#reasons to become a divorce lawyer

[siverfanweedo]

sometimes i think about going into law and becoming a divorce lawyer

this post was supposed to be how it would be funny if i did a job like that and just existed online as i currently do

but then i thought how funny it would be if i used my knowledge (not using anyone real life stories) to write divorce fanfics

[jarofstyles]

Stacy’s Mom

Stacy’s mom has got it goin’ on… and Harry’s definitely been noticing for a while.

We haven’t seen a lot of reverse age gap fics and figured it was our time to contribute to the cause. We hope you enjoy!

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Warnings- age gap, unprotected sex, teasing, creampie, soft dom!H

———————

His lip was bitten as he watched her walk across the backyard, sunglasses hiding his gaze. The back of her sundress brushed the softness of her thighs, her hair pulled up in a claw clip as she placed snacks down on the glass table for the group of friends that often frequented the pool at her house. The very house she had won in the divorce just three years ago. 

Stacy’s parents had always been generous when it came to letting their home be the epicenter of their friend groups’ hang out. It didn’t stop when they all came home from uni for the summer, everyone falling back into their routine with the hometown group, or after they’d graduated and some had stayed in town. Drunken food at the diner, pub crawls- legally this time-, the mall, the summer carnival, and movie nights and pool days at Stacy’s house. It was spacious and clean and it had only changed a little bit since the divorce. Her hotshot lawyer father paid a nice big chunk of change in alimony keeping the comfortable lifestyle afloat, one Harry was aiming to get for himself. Hopefully after he opened up a garage or two, he’d be able to grab a house like this. Make someone happy. 

The problem is, the last three summers all he could think about was someone he definitely shouldn’t be. 

It was no secret that she was incredible. Everyone loved Y/N from the start and not just because she was the ‘cool, young mom’ who didn’t make them call her by her last name. She was genuinely kind, loved to make them snacks, would pick up anyone who needed it, let them nurse their hangovers at their house and made them the greasy breakfasts they needed to get through the mornings. The woman was an angel- and she had an exterior to match. 

It seemed like in the last few years though, she had been rediscovering herself and her body. Dressing in ways she hadn’t before, ways he knew Stacy’s father wouldn’t like. Denim shorts and tank tops, sundresses, the like. Things that made Harry’s crush morph from minor to major. Y/N had become the centerfold to his wet dreams, the woman he compared other girls to, the one he closed his eyes and imagined in the shower when he was stroking off. He watched her in her kitchen while she chopped up fruit for them, her back turned and imagined approaching her from behind and placing kisses on her neck, hiking the dress up and offering her all the fun she could want. 

There was something so tempting about the older woman. Harry’d always sort of had that preference, but it had intensified as he grew up. His friends liked to prod at him about being into MILFs and he couldn’t deny it. He was. There was certainly one mother he’d love to fuck, and it was Stacy’s. In all honesty, it was half the reason he kept showing up here. 

“I hate to say it, Stace- your mom is banging.” Jeremy said what Harry was thinking but got a smack upside the head with a waterlogged pool noodle, making him yelp. 

“Do not talk about my mom like that you freak!” She hissed. “She’s a beautiful woman but none of you are going to even think about her in any way but my mother.” Her warning glare did little to deter Harry, though he merely shrugged at her to get her to think he agreed. There was no way in the world that he would ever turn away a chance to be alone with Y/N. He would beg on his knees for a chance to touch her. 

“Don’t look at me! I’m just saying it. Harry’s the one who’s the MILF Hunter.” Jacob snickered, making him raise an eyebrow. It was true and he wanted to smirk- because yes, he’d fucked a few older women before. Being a mechanic during the week and a bartender during the weekend had their perks, including women who found him to be more than a bit interesting. There had been a few instances he’d taken them up on their offers, quelling their loneliness and lack of orgasm with his own brand of fun. But none of them had ever appealed to him quite like Y/N. 

The forbidden fruit theory, maybe. He really, really shouldn’t even entertain it. A crush turned into an obsession though, he was fucked. The moment he thought he had a chance, he would be taking it. As cocky as he could be, he knew he would be able to handle her. 

“Yeah, but Harry’s not going to say stupid shit to my mom.” She huffed. 

With a smirk on his face, Harry gave a half ass nod before watching the woman of discussion shoot them a beaming smile across the yard before she turned to go back inside. Harry’s eyes ate up every curve, every drop, every inch of skin he could see before she closed the sliding glass door to the deck. 

If only she knew. 

——

Harry was sitting at home when he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. People usually gave his number out to people who had car trouble, knowing he was reliable and could always use a bit of cash. It wasn’t something he minded, but he was exhausted tonight. Sitting down in his apartment, he exhaled slowly before clicking the green button to answer the phone. 

“Hello, who’s this?” He asked gruffly, his slight agitation bleeding into his tone.

“H-Hi! I’m so sorry to call you so late, but it’s Y/N. Stacy’s mum.” She said shyly. “I’m sorry to bother you Harry, but my car… it’s not starting. I was meant to go to the grocery but it’s just making this noise and-“ 

His whole body shot up straight as he got confirmation as to who it was. Was it some sort of joke? Or were the angels smiling down on him for once? Any ache in his body and heaviness in his eye disappeared as he stood up from the sofa, making his way towards the door. 

“M’on my way. It’s no trouble.” He said in a softer tone, thankful he had already showered. Maybe he’d need to do it again, but he wanted to look halfway decent for Y/N. “It’ll be about 15 for me to get over there.” 

“Oh-are you sure?” Her voice was slightly hesitant. “You sound tired and I can order groceries if I need to, I really don’t want to put you out.” 

“Promise, it’s not a big deal.” He assured her, tucking his wallet into his jeans before opening his front door. “I’d always help you with whatever you need. Didn’t mean t’’sound so grumpy, I didn’t know it was you calling.” He’d have been halfway to her house if he had known. “Give me 15 and I’ll be there.”

“As long as you’re sure.” He could tell she was doing the worried thing she usually did with her fingers touching her bottom lip. There had been a lot of silent observing on his end towards the woman and he could almost see her in his head. “I’ll make sure to make it up to you.” 

Even though there was nothing suggestive in her tone, Harry could feel his prick stiffen up at the mere thought of it meaning something more. It took the whole drive there to will it down. 

—-

Harry arrived to the house to see the garage doors open- and Stacy’s car gone. 

Was this his divine intervention? He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he knew she had to be gone. Harry was the one who did all the work on their cars, so it wasn’t in the shop. More than likely they’d be all alone. 

The summer night was cooling off a bit but there was still a decent amount of daylight left. The stickiness had subsided and it was far more comfortable than he had been at work all day in his damn coveralls. He’d sweat up a storm and cringed the moment he’d had a moment to himself, hating how hot the garage got in the summer months. His own garages would have proper AC one day. 

He was thankful for the heat though when he saw Y/N come out from the garage, her lavender dress obviously a swimsuit cover up. The straps of a bikini were underneath it, the halter top of the dress tied behind her neck. It was shorter than her normal dresses making Harry peer up at the sky and ask anyone who was up there to lend him some strength in order to not pop a stiffy in front of her- at least not yet. 

“You really didn’t have to come out so quickly. I didn’t think before calling you.” Y/N crossed her arms as she walked towards the younger man who was fishing his toolbox out of the back of his pickup truck. She couldn’t help but admire how much of a man he’d truly become. Tattooed now, shown off by his black tank top. Hair a bit unruly and curled. Stubble on his upper lip and jaw. He was a man now, not a hint of boy in the slightest, and it was a little intimidating. She remembered him when he was far more lanky, 19 and shy. Now he was 23, with larger arms and broadened shoulders, a pretty set of lips and a husky voice. Things she shouldn’t have been paying attention to. 

There had been a bit of tension between them somehow, tension she hadn’t been able to pinpoint where it had begun. The one thing she did know is that he was an observer. His eyes were watching her when she came out and he kept eye contact as they spoke, like he was giving her every bit of attention he had when she was talking. Maybe it was the heart sickness she felt but it was so nice to feel listened to, appreciated. Harry always helped clean up, always told her daughter to be respectful to her mum, always asked her how her day was. He was a complete gentleman every time he came over and she had to wonder how much of a problem it was for her to sort of wish for that attention all the time. 

Ever since she had found out Patrick had been cheating on her, she’d felt a bit used. Dirty. Of course marrying a man 10 years her senior who was a hotshot lawyer had probably been her first sign something would go wrong, but he used to dote on her. That was until she began to age. It wasn’t like she was old- she could probably still have a kid if she wanted! But she’d gotten pregnant at 17 and Patrick had been quick to marry her on her 18th birthday. A problematic union at best, but she’d tried to be happy. She was provided for and had a beautiful home and daughter, one so smart she was able to skip around in school! But… she’d never felt truly loved. Not that toe curling, soft eyed, tummy turning love that she’d always imagined. 

Not even the passion she wanted. All she wanted at this point was for someone to want her. To make a move, to show her she was sexy and prove that her newfound revelations were true. 

The last three years had been tearing herself down to build back up. There was some part of her that felt 22 again, wanting to live the life she hadn’t been able to as a young mum. But that didn’t mean she had to look at Harry the way her brain was trying to. 

“Stacy is at a concert a few hours away otherwise I would have just asked her to borrow her car.” Having him here now made her feel all the more ridiculous for calling him over for such a stupid reason. Tomorrow would have at least been during normal work hours.

“Y/N.” Harry’s hand rested on her shoulder, making her breath catch quietly. “S’fine. I’m more than happy to help you. Alright?” His thumb rubbed over the cuff of her shoulder before he gently lifted his hand away, carrying his toolbox further into the garage. 

She felt a bit buzzed, as pathetic as it was. It had been so long since a man had touched her, let alone a younger, attractive one. It made her feel like her brain had fogged up. 

“Keys in the ignition?” He murmured. “Want t’see what we’re working with.” 

It was enough to shake her out of her fog, nodding a bit too eagerly as he gave her a soft smile, sitting himself in the driver’s seat. She leaned against the garage door as she watched him turn it over a few times to no avail, making her worry her bottom lip between her teeth. She had no idea about anything car related and luckily it had all been minor stuff until now. Her ex had the cars serviced every few months and she had been dropping the ball. What if it was bad? What if she needed a new engine and Harry thought she was an awful car owner? What if-

Her train of thought was snapped out of it as he let out a chuckle, standing up from the seat. “I know what it is. Isn’t a big problem at all.” He walked over to his toolbox. “Battery is dead. You may have accidentally left the key in, or a door open, maybe a light on. Not a big deal. I’ll just give it a jump.” 

While he didn’t seem annoyed about it at all, Y/N felt very, very dumb. How could she have not known that’s what it was? Something so easy to fix. Her cheeks burned as she cringed, feeling the guilt well up in her body for making him come out when she could have just asked a neighbor for a jump. 

It took him just a few tries with her following his instruction to turn the car on when she said so in order for her car to turn on as if nothing had happened. It was slightly humiliating.

“Oh, god… Harry, I’m so sorry.” She groaned. “I’m not… I’m not good with cars and I thought the engine was dead or something big happened to it. I made you leave your house for no reason. I can’t begin to say how awful I feel.” It felt even more embarrassing because it was such a quick fix and he was an expert in cars. She probably seemed like a bobble head. 

“Woah- S’okay.” He closed the hood of her car and detached the jumper cables. “It’s actually a good thing. I’d rather it be a quick fix than something that would cost you thousands. That’s the ideal. No one is an expert in cars right away and m’sure that the whole thing was probably be a bit troubling if it’s the first time it’s happened to you.” His voice tried to soothe her worries away. The man truly looked unbothered by it all, happy to help- but still. 

“Well… if you’re sure.” It still felt hot around her cheeks as she made her way towards the door leading to the kitchen. “Come inside, I’ll get you something for helping me.” 

Harry let out a sigh as she waited at the door for him, tucking his toolbox and cables back into his car before following her inside. A mixture of giddiness and nerves rocked through his system as she led him towards the kitchen where her handbag was. Alone with her at last- and with a good excuse. No one would question him coming over to help with the car. Surely, Stacy had given her his number. He had every right to be here. 

So why couldn’t he extend his stay? 

“How much do I owe you?” Her hair fell in her face as she looked down into her bag, fishing around for her wallet. It was always a bit of a mess with receipts she needed to toss, makeup she needed to put away, a first aid kit she’d only really ever needed once- all the things making it more difficult to find her wallet. So difficult that she didn’t notice how close he got until his warm, slightly calloused hand closed over hers, gently pulling it out of the bag. 

Her heart stuttered as she raised her head to look at him. Tanned skin from being out in the sun, a few freckles here and there. A birthmark near his mouth she’d never noticed. He had more scruff than the last time she had seen him too, making her mouth dry a bit as she blinked up at the man, her hand suddenly feeling much smaller in his own. He was a bit too close but there was no desire in the slightest to pull back.

“You know me a bit better than t’think that I’d charge you for a jump.” His voice was low, soft. A volume it didn’t need to be for it being just the two of them. He also didn’t need to be this close to her, close enough to smell a warm, woodsy soap on him and mint from the gum he was usually chewing. Her body felt hot under where he touched her, heartbeat quickening at his unforgiving eye contact. 

