next dish. “We can talk about it whenever you’re ready. Or not talk about it. Whatever works.”

*

“So, what’s bugging you?” Bobby asked as he threw Buck’s apron over to him. They’d just gotten back to the station after a minor fender bender (three mild injuries, no deaths) and after sending everyone off to do their chores, he had quickly roped Buck into making dinner with him. Buck should have known it was a set-up.

“Wow, okay,” he said, grabbing an onion to dice for the bolognese recipe Tommy had gotten from his Nonna, a recipe both Bobby and Buck had gotten obsessed with mastering. “Not even gonna try to butter me up first, huh?”

Bobby chuckled as he started chopping the garlic, his hands moving with the kind of ease that came from years of cooking for the station. “We both know I’m not great at subtlety,” he said, glancing up at Buck with a pointed look. “Besides, I can tell something’s been on your mind. Figured I’d cut to the chase.”

Buck sighed, shaking his head slightly as he focused on the onion in front of him. The sharp smell of it hit him as soon as he sliced into it, and the familiar sting of onion-tears started piecing his eyes. He really should’ve known Bobby would catch on. If not him, who?

“I don’t know, Cap,” Buck said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s kinda dumb, really. I’ve just been... thinking. A lot.”

Bobby didn’t respond right away, just kept working at the garlic, letting Buck find his way to whatever he needed to say. Buck appreciated it. He hated being pushed to answer, and it always made him feel like he had to justify himself for feeling things. Bobby leaving him air to breathe and sort his thoughts, even if he was a little embarrassed that Bobby could read him so readily.

Buck did appreciate it. But it did also make him squirm.

“You know you’re allowed to think about things,” Bobby said after a moment, keeping his tone light. “But sometimes you get stuck in your head, Buck. And I’m not sure that’s where you want to be right now.”

Buck dropped the knife on the cutting board with a sigh, the rhythmic chop-chop of onions halting as he wiped his hands on his apron. “It’s not that,” he muttered, staring down at the half-diced onion, almost willing it to give him answers.

“So what is it?”

Buck looked up, meeting Bobby’s eyes for the first time since the conversation had started. He could feel the weight of Bobby’s concern, genuine and steady, like the man was always a step ahead, trying to make sure everyone around him was okay.

He swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “Tommy asked me to move in with him, and I’m scared.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, pausing his garlic chopping for a second before setting the knife down. “Scared?” His tone was gentle, but Buck could sense the surprise there. “Of moving in with Tommy, or… something else?”

Buck let out a long breath, the air thick with the smell of onions and garlic now, the comforting scents of a familiar meal that should have helped ease his tension but only seemed to magnify the knot twisting in his stomach. He looked down at the onion, pushing it around the board with the edge of his knife. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but it was like they didn’t want to come out. Talking about feelings was never easy for him, especially not the deep, vulnerable ones. But this… this was Bobby. The man who had been there through the worst and somehow still saw him, still believed in him.

“I don’t know,” Buck finally said, the words coming out in a rush, like if he didn’t say them now, they’d never come. “I’m not really scared of moving in, I’m scared of messing it all up like I did with Taylor.”

Bobby gave a small nod and a hum, his expression one of calm realization. He turned and resumed chopping the garlic, the steady sound of the knife hitting the cutting board filling the silence between them. Buck appreciated the way Bobby let the quiet hang, giving him the space to work through his tangled thoughts.

“I know I shouldn’t compare the two,” Buck said, frustration creeping into his voice. He resumed dicing the onion, his movements a little too quick, the sharp knife clattering against the board. “Tommy’s not Taylor and I’m not the same Buck that I was back then, but it’s like I can’t help it. Every time I think about taking the next step with him, my mind goes back to everything I did wrong with Taylor. How I thought I could make it work, despite everything, and then… well, you know how that went.”

Bobby set down his knife again, wiping his hands on a towel as he turned to fully face Buck. His gaze was steady, not judgmental, just patient. “Buck, you can’t beat yourself up over past mistakes forever. You’ve learned from them. That’s what matters.”

Buck frowned, his hands stilling for a moment as he considered Bobby’s words. “Yeah, but what if I haven’t learned enough? What if I mess this up too? Tommy… he’s important to me. Like, really important. I think he could be it, you know? And the last thing I want to do is hurt him or make things awkward between us.”

Bobby gave a small nod, leaning back against the counter as he crossed his arms. “I get that, Buck. Believe me, I do. But relationships aren’t about never making mistakes. They’re about being willing to learn and grow together. From what I’ve seen, you and Tommy are already doing that.”

Buck stared at the sloppy onion dices in front of him, the smell still sharp, mixing with the garlic Bobby had finished. “What if I can’t handle the pressure? I mean, living together is a big deal. I’m just not sure I’m ready.”

Bobby smiled faintly, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he watched Buck. “Do you want to be ready, though?”

Buck blinked. The question caught him off guard. It wasn’t something he had considered, at least not in those terms. Did he want to be ready? Of course he did, didn’t he? But then again, that was part of the problem. He wanted to be perfect, to have it all figured out before he took the leap. The thought of messing up, of failing, of somehow destroying what he and Tommy had, gnawed at him.

“I do,” Buck sighed, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “I just don’t want to screw this up, Bobby. I’ve done that too many times already. What if I’m just not meant for this? What if...”

Bobby held up a hand, stopping him gently but firmly. “Buck, stop.” He shook his head slightly, his tone soft but unwavering. “You’re not broken. You’ve been through a lot, and yeah, you’ve made mistakes. We all have. But that doesn’t mean you’re destined to keep repeating them.”

Buck felt a lump form in his throat. He hated how accurate Bobby’s assessment of him was. How often had he thought like that about himself? That he was somehow defective, doomed to fail at every relationship he tried to make work? It was like a heavy weight tied around his neck, one that seemed to make it harder and harder to keep his head up.

Bobby’s eyes softened as he kept speaking, his voice filled with that steady, reassuring calm Buck had come to rely on. “You’re allowed to be scared, Buck. It means this matters to you. But don’t let that fear keep you from something good. You and Tommy… you’ve got something worth fighting for. And from what I’ve seen, you’re both willing to put in the work.”

Buck swallowed, his eyes burning a little, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the onion or the sudden rush of emotions coursing through his body. He wiped his hands on his apron again, more out of habit than necessity. “I guess I’m just scared I’ll let him down,” he admitted quietly. Bobby had done it once again. He had peeled back every single one of Buck’s worries and doubts and had nailed exactly what the source of his issues was. “He deserves someone who’s... not a mess.”

Bobby shook his head, stepping closer and resting a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Buck, you’re not a mess. You’re human. And Tommy knows that. You two are building something together, and that’s not something that happens overnight. It takes time, effort, and yeah, sometimes it takes stumbling a little along the way. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of it.”

Buck looked up at Bobby, his throat tight, the knot in his stomach loosening just a little as he heard the words. He knew Bobby meant them. He could see it in his eyes, could hear it in his voice.

“Do you think I can do this?” Buck asked, his voice almost a whisper now.

Bobby’s smile was small but full of warmth. “I think you already are. You’re asking the right questions, thinking about it the way you should. You care enough to want to get it right. That’s what matters.”

Buck nodded slowly, feeling a little of the tension start to melt away. Bobby’s words had a way of doing that, of making things seem less impossible, less overwhelming. Maybe he didn’t have it all figured out yet, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe just wanting to do better, wanting to be there for Tommy, was enough for now.

“Thanks, Cap,” Buck said, his voice steadier now. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”

Bobby gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to the cutting board, picking up his knife and getting back to the garlic. “Anytime, Buck. And hey, when you move in with Tommy, don’t forget to keep practicing this bolognese. I’m counting on you to help me perfect it.”

Buck laughed, a real, genuine laugh that he hadn’t realized he needed. He picked up his knife again, the rhythm of chopping the onion coming more easily now, less frantic. “Deal. But only if you let me make the garlic bread.”

“Done,” Bobby said with a grin. “Now, let’s finish this before everyone starts complaining about being hungry.”

*

“This is the last one,” Tommy called, carrying a box down the stairs to Buck’s former bedroom. Buck, waiting at the base with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and his suitcase by his side. “You had a lot less stuff than I expected, baby.”

Buck smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, it’s… I never really needed much, you know?”

It was true. Buck had, for all intents and purposes, been kind of a minimalist with the loft. He lived at the station half the time anyway, so he had never really tried to accessorize or anything. A few pictures of himself and his family, from Maddie and Bobby to Christopher and Jee-Yun were about the only things that he figured mattered. He loved his family, and being surrounded by them, even if it was only through photographs, always made him feel better.

“You okay?” Tommy asked, putting the box to the ground. And that… was a loaded question. Yes, Buck was okay, technically. He wanted this. He wanted to move in with Tommy, was okay with letting the loft go.

But this had still been his home for the last six years of his life. It was still the end of an era.

“Just… feeling a little nostalgic is all.”

Tommy nodded, an understanding smile making its way to his face. “Makes sense,” he said quietly, running his hand through his messy curls as he leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been through a lot in this place.”

Buck sighed, his eyes drifting around the room, taking in the bare walls, the empty bookshelves, the absence of the things that had once made this place feel like his. There was a time when this loft had been a refuge, a place to heal after he had hit rock bottom more than once. He’d been here after the ladder truck had crushed his leg, after the tsunami, after the lightning strike. His relationships with Ali and Taylor and Natalia had ended here. He had spent weeks in here all alone when he had filed the lawsuit that had almost destroyed his relationships with the people that mattered most to him.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice soft. “A lot happened here.”

And yet, it had also been a sanctuary, a place of endless laughter, and some of the best parts of his life. Getting this place had made him feel like an adult for the first time in his life. He had felt independent in a way not even traveling across the country on his own had made him feel. He and Eddie had made up after the lawsuit in here, he and Christopher had spent countless hours pummeling each other in fighting games, he’d first seen Jee-Yun crawl in here when she had made her way from the door to the couch. He had even delivered his Conner and Kameron’s child in here.

Tommy and him had shared their first kiss here.

Tommy watched him carefully, his eyes twinkling with fondness. “You don’t have to let it all go, you know,” he said, voice gentle. “You can take the memories with you.”

Buck smiled at that, the kind of smile that cracked through the melancholy even though it still didn’t quite fill out his face. “I know. It’s just… this place has seen every part of me, you know? The mess, the mistakes, the times I got back up again. It’s hard to leave that behind.”

“I get it,” Tommy murmured, stepping closer, his hand brushing lightly against Buck’s arm. “And it’s normal. Leaving your old home for a new one is always hard.”

Buck’s gaze softened as he looked at Tommy, grateful for the way he understood, the way he just… got it. That was one of the things that had made Buck fall for him in the first place. Tommy knew how to be present, how to listen without forcing an answer or solution.

“Moving in with you,” Buck said, looking down at the duffel bag and then back at the empty space around him, “it feels right. I just didn’t expect it to feel this… complicated too.”

Tommy chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss Buck’s temple, his arm moving around Buck’s shoulders. “Change always is. Even the good ones. But look, we don’t have to rush anything. If you need more time, I—”

“No,” Buck interrupted, though his tone was gentle. “I’m ready. I really am. I want this—us.” He turned to pull Tommy into a slow, soft kiss, resting his forehead against Tommy’s. “I think I just need a second to say goodbye to this place, you know?”

Tommy squeezed his hand, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Take all the time you need.”

Buck turned back toward the loft, his heart heavy but steady, while Tommy went to grab the box and stand in the doorway. Buck walked slowly around the room, letting his fingers graze the walls, each touch bringing back fragments of the life he’d lived here. The first time he’d stood in the kitchen, fresh from a shift, feeling like he was finally becoming the man he wanted to be. The nights he’d stayed awake, trying not to let his loneliness get to him, wondering if he’d ever be enough for anyone. The day Maddie had come home after getting treated for her PPD. The moment Eddie had told him that Chris thought of him as a hero, a title Buck never felt like he deserved but wore like armor anyway.

He stepped out onto the balcony, the Los Angeles skyline glowing with the soft hues of the setting sun. The view had always been one of his favorite parts of this place. It reminded him that, no matter how chaotic life got, the world kept turning, kept moving. And so did he.