“B-but you came all the way out here.” She whispered back. It wasn’t necessary to talk that low but it was following his tone, the tension palpable in the room. “I’d feel awful for making you come for nothing. I really should pay you.” His stare was intimidating but also… a bit addicting. He didn’t look away from her- no, his eyes looked over her face. Maybe she had imagined the lingering at her lips, but part of her hoped she didn’t. 

“Have you had dinner yet?” His question made her slightly confused, not the response she had been expecting. 

“No, why? Did you want me to cook for you?” That made her perk up a bit. She had to do something to repay him. It wouldn’t be right not to. 

“No. I want t’cook for you.” His words were matter of fact. There was no way she didn’t believe his desire to do so, considering he looked so sure of himself. It just was a bit confusing. Her brows furrowed, head tilting a little as she turned more towards him- all too aware he hadn’t dropped her hand from his grip yet- giving him that questioning look. “You have the ingredients for chicken teriyaki? Rice?” When she nodded, his eyes glanced over to the pineapple in her fruit bowl. “Saw a recipe on how t’make it in a pineapple bowl. Was going to do it this weekend but I’d like to make it here. A bit more room in this kitchen and… it’d be nice to eat with someone.” He wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d like to eat with her. “May I?”

“I- I mean of course you can, but it doesn’t… how is it payment for you? For you to be the one to cook me dinner?” It was a bit hard for her to understand. She was the one who did the cooking for everyone else and it sounded like he was doing her yet another favor. 

“Because you’re fun to be around, nice to talk to, I won’t have t’shop for the ingredients, and m’starving.” It was self explanatory to him. He wanted to get away with spending as much time with her as possible. Especially when she seemed to be so shocked at the idea of someone being nice to her without the thought of repayment. It sort of pissed him off. “Just sit and talk to me while I cook. It’ll be nice to hear you without people interjecting.” 

Y/N hadn’t realized he had noticed that. His back was already turned, going through her fridge to get the chicken out along with some of the ingredients for the sauce but her brain was still on that. Had his shoulders always been that broad? Harry had always been quiet and observant. The nice guy, sweet and thoughtful but he didn’t seem to take any of the friend groups shit. Stacy was the youngest out of them all and he’d always been thoughtful about her. Protective over her feelings- to the point Y/N had assumed Harry had a bit of a crush on her at first. That proved to be false when she’d heard about Harry being set up with one of the mothers of the kid’s Stacy taught swim lessons to. 

One of her faults was indeed being nosy, and she’d listened in on her daughter when she dropped off lunch to the pool talking to said mother. She was definitely younger than herself with a much younger child but she apparently had one good night with Harry before he politely decided not to see her again. 

She wasn’t dumb. Y/N heard their teasing of Harry liking older women… and perhaps that’s why he made her a tad bit nervous. It wasn’t like he’d ever made a move, but he had a sensual air around him. He’d been gentle with her today, but never inappropriate. Was it bad to wish he would?

The answer was a resounding yes, it was not at all something she should ever want- but that didn’t mean that’s what her brain was thinking. 

She pulled out a pineapple wine she’d gotten as a gift, never a more appropriate time. A glass was poured for each of them as Harry went about the motions, preparing and chopping and starting the rice. Maybe adding alcohol into the mix wasn’t the smartest idea, but she needed something to take the nervous edge off.

“Is it lonely in a big house like this?” Harry asked as he dropped the chicken into the pan. “When Stace is gone, does it feel a little daunting?” 

“Sometimes.” She pursed her lips. “It’s been my house for a while now so I’m used to all the noises and I know all the neighbors. You can hear the kids playing outside, lawnmowers, or people getting home from work.‘At night it can be… it can be a bit unnerving. Cold. But Patrick was gone a lot of nights at the office, so it’s nothing I’m not used to.” A bitter scoff left her as she took a sip of wine before shaking her head, face falling. “Sorry. I know that’s the last thing you want to hear about.” 

“No.” He said simply. “I’d like to. I don’t mind.” His tongue ran over his bottom lip before he met her eyes, placing his wine glass on the counter. “Everyone needs someone to vent to sometimes, Y/N. Know m’younger than you and all but I’m not clueless when it comes to relationships.” A gentle smile softened the blow of the words. “Tell me about it if you want. You don’t have to censor yourself. Not around me. It’s just us.” 

There was a burn in her belly at the last few words. It felt… really fucking nice to be told that. That he wanted to earnestly hear her talk. He was an incredible listener, she found. It made her wonder how much of what she said in the past he had really heard. 

“Uh… well…” twirling the glass in her hand, her fingers tightened around the stem as she had to break eye contact with him. It was making her feel a little light headed. “He was cheating, as I’m sure you know. Stacy didn’t take it well. She’d cut up all his ties by the time I found her.” Her smile quirked on her lips. Her daughter had a thirst for revenge. “It was worse when I found out it wasn’t just one person but multiple women. All at his job. It’s why he moved firms.” Her lips tightened as she looked towards the sliding glass door that was open to let the air in, the sun having started to set just a bit ago. A golden glow ran over the kitchen and she had a hard time not staring at the man in front of her. 

“I… I’m not sure how much you know of myself and Patrick, but we were in a relationship when I turned 17. He was 27. I thought it was very impressive and I was so mature for my age that he chose me, but it wasn’t. It was wrong. And when I got pregnant, we had to hide it until I turned 18 and he could marry me. His parents were lovely grandparents to Stacy but awful parents to him in the way they enabled his behavior. So for a long time I just thought it was a big star crossed love story when in reality, he stole my youth from me. I don’t ever regret my daughter- don’t get me wrong.” Her look was desperate for him to believe her, but he didn’t seem to have any judgment on his face. It was a breath of fresh air considering people usually gave her pitying looks this far along. 

“I love her and I wouldn’t change it. Everything happens for a reason but… I’m just a bit bitter now. My best years spent on him and he’s fucking other women because I’m ’showing my age’ and I’m essentially aged out.” Her face curled in disgust. “I work hard on my body! I keep up with my appearance! You know? I’m not lazy. I didn’t let myself go which- even if I did, that’s no fucking excuse for cheating. Marriage was supposed to be for love, for better or for worse. At least that's what I naively thought.” It had been so long since she had someone to talk to, someone who didn’t seem to fucking judge her or try and tell her it was okay. Harry merely nodded, keeping his eyes trained on her face as she got it out. 

“It should be what marriage is for.” He replied in a bit of a lull. “I mean, I’ve never been married but… S’a simple enough concept to understand. I don’t think you were naive in thinking that. He was just a dick for taking advantage of you.” Harry didn’t like Patrick much from the start. He’d been a show off, obviously trying to compensate for something. He’d sort of steamrolled over things Y/N used to say, and even though he’d only seen them married for a few times he came over. It was a good thing they divorced in his humble opinion, and not just because he was a bit obsessed with the woman standing in front of him. She seemed to grow from it, her confidence rising tenfold.  He’d been holding her back. “I don’t think there’s much wrong with an age gap… as long as the parties are both of legal age.” He chopped the pineapple in half, making sure to make it even. “So, m’sorry you had to go through that. Stacy is great, but I wish you didn’t have to feel that way. It’s shit.” 

Y/N felt a bit validated with his words. Maybe it was the wine, but she had a feeling it was just his presence that had her relaxing. He was right on all counts, but it was a little hard to accept at times after being manipulated her whole adult life. Someone was agreeing with her that weren’t her own parents. “Thank you.” She whispered. “I’m glad at least you think so. People kept telling me that marriages have bumps in the road and I was being a bit rash, filing for divorce so quickly after I found out but… Cheating is just not something I can stomach. I think they were thinking about his money, his reputation. Cared more about how he would be seen than if I was happy. I had to do a lot of cleaning up after the divorce. Friends I had for years chose his side and… yeah. I’ve been a little lonely.” A sad laugh left her before she cleared her throat. The man probably didn’t want to hear about that. “But luckily I’ve found more fulfilling things. It’s nice when you guys come around.” Her smile grew genuinely. “I’ve always liked taking care of people. That was one perk of being in the situation I was. Being a mum was great. It’s a bit jarring now though, with her out of the house the majority of the time. So, in the long roundabout answer to your first question- yes, the big house is a bit daunting sometimes.” 

Y/N had rambled and babbled. Harry had been happy to listen, attentive even while cooking. She knew she may be embarrassed later about spilling her fucking guts out to him when he had only come over to fix her not so broken car and decided he wanted to make her dinner, but it was so fucking refreshing to have someone in her kitchen with her. 

It was embarrassing how much she missed male attention. She’d wanted to clench her thighs together when he grabbed her shoulder earlier and it was pathetic, but it was hard not to notice how wonderful Harry was. He was hardworking, intelligent, sweet, charitable, understanding and stupidly fucking handsome. He could cook too, apparently. Something her ex husband could never even attempt. 

“Thank you for sharin’ all that with me.” His voice was even and smooth as he gave her a gentle smile. “I, for one, am glad you divorced him. I think you’re incredible. You don’t deserve someone who’ll step out on you. Let out multiple times.” It truly did piss him off. The man had a woman who was willing to give the world and still managed to be greedy for other women and fucked it up. “I’ve never really understood that sort of thing but, I think you’re too good for him anyways. Know you said you feel like you wasted your youth and by the risk of sounding a bit cliche, age is just a number in this instance. You can do anything you want now that you think you would have wanted to do back then. And..” He smirked slightly. “You look like you could still be in your twenties. So I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Him acting like aging is a sin in any situation is fucking dumb considering it’s something unavoidable and sorta beautiful if you ask me. Older, wiser, more experience. It’s a good thing. To me, at least.” 

Y/N did know of his taste for older women and though she had no intention of bringing it up, she seemingly couldn’t keep her mouth shut tonight. Without permission from her mouth, the words fell out like a tumble. “Is that why you go for older women?”

The room fell silent for a minute and she could feel the return of the heat under her cheeks, eyes widening as she snapped her hand over her mouth. It wasn’t something she wanted him to know that she knew, but too fucking late now. His head tilted back up, eyes falling on her own wide ones before he let out a laugh. A reaction she hadn’t expected in the slightest. Her hand fell in a motion to try and apologize but he lifted his own to stop her, calming from the laughter as he shook his head. 

“Fuck, M’sorry. I didn’t mean t’laugh, but you looked like you scared the shit out of yourself.” He giggled, running his fingers over the corners of his mouth as they curled into a smirk. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize. We’re both adults here.” A clear definition that he was definitely seeing himself on her level. “It’s okay t’ask me about, love. I’m fine talking about it. You just told me details about your divorce so this seems a little tame in comparison.”

As much as she hated herself for it, her stomach flipped at the term of endearment. Harry and her hadn’t spent much time alone before but he had never called her that before. Maybe it was a bit of a bond forming being alone with him. He’d always been a bit ahead of the others in terms of maturity. Not in a creepy way like Patrick used to say about her, but in a genuine hard working way. He’d taken his jobs, career, and promises seriously. It was hard not to know how reliable he was when people constantly used that word to describe him. Seeing him as more of an equal instead of his daughter’s friend was easy when they weren’t around. There was that old soul type of thing she liked.

“I obviously did not mean for that to come out of my mouth. But uh-” She ran a hand over her dress to self-soothe. “I heard them teasing about you and one of the mum’s of the kids Stacy teaches had been bragging about…” The woman didn’t need to finish her stance before Harry laughed through his nose, trying to hide his smirk. 

“Ah.” He nodded, turning the heat off on the stove and pouring the sauce onto the chicken. “Yeah. I do, I’ve always preferred older women. I get teased for it but it’s just what I’m attracted to.” There was that thought in his mind though, wondering what the woman had been bragging about. He’d sure as hell fucked her well and thoroughly, but at the end of it he had opened his eyes and it wasn’t Y/N. It’s his common problem these days. Falling out of interest when he realized he was chasing a feeling from people that weren’t the object of his affections. “I went out with her once… went back to her place.” He shrugged. “It was alright. I was pretty up front about not being sure we clicked but she wanted me to come in, so…” He shrugged. The girl didn’t seem to have hard feelings when she texted him a few days later asking for a repeat and he declined because he was going to be here for a get together. 

“Can I ask why?” Morbid curiosity, that’s what she would call it. It was killing her since she had found out though. Why does a young man, almost in his prime, go for older women specifically? Not that she didn’t think they weren’t worth that, but it wasn’t the norm. “If it’s not too personal.”

“You can get personal with me, Y/N. I don’t mind.” He clarified, dishing some rice into the pineapple bowls he’d carved out. “I think there’s a few aspects to it but I appreciate maturity. One of my first experiences was with someone a few years older than me and it kept going from there. I enjoy intelligent conversation. Someone who can keep up and not just talk about the things girls my age talk about. Nothing wrong with them at all, but every time I’ve tried dating someone my age it’s fallen flat. I enjoy dates at nice restaurants or at home. Cooking for them, listening to music. I work a lot, I’m not much for clubs. Even pub crawls have been a lot for me at times considering I work at a bar on the weekends, work all day in a garage. People my age don’t usually seem to understand or appreciate my work ethic but.. I want a house like this one day.” He motioned around the kitchen. “I’ve been saving loads of money, staying in my apartment and making sure I don’t spend crazily. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic, so I want t’provide for someone one day. Maybe that’s a little old fashioned but It’s fulfilling to me. Want to open my own garage, maybe multiple and… I dunno, older women have always been more receptive to my plans, to the way I am. And I’m not a huge texter. I like phone calls, seeing someone in person. Dating my age is a lot of that.”

It wasn’t a shock to her that his ethics would be a turn off for younger women who sometimes got a bit in their head about the attention they needed. It wasn’t a drag or anything of that nature, but a lot of younger women relied on that sort of thing. Texting all day that he obviously wouldn’t be able to do. They deserved the relationships they wanted but so did Harry. It was a surprisingly nice answer from him. He had lots of decent reasons that made her feel a little more intrigued than she should be, but she couldn’t help it. The man was alluring. 

“And… permission to overshare a little bit?” He asked, wanting to test the waters. Y/N looked intrigued, nodding as she leaned on the counter. “Older women tend to be a bit more.. Compatible with me sexually. A bit more eager. Some are experienced but it isn’t really about that, it’s about knowing what you want. Being a little less shy in asking for what they want. Everyone’s different of course, but I find that a disappointing amount of men aren’t giving women what they want, and I’ve been happy to provide that. I’m a giver, it’s what I like. So…” His pink tongue ran over his bottom lip as he kept eye contact with her. “There’s that aspect of it too.” 

Y/N could feel the slight throb between her legs as he spoke. There was no hint of shyness in his face as he spoke to her, just matter of fact. He had no shame, if anything he seemed.. A little smug. Something that oddly made her stomach flip and flutter  as he pushed her plate towards her and settled on the opposite side of the island, sitting on the stool. 

“I.. I can see that.” She murmured, knowing she must look a little flustered. Considering it had been years since she’d had sex, just the way he was looking at her was working her up a bit further than she would ever want to admit. “I think..” If he was oversharing, maybe she should too. Or maybe that was the slight buzz the wine had provided. “I’m still trying to learn what it is I want. I was only with one person my whole life and then… After the divorce I had a one night stand and it was not at all satisfying. I’ve meant to try and go on dates more often but the few I’ve been on just didn’t feel right.” It wasn’t something she talked about often at all. She had her two girlfriends she talked to about sex- or lack thereof- and the toys they got in order to satisfy what their dates couldn’t. 

This little tidbit had Harry leaning in a bit closer, chewing the first bite of his food. It was surprisingly good for a recipe he’d found on a social media site, but he was far more interested in what Y/N had to say. “I mean it’s only natural, isn’t it? To be curious?” He waved his fork in the air. “Was he satisfying you in your marriage?” The look on her face was all he needed to see for an answer. Her lips pulled in and her gaze averted, he did feel a seedling of pity for the woman- but hope for himself. One man’s loss was another’s gain, wasn’t it? He would be able to actually pleasure her. He knew he could. He hadn’t failed yet, and there were genuine feelings there for her so… he had a lot of faith he’d be willing and able to please her. Half of the battle was just listening to her. Knowing what she wanted. “It’s okay, I can tell what your answer is. But m’sorry to hear that.” He frowned. ��You deserved better than all of that. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, but you deserved a hell of a lot more for what he put you through.” Personally, Harry would never drop the ball like that. 

Realistically, Y/N was his dream woman and this was without knowing what she liked in bed. Everything about her was perfect to him, all except the pesky fact that she was the mother of one of his friends- but honestly? He was willing to risk it. She was worth that sort of risk. She had the demeanor, the charm, the intelligence, and so far, the sort of lifepath that aligned with him. He had to talk his way into it a little bit more than likely, but he was ready to try. 

“Thank you, Harry.” Y/N knew she probably looked a little flustered. She was. He was saying all the right things and she felt a weird level of comfort with him that she hadn’t experienced before. He was a man. Maybe he was younger than her, but he had a level head. He could cook. He worked multiple job, had ambitions, he knew what he wanted and he wanted to be a provider. Something that she found to be overwhelmingly sexy. She was noticing him in less than appropriate ways more and more. Like how cut his jaw was as he chewed his food, the scruff on his face, his strong, big hands. So fucking big, making the fork he held look small. His arms were built, flexing as he leaned against the countertop. The memory of his broad shoulders wasn’t too far from her brain either. “You’re… I haven’t spoken to a lot of people about that stuff. I don’t mean to take up too much of your time tonight, I know you must be tired after work but… I really appreciate you coming here, fixing my car, cooking. Talking to me. You’re great company.” 

“Like I said earlier, I like being around you.” It felt like he could see into her soul. Green peering inside of her, spreading her open. “If m’being honest, there aren’t many other places I’d rather be. M’happy to help you with whatever you need.” 

If Y/N was crazy, she’d think it was a double meaning. She’d overthink and imagine that he was implying something not so appropriate. Things that had her tummy flipping and cunt weeping. Pathetic, she knew that. Here she was, lusting after the younger man as he stared at her from across her kitchen. The sun had now set and the darkness was beginning to set in, and she wanted more than anything to take his hand and drag him upstairs to her bedroom but she had to clear her brain before she did something rash. “I enjoy spending time with you too.” Her smile was soft as she took her plate and brought it to the sink. “Just let me clean these dishes and then I’ll walk you to your car. You’ve been such a help tonight.” 

Y/N felt a little shaky as she turned the water on and let it run over the dirty pan and the other dishes she hadn’t quite gotten to. As much as washing dishes was something people usually hated, the girl found it a little therapeutic. She’d just gotten into it, relaxing just a bit when she felt a hand curl around her hip, a cleared plate set into the sink and the other hand shutting the water off on her. “What-”

“I think we’re dancing around it now, Sweetheart.” He said lowly, cuffing his other hand on her waist. Her body stilled as he pressed himself into her, his confidence high as he watched her shaky hand drop the sponge. “I think there’s something we both want and you don’t know how to ask for. And that’s okay.” His nose brushed the shell of her ear as she closed her eyes, swallowing thickly. “I know that you haven't been taken care of. I know you weren’t satisfied in the ways you deserved. I meant it when I said that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Y’know that, right?”

“Harry, what are you doing?” Her voice was breathy as she clenched her over the counter but making no move to leave his grip. 

“I’ve been after you for a while, Y/N. I think you pretend to not notice how I look at you. I think… you were a little jealous when you found out I took that mum from the swim group out and fucked her, because you wanted it to be you. But let me assure you… I wanted it to be you, too.” His heat spread along her back as his fingers moved to splay over her tummy, the same tummy that was a mess of butterflies just under his fingertips. 

“You did?” While she should have been shutting this down considering this man was friends with her daughter… she couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel more listened to, more desired, more aroused than she had been since… well, possibly her whole life. 

“Of course, love. To be honest, I was tryin’ to give you time to adjust. To be single, to find more of yourself. You’ve blossomed so much since I’ve known you. I knew you’d probably want t’reject me because of how you know me, but I just need a chance to prove to you that I can be what you need.” The chills on her skin were unavoidable as his lips smeared over her neck, groaning quietly as he inhaled. “You smell so fucking good, y’know that? Makes me crazy. No one else smells like you… I knew touching you would ruin me.” He pulled her further into him, laying the first kiss on the hinge of her jaw. “I’d be fucked. But I’ve been fucked for a while now. No distraction took away from the fact that any body under mine wasn’t you. Wasn’t the voice I wanted saying my name. I just want to show you that m’worth the risk.” 

The low baritone of his voice was making her want to whimper. Soft, hot lips pressed a trail of gentle kisses down her throat that got progressively more wet, making her cunt follow. Leaning back into him, it was hard to fight when her body felt like it needed him. His hand pressing on her stomach, pushing her all the way back until she felt him. Her gasp was wet, a chuckle vibrated against her throat as he ground himself against her ass.

“I’d fill you up. Make you feel it all the way in here.” The pressure on her stomach suddenly made a flash of heat boil in her belly, imagining it. Craving it. It always felt like something was missing during sex anyways. “I know you need it. You need someone to worship you, to make you understand just how irresistible you are. I’ve been dying to do that for you. Makes me so fucking angry t’know the people who’ve had you haven’t pleasured you, made you unsatisfied while I was dreaming about just a fucking lick of you. Just a squeeze.” Her hand fell on top of his own, breathing a bit more labored as the length of him against her ass taunted her further. 

“You were?” The woman knew she probably sounded a bit wrecked but she was. Harry was making her needy, desperation filling her chest in a way that almost overwhelmed her. She was hungry for more, more of his touch, his lips, his confessions. 

“Mhm. Had t’get my fill in those little touches you’d give me. Running you hand over my back, brushing past me in the kitchen, grabbing my hand. I’ve been wanting to hold you like this. Kiss you until you can't breathe. Make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock, make you melt just for me. S’that something you’d want, baby?” His teeth grazed her jaw getting a little whimper from her throat. “Hm? I’d like some words from you. I don’t mind doin’ most of the talking, but don’t leave me hanging.” 

“I would- yeah. I would like that.” She was indeed panting. If she was a different woman she’d probably be ashamed over how much she was actually gagging for it, but there was something that made her truly believe that Harry could back up every single claim he said. “I haven’t been touched in so long but… you’ve made me feel so good already.” The admission made him smile against her skin, she could feel it. “Is this- do you just want sex?” 

“No.” Her neck felt cold as he pulled away, manhandling her a bit and making her enjoy it far too much as she was turned and reversed in position to be facing him now. Her chin was grabbed between his fingers and his now dark eyes pinned her own. “S’not just a fuck to me. I like you, Y/N. Know it’ll be a little complicated considering the situation but to put it bluntly, I don’t give a fuck.” There was no room left for doubt with his words. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for fucking years, and unless you don’t want me, there’s nothing and no one else that’s gonna keep me from getting what I want.” When she failed to reply, he coaxed it from her. “C’mon, baby. Words.” 

“I-I want that. I just didn’t know it was so serious for you.” She felt her cheeks flush at the intensity of it all. “It’s a good thing though… You’re making me a little dizzy.”

“Yeah?” He crooned. “A little dizzy? So fucking cute. I intend to do more than that, though.” Without another word, he took her mouth. Took it like he owned it, kissed her like it was already his. 

Y/N melted into it immediately. Fell into the kiss and clutched his shirt to pull him closer as he made her brain empty of any thoughts but ones pertaining to him. How big his hands were, how easily he moved her around, how soft his lips were, how he tasted, the slight smell of motor oil underlying the fresh, clean smell that followed him over here. It was pathetic, maybe, to completely resign herself, to hand herself over to the younger man but… could anyone blame her?

Yes, he was younger. But he kissed like he had been hand plucked to be attached to her lips. His tongue brushed into her mouth and she moaned out loud, allowing him to kiss her any way he wanted. Y/N was touch starved and she knew it, but there was something electric about the way he held her. The way he kissed like he was starving, like he couldn’t get enough of her. His hand slipped down her back and greedily palmed her ass, squeezing it tight enough to make her whimper. It had been so fucking long since someone touched her like they knew what they were doing, like they knew what to do to make her feel good. Harry acted like she belonged to him already, pulling her leg up over his waist as he pressed her into the counter. “Hop up.” he whispered against her lips, using his hands to cuff her waist and tug her right up on the countertop. 

Immediately her legs were spread and his body was between them. While he was somewhat lean, he was broad. His arms were big, his hands were too. She had to spread a bit and let her dress ride up as he manhandled her, yanking her back so she was right up against him. The sweetest whimper left her lips and translated to his, making him pull back to look down at her. Her smeared lip gloss and wide, glossy eyes looking up at him. Hair a little messy when it was usually styled, she looked… alive. The way he wanted her to feel with him. “M’gonna spread you open and get a taste, because I’ve been fucking dying for it for years.” He told her bluntly. “But just a taste. I’ll spend hours between these perfect damn thighs tonight… but I need to be inside of you.” He felt like he toed the line between unhinged and the most control he ever had. The man knew what he wanted, he told her what she was going to get, and yet he felt like he had never been more passionate about something in his life. Finally getting the chance to be with the woman he wanted was something that he had been counting down the days for. Nothing could stop him from doing this. 

“Yes, please. I want you… I want you to take over.” She swallowed. It wasn’t always this way. Sometimes Y/N enjoyed the idea of being on top, enjoyed teasing, enjoyed the thought of being in charge for a little bit- but never in her life had she wanted a man to just do whatever the fuck he wanted. It was because she knew he would know how to please her. 

That assumption wasn’t wrong. 

Seeing the man get on his knees in front of the counter, ordering her to take the dress off and toss it to the side to expose her plain cotton bra and underwear, maybe she should feel a little apprehensive- but the only thing she felt was needy. Desperate. Wanted. The look in his eye told her that he wanted her and he wanted her more desperately than she even knew. His lips kissed over her knees and upper thighs, obviously pacing himself as his fingers tugged the waistband of her panties and slowly peeled them off her body. 

Harry wished he spent a bit more time admiring her. He wished he had the self control at this point to not just pull her to the edge of the counter and take a thick lick over her glistening cunt and nuzzle his face into it regardless of the fact he was getting wet- but he didn’t. He pulled her up and onto his tongue, getting the delicious little gasp he had been dying to hear. Manicured nails gripped the countertop behind her and buried in his hair, wet gasps leaving her mouth. Garbles of his name and calling to god, but he was busy. Getting her flavor on every inch of his taste buds and committing it to memory, dipping his tongue into her entrance and lapping up to her clit where he sucked lightly, he was self serving. This was for him and she was reaping the benefits. 