With a deep breath, Buck finally allowed t’he tears that had built behind his lids to flow free, feeling the weight of six years lift from his shoulders. This place had been his sanctuary, his shelter. But now, he realized, it had also been his cocoon. It had kept him safe while he grew, while he healed. But he wasn’t the same man who had first walked through that door all those years ago. He was ready to spread his wings and step into something new.

Something with Tommy.

He stepped back in, his heart full but at peace, and caught Tommy’s eye. “I think I’m good now,” he said softly, smiling—a real, genuine smile this time.

Tommy grinned, his eyes twinkling with that infectious warmth that had always made Buck feel grounded. “Good. Because I was starting to think I’d have to carry all your boxes back up.”

Buck laughed, the sound light and free, cutting through the bittersweet air. “You’re hilarious. But no, I won’t strain your back like that, old man.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is!” Tommy shot back, his expression playful as Buck picked up his suitcase and duffel bag. “Come on, let’s get out of here before you change your mind.”

Tommy grabbed the last box, and together, they headed for the door. Just before stepping through, Buck paused one last time, looking back over his shoulder at the loft. He let the memories settle in his mind, like pictures into a photo album.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, not to the loft itself, but to the man he used to be inside it. Then, he turned to join Tommy in the hallway. “Let’s go home.”

[kdogreads]

Imagine moving in with Carmy

You didn’t really mean for it to happen.

Carmy lived closer to work and most of your friends’ places, so you started staying there if you worked a late night or got too drunk on a Saturday night and didn’t want to Uber all the way home.

You’d call him after the bar closed and nearly give Carm a heart attack:

Baby? Are you alright? What happened, where are you?

Carmyyy, can you pretty pleaaaase come pick me up?

Don’t want to ride all the way home?

No, Carm, it’s so farrrrrrr

S’okay, baby. I’ll be there in 5

You start leaving clothes and shoes there

Just in case you had an early meeting. Or needed something to wear when you two went hiking after work. It could snow in May in Chicago — what if you needed your boots and coat to shovel out your car? All valid points Carmy made to persuade you to leave some stuff at his place.

Of course, Carmy got you your own toothbrush not too long after you started staying over. He made you mean dinners, but neither of you wanted to hang out all night long with onion or garlic breath.

He slowly starts accruing a stash of everything you may need: tampons, ibuprofen, makeup wipes, socks (the no-shows you like), even that sugar-free dairy-free coffee creamer Carmy thought you paid way too much for.

You change your delivery address to his

On everything from Amazon to your monthly makeup subscription, it just makes more sense for it to go to Carm’s. Otherwise it’ll just sit at your apartment’s office for days.

Your mail starts coming there, too, since you put his address down whenever you sign up for anything new.

It doesn’t come up until your lease is almost up

Carm’ll hit you with those sad, puppy dog eyes, sweetly questioning you why you bother to pay for a whole apartment you’re hardly at.

Why don’t you, uh, just stay, stay here?

Are you asking me to move in with you, Bear?

Yeah, yeah I guess I am. Move in with me.

Moving day is pretty simple

Seeing as most of the stuff you need is already at Carmen’s place. Your place.

Marcus, Ebra and Richie all come to help, insisting you didn’t need to hire movers with all that man-power around.

You decide to just sell all your big furniture on Facebook marketplace, aside from a funky chair you couldn’t part with and all of your eclectic art collection.

Carmy gives you free reign to redecorate however you want. He doesn’t have much on the walls to begin with, so you meticulously place every piece of art in its perfect place. Carm doesn’t understand all of it, but he loves it. It makes his empty apartment come to life. It feels like a home for the first time in a long time.

Carmy starts calling it “our place” right away

You still stumble here and there:

I left my jacket at Carmy’s, er, at home this morning.

But Carmy would shout it from the rooftops if he could. He’s so proud to be building a home, a life, with you.

Cousin! Can you stop by our place tonight and help us carry that god-awful futon out to the curb?

The two of you are more comfortable than you’ve ever been before

And you can’t wait to spend every night and every morning with Carmen in your home, the one you’re creating together.

[ugh-yoongi]

Hi. Can I request a drabble with Jungkook where they’re in a secret relationship and they think their friends are not aware of it but they’re actually really bad at hiding it. Thank you!

decided to combine these two. thank you both for the requests!

this one ran away from me but was really fun, so we're going to ignore the wordcount. hope you both enjoy! <3

obviously

pairing: jungkook x f. reader genre: secret relationship au, roommate au; crack, fluff warnings: two idiots engaging in idiot behavior, swearing, yoongi is tortured by reader's use of emojis, drinking/alcohol, one reference to jungkook wearing women's underwear but it isn't a thing, unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 3.7k

In retrospect, getting married at nineteen wasn’t your brightest idea.

Not your worst, either, because at least you’d chosen well.

There are undoubtedly far worse men to have as your ex-husband than Kim Namjoon, who had also gotten caught up in all those romantic cliches about young love; had also been inflicted with whatever illness made you believe getting married so young was smart and cool; had also woken up one day and thought what the fuck are we doing and asked if you wanted to call it quits.

You did.

And even though you loved Namjoon, over time it turned into that platonic life partner kind of love and not that all-encompassing, love of your life, eternal kind of love. So, Namjoon offered to pay for the divorce with his grad school stipend and took his name off the lease so you could find a new roommate and insisted on meeting up every other week for takeout and cheap alcohol because he had a whole thing about not wanting it to be weird.

Now, here you sit, years removed from the most affectionate and anticlimactic divorce of all time, and you wonder what could be more weird than your ex-husband making you a Tinder profile.

“I know what you like,” he insists, cheeks ruddy from the wine. Namjoon talks endlessly on a good day, but he’s nearly impenetrable when he’s got some merlot in him. “No one’s more qualified to do this than me.” You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Except you, of course,” he hurriedly adds.

“Have you ever stopped to think—”

Namjoon heaves an exaggerated groan, hand to his forehead as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “You have no idea.”

You roll your eyes. “Have you ever stopped to think,” you repeat, “that there might be a reason I don’t have a Tinder? Or any dating profile, for that matter?”

“Yeah, you’re obviously still in love with me,” he jokes, laughing wildly at the absurdity of it; elbows you in the side as he wiggles his eyebrows. What could be weirder than your ex-husband treating you like one of his bros? “But alas, I’ve moved on, and so the time has come for you to also—”

“Either shut up or drink more,” you interject, filling his glass nearly to the brim. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this.”

Namjoon, seemingly out of arguments, simply hums in acknowledgment. Downs half the wine you’d just poured him, because out of the two options you’d presented him with, it’s the more realistic choice. Asks, “What’s your preferred age range?” before snorting another laugh and setting it from 18 to 50 for his own amusement.

“You know, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Why not?” he retorts, and there’s no judgment there, just genuine curiosity. You know he’s just having a laugh, would delete it and never mention it again if you asked him to, but the thing is—

The front door opens, and there stands your roommate, arms full of bags from Daiso. “Hey, ba—”

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks when he sees your ex-husband. Coughs to cover the pet name that nearly tumbled out of his mouth and lifts his hand in a wave. Namjoon watches the way the weight of the bags causes the muscles in Jungkook’s forearm to flex and shoots you a look. Maybe he does know what you like, after all.

“Hi, Namjoon-hyung,” Jungkook says, polite but still awkward, even after all these years. Can’t seem to shake it, no matter how hard he tries. “What are you two up to?”

Namjoon is none the wiser, used to the hushed awe Jungkook always adopts when he addresses him. Polite and endlessly kind because his mother raised him to never be anything less, but only ever jittery around Namjoon. Doesn’t act like this around any of your other friends; takes Seokjin’s teasing in stride and dishes it right back, but never Namjoon. Would probably rather die.

So Namjoon just waves back, says, “Hi, Jungkook-ah,” before he returns his attention to his phone. Doesn’t look up when you abandon him on the couch to help unpack the bags. Says, “I’m signing her up for Tinder so she can finally get laid,” and also doesn’t look up when Jungkook chokes on an inhale and one of the bags splits in half.

Before he moved in with you, Jungkook lived with Hoseok.

It’d gone great, all things considered. Jungkook couldn’t have asked for a better first roommate, fresh out of high school and his family home and hundreds of kilometers from the salty air of Busan. He’d nearly been sick with anxiety, all green around the edges, and Hoseok had pulled him into a hug and calmed his fraying nerves. Helped him with his homework and taught him how to cook and pecked at his heels like a mother hen when his room got too messy.

Just like he’s doing now.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, not at all able to hide the surprise in his voice when he pulls open the door and finds Hoseok on the other side. “What are you doing here?”

Hoseok tuts. “I told you I was coming by this weekend to clean. I haven’t been here in weeks—”

“I know how to clean,” Jungkook argues, face growing warm from misplaced embarrassment, that Hoseok still thinks he’s a dumb kid who doesn’t know any better. “I said you didn’t have to come.”

His hyung’s face softens. “I know you know how to clean, Jungkookie, I’m just… I still feel responsible for you. You’re the first child I raised and released into the world.”

Jungkook sighs. Knows this is a losing argument. Opens the door wide enough to accommodate Hoseok and his bags of cleaning supplies, and doesn’t say a word as he follows Hoseok around the apartment even though he wants to say, I told you so. The entire place is spotless. There’s nothing to clean. No dust on the floor. Sparkling kitchen countertops. Laundry freshly-washed and hung on the drying rack by the window, warm in the midday sun. No toothpaste in the bathroom sink; no hard water stains on the shower glass.

All that’s left is Jungkook’s bedroom. That, too, is spotless, and Hoseok has never had a poker face and certainly can’t muster one now. “Why is it so clean in here?” he asks, taking in the bare floor, void of dirty clothes and whatever hobby equipment Jungkook had taken up that week; the pristinely-made bed with its hospital corners and fluffed pillows; the end tables that are suspiciously void of dust.

“Because I know how to clean,” Jungkook tartly replies, rolling his eyes. “I told you, there’s—”

“Are you even living in here?” Hoseok continues, either oblivious to or pointedly ignoring the way Jungkook starts to panic. “Because it doesn’t smell weird, either, and we all know that wasn’t the case before.”

“I have an air freshener.”

“Uh-huh.”

Hoseok continues his search. Actually praises Jungkook on the way he’d organized his clothes, the fact that everything in his drawers is folded and not shoved in haphazardly, that the few nice pieces he owns are hung in the closet. Kneels on the floor to check under the bed: empty, except for the XBox controller Taehyung had left behind the last time he came over to binge Valorant.

And Jungkook should’ve known—should’ve anticipated this—because it’s his Hobi-hyung and if there’s anything his Hobi-hyung is neurotic about it’s cleanliness and he’s got eyes like a hawk, makes him deadly efficient at spotting dust, so it’s really no surprise when he lets out a shrill a-ha! and pops out from under the bed with a pair of lacy underwear pinched between his fingers, but Jungkook should’ve anticipated it, anyway.

“And what do we have here?”

What Hoseok has here is Jungkook’s favorite pair of your underwear, but he can’t say that, so he just feels the way his face flushes with embarrassment again and wonders if he’d get out of the impending interrogation if he starts crying. “Um. Nothing?”

“Sure doesn’t look like nothing,” Hoseok continues, voice animated and lilting, the teasing smile evident even though Jungkook can’t bring himself to look. “Can’t believe my little Jungkookie is all grown up.”

Jungkook doesn’t feel grown up, he feels mortified. Feels like he wants to sink right through the floor, like he wants to disappear for three to five business years. Feels like an idiot for being so insistent on all this secrecy, because now he can’t tell Hoseok that the lacy underwear he’s inspecting belongs to you and that the two of you have been together for a while, that it’s great, Jungkook thinks this might be It, and all he can do is blurt out the first thing he can think of, which is—

“It’s mine.” Hoseok’s head turns so fast his neck creaks. “I’m, uh. Experimenting.”

Hoseok shrieks. Jungkook shrieks. “What the fuck,” Hoseok shrieks again as he drops the underwear to the floor and kicks it under the bed. “Why wouldn’t you just say that—”

“That’s what you get for going through my stuff!”