“Oh my f-fucking god.” Y/N said in disbelief, watching green meet her eyes as his nose nudged her clit. “Oh, you’re so fucking good, Harry. Holy fuck.” It was hard to comprehend that this man was on his knees for her when just a few nights ago he had been helping her set out snacks for their friend group as they had a hang out at the pool. Seeing him as the man he was, she couldn’t believe she’d never seen him in this light- not seriously. He had completely blown her expectations out of the water as his tongue flicked over her entrance, pressing against it and making her curse repeatedly. 

The sound of a belt clanking on the floor was mostly ignored- but his fingers inside of her weren’t. In fact, she teared up slightly at the feeling. “Yes, fucking… finger me, feel me.” She growled, her thighs pressing him closer. He had no problems, humming against her as he played with her clit and opened her up with his fingers- surely for her benefit considering he had felt quite impressive against her ass. “Shit, I can’t believe this.” The laugh was quickly melded into a moan as he pulled her clit back into his mouth and added a second finger. 

Harry shook his head into her cunt. He felt her clench around his fingers and the sounds of pleasure above him, and he didn't want to stop but if he didn’t, he was positive he was going to blow his load all over the kitchen floor. There was no bothering to wipe his chin as he stood back up, gripping her face for another deep kiss. “M’obsessed. Tastes even better than I expected… You’re never going to get me away from it.” He wasn’t even joking. He would gladly call off his shift from the bar tomorrow if it meant getting to spend that time tasting her. “But I need to get inside of you. I need to make you cum around my cock.” He went to get his wallet from his pocket but was surprised when she stopped him. 

“I’m clean. I’ve- I’ve been tested and I’m on birth control-” Harr interrupted her with a loud groan, fisting his cock in his hand as his pants fell to his ankles. 

“Thank fuck.” He laughed. “This may be over quickly, but this isn’t the last time I’m in you. I want to make you cum over and fucking over- but I don’t want to waste my load on the floor when it’s better suited inside of you.” He watched her to answer, but he was pushing in before she got a word in. 

“Oh- shit.” Y/N clutched him, looking at him with wide eyes as he sunk into her. Mouth hanging open, she adjusted to the stretch as his head dropped against hers and he kept her eye contact as he sunk in inch by inch. Their breathing mingling as the feeling encompassed both of them. “Oh my god- you’re so fucking big.” Her voice was unfamiliar to herself, sulky and whiny with the pleasure she felt from being stretched. 

“I know, baby.” He grinned, holding on to the nape of her neck. “You’ll get used to it.” Without another word, he pulled out to thrust back in. The process was repeated as her hot, slippery cunt clenched around his cock and tried desperately not to give it up each and every time. 

It was, again, better than he imagined. Nothing could have prepared him for how good it would be to sink into the perfect hole, how she would grip him and suck in deeper. How she’d soak him and how her fingers would dig into his arm, how all he’d be able to see and smell and taste was her. It completely engulfed him and he had no urge to do anything but stay right here. “Okay?” He checked on her as he ground himself into her, her clit brushing over the hair right above his cock and getting it wet. 

“I’m so good.” She slurred, lost in how good it felt to have him inside of her. “I’m so full.” It was insane to her, knowing how she had been treated last time. Even with his direct approach, she’d never felt more cared for, more appreciated. He was working with her, checking in, all while making the first moves that made her feel like he had been hand made for her. “Go harder. I can take it.” 

Y/N had never been fucked the way she wanted and that had been apparent to Harry. He just had a feeling and he knew that she was going to need him in ways she hadn’t experienced. Ways he was more than happy to deliver. “I’ll give you anything you want, Baby.” His nose brushed against hers. “Just make sure to scream my name nice n’loud when you cum for me.” 

It was unlike sex that she thought was real. Y/N held on to Harry as he plowed into her, his grip on her tight as his eyes looked down at where they were connected. It was wet, so fucking wet and creamy all over the base of his cock that she hadn’t known she could do. Her thighs were spread out and over his forearms as he fucked into her like it was his one and only job, whimpering out his name as he gave it to her the way she’d needed. “I knew you’d b-be able to give me what I wanted.” Her words were jostled as her body was, but he replied with another hot kiss. 

Messy, full of tongue and wet, she relished in his desperate need to taste her again. It didn’t matter that her chin was wet or she was getting bruised on her hips, she’d finally felt fulfilled in sex. “Yeah? Y’knew I’d be able to give it to you?” He crooned. “M’glad you knew, because I plan on being the only one doing it.” The words were completely serious and possessive and Y/N loved it. Feeling this level of desire was brand new to her and she didn’t want to give it up. 

“Uh-huh, I- I want you to be the one to give it to me.” As wrong as some people may see it, this was the epitome of a man. Even if he was younger- he had a plan, he had two jobs he’d held for years, a place of his own… He had more than some people her own age. Dedication and loyalty like his were irreplaceable. Maybe she was crazy in indulging in this, in allowing him to have her, but after wasting years with a man who didn’t want her- she wasn’t going to turn away someone who obviously desired her, wanted to worship her- and made her feel like she wanted to do the same back. 

“Good. I wasn’t planning on letting anyone else get a taste. You’re going to be my woman, this is going to be my pussy, M’gonna keep making you feel good. I don’t care who has shit to say about it.” He grunted, pressing theirs mouths together again as he felt her get close. The rippling around his cock and her soft whimpers against his mouth, her hand gripping him hard, he was close to finally fulfilling his fantasy. His dream girl letting go around him and making a mess. “I can feel it, y’know. Feel how you’re gonna cum for me.” He panted against her mouth. 

Y/N felt lightheaded in the best way, her body tingling and the pressure in her stomach building with each scrape of his tip against the spot no one else had reached- or even bothered to look for. Harry was perceptive and keen on her, about to make her orgasm from penetration for the very first time. In all her years she had thought something was wrong, but it turned out that she’d just been with shit people. Her ex husband, the attempts at hook ups, they had no idea how to work her body… But Harry? It seemed like he’d written the manual from the first time he touched her. The only thing she could think about was the pleasure and how good he looked giving it to her. 

Lips swollen and teeth grit, vein on his neck visible, his arms flexed as he railed her. It was like fucking her was his purpose, and fuck- he was fulfilling it. “I am.” She breathed, the tension getting tighter in her stomach. Again, those tears rose in her eyes as each thrust jolted the pleasure inside of her. “I am, I’m gonna cum for you Harry.” Remembering at the last minute that he wanted her to say his name, she sure as hell gave it to him.  “Please, Harry…. Just keep fucking me, give it to me, you’re right where I n-need.” It was right there, she could fucking taste it. “Harry, Harry-”

“Cum for me.” He coaxed. “C’mon, baby. First of many, show me how you cum on my cock. Get me nice and wet- fuck, you’re gorgeous.” The man was in awe of how beautiful she was, but even more about how good it felt as she began to finish on his prick. Her mouth dropping and her eyes watering as she let out a slew of cusses, the quivering of her cunt making it hard to hold on. “Fucking beautiful, that’s my girl. F-Fuck.” 

Y/N felt like she was floating. Pleasure hit every nerve, white hot and tingling. She had no idea what was coming out of her mouth but she felt the burn in her eyes as a tear fell down her cheek, clinging to him as each thrust got that sweet spot and made her tremble in his arms. He didn’t stop, the dark noises he made only spurring her on further. She was wet and she knew she must have completely soaked him. The wet sounds had gotten louder and the way he had groaned let her know she had to have gushed around his cock. “Harry, Harry- H, oh my god.” She bleated, nails digging into his arm. The constant stimulation was only making her more wet and he seemed to be loving it. 

Harry was drunk on the feeling, his own orgasm trailing right behind hers as he worked her through it. She’d made a mess, one he was happy to have all over his skin. The scent of her on him would be his reward, her marks even more so. “M’gonna cum.” He growled. “Where? Where do y’want my cum, baby? Tell me where you want it.” 

“Inside. Inside me, please, give it to me there.” Her legs wrapped around him tighter, making it nearly impossible for him to pull out- like he’d ever want to. His balls tightened at the words, eyes blazing as he looked down at her face. She seemed just as far gone as him, the suction of her soaked channel making him feel borderline insane.

“You- Fuck, Yeah? You want me to give you my load in that perfect cunt?” His grip on her tightened, sure to leave bruises but that was a problem for a later time. It had been a fantasy of his forever, his spunk dripping from her swollen pussy and now she wanted it- was begging for it. There was no mistaking her rapid nod, head tipped up at him as she whispered ‘please, please, please, give it to me’ and fuck, Harry was only so strong. 

He did exactly as asked, his sloppy thrusts hard as he grunted while coming to his end. It flashed over his vision as the loudest groan left his swollen lips, hips stuttering as he buried deep and let loose. Spurts of cum leaving his tip as he unloaded inside of her, the pulsing of his prick felt by both of them as he emptied his balls of every drop of cum. Claiming her, marking her in a symbolic way and the way he’d always been desperate to do. 

There was little hesitation as he took her mouth again, giving her a deep kiss. Tongue running over the roof of her mouth before sucking on her tongue, the most unhinged kiss he’d felt in his life as she clung to him and her cunt continued to milk him of every little bit. “Fuck.” He laughed in disbelief against her mouth. He was coated in a light sheen of sweat, Y/N’s hair was a mess and he was still snugly wrapped up in her as he gently moved her back so she was more comfortable on the counter. His hand came up to stroke her cheek, watching her hazy eyes look back into his own. This was his wet dream come true, but Y/N had no idea the man she had just unleashed. He was just… happy. Satisfied, motivated and fucking happy.  This wasn’t just a fuck for him. “Meant what I said.” His voice was hoarse as he fawned over her, adjusting her hair so it didn’t stick to her forehead. “M’gonna keep you. This isn’t a one and done and I plan on treating you the way you’ve always fuckin’ deserved.” His lips sampled hers again, feeling her arms come up over his shoulders as she reciprocated. “You’re my dream woman, Y/N. M’gonna make sure m’your dream man.”

[wonuilu]

WONWOO FIC RECS ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

MDNI,18+ CONTENT.

“pincushion” by @pasteidolons

Pairings: tailor!jeon Wonwoo x bookbinder!reader (W.C:19.9k)

Summary: when a newly appointed tailor stops into your shop one autumn morning,you’re unaware the impact he would have on your life better or for worse.

“Sibilance” by @starlightxsvt

Pairing: lawyer fem!reader x rich bad boy (W.C:4.9k)

Summary: he is always getting in trouble and it is your job to get him out each time. The problem is, the more time spend with him, the bigger trouble it becomes for your heart. In the end,who will get you out?

“Bucket of happiness” by @thedensworld

Pairing: Businessman! Wonwoo x reader ft. Mingyu

Summary: After the divorce settled, you immediately moved to Canada for your treatment. Meanwhile, Wonwoo has to run away from his parents who couldn't stop forcing him to get married.

“Of shy smiles and misunderstandings” by @icyminghao

Pairing: Wonwoo x gn!reader (W.C:1.8k)

Summary: Wonwoo sees you at the library almost every day and falls head over heels for you. only, you seem to be avoiding him for annoyingly unknown reasons.

“Catnaps” by @wheeboo

Pairings: jeon wonwoo x gn.reader (W.C:8.6k)

Summary: In which you volunteer at the local cat shelter with your crush.

“Catnaps with you” by @wheeboo

Pairing: jeon wonwoo x gn!reader (W.C:10.1k)

Summary: In which you revisit the cat shelter with wonwoo during autumn break.

“W boyfriend” by @hvllevator

Pairing: streamer gamer bf!wonwoo x afab!reader (W.C:2.4K)

Summary: watching wonwoo play video games is so hot.

“Blindside” by @ylangelegy

Pairing: fem!reader x office worker!wonwoo (W.C:2.7k)

Summary: inspired by THE business proposal scene.

(Or: The three times Wonwoo keeps his glasses on, and the one time he doesn't.)

“Us,again” by @vitaminkyeom

Pairing: Wonwoo x Female Reader (W.C:11.3k)

Summary: If crush at first sight was a thing then you were a fine example of it. How you were heads over heels with a man you had just met was beyond you but you all you knew was Jeon Wonwoo had occupied every bit of your mind and heart. But when you and him finally began dating, little did the two of you expect a your relationships to turn out this way.

Or, in which, you and Wonwoo unfortunately have a happily never after ending.

“Enchanted” by @heechwe

Pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader (W.C:6.1k)

Summary: Life as the housemaid and an inconvenience to your family is not what you wished for, but Wonwoo brings a new, royal perspective that turns your world around.

“new beginnings” by @etherealyoungk

Pairing: husband!wonwoo x fem!reader. (W.C:2.1k)

Summary: in which a certain someone starts getting extra clingy to you, leading you to find out you're pregnant.

“for the books” by @trblsvt

Pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader (W.C:2.2k)

Summary: wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with.

“Nerd” by @smileysuh

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader (W.C:3.9k)

Summary: Look up at me for a moment, gorgeous," Wonwoo commands, and you do as you're told. He meets your gaze, his skin flushed from your mouth suctioning on his cock. "Just need to get your eyes right for your character," he explains, threading his fingers through your hair and aiding you up and down on his throbbing length.

"Such pretty eyes. You look so good staring up at me with your mouth stuffed full, baby."

“By line” by @wonwussy

Pairing: ceo!wonwoo x reporter!afab reader (W.C:5.3k)

Genre: enemies to lovers, smut, dramatic af, angst

“And it was all yellow” by @sunhoures

Pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader (W.C:5.7k)

Summary: wonwoo doesn't believe in love at first sight, but he finds himself falling for you a lot sooner than he thought possible

“You’re my tomorrow” by @hongcherry

Pairing: customer!Wonwoo x cafeOwner!Reader (W.C:5k)

Summary: At first, you didn't think anything of it.

Jeon Wonwoo was just a customer.

However, his daily visits to your bookstore café started to become the highlight of your days. The little conversations here and there made you happy. It's because of him that you always look forward to tomorrow.

“fuck the neighbors” by @sluttywonwoo

Pairing: jeon wonwoo x f reader (W.C:3.3k)

Summary: curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back- at least, that's what they say.

“Her” by @chocosvt

Pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader (series) (W.C:140k)

Summary: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you.

unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can't see this going well. at all.

“The bore next door” by @ncteez

Pairing: wonwoo x afab reader

Summary: Jeon Wonwoo is not dull, nor is he the clean and polite neighbor that your mother assumed he was when she set you up on this awful date.

or the one where wonwoo takes you home on the first date and renders you unable to walk, hoping to god that you don't expose him to your parents.

── .✦ these are some of the fics which I love a lot! The authors/writers have done such a great job, so please show them loads of love! Like and reblog their posts!

Ps: this is my very first time posting something on tumblr, so I apologise if I’ve done something wrong.

[sunsguilt]

SMASH OR PASS WITHOUT THE SMASH !┊ft: all nrc characters!

warnings: none! contains: gn reader

notes: this is essentially a dateability ranking in terms of pure survival and living your best life. i love all the characters dearly, and this is just for fun!

HEARTSLABYUL

riddle rosehearts: don’t get me started on him. hypothetically, let’s say he has a single romantical bone in his body. he would probably (definitely) want to date someone his mother would approve of, so someone who’s super studious and thinking about becoming a lawyer type of thing. even then, his mother would be the overbearing MIL stereotype, and riddle would just bend to her every whim, so it wouldn’t work. would probably divorce you if his mom said to. 

overall rating: 2/10, could be a nice cushy life if he took his penchant for memorizing rules into a lawyer profession and became a rich husband, but still the MIL…. you would end up on r/relationshipadvice within weeks, i’m afraid. 

ace trappola: he’s like a frat boy to me, honestly. I think you could be friends with him within reason, but if you actually date him… he’s the kind of guy who would pursue you and then get bored once u start dating. whoops, he had a consensual workplace relationship. he canonically ghosted his ex, guys. 

overall rating: 3/10, you would be dating a frat boy. you don’t want that for yourself, trust me, speaking from second-hand experience here. 

deuce spade: deuce is actually normal. like he’s no rich boy, but his family is respectful and his mother would adore you if he brought you home. he’s a little slow, but he’s got the spirit, y’know? 

overall rating: 6/10, very nice in-laws, very cool husband. you may end up being the primary breadwinner. 

cater diamond: with cater, it’s probably a bromance that turns into a real romance. mostly because he didn’t want to confess and ruin the whole thing you had going on together. likely a guy who needs a lot of validation from his partner. like he’ll say he hates pickles if you don’t like pickles. will not let a pickle pass his lips. will try his very hardest to convince you to do silly couple challenges.

overall rating: 8/10, he’s sooooo cute but he’s got unresolved mental instability like you wouldn’t believe. personally, i love that in a man. call me fix-it felix.

trey clover: trey is. trey. average guy whose family runs a bakery. he’s cute though!

overall rating: 5/10, he’s probably a freak in terms of intimate relations! teehee! no further comment.

SAVANACLAW

leona kingscholar: leona is a nice guy, respectful etc. but after a while, he’s not putting the same energy into the relationship as you are. the added layer of dating a literal prince…. no matter how disregarded he is by his family, he is second in line for the throne. the pressure from that sounds crazy, i won’t lie. you might be able to ignore the pressure of him bringing you home to straight up royalty ! overall rating: 5/10, he’s so dreamy and gorjus but he wears uncle sandals. jack howl: oh he’s so bf material, like you don’t understand. him being really firm on the fact that beastmen choose a life partner? wanting to fall in love and be committed to someone until his dying day? this is Romance. he's probs a good guy to bring to the gym for support if you’re just starting to work out regularly! might accidentally push you past your limits bc he’s thinking beastmen standards and not human. overall rating: 7/10, he’s so cute and i love him, but he’s a gym bro and does daily early morning jogs and such. cannot accept it. ruggie bucchi: he’s actually another really normal guy to date! he’s shown to do anything to provide for his loved ones (bringing food home from school to provide for his friends and family). very much an acts of service guy! 

overall rating: 4/10, the chances are high that he’ll do that thing that broke dudes do when they get all touchy and hug their partner when the partner pulls out their card to pay for something. 

OCTAVINELLE

azul ashengrotto: he would be nice to you ONLY if he had something to gain. would actually play the long game in order to sweet-talk you into signing some contract that totally screws you over forever. he is a capitalist at heart, i fear. he’s gonna get you in some get-rich-quick scheme. also, he can’t kiss and it would be weird and a lot more drool than necessary.  overall rating: 6/10, i love octopus.

jade leech: oh god. he’s like visually appealing but the longer he's talking, the worse it gets. his hobby would literally be getting your heart rate up. you’d be lucky if you don’t get high blood pressure from his desire to see your face twist in an ugly expression. he has a penchant for learning, so he’ll want to research the topic of his interest to the fullest to get the desired results.  overall rating: 3/10, the moment he’s tired of you, he’ll never speak to you again outside of a professional setting. floyd leech: he wants to have fun every day he can. which is fine, nothing wrong with that. the problem lies when he wants to rope you into it. and his idea of fun is….. questionable. he would call you up in the middle of the night and ask if you wanna go for a joyride that takes you over state lines. and you would only get like three minutes notice. he would also invite himself into your dorm and sleep in your bed. no, he’s not making the bed either, the guy canonically has to be forced into ironing his own shirt.  overall rating: 3/10, he looks like he bites unironically. would you get rabies if a humanized eel bit you?

SCARABIA

kalim al-asim: oh he’s so sweet, but the only problem is literally the fact that he’s rich. he frequently talks about multiple attempts on his life in his youth up until the present day. if people outside of your circle found out you were with him, word would surely spread to unwanted ears, and your life would be at risk because of that immediate association.  overall rating: 6/10, a total sweetheart, but i don’t think i’d be able to eat breakfast with him without wondering if something’s in our food. jamil viper: he has too many underlying issues that include but are not limited to: an inferiority complex that exists due to his forced proximity to kalim. as much as i’d love to say i could fix him, jamil almost killed kalim. Plus, jamil is literally kalim’s servant. association with kalim = will probably die. overall rating: 5/10, he’s got issues, but he’s so cute and probably just needs that reassurance or whatever. my silly guy!

POMEFIORE

vil schoenheit: vil is like my fav so i’d love to say that because he’s so nice and rich and pretty that he would be a perfect ten. WRONG. he’s famous. bad! what if he has crazy stans who go after you bc you’re dating him? for your own safety, you would never be able to go public with your relationship, that is if the tabloids don't get to you.  overall rating: 7/10, you’ll have to listen to him go on tangents about neige. 

rook hunt: if you’re thinking “yeah no he’s probably a safe bet, he’s rich and i could be his trophy wife/husband”, you like french people and you’re lying to yourself !!!!! ive never met a normal rich person in my life, and rook is no exception. he would know your shoe size before you even know his last name. 

overall rating: 0/10, he’s weird AND french.

epel felmier: he lives in a small town where everyone tends to know each other and their business. there’s no hiding your relationship from them. downside is, he would have a crazy inferior complex if you were taller than him. He needs to be a Man’s man, yknow??? overall rating: 6/10, he’s a good cook, an incredible one, even. if you can’t cook and you can deal with a man who desperately wants to show you how cool he is, then this is the one for you. 

IGNIHYDE

idia shroud: he wouldn’t date, like he’s a NEET guys, i don’t see it at all. He would marry someone if it was for tax reasons, or just to tell people he isn’t bitchless. you'd just go to a courthouse real quick and pop by an ihop after.  

overall rating: 6/10, he would be an incredible overwatch carry. would bully you for sucking super hard in any type of pvp game. 

ortho shroud: he’s like a child, so he is not included! 

overall rating: 0/10, in terms of dateability, he’s silly tho

DIASOMNIA

malleus draconia: you would be perfectly safe with him. yeah, he’s not fully clear on the norms of human society, but he treats you well! problem is, he'd be a little too obssessed and its going to very quickly turn into "he's going to keep u in this tower bc hes scared abt u dying"

overall rating: 7/10, wouldn’t you love a loser man who is obsessed with gargoyles?!  silver: objectively, the world’s most perfect man. he’s super cute and can cook! everything you would want in a man. he's also got his wacky little sitcom type family like step brothers who are Not human and a dad who is Not human but like they care for him he cares for them! 

overall rating: 9/10, no real drama and they'd probably be elated if he brought someone home.  sebek zigvolt: he would choose malleus over you every time, i’m so sorry. like “sorry babe malleus needs help shining his sword or whatever, you can start the movie without me.” realistically the only time sebek could be in a relationship is if he finds someone whos as obsessed with malleus as he is so they can be hyperfixated on him together or something. like how kpop stans marry each other, but with malleus the dragon prince. 

overall rating: 2/10, he would use you has a human dishrag to clean shoes for malleus.  lilia vanrouge: everyone loves a fictional old man, but this particular old man comes with trauma and emotional baggage spanning centuries. You can only fix-it felix your way out of so many things. he’s cute, though. 

overall rating: 4/10, canonically picks his nose, i fear.

— ☆

[janeyseymour]

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 8

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Summary: It's been three months. Life has changed, and the custody hearing of Millie is just around the corner.

WC: ~2.1k

It’s been about three months since you’ve moved in with your daughter’s teacher- three months of pure hell. You’ve been absolutely miserable, and with good reason. Carrie is making everything so God awful for you. Despite the fact that you have a Protection From Abuse Order, and Melissa’s lawyer friend was able to prove that Carrie was indeed abusing you (turns out, going to the doctor has its benefits- you had more sprains and injuries that hadn’t necessarily healed properly due to your apprehension over doctors), her lawyer is… he has one of the best success rates in the city.

Melissa has been great- she’s willing to help you in any area that you might need assistance in. Her friend in enforcement helped guide you through getting a restraining order, another connection that she has to a law firm was able to help you file for divorce and rush the process as much as possible while also revoking Carrie’s custody of Millie for the time being. The redhead drops you off at work in the morning so she’s positive that you’re safe and then takes herself and Millie to Abbott. She’s arranged for a buddy of hers to pick you up after work and drop you back off at Abbott, where Ava is always there to greet you. She’s cleared out the office that she never uses in order to turn it into a bedroom for you. You rarely have to cook dinner anymore because the woman that took you in loves to cook. She helps with your daughter in any way that she can- making sure she goes to bed at the right time, telling her to get in the shower, ensures that she’s eaten enough, assuring her that everything is going to be okay. Melissa has stepped up in a big way for your little girl.

Not only has she stepped up for Amelia and you in terms of safety and your little girl’s wellbeing, but she’s been a pillar of support for you in the hardest time of your life. She understands how difficult this is- quietly admitting to you that she’s been through difficult divorce, and that divorce didn’t involve domestic abuse or the custody of a young child. She lets you cry your heart out when you need to and promises you that everything will be okay. She made sure that the cut to your face was always as clean as possible when it was still healing. She promises you that she doesn’t want anything in return for living with her- you’re actually doing her a favor. And while you know she’s just saying that… there’s a small part of you that believes her. There’s a small part of you that finds yourself falling for Melissa- every side of her. The protective, willing to take a bat to someone for you, side- but also the warm and soft Melissa that you’ve found yourself lucky enough to see.

Barbara is also a huge part of your support system. She takes over watching your daughter when you need a day to yourself- when Melissa knows that you can’t push your way through the day with a smile, and you need to be taken care of. The kindergarten teacher becomes something of an aunt to Millie. 

You’re fairly certain that the two women that you’ve grown close to are walking angels on this earth. You have no idea how you were lucky enough to have them come into your life in such a big way when you so desperately needed them. 

While the motion for divorce was a simple one- it was quite clear to all parties that your wife was abusive in more than one way, the idea of custody was hell. You were hoping that the careless attitude your wife had about Millie while you were together would make things easy and she would grant you sole custody of your daughter. And she almost did. She can’t stand the fact that Millie takes after you in every way but looks. But then she realized that she can make your life a living hell if she fights. And because she’s solely looking for revenge, she fights like hell. She’s resorting to the fact that she is the breadwinner in the household and that you cannot support Amelia on your own. Your soon to be ex-wife comes out with claws, ready to rip you and your parenting to shreds (she doesn’t have a single thing to tear you up with, but she’s sure as hell going to try- and you wouldn’t put it past her to attempt to lie to get back at you). Carrie is claiming that since she is biologically Millie’s mother, your daughter should go with her. And there is no way you are losing custody of your daughter. There’s not a chance in hell that you are going down without a fight in this regard. And so, you’re being forced to show up for family court to determine who is going to get custody of your daughter, or if there is going to be shared custody of the little girl.

Your case is being reviewed tomorrow, and you’ve taken off today and tomorrow for your own sanity. You know you can’t go to work with your head in such a fog. Melissa and Barbara have both taken off as well to ensure that you have the support that you’ll need no matter the outcome of this trial.