Hoseok doesn’t come over to clean again.

On the weeks you don’t see Namjoon, you spend your Fridays having game night at Jimin’s.

It’s always a raucous affair—wouldn’t be possible any other way with the friend group you’ve got, now seamlessly blended with Jungkook’s—and it’s always your responsibility to supply the snacks. You pop into the store after work, leave with your arms full of junk like you looted the place, and the man in front of you in line takes so long you miss the bus and have to wait for the next.

Which leaves you very little time to get ready, so you rush through a shower to rinse off the work grime and grab the first pair of leggings and sweatshirt you see, slip your feet into slides that may or may not be yours, and run down the hall to Jimin’s.

Laughter can be heard from just outside the door—Hobi’s and Jin’s louder than everyone—and it makes you smile. Warmth blooms in your chest, all affection, and it has you feeling terribly fond of this group you’ve cobbled together. Has you smiling wider as you punch in Jimin’s door code and let yourself inside. Has you dropping off the snacks in the kitchen and wanting to hug the first person you find, except one Park Jimin has other plans.

“Why are you wearing Jungkookie’s hoodie?” he says in lieu of a greeting.

You look down. Certainly is Jungkook’s hoodie, mixed in with the clean laundry you hadn’t gotten around to putting away yet, and you’re sure there’s no hiding the way your jaw drops a little. The man in question is across the room, stuck in a conversation about fuck knows what with Taehyung, and he sends you a panicked look that can only be an instruction to lie your ass off. So you huff, say, “What d’you mean? This is mine,” and paint on the most annoyed expression you can conjure.

“It absolutely is not yours,” Jimin retorts.

This time you look annoyed for real. “Ugh, who cares? Since when did you become an expert on our personal belongings?”

When you first met Jimin, you’d been tricked into thinking he was a sweet, innocent angel; the kind of person who would do anything for his loved ones, including not interrogating them over whose clothes they wear. Quickly, you learned this was not the case. Jimin is lovely and kind, but he’s also perceptive as hell and shameless, so he smirks knowingly and answers with, “Since I bought them.”

Which… makes sense, you can admit. You vaguely recall Jungkook’s last birthday and the way he’d gasped and insisted on Jimin returning the hoodie he’d gifted him because it was too expensive and the way Jimin had laughed and waved him off, because Jungkook has always been his favorite and he’s never attempted to hide it. The hoodie you’re wearing now could, theoretically, be that exact gift. It’s definitely soft enough to be made from something expensive.

“Oh,” you reply, changing gears entirely. “Well, you know how it is. Sometimes laundry gets mixed up. I’m sure you and Taehyung have worn each other’s clothes by accident, too.”

Jimin doesn’t buy it, you can tell, but he thankfully drops the issue. Watches you and Jungkook like a hawk for the rest of the night, just waiting to capitalize on any other slip-ups, but you purposely fall into a conversation with Yoongi that’s too boring for any normal human to follow along with, and Jungkook calls dibs on Mario Kart until someone can beat him, so there are no slip-ups to catch.

However, if the one constant of your friend group is that Jungkook is Jimin’s favorite regardless of Taehyung’s pouting, the second is that Jung Hoseok cannot hold his liquor.

He’s four mixed drinks deep, skin flushed and eyes half-lidded with sleep, when he stands on top of Taehyung and Jimin’s coffee table and shouts, for everyone to hear, “Hey, did you guys know Jungkookie started wearing women’s underwear?”

For once, this comes as a complete shock to you, too.

The thing about being in love, Jungkook finds, is that it’s nearly impossible to shut up about it.

He’s trying to be cool. He’s trying to be normal. He feigns delight and care when his coworkers talk about their partners, pretends he’s paying attention and not just waiting for his turn to talk about you. He prints pictures of the two of you off his phone and frames them and displays them at his desk, and all someone has to say is, “That’s a cute picture, Jungkook-ssi—” before all his affection for you erupts out of him like a volcano.

So far he’s been careful. His coworkers are sick of hearing about you, but they’re an outlet for everyone he can’t talk about you with. Like his friends, because he’d decided early on it was better to keep everything a secret for a little bit because he didn’t want things to be weird (and because he’s low-key terrified of Namjoon, because he’s gentle and clumsy but he’s still big) and now he’s regretting it but it feels like it’s gone on too long and he’s in too deep.

Really, it’s no surprise he slips up. Has probably been overdue for one like this for a while.

They’re at the arcade. Taehyung has sunk the last of his disposable income for the week into a claw machine stocked with LINE characters. Wants to win a Sally plushie for Jimin because he says they look alike. It’s cute, the bond they have, platonic soulmates the way you and Namjoon are, and Jungkook is starry-eyed and love-drunk when he heaves a wistful sigh and thinks out loud, “I should win something for her, too.”

The words catch Taehyung so off-guard his hand slips and presses the button to lower the claw. “Press it again,” Jungkook says. “If you double-press the button, it makes the claw stronger. You’ll get it.”

Taehyung is wary, still dazed from Jungkook’s slip-up, but he presses the button again anyway. The claw tightens around Sally’s head and drags her up and out of the pile, drops her into the chute and to Taehyung’s waiting hand. “Oh shit! Jungkookie, you’re a genius. Jimin’s gonna love this.”

“Yeah, sure. Didn’t know you didn’t know that trick or I would’ve told you sooner.”

His hyung nods absentmindedly, distracted with the selfie he’s sending to Jimin with Sally obscuring half his face. “Are you gonna try now?”

Jungkook swallows. “Huh?”

“You said you were gonna win something for someone.”

“No I didn’t,” he lies.

Taehyung’s face drops. Gets all serious when he shoves his phone in his back pocket. “Yes you did. Right before I won this,” he says, large hands wrapped around Sally’s poor neck, clearly strangling her. “You said I should win something for her, too. Who’s ‘her’? Are you seeing someone?”

“I said him, hyung,” he lies again. Is thankful for the garish arcade lights and the way they hide the blush creeping up his neck. “I meant Jimin-hyung.”

“You did not,” Taehyung insists. “You said her, and now you’re trying to gaslight me—”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Feigns exasperation. Swipes his game card and stares his hyung right in the eye as he drops the claw and double-taps, somehow picking up two plushies. Tosses Brown to Taehyung and says, “Tell Jimin his favorite dongsaeng won him that one.”

Tucks Cony safely in his pocket to give to you later, thankful the universe came through for him for once.

You (10:42pm): babe

You (10:42pm): what time do you think you’ll be home?

You (10:43pm): 🍆🍆🍆

Yoongi (11:06pm): What the fuck

You (11:08pm): oh fuck

You (11:08pm): that was NOT meant for you

Yoongi (11:14pm): Fucking obviously

Yoongi (11:14pm): Please do not ever accidentally sext me again

You (11:15pm): gross yoongi

You (11:15pm): that wasn’t a sext

You (11:15pm): i need it for the bokkeum i’m making

Yoongi (11:17pm): At midnight? Fuck off

Yoongi (11:17pm): Trade proposal

Yoongi (11:17pm): You never accidentally sext me again and I won’t tell the rest of our friends you’re secretly dating your roommate

You (11:29pm): it’s not even midnight 🙄

You (11:29pm): but that sounds good to me, thanks!

Hoseok had taught Jungkook how to cook, but not how to bake.

They’d attempted it, once, not long after Jungkook moved to Seoul and was homesick and missing his mom’s yaksik something terrible. Just wanted something that tasted like home, something comforting, and Hoseok had felt so bad for him that he said fuck it, let’s try, what’s the worst that could happen, and the two of them learned very quickly that nearly burning down their kitchen and the rest of their building was, in fact, the worst thing that could happen.

They never tried baking a damn thing after that, individually or together.

Still, there’s a special occasion coming up, so Jungkook asks the only person he trusts to help him.

“You need a cake,” Seokjin intones, swallowing his smile when Jungkook nods and his mop of curls bobbles along. Takes out a notepad to jot down ideas. “What’s the occasion?”

“Um. Just an… occasion.”

Seokjin blinks owlishly. “You just need a cake for an occasion? Do you wanna try again and actually be helpful this time?”

“What does it matter if I���m paying you, hyung?” Jungkook whines. “Aren’t cakes all the same?”

“Not if you want me to decorate it—”

“I don’t.”

“—because what am I supposed to write on it? Happy occasion, person whose name Jungkookie won’t tell me! Do you see how that might not work out for either of us?”

“Again, what does it matter—”

Seokjin looks up from his notepad, brows furrowed. “Are you ordering this for the president? What’s with all the secrecy?”

Jungkook huffs, puts on his Very Serious Face. “I can just take my business elsewhere if you’re going to interrogate me, hyung,” he says, to which Seokjin rolls his eyes, used to Jungkook’s dramatics.

“Be my guest,” he calls his bluff, gesturing to the front door of the bakery. “No one else is going to give you as good a discount as me, though.”

“I bet Junghwan-ssi would,” Jungkook grumbles, low but loud enough for Seokjin to hear, because there isn’t much else Jungkook can say that’d get under his hyung’s skin as much as the mention of his arch nemesis. “I bet I could walk into his bakery right now and explain the whole situation to him and he’d practically give it to me for free, just so it meant you didn’t get my business.”

And it works. Seokjin’s eyes narrow, chest starts heaving. “You wouldn’t,” he accuses, and Jungkook just shrugs, nonplussed, daring Seokjin to find out.

What follows can only be described as a tense standoff: Seokjin behind the counter of his bakery, looking hilariously underdressed for this stalemate in his pink apron, armed only with a pen; Jungkook, looking smug and pleased on the other side, not even knowing what Junghwan’s bakery is called, let alone where it is. The bell above the door chimes and neither breaks eye contact to look, and it’d probably go on like this forever, knowing the two of them, except the person behind Jungkook clears their throat, asks, “Excuse me, are you in line…?” and Seokjin is forced to concede if he wants to stay in business.

The person orders a cake for their daughter’s birthday. Answers each of Seokjin’s questions with certainty and preparedness, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the looks Seokjin shoots at him. See how easy it is to answer simple questions? they say. Why can’t you be like this?

Jungkook can’t be like that because the cake is for your birthday. Which Seokjin knows, because he has all of his friends’ birthdays saved to his phone calendar, but he’s never gone out of his way to get you a cake before so Seokjin will absolutely know something’s up. And as he waits for the person to be done ordering, his heart aches a little, because he wants to tell Seokjin to make you the nicest cake he can. Wants him to pull out all the stops, because it’s your birthday and you deserve it, and he could say all those things if he hadn’t insisted on this stupid secrecy.

Guilt consumes him so entirely he doesn’t notice the person leaving. Doesn’t hear the chime of the bell above the door. Is halfway to spilling the entire story to Seokjin, gets as far as hyung, there’s something I— before Seokjin holds up a hand to stop him.

“What kind of cake would you like, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook deflates. Takes all those transgressions he was about to confess to and shoves them back inside his chest, locks them away. “Whatever you think is best, hyung. Just no nuts.”

And Seokjin smirks knowingly, because there’s only one person he knows with a nut allergy.

[petew21-blog]

Teen Wolf - Alpha needs his pack, Pt. 4

Sheriff Stilinski had to be late at work. Again. Sheriff can't have too much free time. Maybe that's why he chose to do the job years ago.

The events at Beacon Hill recently started to take an unexpected turn. Yeah there was crime before, but now mutilated bodies were turning up in random places. Sheriff's departement prohibited the inhabitants to leave their homes late at night for their safety and got back up colleagues from another town.

His colleague deputy Parrish was along his side for most of the time. Sheriff trusted him. After all, they both went through some seriously weird stuff in this town and could rely on each other.

They were working late at night, staring into a computer, reviewing their case. Trying to find a good lead.

Parrish:"I feel that the person or group who's doing this is trying to confuse us and leasing us elsewhere"

Sheriff;"Yeah, but we won't figure that out until we go into the wrong direction."

Parrish:"Precisely. Now, look these bodies..." they both turned their heads to the side. They would have sworn that the glove next to them had moved. "Did you see it move too?"