Dinner is simmering on the stove when Melissa comes in with your little girl, Barbara not far behind the two. The three of them kick off their shoes before they enter the kitchen.

“You’re cooking?”

“I- I didn’t know what else to do,” you mutter as you twist your fingers together nervously. “I hope that’s okay.”

“You know you can do whatever you want in this house,” Melissa assures you with a gentle pat to your shoulder.

“It should be ready in the next hour,” you tell them as you pull your daughter into your arms. You kiss her head warmly. “How was school today?”

Millie goes on a long tangent, detailing what you think might just be every second of the day. You listen intently, of course. Because your attention in solely on your daughter while she rambles on and on, you don’t catch the way that Melissa watches you with such a warmth- how her eyes are trained on you and all of your beauty. Barbara notices though- of course she does.

“… and now we’re here!” your little girl finishes with a toothy smile.

“That sounds like quite the day,” you chuckle softly. “And did Miss Schemmenti give you homework?”

“Miss Schemmenti didn’t,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “But Melissa thinks that Millie needs to hop into the shower and read for twenty minutes before dinner is out and on the table.”

“Oh,” you glance over at the second grade teacher. “Well, if that’s what Melissa thinks, what do you think you should do, little girl?”

“Go shower,” Millie sighs, and she heads for the steps. Then she turns and runs back. Her arms wrap around your waist before she softly tells you that she loves you. She does the same to Melissa, and then she gives Barb a tight squeeze with a promise of seeing her tomorrow. Then she runs up the steps, giggling to herself.

“I’m assuming with Millie’s goodbye now that you aren’t staying for dinner tonight?” you ask the kindergarten teacher.

Barbara shakes her head. “As much as I would love to, Gerald is waiting for me at home. But I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Y/N.”

You give her a tight smile. “See you tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Barb reaches a hand out, and you take it. She squeezes gently. “Everything is going to be alright- I’ve been praying over you.”

“And Barb is a straight-line to Jesus,” Melissa nudges you playfully.

“That I am!” the kindergarten teacher chuckles. “Melissa, dear, walk me out?”

The redhead furrows her brow, but she obliges the odd request. Once the two of them are in the mudroom, the gruff woman lets out an exasperated, “What?”

“When are you just going to tell that woman that you’re falling for her?” the kindergarten teacher smirks and wiggles her eyebrows.

“Barb, what?” The more defensive side of the second grade teacher comes out. “I am not.”

“Oh, girl please,” Barb rolls her eyes. “You told me months ago you had the hots for her, and if the way you look at her is any indication, you still fancy her.”

“And she’s still in the middle of a divorce and a custody battle,” Melissa counters.

Barbara shrugs. “All I’m saying is: I’ve seen the way you look at her, I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and…”

“She’s in the middle of hell right now,” the redhead reiterates. 

“There’s always after.” With a smile and a few nudges, Barbara Howard exits.

Melissa makes her way back to the kitchen as she ponders what her work wife had said. Were you… was it possible that you may have also started to develop feelings for her? She shakes her head to shake the thought. But then her eyes are on you, and she can hear the soft and sweet humming as you tend to the meal on the stove. The sun is streaming through the window in a way that almost makes you glow, and her mind wanders back to the fact that she has absolutely fallen for you.

She goes to say something to you, but Millie comes down the steps with a hairbrush and a book calling for Melissa.

“Mel? Can you brush my hair for me and read with me?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” the redhead instantly melts for your little girl. “C’mon. Let’s go sit on the couch while your momma finishes up dinner.”

You can hear Millie ask the redhead, “Is dinner gonna be done soon? I’m hungry,” as they make their way into the living room.

Dinner is peaceful. There’s no discussion of the elephant in the room. Instead, the air is filled with your daughter only continuing to somehow find details that she missed earlier of her day, and Melissa tells you about the rest of her class. Your little girl makes sure to insert her own commentary on what her teacher has to say. The three of you settle on the couch to enjoy a few episodes of television before it’s time to put the seven year old to bed. 

Melissa is, as it turns out to be, the magic touch the Millie needs in order to go to bed without a fight. The two of you oblige her request for a story, silly voices included. The redhead has learned that your daughter is quite particular about how she likes to be tucked in and how her stuffed animals surround her- and she’s able to perfect it, something that not even you have managed to do in the seven years of your little girl’s life. The two of you kiss her head softly, promising that you’ll be in to wake her bright and early tomorrow.

The two of you settle back on the couch, glasses of wine in hand, with a heavy sigh.

“You ready for tomorrow?” Melissa asks you quietly, breaking the silence and the tension in the air.

“I just hope I don’t lose my little girl,” you tell her. “I can’t lose her.”

“You won’t,” Melissa whispers, scooting closer to you. Her hand finds its way around your shoulders and gently pulls you in close. “You won’t.”

“But what if I do?” You look to, and you look absolutely petrified. “Carrie’s always… had a way of getting around things.”

“This is family court, and the judge does what he or she thinks is best for the child. They usually have the child testify too, and I am positive that your daughter would much rather be with you than your ex.”

“I just… I don’t know what I’m going to do if Carrie somehow gets custody of her,” you sigh as you lean into her warm figure.

“You have a solid case, and your lawyer has your back,” the redhead promises. “And ‘sides, Barb and I are there to help support your case. We see how good you are with Mill, and we both have experience with Carrie.”

You just give a hum in response. The two of you finish your glasses of wine and head to bed. Neither of you get great sleep- not with what you have the next day in your minds. 

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @kmaxmadness @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule

[222col]

sugardaddy!patrick finally has you to himself, an unfortunate tale of events for sugardaddy!art | part three of sugardaddy!au | 18+

art wakes, arms reaching out for you. you're not there, he rubs his eyes and sees your note on the nightstand.

i love you, art donaldson.

the two of you had never uttered those words to each other. he wanted to, so badly, so many times. but he knew the arrangement, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable. he slips on a pair of boxers and heads downstairs to find you. he stumbles into the kitchen, still half asleep. tashi is sat at the breakfast bar, handing him a protein shake. "let's go, you've got training in an hour." she carries on typing on her laptop. "what? you said i had today off," he lifts the shake up to his lips. "well, now you don't." she shuts her laptop. "where is she?" he questions his wife. "gone, i sent her away." it's like art's world just stopped moving. he's ready to call his lawyer immediately and get the divorce papers together. "get her back, now tashi. you can't do this to me. i love her." tashi puts her laptop in her handbag. "and that's exactly why she had to go."

patrick wasted no time pulling you into his room and fucking the life out of you again. you're becoming like a drug to him already. the two of you lay together on his hotel bed. "now, you gonna explain to me why you were sat with tashi yesterday? leaving with her and art?" walking over to the open window, he lights a cigarette. "she told you, i'm modelling for her new campaign." even after the hurt she's caused you, you still lie for her. he shakes his head, taking a drag of his cigarette. "the real reason, not some weird pr reason that tashi uses to cover up." you debate telling him everything, tashi took art away from you, you doubt patrick would tell anyone anyway, given him now being in the same situation with you that art was. not yet, you think. "can i tell you some other time?" you sit up. patrick shrugs, "sure, princess."

he throws his cigarette out the window, pulling a clothes bag out of the wardrobe. "i bought you this, to wear later, to my match." he unzips the bag, showcasing a white loewe dress. "you want me to come to your match?" you question, eyes not leaving the beautiful garment patrick is holding out for you. "well yeah, what if i want my cock sucked after i win?" it's like he knows. knows that's exactly what you did to art only minutes before he caught you in the hallway yesterday. he's smirking too. "well, you gonna try it on or what?" you jump up, almost snatching the clothes bag from his hands. "there's some lingerie in there too that i want you to wear, oh and i got a girl at sephora to pick out some make up for you, that's in the bathroom, so you don't need to go home and get ready." your brows furrow, looking up at patrick. he's so thoughtful when he's not being an arrogant fuck. "what?" he laughs, finally handing you the outfit. "i told you, you look after my needs and i'll make sure you look extra pretty as you do."

you carry the clothes bag into the bathroom, giggling as you go. you jump into the shower, washing yourself quickly before pulling the lingerie out of the bag, white lace to match the dress. you don't even want to know how the hell he got all your sizes right.

(he called up a stylist you'd worked with, telling them he was a stylist too, who'd lost the document with your sizes on. he's very resourceful when he needs to be)

you apply your make up and blow dry your hair, exiting the bathroom, still just in your underwear. he'd gotten ready for training in your absence, tiny black shorts and a matching tank. fuck. art's tennis shirt is still in your purse. the purse with his initials on. you pray that patrick has bought you a new matching bag.

"god, you're ridiculous." patrick mutters, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling your body towards him as he kisses your stomach. "christ, if i wasn't already late to practise i'd fuck you again right now." he looks up to you as you smile. "you'll just have to be patient then, patrick." you turn around, he falls backwards on the bed at the sight of your ass. "jesus christ," you laugh walking back to the bathroom. "put your dress on, you're coming with me to training." you keep the door open, slipping the dress off it's hanger and placing it on your body. fits like a glove. "you're sure? you don't want me to just make my own way later to watch the match?" patrick stands, zipping up the back of your dress. "i'm not letting you out of my sight princess, i wouldn't dare, can't risk someone else coming along to try and take you from me." he places a kiss on the back of your neck. he points over to the chair in the corner of the room, matching shoes and bag wait for you. "when did you even do all this?" you question. "yesterday." he's smug in his answer. "but i hadn't even said yes yesterday!" you jokingly shove him. "i knew you would."

you're nervous in the car there, patrick drives with his hand on your thigh. what if art is there? what if tashi is there? what if either of them see you with patrick? patrick carries his bags on his shoulder, linking his free hand with yours, leading you to his dressing room. it surprises you, art kept you so private, never touched you in public unless he knew for certain no one was around. yet here's patrick, holding your hand, in the middle of a tennis tournament, not even considering the thought of caring who might see. frankly, he wants people to see. he wants people to know you belong to him now. he drops one of his duffles in the room, keeping the other on his shoulder. "c'mon princess, you can sit on the side and watch me practise." you can't believe it, he seriously isn't hiding you in any way, shape or form. there's a few rows of bleachers at the practise courts, he walks you over to them. kissing your mouth, winking and meeting his coach on the court. "i know, i know, i'm late," his coach looks at him, then you. he laughs at patrick, throwing a ball to him. "can't even blame you, patrick, i would be too."

for the first time since arriving at patrick's hotel this morning, you check your phone. 27 missed calls. from art. you open up your texts, reading through the mass he's set you along with the attempted calls.

baby, please come home.

don't worry about tashi. i'll work it all out.

you don't have to be scared of her. i miss you so much.

i love you too baby please just come home.

you can't reply. for fear of tashi, you ignore them all. you're sad, of course. heartbroken. but falling in love with art was never part of the deal. you let it go too far, he was married for god's sake, you won't let it go that far again. you look up, back to patrick. he winks to you, carrying on with his serves. you lift your feet onto the chair in front of you, returning to your phone. scrolling through your social media for a while before patrick appears at your side. he's sweaty, his skin glistening in the sun. "you know i can see your lacy little panties from down there with your feet up on the chair like that." he takes a swig from the water bottle he's holding. gasping, you move your feet back to the floor. you're blushing, he loves it. leaning down to you, his lips grazing your ear. "put them back." he orders. he's so dirty, you're revelling in it. he moves his hand between your legs, teasing you. you're so grateful his coach is turned around picking up the stray tennis balls. you moan into his ear. "you're so easy to turn on, baby." he lifts your legs back onto the chair in front, kissing your knee and walking down the stairs of the bleachers. "don't fucking move them or you're in trouble."

despite his distraction, patrick plays well. following all instructions from his coach. wrapping up after an hour or two. he rushes up to where you're sat, pulling you down the stairs and back to his private room just as quick. he sits on the bench in the room, pulling you onto his lap, legs straddling him. "we've got a couple hours before my match starts," he's kissing your face as he speaks. "so i say we get some food, get you some drinks, give me some pussy, what'd ya think, kitten?" you're grinding slowly against him as you reply. "can we do it in reverse order?" you tug on his earlobe with your teeth. "oh christ, absolutely." he hitches your dress up, letting it bunch up around your waist. shimmying his shorts and boxers down his legs, pushing your underwear to the side. you reach between your bodies, lining patrick up with your pussy. you pump his shaft as you hold him there for a few seconds, he bucks his hips up, forcing his way inside you. "stop fucking teasing."

he pulls out of you before he comes, his load landing over his tank. "you're lucky that didn't land on my dress." you giggle into his neck. "oh no, then i'd have to buy you a new one." he mocks you, kissing the side of your head. he cleans himself up, changing into a white polo. "let's go, princess, i'm ready to eat after that." he takes your hand again. "are you sure you want to leave to do that? i'm all for you eating me out in public but that might get you disqualified." you joke with him, taking his hand. rolling his eyes and laughing. "we'll have to wait until later before i lap up my dessert." he kisses your lips, opening the door for you, leading you to the bar. his hand doesn't drop yours, as you thought it would, only once he finds a table. pulling out a chair for you to sit. you peruse the menu of light lunches the bar has on offer, telling patrick your order as he leaves the table to order at the bar.