Sheriff shrugged it off:'"You know what. It's late. We're tired. We're seeing things. Let's go home and figure it out tommorow. What do you think?"

Parrish "Yes, sir. Good idea"

They left the building. Now standing next to their cars.

Sheriff couldn't help it but notice how much bigger Parrish's body has become. "You're working out again?"

Parrish:"Yeah, thought I could get more into it and maintain that routine. I don't wanna beckme one of those cops who feel tired all the time and have medium/bad bodies"

Sheriff felt a bit offended

Parrish:"Oh not you, sir. You look good. Actually really good for your age"

Sheriff:"Parrish, stop talking"

Parrish mid sentence:"Yes, sir"

Sheriff looked him up and down. It was true unfortunately. He didn't feel as good as he did before. He now felt too tired to do sports. He would love to work out, but it's different when you're young. Man, if only He were as young and as good looking as Parrish again.

Someone screamed in the woods. Both men instincively grabbed their gun and headed toward that direction.

When they arrived to that place, they found another body. But what was strange was the fact that it must have been dead for some time now.

A dark mist filled the place. It was so dark they didn't see each other

Sheriff:"Parrish? Are you here? Parrish can you hear me?"

Parrish:"Sheriff? Sir, where are you? Sir, this is Parrish. Can you here me over the coms, over."

Sheriff:"Yes I can hear you. What is that suppose to be again? Over"

The could feel a force fighting it's way inside of them. The mist entered their bodies.

Their eyes were dark for a second and suddenly normal again. But as if hypnotised, they got up and went back to their homes as if nothing happened. Not speaking to each other. Not doing anything. Just driving back home.

Sheriff woke up first. He was in a bed. How did he get there? And whose bed is this?

He looked around. The bedroom was nice and cosy. But he didn't recognise it. He got up. "Wow. That was way easier then I'm used to"

He looked down and found himself in grey sweatpants. Also, a very ripped body now instead of his own

"What the hell?" a young voice came out.

"Is anybody here? Hello?" he looked around and left to the living room where he found a mirror.

"Parrish, there you are. What happ..."

He stopped. His reflection did the same things as he did. How is that possible?

He tried to wave and so did Parrish

"I must be dreaming" he pinched himself on his new biceps and it hurt like he'll

He slapped his face and it did hurt again.

"Parrish, why am I you? This shouldn't be possible."

He got closer to inspect his face. His different eyes. His teeth. His jawline. His hair. Everything was different

He flexed his biceps. "Nice one, Parrish. That working out is paying off". He patted his abs and wanted to continue to explore a bit, but stopped

"Jesus, Noah. What the hell are you doing? You would invade someone's privacy like that? No, I can't do that. I have to find my body"

A call came to his new phone. It was his number

Sheriff:"Hello?"

Parrish:"Is that you, sir? Ehm ehm. Sorry I'm still getting used to your voice"

Sheriff:"Parrish? Are you at my place?"

Parrish:"Yes, sir. Your bedroom in your house"

Sheriff:"Ok, then wait there. I'm coming. I think this might be the direction to distract us from the case" he turned off the call

As he looked at himself in the mirror he found out that while he was calling with his body, he unknowingly took his left hand and held now his new dick. He thought about it for a sec.

"Ah what the hell. It's not like this will happen ever again. Might as well enjoy it. He'll wait a bit for me"

Sheriff wanted to respect his privacy still so he thought he wouldn't look at first. But you just can't not check out your colleagues dick when you have their body. Can you?

It was really nice. Shorter than his, but thicker. Slightly hairy, but trimmed.

Sheriff:"That's quite a package, son. You are a grower and I love that."

He was now edging on the bed. Wanting that amazing feeling to never stop. His old body isn't that sensitive anymore to touch. But damn. This cock felt nice

He didn't cum yet, when suddenly a woman entered the room:"Need some help with that? Stud"

Sheriff:"Oh, boy"

Maria got close to him and began sucking on his dick. He was really close so he shot the load almost immediately

She laughed. Sheriff:"I'm so sorry, I was really close before and then you just..."

Marie:"Finished you. And didn't have to work for it"

Sheriff smiled nervously remembering that he was suppose to leave already

Maria:"I think you should repay me now" and started throwing her clothes on the floor

Sheriff still on the ned:"Look I told sheriff I would leave. I really gotta go"

Maria:"Sure. And that why you were jerking off by yourself"

She got on top off him. Already naked. And horny.

Maria:"Since you're all dry now, you gotta use some other muscle, you big boy"

She sat on top of his face, not giving him a choice but to start licking. Sheriff was hesitant, but thought to himself:"Ahhh what the hell. Gotta enjoy being young"

Yet another anonymous request to continue our Teen Wolf story 😁

Could you do a story where Sheriff Stilinski swaps bodies with Deputy Parrish? Maybe the sheriff being jealous of the deputy’s muscles and youth.

[mamaestapa]

The Bengals Game

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/N Y/L/N moved to Cincinnati, Ohio for a new start. Move in day arrives and she discovers something terrible...the apartment complex gave her the wrong lease. Instead of living with who she originally was supposed to, she's now living with the hottest quarterback in the NFL, Joe Burrow. Y/N is stuck living in the same apartment with him for a year...which the two are not thrilled about. However, as time goes on, they realize that maybe this wasn't the worst thing that could happen to them. Will Y/N and Joe stay enemies, or will they find themselves falling in love?

•chapter summary: You attended your first Cincinnati Bengals game (that comes with lots fun and a surprise or two…)

•word count: 5.8k

•warnings: language, alcohol, maybe a jealous joe?

Series Masterlist

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September 29, 2022

Macee-Hey girl! I'll pick you up in about an fifteen. Sound good?

You-Yes! I'll see you in a bit :)

Macee liked a message.

You put your phone down on your dresser, rummaging through the bottom drawer where you kept all of your pants. You were looking for your favorite pair of mom jeans that you wear almost every time you go out.

Today, well, tonight, you are going to your first ever Cincinnati Bengals game.

Macee invited you to go to the game with her. You started working at Cincy Styles two days ago. You and Macee have become quite good friends already. It's good to have someone like her around. You went out to lunch with Macee during your lunch break on your first day and that's when she let you know she's engaged to Logan Wilson, linebacker for the Bengals and one of Joe's teammates that you’ve already met. Well, met briefly. You didn't get to have a full conversation with him. You have a feeling that you will someday though since you are friends with Macee and living in the same apartment as one of his best friends.

So since the Bengals have a home game tonight, Macee thought it would be a fun night for the both of you if you attended—especially since you have never been to a game before.

You found the pants you were searching for, pulling them out and placing them on the ground while you got the rest of your outfit ready. Aiming for something cute and comfortable, you decided you were going to wear the vintage Bengals sweatshirt that Macee gave you, along with your light wash mom jeans and white Nike AirMax's.

Once you had your outfit picked out, you headed to the bathroom to go ready.

After getting dressed and freshened up, you were straightening your hair when Joe walked past the bathroom, stopping in his tracks when he saw your outfit. He stepped into the bathroom, curiously eyeing you through the mirror. You took the styling tool away from your hair and looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Hi?"

He pointed at you, “You're wearing a Bengals sweatshirt."

You hummed, pulling more pieces of hair out to straighten, “Oh really? I didn't notice."

Joe rolled his eyes, adjusting the sleeves to his floral suit. You couldn't help but examine his outfit choice for tonight's game against the Miami Dolphins. He wore a black suit that had large white roses all over.

Now, you hate to admit it, but...

Joe looks hot as hell in that suit.

You have to admit, you and Joe may not be too fond of each other, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn't fine as hell.

"You didn't tell me you're going to the game tonight?"

You shrugged, "Didn't think you'd care."

"I'm not that much of a dick, Y/n.”

You unplugged the flat iron and looked at Joe through the mirror. His baby blue eyes shining as he looked back at you. You could feel the slightest hint of a blush rise to your cheeks as he looked at you.

"Well," you said, "I didn't want to boost that ego of yours. Make you think I'm going only to watch you play."

He let out a short laugh, "You really think I'd think you're only going to watch me?"

"Maybe," you shrugged.

"Whatever. Well I gotta go, have fun watching me from the stands tonight. I know those pretty Y/e/c eyes are only going to stay on me, sweets." He teased with a smirk.

You looked up at him with an unamused look, which made him chuckle.

"Good luck." you said, giving him a small smile.

"Thanks. Have fun."

You smiled, "I will."

He walked out of the bathroom, heading over to the door and sliding his shoes on. You heard the jingle of his keys, signaling he was getting ready to leave. You heard the door open, but never close.

"Hey Y/n!" Joe called.

"Yeah?!" you shouted back.

"Every time I throw a touchdown tonight. don't forget to chant Who Dey with the crowd. I have a feeling you'll be doing it a lot."

You didn't even have to see his face, you could hear the cockiness in his tone.

"Oh don't worry, I won't forget!" you remarked.

He was about to leave when you called out to him.

"Oh and Joe," you stepped out of the bathroom and out into the living room so he could see the teasing smirk on my face, "make sure to tell Ja'Marr I'm in the stands."

He rolled his eyes.

"Thanks." you grinned cheekily, walking back into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

About 45 minutes later, Macee pulled up to the complex and texted you to let you know she was outside. You told her to wait outside for you since you still haven't told her that you live with Joe. You know you have to tell her at some point, you’re just not sure when, exactly.

"Hey Y/n.” Macee smiled as you sat down on the passenger seat.

"Hey girl," you grinned as you buckled your seatbelt, "how are you?"

"Great! I'm super excited for this game."

You nodded, "Me too. I've never been to an NFL game before."

She pulled out of the complex and started the drive to Paycor Stadium, which was about a 25 minute drive from yours and Joes apartment. With game day traffic though, it would probably be much longer.

"They're so much fun, especially if you have good seats! Which," she took a hand off the wheel and rummaged through her purse. She pulled out two tickets, "I got for us, well, Logan got for us.”

You took the tickets from her hand, examining them. Your seats were two rows up behind the Bengals sideline. The two of you would have a great view of the game and the players.

"This is awesome," you smiled, putting the tickets back in her purse, "thank you for inviting me."

"Of course, I wouldn't want you to miss out on this. We're going to have a blast."

You nodded in agreement. Even though you’ve never been to a game, you know it's going to be such a fun experience. You couldn't wait to get to the stadium and get this night started.

~time skip brought to you by joe burrow being literally the HOTTEST man to walk this earth~

You and Macee got to your seats, sitting next to two other girls. The brunette was wearing a Burrow jersey and the red head was wearing a sweatshirt that read "I ❤️ Joe Burrow". You couldn't help the small smile that appeared on your face as you heard the girls gush about how excited they were to see Joe in person.

You were about to say something to Macee when the bright stadium dimmed and an orange hue took over, making the full crowd in the stadium look orange. The Bengals cheerleaders made a tunnel by the tunnel the players would run out of, signaling that the player and team introductions would be starting. The orange lights started to switch between orange, black, and white. The Jumbotron started to play the pre-game hype video they play at every home game. The crowd started to cheer as the Bengals players began to line up at the tunnel, getting ready to run onto the field.

"Bengals fans, please welcome head coach Zac Taylor and the Cincinnati Bengals!"

The crowd went wild as the coaches and players ran out of the tunnel and onto the field. Orange fireworks were set off on each end zone, adding to the intensity of the atmosphere. You and Macee cheered right along with the crowd.

You were already loving this and the game hadn't even started yet!

The cheers died down a bit and the announcers voice boomed through Paycor.

"Here are our defensive starters!"

"Oh here we go," Macee said as she gently grabbed onto your bicep.

"At linebacker, from Wyoming, number 55, Logan Wilson!"

The crowd went crazy, cheering and yelling for Logan. Macee was ecstatic when her fiancés name was called.

"YEAH!!!" she hollered, "LOGAN!!!"

"Wooooo!!" you cheered, throwing your hands up in the air. Macee turned to you, smiling widely.

"Isn't this awesome?" she asked.

You nodded, "The atmosphere of this stadium is amazing."

The rest of the defensive starters were introduced, the fans screaming and cheering as each players name was called. The offense had already been on the field, being the group that ran out with Zac Taylor and the other coaches. After all the players names were announced, more fireworks went off on each end zone and the crowd roared with excitement.