"what the fuck are you doing here?" tashi has occupied patrick's seat. "i told you to stay away from us." you're scared, and anxious, but you can't let tashi see through you so easily. "i'm not here for either of you." tashi scoffs, folding her arms. "bullshit. why are you here then?" patrick returns to the table that moment, placing his smoothie and your tequila lime soda on the table. "oh you've got to be kidding me." tashi scoffs again. "look, tashi, i don't know what business the three of you have going on. but i can tell that whatever it is, is over." her gaze leaves you, looking up to patrick in disbelief. looking tashi in the eyes as your name leaves his lips, placing a hand on your shoulder, "is here with me, as my date. so can you maybe leave us to it?" holy fuck. he's defending you. to tashi. calling you his date. so openly. tashi stands, breathing deeply as she leans down to whisper in your ear. "didn't take you long to jump from art's dick to his best friends, did it now? wonder how art would feel about that?" goosebumps rise on your skin. she walks away, patrick sitting down opposite you. you know she'd never tell art, it would break him even more than she already had, meaning he'd grow even further away from completing his grand slam, the one thing tashi actually cared about.

patrick's legs touch yours under the table. "hey, fuck her, okay? whatever she said, ignore it. you're with me now, don't worry about it." you nod your head at patrick's words. sipping your drink, rubbing your leg against his. food arrives as you and patrick share more about yourselves, his interests outside of tennis, your life outside your career. you're more compatible then you thought you would be. after eating, sharing more about your lives and a few more drinks, patrick walks you over to your seat in the stands, it's the best seat in the house, the first row, right in the middle of the court, the net mere feet away from you. you grow shy with the amount of looks on you, patrick leans over the barrier that separates him on the court and you in the stands, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before speaking sweetly to you. "i told you baby, i'm not letting anyone take you from me, so i gotta show them you're mine." he pecks your cheek before taking off to warm up and get ready for his match.

you check your phone again while waiting for it to start. more calls and texts from art. you can't even open them, instead opening instagram, snapping a picture of the bottom half of your outfit, purse on your lap, legs crossed, showing off your new shoes. the picture shows how close you are to the court. captioning the image 'day two of a tennis filled week' and uploading to your story. you're texting your friend about a date she's about to go on when art replies to your story.

are you at patrick's match???

is this becoming a mini series yes i think it is idk about u guys but i cant get enough

[burningvelvet]

being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide

walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration

be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father. 

speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them. 

be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)

consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.

reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians. 

if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife. 

speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.

if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.

After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.

If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.

If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can. 

DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.

[umbreoncomplex]

the reason aa5 feels so different from aa4 is because apollo didn't get to divorce anyone. i cant speak on aa6 yet but aa4 is just

turnabout trump: apollo becomes unwilling divorce lawyer for phoenix seeking to divorce kristoph

turnabout corner: apollo reveals alita tried framing wocky for murder, leading to their divorce

turnabout serenade: apollo reveals daryan is a murderer and tried smuggling borginian cocoons into the country, leading to divorce between daryan and gavin

turnabout succession: apollo is forced to further unravel the divorce case between kristoph and nick

who did apollo divorce in aa5? no one. this is where dual destinies failed

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 4

Summary: it is time

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  language, sweet Ransom, difficulties with divorce, Scott, difficult conversations, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 8.1K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Ransom,” the man rolls his eyes as Andy walks into his office foyer. Ransom was trying to talk to you, well, you are trying to talk to him about his messages from when he was in court. Of course your annoying boyfriend or whatever he is would come in and interrupt. “I need to speak to your office manager,” you playfully snort, while Ransom’s face falls flat. His eyes narrow at Andy. “Please.”

“I don’t want this to become a habit,” he tells Andy more than you. You aren’t the problem. Andy’s distraction and wandering eyes are the problem. “In fact, I never saw you venture this way much at all unless we needed to discuss a case. And now, you can’t stay away from my part of the office building.”

“It seems a fair trade off since I, the district attorney, come to your office for meetings. If you’d prefer, we can start conducting the meetings on the other side of the building.”

“Five minutes.”

“Ten.”

“Eight,” Ransom counters before Andy gives a nod, and holds out his hand for you. Leave it to Andy to start inserting himself now. You follow him down the long hallway before he’s dragging you into his suite, and on back to his office. His office is more your typical lawyers office, while Ransom’s is immaculate and more ornate. Stark difference between the two best friends, or as they call it, colleagues.

Andy pulls you in for an embrace, in lieu of a kiss. His thick arms wrap around you so tight, and you sink into him. It had been a particularly rough night. Night’s before your babies go to Scott’s for the weekend often are. It’s a pure terror and worry about what could happen, especially given the last time.

“You seem tense,” he says as he pulls back. “Your messages indicate that as well.”

“You’re almost too observant, you know that?” It was his job to be observant, but you aren’t one of his cases.

“And you’re avoiding my question.”

“It wasn’t a question, Andrew, that was a statement,” he sighs, pulling you back into him. Andy starts swaying the two of you to nonexistent music. Resting his face in the crook of your neck. He inhales your sweet scent deeply. If only things concerning Scott weren’t stressful, you could fully enjoy this moment.

“You can trust me to tell me,” he ends his words with a quick kiss on your sensitive skin. This is Andy, you could trust him. He’s not just any man, he’s your Andy. You just fear he’s going to try to fix everything, and unfortunately you didn’t see this being fixed.

“It was a rough night,” he hums, letting you know he is listening, but wants more. “It’s Scott’s weekend, and every time it’s his weekend, I’m left wondering how present he’s going to be. If his stupid bimbo will be there. Will they go against my wishes and she brings her damn cat around my baby? Will he come back home to me, and I have to go through his breathing treatments again? I fear that his apartment isn’t as safe for him. That cat is just one allergy, but what if my baby eats something, and Scott or Taylor don’t react fast enough?”

Your breath is so ragged as you cling to him. When was the last time you had someone just be there? Even if Andy couldn’t fix anything, just having that support is comforting. Scott was there, but was he ever there just for you? Andy doesn’t have to say anything, there’s nothing he can do. But him just being there means everything. Just to have a support system in what feels like years is a relief. Realizing you didn’t have that when you and Scott were together makes you feel stupid. You stayed, and you didn’t have this.

“Doe, I’m sorry,” he doesn’t have to be sorry, but there is a tone in his voice that shows you how sincere he is. “Tell me what you want me to do, and I will.”

“Could we just go to your place?”

“Your place is closer to Scott’s though, isn’t it?” It is. But…, “Wouldn’t it be better to be at your place in case of an emergency? We could get there faster?” True, but you didn’t want him to know that you didn’t sleep in your room. You didn’t care if Andy stayed at your house all weekend, but the embarrassment is already hitting that he’s going to see you avoid going into that room.

“You’re right,” of course he’s right, but your feelings aren’t wrong. They were right, too. Too soon your phone vibrates, and it’s probably Ransom telling you that eight minutes is up, and yes, you know. But you needed this moment, and little talk. Grabbing your phone, you answer it quickly, “Hello?!”

“Mrs. Huffman,” you hate that name with a passion, “Umm, I’m calling because it appears that someone forgot to pick up the kids.”

“What?” Anger laces through your one word question. Today is your late day working. Because you said you could. And Scott forgets the kids?

“Yeah, I know you said that it was Mr. Huffman’s day to get them this morning, but he’s not answering his phone,” you glance up at Andy who is looking at you with so much concern. “Can…”

“I’ll be right there,” she thanks you before you hang up the phone. “Scott didn’t pick up the kids. But…”

“Just bring them back here,” he’s joking. He’s got to be joking. “Listen, it’s Friday, Ransom doesn’t have any cases, and neither do I. We give that to the second ADA. Afterwards if Scott still hasn’t reached out, we’ll go take them to get dinner, and soft play. Audrey seems very concerned with that.”

“Andy…”

“Come on, let’s tell Ransom. You gotta get the kids,” obviously you had to get them. It’s bringing them back here that’s got you a bit paranoid. “It’ll be fine. They’ll be fine. We’ve got a fridge stocked with snacks. While you’re gone I’ll put any snack that Suede is allergic to up in a basket, and out of reach of him. And don’t you dare ask why I’m being nice. You need it. Go on, run and get the kids, I’ll let Ransom know what’s up.”

Standing on your tiptoes, you give him a chaste kiss in thanks before going to get your things, while Andy goes back to Ransom’s part of the office building. His friend and colleague glares at him. “I send you off with my office manager, and you return solo.”

“Scott forgot to pick up the kids,” Ransom groans, “She’s going to get them.”

“Today was her late day.”

“And she’s bringing them back here,” another groan. “Would you quit being so dramatic? They’re good kids. You won’t even notice them.”

“You’re getting involved,” Andy’s mouth curls up into a smile. “I told you not to get involved. This is the very opposite of not getting involved, Andy.”

“What was she supposed to do? He didn’t get her kids, they have to be picked up, it has to be her.”

“That’s not what I mean at all. I would have let her go, I’m not a monster,” he takes a slow calculated breath as he stares at Andy, “She’s the one, hmm? The one that got away. The one that made you never truly connect to other women? The reason that Penny or Melanie or whoever never worked out. You’re doing whatever you have to to make sure that she doesn’t get away again?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Ransom gives Andy one of his famous eye rolls. “I’m not a child. I know her, she knows me. So yeah, things are moving fast-ish. No, we haven’t slept together again. She needs friends. Her family isn’t anywhere near here, and even if she wanted to leave, she has this divorce,” Andy makes it sounds so much simpler than it is. Or maybe it’s because it is exactly this simple.

“Okay, Romeo. I’m just saying. She’s bringing them back here?” Andy smiles, nodding. He has to fix the snacks, and make sure everything is safe for Suede. “I don’t do kids.”

“Send them to my office if you have to,” Ransom was all bark, and no bite. He had no doubt that everything would be fine. And you wouldn’t be put in a bind. Yet, another thing you can add to your growing list of why Scott didn’t deserve full custody of your children.

Andy leans into Ransom’s waiting area, smiling to himself as you hold a slowly drifting asleep Suede in your lap. His face squished up against your chest while you type, and Audrey colors something on the floor. Laying on her belly with her tongue sticking out, and her knees kicking around. Andy clears his throat, and Audrey looks up at him with the biggest grin, “Andy! I wanted to see you.”

She leaves her coloring book behind as she jumps up from the floor and walks over to him, and Suede’s eyes burst open, “Na Na! Peas?” You can’t hide how happy you are for their excitement. Suede wiggles out of your arms, and Andy picks both kids up, and you gulp. Scott never quite gave you the tingling millions of butterflies in your belly just to see him hold onto your kids.

You aren’t sure how something can be both wholesome and sexy all at the same time. But the way his thick arms flex as he holds them has you feeling things, and the way he smiles at them has those butterfly wings flapping aggressively in your belly. Moments like these are so sweet and simple, and mean the world to you.

The way he gives each one attention, and not just your talkative girl. Asking them how their day was, and listening intently to every nonsensical word, and um that comes out of your baby boy’s mouth. He isn’t even looking at you for approval, he’s just being a normal father figure to them kids. This is how greetings with them after their day should be. When Audrey tries to interrupt, he tells her to wait her turn, looking at you to make sure it’s okay to correct her behavior and you nod. You hope that this isn’t an act, and you don’t feel it is. It’s natural.

How is it that a man that had no biological ties to these children can appreciate them more than their father? Scott wasn’t a terrible husband, when it was just the two of you. But his lack of involvement as a father was laughable. You were the woman, you were the one that took care of the house, and the children. All you wanted was a partner. Staring at Andy now makes you realize how wrong you chose, and just how long you made excuses for Scott.

“Andy,” Audrey finally gets his attention when Suede finishes. “If daddy doesn’t pick us up tonight, can you go eat with us? Mommy said we can eat at the pizza place, and and and go to soft play.”

Andy smiles. He starts to answer, but is distracted by a chubby little hand laying flat on his beard, and he turns to look at Suede, “Chess, pease,” you turn around quickly. You promised yourself that you’d never let your children see your emotions, but your chest fills with so much warmth and love. Feeling everything all at once. Suede only touched two people’s cheeks like that, and both you and Audrey are present. It’s like he has chosen another comfort.

You were told it could be a way for him to show comfortability and vulnerability, but he never did that with his dad. He never stayed in his dad’s arms for more than a few minutes before he was trying to reach towards you. Visiting Scott was the hardest on Suede. “Doe?”

“I’ve got to take something to Ransom. I’ll be back,” you grab some stupid piece of paper, and retreat from this. Trying to work through the emotions. On one hand you are a bit jealous that Suede found comfort in someone that isn’t you. On the other hand he had a man in his life that he trusts, and it is Andy. Your Andy.

“I need a snack.”

“Chess!”

“How does broccoli and ranch sound?” Audrey curls her lip, and Suede shakes his head no. “Well, I have you to know, that Sloane went and brought you back some safe food. And even apples.”

“Mmm, Appies!”

“With sun butter?” Andy nods, carrying the two of them to the break room. He looks back at you, and your back is still turned to him, still looking at a blank piece of paper, still bothered by something that transpired, and he can’t think of what. However, the kids were hungry, and they had to eat. He’ll come back and ask you about this later.

“Come on, it’s snack time, and then,” he lowers his voice, making it only audible for just Audrey and Suede, “I hear there’s a book about a little French girl in Sloane’s desk, you should ask her for it,” Audrey covers her mouth with her hand, giggling while she looks at Suede.