Once all the pre-game stuff was over, the game had finally started.

The Bengals were playing the Miami Dolphins, who were currently sitting undefeated at 3-0. It should be a good game.

Miami's offense took the field first, meaning the Bengals offense was on the sideline. You examined the sideline, trying to see if you could find any familiar names or faces.

"There he is!" The brunette next to you squealed, pointing at a player.

The red head practically moaned, "Oh my fuck. He's so much hotter in person."

You looked at who the brunette was pointing at, immediately seeing Joe, who was holding the collar of his white jersey as he laughed with Ja'marr and Tee.

The girl with red hair turned to you, “Isn't he so much hotter in person?"

You looked away from Joe, seeing the girls looking at you expectantly.

"Uh," you hesitated, unsure of what to say, "sure?"

"I'm taking that as a yes." the brunette giggled as she took a swig of her beer.

You turned your attention back to the game. The Dolphins had drove down the field far enough to make a field goal. After the field goal was made, the Bengals offense took the field in their all white uniforms.

"I didn't know they had all white uniforms?"

Macee nodded as she looked at Logan, who was sitting directly in front of us on the bench.

"They've always had the white uniforms, but they're trying out the white helmets for the first time."

"It looks really cool."

Macee nodded, "It does. The guys were really excited to wear these."

You looked out onto the field just in time to see Joe throw a pass to Ja'marr, who was wide open. He ran about ten yards, bringing them to the Dolphins 30 yard line. Joe snapped the ball, dropping back to throw a short pass to Tee Higgins for a gain of four. It was now second down, the Bengals opting to run the ball this time. They were successful, getting the first down and more, as Joe Mixon was just short of the end zone. The clock started and Joe snapped the ball, handing it off to Joe Mixon, who ran it in for a touchdown.

The crowd went wild as the Bengals scored. It soon broke out into the chant Joe was telling you about. It was the first time you had ever heard it, so you didn't join in.

"Who dey, who dey, who dey think gonna beat dem Bengals?"

"Nobody!"

Macee yelled the words, cheering afterwards.

"Did you know it?" She asked after finishing the chant.

You shook your head, "No, that's the first time I've ever heard it," you said, letting out a laugh.

Macee smiled, "Well that's okay, you can join in on the next touchdown."

You nodded, "Definitely."

You knew by the end of this game that you would be a pro at the crowd chant.

The first quarter came to an end fairly quickly. Not much happened in the beginning of the second quarter. Both teams had quickly went three and out with their first possessions of the quarter. However the game picked up in the second half of the quarter. The Dolphins quarterback Tua Tagovailoa suffered a scary concussion with about seven minutes left of the quarter. He was carted off the field and out of the game.

Prayers for Tua.

After Tua was carted off, the Dolphins scored another field goal, making the score 6-7. The Bengals started their drive pretty slow, but with nearly three minutes left Joe threw a 59 yard touchdown pass to Tee Higgins.

"You're joining in on this one Y/n.” Macee said as the two of you watched Evan McPherson kick the extra point. As soon as the kick was good, the crowd started chanting.

You and Macee looked at eachother, wide grins on your faces as you chanted: “Who Dey" along with the rest of the crowd.

You wooed loudly as the offense ran back to the sidelines. As the offense came back and the defense got ready to go out on the field, Logan stood from the bench and grabbed his helmet. He turned around and looked into the stands, quickly finding Macee. He waved at her, which she waved back and blew him a kiss. He smiled widely at her before putting his helmet on and going onto the field. You couldn't help but smile at the two.

They're such a sweet couple.

Macee watched Logan jog onto the field, then she turned to you.

"I could use a drink and a pretzel. What about you?"

You hadn't eaten anything since lunch today, plus a hard seltzer sounds really good.

You chuckled, "Sounds good to me."

She nodded, "Awesome, let's go get one before the lines get too crazy at halftime."

Macee led the way out of the stands and into the area with concessions and bathrooms. You guys found a spot that was selling soft pretzels, hot dogs, and an assortment of alcoholic beverages. Thankfully, the lines weren't too long, but if you had to miss halftime it would be just fine. You got in line behind two guys, one was wearing a Sam Hubbard jersey and the other wearing a Ja'marr Chase jersey. It was nice to see the fans wearing jerseys of different players and not just Joe. Some teams, the fans only wear one players jersey to games. *Cough* Tampa Bay *cough*

You don't need to elaborate, everyone already knows exactly what player you’re referring to.

As you waited in line, a short, brunette woman approached the two of you with a wide smile.

"Hey Macee!"

Macee turned around, smiling as she saw the woman.

"Hey Em!"

The two hugged. Macee pulled away and gushed as she looked at the woman, who you found out is named Em.

"Oh my gosh, you're glowing. Look at your cute bump!"

Em turned to the side, flattening her jersey and holding her belly. She smiled widely, "I know. Baby girl Hubbard is really making an appearance."

Macee smiled, "Yes she is."

Em's smile turned to a look of confusion, "I didn't see you up in the suite?

Macee nodded, "I'm down in the stands today. Logan got tickets for us."

"Us?"

Macee smiled, "Emma, this is Y/n.” she gestured to you, “Y/n just moved to Cincinnati a few weeks ago, so I thought I'd bring her to a game with me."

You smiled, holding out my right hand for Emma to shake, "Hi, I'm Y/n.”

"It's nice to meet you, I'm Emma, Sam Hubbards wife."

Joe is very good friends with Sam, so you’re sure you’ll be seeing the two of them at the apartment someday.

The line started to move, the three of you moving up. Emma spoke up, "You guys are more than welcome to come up to the suite with the other wives and I.”

Macee smiled, "It's okay, I'm enjoying the view from the stands. It's nice to be with the fans, too. Thank you though."

You nodded, "Yeah, thank you very much."

Emma smiled, "Of course. Maybe the next game I'll see you two up there. I know a few guys on the team that could use a girlfriend." She said, winking at you.

"Wouldn't she be so cute with Joe?"

You felt your heart drop at the mention of Joes name.

Emma nodded, "Joe or Evan."

Macee gasped, "Oh, Evan is so sweet. He'd love Y/n.”

"Isn't he? I think they'd look good together."

You smiled, "These guys sound great, but I don't think I'm ready to date anyone yet. I'm still trying to get settled in."

Emma nodded, "Totally understand. When you're ready though, I'd love to introduce you to some of the guys."

"I've actually already met a few." you said with a laugh, but your smile soon fell as you realized what you just said.

Macee furrowed her brows, "When?"

Y/n, you're such a fucking idiot! You mentally cursed yourself.

"Um," You stuttered, trying to think of a lie. You didn't want to tell Macee and Emma about living with Joe yet. You planned on telling Macee somewhere more private, and a Bengals game was not the place to drop a piece of information like that.

"I didn't necessarily meet them," you continued, "but I saw Ja'marr and Tee in downtown Cincinnati, a uh, a few nights ago."

Macee nodded, "Yeah, the guys like to hangout there.  Especially at that brewery on the corner."

"Oooh," Emma mused, "I love that place. Maybe we could do a girls night there sometime? I'd love to get to know you more Y/n, you seem really sweet."

You smiled, "I'd love that. And thank you, you do too."

Emma smiled and put her hands on her bump, "Well ladies, I'd love to chat some more, but little miss wants a pretzel and some salsa."

You and Macee both grimace. You love soft pretzels and salsa, but definitely not together.

Emma laughed at your facial expressions.

"I know, it sounds awful. My pregnancy cravings have been crazy these last few weeks."

"Yeah," you laughed, "I can tell. But whatever makes the baby happy, right?"

She smiled, "Exactly. It was great meeting you Claire, and Macee it's always great to see you."

Macee smiled and gave her a hug goodbye. Emma turned to you and gave you a hug.

"It was nice meeting you Emma. Also, congratulations on the baby."

"Thank you," she smiled, "see you girls later!"

You waved and said goodbye as Emma met up with some other women, who you assumed were wives of other Bengals players.

"She seems sweet." you said, pulling out your claw clip from your purse and putting it into your hair.

Macee nodded, "She is. She's a little quiet sometimes, definitely the opposite of us."

You laughed at her statement. It's true, you and Macee are not the most quiet group of people, but you wouldn't have it any other way. You’ve always been an outgoing and bubbly type of person.

Macee continued, "but she's really sweet."

The concession line moved fairly quickly. You and Macee got your pretzels and drinks and headed back to the stands to catch the second half of the game.

The third quarter was pretty uneventful. Nothing happened until about two minutes left of the quarter when the Dolphins kicker, made a 20 yard field goal. Miami was now up 15-14. You watched as the offense ran onto the field.

Macee glanced at the score board, "Hopefully they score."

"I'm sure they will."

She chuckled, "I think they will, but not before they give us all a heart attack. I call them the cardiac cats for a reason."

The cardiac cats was a perfect nickname for that team.

The offense moved down the field with ease at the start of the fourth quarter. However, they came up short on third down, so Evan McPherson kicked the 19 yard field goal to put some more points on the board. The offense ran back to the sidelines. As the Dolphins began their drive, you surveyed the Bengals sideline. Joe was walking down the sideline, holding the collar of his jersey and looking up into the crowd. The girls next to you started freaking out.

"Oh my god Nat, what if he looks at us?"

"Mads, I think I would die if Joe Burrow even glanced in my direction."

As the girls next to you spoke, Joe locked eyes with you. A smirk started to make its way onto his face as he pulled his gaze off of you. He turned around and continued to walk down the sidelines until he stopped next to Ja'marr.

"Hmmm," Macee hummed, "I wonder who Joey was locking eyes with. Last time I checked he's single."

You couldn't tell her it was you. There's too much to explain and like you’ve mentioned, you can't tell her here.

"Maybe he's got a secret girl." you said, wiggling your eyebrows.

Macee chuckled, "Maybe."

The Dolphins couldn't do much with the ball, punting it back to the Bengals. Joe Mixon had a nice run, gaining about ten yards. However, after his run the guys couldn't get anything going. Joe Mixon was brought down immediately on second down and Joe overthrew Ja'marr on third down. Evan came out onto the field to try and make a 57 yarder—which he nailed, bringing the Bengals lead up 20-15. The rest of the game went by quickly, the Dolphins were struggling on both offense and defense.

There was about three minutes left of the game, the Bengals still had the lead and possession of the ball. The ball was on the Bengals 40 and it was 1st and 10. Joe snapped the ball and dropped back to pass, throwing a 20 yard pass to Tyler Boyd, giving the Bengals another first down. They ran on the next play, trying to eat up the clock. After picking up yardage and a few first downs, it was finally the two minute warning. The ball was now on the Dolphins 45 yard line. Just a few more plays and the Bengals could increase their lead, meaning the Dolphins would need a miracle in order to win the game.

Macee started to tap her foot nervously as she chewed on her thumbnail.

You looked over at her and smiled, "You okay?"

She shook her head, letting out a laugh, "Yeah, just nervous."

"I can tell," you reached out and put your hand on her shoulder, "but I'm confident they'll win."

Both of you turned your attention back to the game. There was two minutes left on the clock. As soon as Joe snapped the ball, the clock started.

1:59

Joe dropped back to pass, looking for an open receiver.

1:58

He threw the ball, lofting it into the air. Tee caught it and took off sprinting.

1:57...1:56...155

You and Macee both held your breath as you watched him run down the field, going past the 15, the 10, the 5, until he was brought down at the 2-yard line. The offense lined up and Joe snapped the ball.

1:54..1:53...

Joe threw the ball and it was caught by Hayden Hurst for a Bengals touchdown!

The crowd broke out into cheering. You and Macee jumped up and down, screaming and cheering right along with them. Evan kicked the extra point, making the score 27-15.

The atmosphere of the stadium was just incredible. You think it's safe to say you picked a good game to attend for your first ever Bengals game. The "Who Dey" chant broke out amongst the stadium, some of the Bengals players even joining in on the chanting.

The rest of the game flew by. The Bengals beat the Dolphins 27-15, giving the Bengals their second win of the season and the Dolphins their first loss.

You and Macee left the stands and went out to the area where the concessions are. It was extremely crowded, full of fans trying to exit the stadium.

"Here," Macee said, grabbing your hand, "follow me."

You followed behind her as she pushed her way through the crowd. You had no idea where you were going, but you figured Macee knew. After a few minutes of pushing through the exiting fans, Macee brought you to an area where a few girls wearing Bengals merch were standing around and talking with one another.

Macee let go of your hand and smiled, "Some of the wives and I wait here after every game. The guys will come through here soon. And who knows," her mouth quirked up in a playful smirk as she gently elbowed your side, "maybe someone will catch your eye."

A few moments later, the players started to walk through the tunnel. Sam and Logan walked out together. Logans face lit up instantly when he saw Macee.

"Hey baby girl!" He exclaimed, holding his arms out for her. She walked up to him and jumped into his arms. He held onto her tightly, the two of them smiling widely.

"I'm so proud of you, babe. You did great!"

He kissed her cheek and set her down on the ground so he could kiss her lips.

He pulled away and pulled her into another hug, "Thank you sweetheart. It's because I had you so close to me this time." He said with a smirk.

Macee chuckled and grabbed his hand, "Come here, I have someone I want you to meet."

She brought him over to where you were standing. Oh no. This could be bad. You thought to yourself.

Macee has no clue, but You’ve already met Logan that night a few weeks ago that Joe had him and Ja'marr over to the apartment after practice.

Logan smiled as he saw you, “Oh, hey Y/n!”

Damnit.

"Hi Logan. How are you?"

Macees eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Wait, you know her?" she turned to you, “you know him?"

Logan nodded, "Yeah, I saw her at Jo-."

You rapidly shook your head no, making Logan's eyes widen.

"Jolene's." he finished.

"Jolene's?" Macee questioned, cocking her head to the side and crossing her arms.

He nodded, "Yup."

"Jolene's the lingerie store?"

You grimaced. This can't get any worse, right?

"Aye Burrow look, it's Y/n!”

It got worse. You closed your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. When you opened them again you saw Ja'marr and Joe had joined Macee, Logan, and yourself. Macee looked back and forth between you and the three guys, a look of both confusion and disbelief on her face.

"I am so confused. You know them?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

You sighed, "It's a long story. A very long story, that I planned on telling you at lunch next week, but I guess I can't do that now."

She nodded, "Yeah, it seems like it. So how do you know them?"

You felt terrible that this is how Macee is going to find out about you and Joe being roommates.

"Babe," Logan spoke up, “remember how I came back home from Joe's apartment a couple weeks ago and told you about his roommate?"

She nodded, "Yeah, you said he has some random girl named Y/n living with him." Her mouth gaped open and her eyes widened as she finished her sentence.

"You're Joes roommate!?" she asked, completely shocked.

Joe nodded, "Yup. She's my roommate."

Macee shocked expression turned to a smile, "Oh my god, Y/n? This is crazy!?"

"Tell me about it." Joe said with a sigh.

"You have to tell me all about how this even happened." She said, eagerly.

You laughed, "Don't worry, I will."

Macee's smile switched to a smirk as she turned to Joe.

"Wait a minute."

Joe raised his eyebrows.

Macee continued, "During the game, when you were walking down the sidelines and gazing up into the crowd, it was Y/n that you were eyeing wasn't it?"

You looked up at Joe, seeing a faint blush make its way onto his cheeks.

"Maybe." Was all he said.

Logan laughed, "Oh he totally has the hots for her."

Joe shook his head and laughed, "Yeah right," he looked down at you as he spoke, "She was looking at me first."

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as Ja'marr and Logan let out a chorus of "oooo's". Macee waved them off, "Oh come on, leave poor Y/n alone."

You smiled, mouthing a thank you.

She smiled, "You're welcome. Now, Logan and I are going to head out. We have a very important win to celebrate."

Logan put his arm around Macee and pulled her into his side. He wiggled his eyes brows as he spoke, "Oh baby, now you've got me all excited."

Macee chuckled, "Good." She let go of Logan and walked over to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Thank you for coming to this game with me tonight, Y/n. I had a blast!"

You squeezed her gently and said, "Thank you for inviting me! It was a lot of fun."

When you pulled away from each other, you gave her an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about all of this sooner. I wanted to tell you during lunch next week, but,"

She shook her head, "Y/n it's okay. Don't be sorry. You can still tell me all the details over lunch."  She said with a wink.

You nodded, flashing her a genuine smile, "Sounds good to me."

She smiled, "Awesome, I'll see you later."

Macee walked back over to Logan and grabbed his hand.

"Bye guys, great job tonight!" She said to Joe and Ja'marr before her and Logan began to walk away. She stopped in her tracks and turned around.

"Do you need a ride Y/n?"

"Oh, I'll ju-."

You were cut off by Joe. "I'll take her home."

She smiled, "Okay. Bye guys." Her and Logan exited the stadium, leaving you with Joe, Ja'marr, and a few other players and their wives.

You were about to say something to Joe when you heard your name being called from a few feet away.

"Y/n!"

You looked around, looking for whoever called your name. It was Emma. She was waving you over to where she was standing with Sam and Evan McPherson. You smiled, excusing yourself from Joe and Ja'marr before joining Emma, Sam, and Evan.

"Sam, this is who I was telling you about.This is Y/n. shes Macee's friend." Emma said, gesturing to you.

He held his hand out for you to shake. You shook it and smiled, "Hi, I'm Y/n.”

"Sam." He said with a nod.

Emma smiled, "And Y/n this," she gestured to the tall brunette standing next to Sam, "is Evan."

Evan smiled as you shook hands. His cheeks were slightly red as he grew flustered from your hands touching.

"Hi Y/n. it's really nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too. You did awesome tonight, by the way."

He blushed, laughing lightly, "Thanks."

You smiled warmly at him. “You're welcome."

"You know, Emma was telling me a little bit about you."

"Yeah?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, "Yeah. I uh, I'd love to get your number, if that's okay?"

You glanced over at Emma. She nodded.

"Sure." You said, a small smile pulling at your lips.

He grinned, "Okay, sweet."

As you exchanged phone numbers, you felt butterflies in your stomach. Evan seemed like a very nice guy and even though you’re not ready for a relationship quite yet, you’d love to get to know him a bit more.

You said goodbye to the three of them and walked back over to Joe and Ja'marr. Joe put his phone back in his pocket with a sigh when he saw you come back.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

You nodded. You both said goodbye to Ja'marr and walked out of the stadium. Thankfully, It wasn't too long of a walk to Joe's car. You opened the passenger door and got in. As soon as you were both buckled, Joe put his hand on your headrest and looked behind him as he backed out of the spot. You couldn’t help but stare at his features and notice the way his defined jaw clenched as he looked out the back window of the car. Once he had backed out, he put the car into drive and pulled out of the stadium

"So, how'd you enjoy your first Bengals game?" He asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

"I loved it."

He glanced at you, “Yeah?"

You nodded, "Yeah. It was a lot of fun, plus, you guys won so that makes it even better."

He chuckled, "Yeah, that always makes the games fun."

You sat in silence for a bit before he spoke up again.

"You know, I think I was right."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "About what?"

"You wouldn't be able to keep your eyes off me." He teased, smirking as he spoke.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, "Oh please, it was just once that I couldn't."

He looked over at you and gave you a look of amusement.

You sighed, "Okay, fine, a couple times."

Joe chuckled at your admission.

"But it's only because the girls next to me wouldn't shut up about you."

"Mhm, blame the fans, Y/n.” He teased.

You just rolled your eyes at him. Other than the faint sound of Kid Cudi playing from the Aux, the rest of the ride back to the apartment was silent. You looked out the window of Joe's car and thought about the game tonight.

You truly had a blast. So much happened in one night. You went to your first NFL game, you made new friends, you told Macee your roommates with the quarterback of the team, and you got the kickers number—all in one night!

You don't know what'll happen within the next few weeks, but one things for certain.

Your crazy journey in Cincinnati is just getting started.

hey loves!!

i apologize that this chapter was very rushed and extremely all over the place lol.

i hope you're all enjoying this story so far! i'm having so much fun writing it, especially now that we're getting into the good parts of the story.

also, how do we feel about a possible romance between you and evan?👀

Spoiler alert: it'll only last a couple chapters max. i need some drama for the plot lol

thank you so much for all your love and support with this story!!<33

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Five | Where it all started…

[ flashback ]

We were both drunk, stumbling into the condo before dropping our stuff on the kitchen island. “Don’t let me drink like that again,” I said to Dom. 

“And what? No thank you for saving you from Randy Orton?”

“He wasn’t interested, Dom. Stop being jealous.” Taking off my heels I twisted around pointing to the zip on my dress for Dom to help.

“The amount of times he touched your ass? He was gonna throw you over his shoulder any second.” Dom slapped my ass making me jump.

Shimmying out of the dress I couldn’t wait to take my bra off but the amount of alcohol I had running through my system felt like a weight of frustration. “An innocent ass grab.”

Dom invaded my space, face so close to mine and his fists balled up. “You’re fucking him? No one comes around here. I don’t hear you. Who’s taking the edge off?”

It took me by surprise entirely. Dom was never angry and seeing him ready to kill if I didn’t give him an answer only made my pussy come alive.

“Hear me? Hear me, what?” 

“You know what.”

“I don’t think I do, Dominik.”

“I don’t hear you touching yourself. I don’t even hear a fucking vibrator.” I felt his hand between us skate across my skin as he squeezed himself through his dress pants. 

“Because you don’t hear me masterbating, I must be fucking Orton?” I stood so close to him it felt dangerous. I knew if he kissed me I would fold, I would fuck him after we both said never again.

“You know what I mean, don’t play stupid.”

“Who’s taking the edge off for you, Dom? I could ask the same questions.” I folded my arms standing there in my underwear and bra so close to Dom it hurt.

“You wanna know who gets me off? My fucking hand. Every fucking night I’m jacking off thinking about how tight your pussy is and if I’ll ever fuck you again. Start talking, mi amore. I’ll gonna fucking destroy them.” His forehead found mine, spitting his words in my face.

My panties were soaked when I unfolded my arms and brought Dom’s hand between my legs. Gasping at his touch I wrapped my arms around his neck, whispering to him. “I have a vibrator, Dom. It’s really quiet and small. Pictures of you normally helps, happy?”

“You fuck some toy when I’m right here?” His fingers sunk into the material of my panties before finding the seam and sneaking inside.

“We can’t, Dom. We shouldn’t.” Shaking my head at the touch of his fingers against my sensitive clit.

“There it is, hermosa. Let me lick you, just a little taste. That’s not any different than your vibrator. Let me suck your clit a little.”

My hands gripped his biceps trying not to collapse. “Then what? What do you want?”

“You don’t have to do anything, mi amore.” His fingers slipped inside me and I gasped.

“If you lick, I want to suck your cock.”

Pushing him down to the couch I undid my bra before getting down on my knees. “It’s the only time I’m gonna let you get on your knees for me.” Sitting back he smiled waiting for my hands to reach into his dress pants. Once I undid them I left them hanging open, almost nervous to do the one thing I hadn’t ever done.

“I’ve only done this once,” I shamefully whispered.

“I’ll walk you through it, hermosa. Just take it out, you don’t have to be gentle.” 

Listening I reached in to find his semi hard member and let it bounce out of his boxer briefs. 

“Put your mouth around my cock baby,” he sucked in air as his eyes never left me. Leaning forward I closed my mouth around him, driving my tight lips down him and letting my tongue flirt with his tip. “Fuck, that’s it.”

I did it over and over, letting my mouth bob against every inch of him. 

Closing the phone I felt my cheeks flare up seeing everything like a fly on the wall. Dom really put up cameras because he thought it was his last chance at remembering. That broke my heart a little.

Spending the holidays at home was a success. Our condo we rented out for the remainder of the lease and talked about buying a home in San Diego where we were from. We both knew living with his parents forever wasn’t plausible. 

After checking out another house we grabbed food on the way back home when my father was outside, getting mail or checking the trash bins. I quickly ignored it but Dom couldn’t. Pulling up along the curb he got out of the car shouting my last name at him.

He didn’t even know his name and he was ready to give him matching bruises.

Mine had nearly healed but that didn’t matter to Dom.

“You fucking piece of shit. You like hitting women? You like abusing your own daughter?” He fisted his shirt, yanking him closer and I shuddered to think of the ramifications. 

“Dom. Let it go.” I shouted but there was no way to stop him.

My dad laughed, “defending her honor now are we? You’ll learn there’s nothing worth fighting for with that one.”

Dom’s elbow cocked up and his fist plowed into his face with ease. My dad fell to the ground and Dom spit in his face. Squatting down next to him he whispered, “Touch her again and I’ll break every fucking bone in your body.”

Taking hand he walked back to the car like nothing had happened. My heart raced and my chest was caving in at a rapid speed. “What did he do to you? I need to know.”

Driving past his parents place he just kept driving. 

“A lot of fists. Sometimes worse.” I said it while looking out the window exclusively. 

“What’s the worst?” He wasn’t going to let it go.

“Cigar burns. Telling his golf buddies they could have my virginity. Calling me slut until I hurt myself. Your dad saved me that night when he told you to invite me over for dinner. He saw all the burns and left over bruises - he knew.” 

“He never touched you?” Dom wasn’t even back to earth. Whatever twisted thoughts were running inside his head kept him hostage.

“Not like that. He would pull my dresses and skirts up for his friends. Pull my shirts down to show them I was growing boobs. He wanted one of them to take me, unburden him.”

Dom was quiet and still until he wasn’t. His palm hit the steering wheel over and over as he shouted. 

“It stopped when your dad told him I wasn’t coming home. He told him to get off his property or he would have him arrested for abuse. I’m okay now, Dom. I’ve been okay for years.” I tried to plead with him without touching him.

“I should have protected you. Me. Not my dad. Me. I didn’t even know.” My hand on his leg I didn’t know what to say other than when we were kids it wasn’t our fight so I did.

“Dom. You’ll protect me now. We were kids. We were more worried about breaking the rules and flirting with each other.”

[wooahaes]

impulse

pairing: non-idol!hoshi x gn!reader

genre: acquaintances to lovers.

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: soonyoung learns he was cheated on. reader recounts being cheated on. some mutual pining between soonyoung and reader. alcohol mentions.

daisy's notes: manifesting 2024 being A Year. not even a good or a bad one. just let it be a year.

Soonyoung was starting to really regret coming to this party.  Not only was he single on New Years Eve, but his ex was there—and she had a new boyfriend. Jihoon had already pulled him aside twice now, saying that if Soonyoung was bothered by it, he'd say the word to Seungcheol. Seungcheol had been friends with her, after all, but he would ask her to leave if he needed to. Both times, Soonyoung turned down the offer. But now he was standing outside, wishing he hadn’t. 

She broke up with him a year ago. And, when approached by Minghao while he was alone, the new boyfriend said they’d been together for a little over a year now. 

It wasn’t hard to do the math, and it was too close to midnight for Soonyoung to say something. He’d tell Seungcheol later, though, and buy Minghao whatever meal or drink or art supplies he wanted for immediately telling Soonyoung. Sure, it stung for Minghao to break the news to him after he pulled him onto the balcony, but it still meant a lot. He didn’t have to tell him at all, or even tonight, and yet he did (and he’d stayed long enough to ask if Soonyoung wanted to talk or leave, that he’d go with him if he did). Soonyoung let out a sigh, the rest of his beer having been dumped into the sink. Sure, getting drunk would probably numb the pain, but his good mood had fully been soured and he didn’t want to drink the feelings away.

“Soonyoung?”

He looked up to where you had stood in the glass doorway, stepping out after a moment, and immediately felt his heart leap into his throat. Oh no. Not you. Seungcheol knew how Soonyoung felt about you ever since he introduced you two a few months ago. Except you had a boyfriend you dumped a week later (Seungcheol had canceled plans with Soonyoung to go comfort you), and Soonyoung never found the right time to try and ask you out. Hell, what if you were still hurting? He shoved that away. You were being nice now, weren’t you? You probably saw him sulking and decided to come check on him…

So he finally spoke up. “Hi.” His voice felt smaller than usual, but that was whatever. “Sorry—I’m not in the mood for a party, and Jihoon’s my ride.” 

You slowed to a stop next to him, leaning against the railing. “That’s okay. I just wanted to come check on you.” 

Soonyoung looked at you, brows drawing together. “Did Minghao…?”

“I, uh, overheard.” You drummed your fingers against the railing’s edge. “I mean—I didn’t know. But I asked Seungcheol, and he pointed out your ex, and I kinda put two and two together…” 

Soonyoung looked away, staring out at the city lights. “Yeah, I… I didn't want to make a big deal out of it.” 

“The countdown’s starting soon,” you said. The door had been left cracked open a little, and the two of you could hear people laughing at something inside. “Just thought I’d let you know.”

He just nodded, arms curling around himself. It was cold, but Soonyoung hadn’t let it bother him too much. He’d grab his jacket and leave with Jihoon after midnight. That had been the plan, after all. 

“It really sucks to get cheated on,” you sighed. “But I kinda wish you found out a different way. It’s a lot easier to hate someone when they tell you face to face, I guess.” 

Soonyoung looked over. “You…?”

With a sigh, you shoved your hands into your jacket’s pockets. “You don’t know him since we met, like, right before I dumped him. But I was dating this guy for a while and everything was going great… and then he told me he’d slept with a few people.”

“A few?!”

A bitter laugh bubbled past your lips. “I dumped him on the spot. Seungcheol ended up coming over while he gathered his shit. He wasn’t on the lease or anything, so he was just getting his stuff to go back to his apartment, but I didn’t really wanna be alone with him, y’know?” With a sigh, you looked at Soonyoung. “I mean… I don’t wish that you found out like that. But I wish you didn’t find out through someone else, y’know? She’s the one who fucked up,” you poked him in the middle of his chest, “not you. The least she could do is fucking own up to it.” 

Soonyoung nodded slowly. “Right… Sorry, by the way. That’s awful.”

You shrugged. “It is what it is. It hurt a lot, but… I think I became okay with it after a while. I’m never gonna forgive him, sure, but I realized that I couldn’t blame myself for it anymore. It’s not my fault he did that.”

“Right,” Soonyoung nodded. “Hey, um… I know it’s not the right time, but—”

“It’s starting!” Seungcheol yelled out, and when Soonyoung looked back, he’d made eye contact with him. A nod. Just so you know. 

People started to countdown inside. Ten…. Nine…

“Soonyoung?”

Eight… Seven…

“Can I kiss you?” He spoke quickly, words blending together.

Six… Five… 

You blinked in surprise. “What?”

Four… Three…

“Can I kiss you—”

Two…

Immediately, you nodded. “Yes.”

At the turn of the year, Soonyoung’s lips smashed down onto yours a little too forcefully. Yet you kissed him back, a hand curling around the back of his head, almost guiding him a bit. Soonyoung could hear the cheers inside of people celebrating the new year, and yet all he could think about was the fact he was kissing you now. You drew back, gazing at him with this longing look in your eyes as you smiled.

“I think… I’m free on Friday.” 

He stared at you, almost about to question it before he understood. “Oh!”

“Can you wait that long for me?” You teased a little. Your hands rested on his hips now, and Soonyoung could feel his heart racing. “I’ll buy dinner.”

He smiled at you, hands still on your cheeks. “I’d like that,” he said softly. “Happy New Year, by the way.”

With a giggle, you pecked his lips. “Happy New Yeah. Let’s make it a good one.” 

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny

[sentientcave]

And They Were Roommates

Part 2!

Sooner than I thought I'd get it done, but I ended up with more time today than I thought. It's moving day! This one goes out to the two people who read this so far (ilu), and also the dream of affordable rent and friendly, walkable neighbourhoods.

Part 1 Here

Fem!SoapxFemReader

~2.6k

Alcohol mention, SFW

MDNI - 18+ Blog even if this is you know, pretty tame at the moment

Your apartment is on the third floor of a walk-up, with a little balcony off the living room, and a decently sized kitchen. The rooms aren’t too small either, and your landlord has never cared about you putting holes in the walls or painting, only that you’re quiet and you have not once been late paying the rent. She lives on the first floor, and you have a sort of pleasant, neighbourly relationship with her. It’s easy enough to like a landlord that doesn’t raise your rent arbitrarily or drag their feet on repairs, but Leslie’s also a handsome, handy butch, and her wife, Amelia, is a wispy artist, and you’ve always been on the cusp of wanting to be properly friendly. You let her know before you head off to work that you have a new roommate moving in today, and that there would be a bit of noise in the afternoon.

“Oh, you found someone? Good. You want them on the lease?” she asks.

“I don’t think she wants to be. She’s just giving me cash so I can pay it. Is that alright?”

Leslie nods. “Sure is, honey. Thanks for letting me know. Oh, and I want to do a check on the radiators before the cold weather hits— Shouldn’t need into your apartment, but the pipes’ll be clanging something awful. It’s supposed to be cold and rainy Monday, so I’ll turn on the heat, and you can text me if your rads don’t warm up.”

“Alright. Thanks Leslie.”

She laughed. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re just saving me paperwork and a trip up the stairs. I’ll be standing by this afternoon if you need the door taken off the hinges to get any furniture through.”

You head off to work, humming to yourself. There’s time to stop for a take out coffee too, something you’d been denying yourself for the last few weeks to conserve money, and the barista gives you an extra shot of espresso, just because she missed seeing you.

God, you would have hated moving away. This neighbourhood has been good to you, and starting over somewhere else would have been hard. You recognize most of the faces around you, and often get a smile or a nod when you pass by, or even a good morning from a few. It feels like being part of a community. You unlock the door to the shop, and you don’t bother locking it behind you while you quickly get things set up.

The bell above the door jingles just as you’re about to go and flip the sign. “You know, you should really keep that locked when you’re not open,” John says. He’s an irregular regular, the sort of customer you see every few days for a couple weeks and then not at all for months at a time. You like him— He’s always polite, and he always takes your recommendations seriously, and comes back to tell you what he thinks. He’s older, but in a non-distinct way where he could be anywhere from 30 to 45. The muttonchops kind of make it hard to tell.

“A customer coming in a minute or two ahead of time is not terribly concerning to me, John. And the shop is open, I just haven’t flipped the sign yet.” You do so, and dust your hands together, like you’ve just accomplished some great feat.

“What if I wasn’t a customer?”

“What, like a robber? I’d give them the money from the till and then ring up the cops so they can stand around and be useless a while.”

His stern expression cracks into a smile, the crows feet around his eyes deepening. “Alright, fair enough.”

“You’re here early. Usually don’t see you until lunch hour. Got a busy day ahead?” You absently straighten a pile of books on the table by the door before you return to your perch behind the counter to sip your coffee.

“Yeah. Helping one of my sergeants move this afternoon. Someplace in the neighbourhood, but you’ll be closed long before we finish.”

You hadn’t realized he was military, but now it seems obvious. He’s got that straight-backed, keen-eyed look to him that could belong to few other professions. “Oh, are you Jamie’s captain?” you ask, connecting the dots. It's too close to be a coincidence.

He raises his eyebrows. “You’re her new flatmate?”

“Yeah! Ha, I guess you’ll get to see how I live. Always weird when a customer crosses the threshold of familiarity.”

“Didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“We don’t— Not yet, anyway. I’ve had an ad out for over a month, she’s the first person who’s responded that I think I could actually live with. You would not believe the number of guys who responded thinking that a picture of their dick counted as a reference.”

“Did Jamie give you references?”

“Yes, her old landlord, her LT and her Captain— Guess that’s you. But I met Ghost last night, and I didn’t really think I needed to call the other numbers after meeting Jamie.” You shrug. “Although looking back on it, I guess getting a vibe check from a giant in a balaclava is maybe not the most legitimate reference I could have received.”

“You ever think you might be too trusting?” John asked, leaning against the counter. He didn’t have a tendency to use his size to intimidate, but he was looming over you now, giving you a stern glare that you’re sure his newer recruits have nightmares about. You’re not intimidated though. You’re too familiar with him by now to be worried. He’s just got this protective, almost fatherly streak to him, and a bit of paranoia that makes more sense now that you know it’s coming from his military background.

“Have you ever thought that you might not be trusting enough?” you ask sweetly. “Not to sound trite, but I’ve found that when you approach things with an open mind and heart, things work out. But maybe I’ve just been lucky.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been eaten alive,” John grumbles, moving away from the counter, shaking his head.

You just shake your head too, picking up your phone so you can text Jamie.

I met your captain!! Well I already knew him but I didn’t know he was your captain

The response comes in almost instantly

UR BOOKSTORE GRIL<

GIRL<

NO FOCKIN WAY<

???

caps got a crush on ye. dirty old man >:( <

Dinny wry kitty ill fight im 4 u<

You hear John’s phone ding. He glances at the screen and laughs, and then looks over at you. “Jamie just told me to square up.”

“Wouldn’t be fair. I bet she fights dirty,” you tell him. “Is that why you call her Soap?”

He laughs again, his broad shoulders shaking. “No, but it might as well be.”

John buys a couple of old westerns and heads out soon after, leaving you to putter around the shop. You get a few customers through, though not many. Fridays are never very busy. Saturday and Sunday are always the busiest days of the week, and the days that the little book shop is open the longest. From what you've gathered, Bruce, the owner, makes most of the money to keep the place going by renting out studio space upstairs. The second floor is a wide open room, and the third floor a maze of little studios. There's a bulletin board behind your counter with all the workshops and events listed. Bruce lives at the other end of the first floor, and you rarely see him. The bookstore was something for his wife, who had gotten bored and moved on to pottery, and then glass blowing, and was currently occupying a studio upstairs and writing a novel. Sometimes she asked you to read chapters of it, and you had to come up with polite ways to tell her that she needed to put a lot more work in that wouldn’t get your ass fired.

Jamie texts you updates on the move, mostly complaints about how she didn’t think she’d need so many boxes, she didn’t think she had that much stuff, as well as a picture of her reclining on a couch while Gaz and Ghost lift it into the air, with the caption RIDES HERE that you receive just as you’re locking up the store.

They gonna carry you the whole way here?

no :( LT said im 2 heavy <

rude fucker <

You should reconsider your no killing in your spare time policy Just this once

ur rite. <

only after ahm dun mvoing tho<

hes useful 2 me yet<

You giggle and stow your phone back in your pocket, picking up your pace so you'd have time to do a quick, last minute clean of the apartment and shut Red Herring in your room so he doesn’t make a run for freedom while the doors are open.

He never listens when you tell him he doesn’t have what it takes to make it out there alone.

You happen to glance out the window when a pickup truck pulls up in front of the building. John and Gaz climb out. It’s a smaller model, and the couch from the picture is strapped sideways across the short-box bed with a pile of boxes stacked neatly underneath. A blue sports car pulls up behind it, and Ghost unfolds himself from the passenger side while Jamie throws her door open and hops out of the driver’s side. You head downstairs to meet them at the front door.

As soon as she sees you, Soap runs over and throws her arms around your waist, picking you up bodily and swinging you around, like she’s a soldier returning from the war and you the long suffering wife awaiting her return back home. You shriek with laughter and hold on tight, worried that she’ll drop you. Not that it’s all that far from the ground. Maybe it’s just kind of nice to be manhandled by a big strong woman.

“Missed ye,” she says in your ear.

“Jamie, we just saw each other yesterday,” you remind her, still laughing. “We just met yesterday.”

“Pff. No matter.” She gives you one more spin before setting you down. “Awlright, let’s put these big strong lads to work, aye? If ye ask nice Gaz’ll prob’ly take off his shirt.”

“I think he should keep it on, actually,” you say dryly.

“Yer right, kitty, don’t want to get distracted while there’s a job to be done. I’ll take my shirt off for ye later, since yer insistin'.” She loops an arm over your shoulders and presses a quick peck to the side of your head before letting go and dashing back over to the vehicles, giving you no chance to say that you most certainly had not been insisting.

No one lets you help, beyond opening doors and helping them navigate corners, but you suspect that you really only would have slowed up the process. They make carrying the couch up the stairs look easy, and the whole job is done in under an hour, despite the three flights of stairs. Soap moves her car to the lot, taking the space Leslie indicates, and you walk up together, Leslie telling her the laundry hours and letting her know that she was welcome to paint her room any colour she liked.

“Hey, John,” Leslie says peering in the open door with a grin. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

John turns a curious shade of pink. “Ah, well. Things have been busy. No time for workshops.”

“Well, you’re welcome back any time. Bring your friends, even.” She claps Soap on the shoulder as she turns to head back downstairs. It strikes you that she only came up to say hello to John, who had done his best to avoid her the whole time they’d been moving boxes. “Nice to meet you, Jamie. You’d best be good for our girl.”

“Ahm always good,” Soap protests. “Ask anyone.”

Leslie glances over at Gaz, Ghost and Price, who shake their heads in unison.

“Awlright, ask anyone except these bastards. They dinnae appreciate me. Even when I was going to order them takeaway and git ‘em a few pints.” She pouts, leaning against the doorway dramatically clutching her chest. “Ahm misunderstood in my own time.”

Leslie chuckles. “Well, she’s a handful. Good luck with that one, honey,” she tells you as she trots back downstairs.

You shuffle Soap into the apartment and close the door so you can release Red Herring from the confines of your bedroom, where he’s been yowling his displeasure for the past hour. She flops over the back of the couch, landing upside down with a sigh, and pulls out her phone, head tipped over the edge of the seat. “What do ye lads want? A Chinese? Or somethin’ else?”

“We also don’t have to stick around.” Gaz looks around at the others. John is looking at your bookshelf with interest, and Ghost is crouched in the hallway, greeting Red Herring. Gaz gives you a sheepish smile. “Or, uh. Maybe we do.”

Soap hauls herself into a more upright position, both hands still holding her phone. Her core strength must be unreal. You briefly wonder if she has actual, honest-to-god abs. “You want ‘em gone, kitty? Hens only?”

It strikes you that whatever this group has going on, it’s more than a little codependent. Better to get used to them now. “It’s alright. I’ll hang out in my room if I run out of social battery. Used to do that when Fern’s friends got to be too much.”

Soap tosses her phone down and flips her legs over the side of the couch and then to the floor. “Oh no, kitty. Dinna start off bein’ accomodatin’ when ye’d rather not be. I can tell ‘em to fuck off. Weal. I can tell Gaz and the captain to fuck off. I have ta drive LT home. No cabbie in his right mind will take the poor fella.”

“Not even the one’s not in their right minds,” Ghost says mournfully. Somehow, he’s coaxed Red up onto his shoulder, and is wearing the fat orange cat like a fur stole. You can hear the cat purring from several feet away. “For some reason, I make people nervous.”

“Couldn’t be the eye black and the fuckin’ skull motif, LT,” Soap says.

“Couldn’t be the size of you either,” Gaz adds.

“Sweetest pup I know,” John agrees. “People just don’t trust these days. Sign of society collapsin’.” He winks at you.

“What’s the word, kitty?” Soap drapes herself over your shoulders and nuzzles against your hair. Her nose runs along the curve of your neck, and it doesn’t seem to bother her even a little that the other three are watching with fascination. They're trying to be subtle about it, and failing miserably. John has a book in his hands, holding it upside down. Gaz is pretending to study a picture on the wall. Ghost is… Well, Ghost isn’t pretending to be subtle. “Want ‘em to go?” Her voice sounds a little breathy against your ear, and you’re not at all sure what to do with the electricity that shoots through your whole body. “Have us some girl time?”

“They did just help you move,” you say slowly. It’s taking a moment for you to collect your thoughts enough to speak. “Would be rude to send them away without a meal, right? Plus Red just got settled into his new nap spot.” You gesture at Ghost, who’s carefully walking over to the chair to sit, holding his shoulders very still so as not to disturb the cat, his eyes still turned your way.

You're not totally sure what Soap thinks is girl time, but you think it might be several shades more intimate than you're used to.

“Aw, yer too good ta my lads, kitty.” Soap kisses the spot right in front of your ear and lets you go. Without her solid body holding you up, you briefly consider melting into a puddle all over the floor, but manage, somehow, through sheer force of will, to keep your knees from buckling.

Leslie was right. You definitely have your hands full.

[thesassypadawan]

A Scary Good Time (Padawan Anakin x RealWorldFemReader)

Summary: A little throwback to the fanfics of old! Short, sweet, and cheesy! Anakin meets you, a mysterious padawan, on his way to the party! Happy Halloween!

Warnings: Contains fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

Notes: Halloween Pumpkins *Headcanon*

A Old Good Time *part 2*

A New Good Time *part 3*

Halloween, that one night a year when the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. The spirits and beings of other realms can easily enter into our world. If one isn't careful enough, they might find themselves crossing paths with a wandering soul.

"Kriff, kriff, kriff!" Anakin curse to himself over and over again. He had lost track of time while practicing lightsaber drills and was now running late.

Tonight was the temple's annual Halloween party, his absolute favorite holiday. And, not wanting to miss a minute more, the padawan decided to take a small shortcut.

He had gone the way dozens of times, knew it as well as the back of his hand. However, as he ran further down the path, Ani began to feel as if he had never traveled it before.

The foliage looked different and was more dense. There had been some statues scattered along the way, but they were nowhere to be found. The same went for the little fountain he should have passed by now, it was like it had just vanished.

Stopping underneath a tree, Anakin took in his surroundings. Things had indeed change and there was also the sense that he wasn't alone.

"You sure make one handsome looking devil, Ani," a tiny voice sounded from above.

His hand immediately flew to the hilt of his saber. How had the force not alerted him of another's presence? Cautiously, he tilted his head upwards and was meet by the sight of...

You sitting on one of the lower branches, legs swinging lazily, a vision dressed in all white.

Sparks flew, Anakin was completely awestruck by you. Finding his voice, he tentatively asked. "Are you an angel?"

An impish smile crossed your face. "Sorry, I'm just a Padawan from Earth. Who also happens to be a little stuck."

Without a second thought, Ani reached for and helped you down. "Earth? Never heard of it before."

Laughing nervously, you fidgeted with his braid. "Oh, you know, it's a planet near wild space. Very old and very tiny. Not many in the galaxy realize it even exists."

A part of him said that he should have pressed for more details. That nothing about this whole conversation was normal. But the longer Anakin stood there, gazing deeply into your eyes, that things became more right. Almost like he had known you his entire life.

"Anyways, are you heading to the party?"

"Um, yeah," he replied, suddenly feeling very flustered. "Would you maybe want to go together? Like as a date or something?"

Standing on your tip-toes, you placed a small kiss on his cheek. "That sounds wonderful."

Blushing profusely, Ani shyly took your hand into his and gave a gentle tug. "Come on then, let's go have ourselves a scary good time."

"So cheesy," you giggled, happily lacing your fingers with his.

______________________________________________________________

The party did indeed prove to be a "scary good time". Filled with lots of tricks and treats.

You dance to nearly every song. Played a few of the corny games. Indulged yourselves in some delicious sweets. Shared a not age-appropriate drink or two. And, of course, stole a kiss when either of you got the chance. You were completely inseparable.

Not wanting the evening to end, it, of course, flew by entirely too fast and soon you had to...

"Do you really have to go back tonight?" Anakin asked sadly, standing beneath the tree where you met. "Can't you at lease stay until the morning?"

"I wish I could," you sighed, hand resting on his cheek. "If I don't leave now, I might not get the chance again for a long time."

He perked up. "That's fine! You can stay with my master and I in the meantime! I'm sure he wou-"

"Ani," you pressed a finger to his lips. "I'm sure Obi-Wan wouldn't mind, but it doesn't change things."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him into a sweet and tender kiss.

"Happy Halloween, my handsome devil," you whispered. "I hope to see you again before next year."

The wind picked up, making the fallen leaves swirl all around both of you. And then suddenly died off, revealing...

Anakin standing alone, a jedi holocron setting in his hands. "Happy Halloween, my beautiful angel," he muttered. "I hope so too."