They sound so happy. You didn’t ask or beg Andy to spend time with them, he came to see them. He made sure that the unsafe foods were away from Suede. He was telling them secrets about the office. If you didn’t already have feelings for Andy that bordered on love — you’d have them now. You hated to admit that you still harbored feelings for him, but you did. And moments like these just made that blossom and get bigger until parts of you that felt so alone and hopeless, now feel like there was light at the end of the tunnel.

There was a hope that not only did your children not have to suffer, but you didn’t either. The feeling is like a hug. Simple, warm, loving, comforting, and the best thing in the world. It’s what a family should be, and should feel. Everyday is a new realization that you didn’t have these moments with your family.

“What are you doing?” Ransom asks, attempting to walk out of the door. “I don’t do tears.”

“It’s nothing.”

He blows out an exasperated puff of air. “Nothing doesn’t make you look so — weepy,” his voice is so flat, seemingly disinterested. “But if I can offer you some advice, you should trust him,” you furrow your brows as you look at him. There’s this part of you that doesn’t want to interrupt Andy and the kids, but you want to watch them. “He’s always wanted a family, and from the sounds of it, you’re the only woman he wanted it with. He doesn’t want to fuck it up, so he won’t. So let your walls down, and enjoy the moments. You’re used to his stubbornness and protectiveness, so…”

His voice trails off. He didn’t need to finish the sentence. So he won’t change. So there’s his flaw. So you’ll have to continue to deal with it. So now there’s little people for him to protect. “Oh, and Ray agreed to take your case,” that gets your attention. You straighten up. Ray would make a huge difference for you. Scott even mentioned Ray a few times during your marriage. “So…I don’t know, go make sure Barber isn’t poisoning the allergic one.”

That’s about as soft as you are going to get with Ransom, and you know it. But a quick little break to make sure ‘the allergic one’ is not being fed something he shouldn’t have, would not hurt. Ransom meant well, and you’re so thankful for him. But not as thankful as Audrey jumping up and down at Andy’s feet, while he holds Suede, squinting as he reads the ingredients on the back of a box.

“It’s a safe food,” you answer softly, and he lowers the packet of fruit snacks to Audrey. Suede gives him a little pout, but Andy is quick to grab his own pack, and open it for him.

“Go ask Sloane for her book,” he tells the two of them before they run off, and you immediately circle your arms around his waist. You couldn’t help a hug, and a quick peck to his lips, “What’s this for?”

“For being you,” his lips turn up in a smile, and he reminds you of the way he looked when he was younger. There were more freckles that dotted over his nose, and more wrinkles around his eyes. He is thicker in the best way, a luscious full beard, but the best parts of him are still the same. “I’m serious. You’re amazing with them, and I thank you for learning.”

“You gave Sloane a list of safe foods, didn’t you?” Nodding you stand on your tippy toes for another too quick kiss. Seeing him reading the back of that box was oddly sexy. You don’t regret not telling him that Sloane made a quick trip to the store, and you need to pay her for that. You could look at this man reading the ingredients daily because it was…breathtaking. The older you get, the more things of attractiveness changes. This wasn’t one you saw happening until it did.

“No word from Scott?”

“No. I’m sure he’s in court or something. I get used to not relying on him,” Andy searches your face, contemplating how to respond to that. You shouldn’t have to be used to it. That shouldn’t be normal. “It’s fine.”

“How often was it just you and the kids waiting on him?” You shrug. You didn’t want this conversation. You didn’t want to dwell in the past. Didn’t want to think of how much you let things slide with Scott because you felt you needed to make your marriage work, and he was still the one that stepped out on your family.

“I should really make sure the kids are okay,” if Andy could wrap you in a tight cocoon and make you see what you deserved, he would. He wants you to see your value to his life because to him you and the kids were not a burden. You know you’re a good mom, but did you know you are a good partner?

“I’m going to guess we’ll have the kids for dinner though,” we. He loves hearing you say we, especially when they’re involved. If he could fully take Scott out of the equation, he would. Not only did he not deserve them, or your kindness, Andy didn’t mind having them always around.

He definitely didn’t mind people making comments about what a beautiful family he had. Or even that his son looked just like him, and how he’s so good with them. He didn’t want to correct them. People never questioned it because that’s exactly what you were becoming. He knows he should slow down, and not get too attached or ahead of himself. Not growing up with a father himself, he’s always craved a son where he could be the dad that he wanted.

He sighs, it would only be a matter of time before Scott completely lost interest. Men like him only wanted to use the kids as a weapon for you. He was using custody as a way for you to worry. Asserting his dominance wherever he could. Prick. He’s an asshole. He just hopes that Scott sees who has been spending time with his kids, and just how happy they are, and their mama.

—

Ransom slumps down into his chair, hands reaching towards a file on his desk when he hears tittering, and he bends at his waist to look under his desk, “What are you doing down there?”

Audrey giggles, popping another fruit chew in her mouth, and then a third hand points at the book that’s in her lap. Suede peeks his body around his sister’s smiling up at the man, “I’m not doing a very good job at reading. There’s lots of words.”

“Chess.”

Ransom smiles, nodding his head, “You like to play chess?”

“No no, that um — that’s how he says yes. He says it a lot. It’s easy for him. Tell him Suedey.”

“Chess,” his hand presses over his mouth and he giggles, having to sit up and hold his tummy with how much he is laughing. They are cute kids, even if Ransom doesn’t do kids.

“See, mister. He loves it. Do you think you can read this book for us,” the barely visible smile on Ransom’s face fades, and his head slightly shakes no, “I can’t read, and my mommy is working, and,” she crawls out from under the desk, laying the book on the shiny wood of Ransom’s ostentatious desk.

“Do you think mommy can take us to Paris one day?” Audrey places a hand under the desk, helping her brother up, and Suede places two arms up to Ransom. “He wants you to hold him. You can say no,” Ransom takes a moment to ponder before lifting the toddler up into his lap, but Audrey stands beside him, opening up the book to the first page.

“It has a lot of words,” her finger drags under the words, and Ransom stares at her curiously. Even though she is tiny, you can see her squinting, and sounding out a few of the letters. Reminds him of his childhood, a boy too young, forced to be above children his age academically. “Would Andy take us to Paris with mommy?”

How is he even supposed to answer that? He could put a bug in Andy’s ear that she wants to go to Paris. He could ask Andy to take her to a French restaurant, but he can’t possibly say that he would take them and their mom. “Do you like Andy?”

“Chess.”

“Uh huh. Mommy smiles when he’s around,” the little girl turns to look at Ransom, and he’s shocked by how much she looks like you, especially in the eyes. The exact shape, and even the different flecks of colors. “Is Andy like Taylor is to daddy?”

“I don’t know what that means,” he turns his head to see the little boy smiling at him. He lifts his chunky little hand, and slightly touches his cheek before moving it back down to his lap and giggles at Ransom. “What do you mean by your question?”

“I think Andy wants to kiss mommy,” it is a simple enough sentence that holds a lot more weight than she realizes. Ransom smiles, shrugging at her. “She didn’t smile with daddy like she does with Andy,” Audrey turns to look at Ransom, smiling at him, and then her brother. “I like him, too. But can you read this?” Her little chubby finger taps on the book a bit aggressively, “I’m sorry, booky. Please, Ansom?”

“Ransom.”

“I said that.”

“Ann!” Suede throws both arms in the hair, and giggles. “Ann!”

“Is he always like this?” Audrey covers her hand with her mouth, giggling again, and she nods. “Fine. Let’s read the Paris book,” he clears his throat, making both kids giggle once more. “In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines.”

“Ran,” opening the door, you stop abruptly, and all three of them look up at you. “Oh, I was wondering where you two were. Come on, we should leave Ransom alone,” all three pout. Even Ransom, confusing you immensely. He told you he didn’t do kids. He didn’t hate them, but didn’t want to be around them. And now he’s reading to them with Suede and his sticky fingers in his lap.

“They're fine. Maybe bring some popcorn in here or something?” Audrey shakes her head no. “Why not?”

“We’ll choke,” she deadpans. “Those scratchy things in the middle. Andy buys us the puffy ones, so we don’t have to worry about choking.”

“Does he? That Andy sure does try to make life easier,” clearing your throat, Ransom looks up at you smiling. “We’re reading about the Paris girl. I think Audrey and Suede deserve macarons.”

“Suede can’t. There’s eggs,” Audrey beat you to it. She is his little keeper, and so protective of him. You are sure she keeps Scott in line with him, even if it isn’t her job. “Mommy, did daddy call?” You shake your head no, thinking she’s going to be sad. “Oh yay! So Andy is taking us to pizza and soft play for sure?”

“We’ll see. Read your Paris girl book. It won’t be long until it’s leaving time. And behave. You want me to leave the door open, Ransom?” He shakes his head, and shoos you out the door. You did not see this happening. Ransom said he didn’t care much for kids, and here he is being all sweet and loving with yours. You wouldn’t tell him, but it suited him, even if it was just as the fun uncle that could give them back at the end of the day.

Even though Scott brought you out here away from your friends and family, you feel the need to give him a quick and silent thank you. It brought you to Andy, and now it appears you are growing an inner circle. People to rely on. People you can trust with your kids. People that don’t look at them like a burden. People that cared. What felt like your world had ended, just ensured a new start that you needed.

“Suede,” your little boy quickly sits down in his seat, offering a sweet smile to Andy. He had already been told once not to stand up in the seat. Andy’s voice is soft, but stern enough that Suede knows he needs to keep his bottom in the seat. “Thank you.”

“Chess,” he holds up his hand out for Andy who fists bumps him in return. Blinking his eyes hard at him before smiling up at you. Leaning in for a hug.

“Was your dinner good, buddy?”

“Chess,” Andy questioned you with the pizza at first, until you told him about this place that was very accommodating for Suede’s allergies. Suede turns to look at Andy, but his eyes go upwards instead. A moment of unease flashes in his eyes, and he leans into your body, “Mama, no.”

Following his eyesight, you catch Scott freeze, seeing the back of Andy’s head, and Audrey sitting beside him. He never looks like he's in a good mood, but now he’s completely unsavory. “What’s going on?”

“Daddy,” Audrey looks at you, and then up at Andy, her happy face now looking sad. “Uhh, Andy is taking us to soft play.”

“Daddy is really tired, and they’re closed. I need to talk with you outside,” he gives a point towards you. Of course he needs to talk to you. Showing up unannounced, and Andy is with you. His nostrils flare a moment with the impending anger that’s lighting up his face. Talk really means he wants to berate you.

“It’s not closed, we saw it. Andy said…”

“Audrey,” while he doesn’t yell, his voice raises, and you grit your teeth. Friday night, and they were looking forward to fun. Leave it to Scott to be a disappointment. Again. Wiping your hands on your napkin, you grab up Suede, handing him over to Andy.

“What the hell are you doing?” Scott turns to look at you as Andy pulls Suede out of your arms. It is becoming harder and harder not to want to scream at him, especially when he uses foul language in front of the children.

“You wanted to talk to me. So Andy can stay with the kids,” the man that has spent every single evening with you and the kids, stares up at you. His free hand rubs up your thigh, and he offers a sad smile, “I’ll be right back,” and his eyes move over to Scott, nodding his hey.

Oh he’s angry. Not nearly as angry as you are for his five hour late pickup. Didn’t even tell you he was coming, just showed up. You can see how angry he is as you follow him to the parking lot. You don’t like to compare the two, but Andy would never deny fun for the kids. He had a long tiring day as well.

You’re barely out of the restaurant when Scott rounds towards you, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Feeding our children dinner since you were late.”

“I was working, and you know exactly what I mean,” you blink slowly. If he wants to say something, he can, but you won’t be offering up any information. “Fucking Andy Barber? The damn DA, is this some competition,” you scoff, there was never a competition. “And you left our kids with him.”

“So you wanted them to hear you talk like this to me?” Scott sighs. You knew he wouldn’t answer the question. You’re always the one that is wrong, while he’s always the one that is wronged in some way. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You sure did move on fast?” You laugh at him, shaking your head as you turn to walk back inside. The audacity. He was moving on and the two of you were very much together. You didn’t have a say in the matter when he was laying underneath the damn babysitter. “Did you ever love me?”

“You were the one that cheated, Scott. You came home early, so you could fuck our babysitter in our bed. Did you even think about me? Or about how our daughter would feel? Suede is too young to understand, but Audrey knows you left her mom to be with the babysitter. Love was never our strong suit though, was it?” The stronger your love for Andy grows, the more you realized Scott and you had been going through the motions. Was there ever any love?

Rolling your eyes, you turn away from him. If this is the only conversation he wants to have, it’s useless. You’re doing nothing wrong. You hadn’t even slept with Andy since that first night. And even if you did, you two were legally separated and going through a divorce. “Suede could be older and still wouldn’t understand.”

“What did you say?” don’t turn around, and don’t look at him. He makes you sick.

“You heard me,” no, you’re not quite you did.

“And what do you mean by that?”

“He’s never going to be as advanced as Audrey,” if it wouldn’t hurt your case for custody, you’d claw his eyes out. If he wants to blame you for the marriage failing, you don't care, but to say one damn thing about your child is another thing. “You coddle him.”

“I hate you,” always your fault. Suede’s ‘delays’ as Scott called them, will forever be your fault. He was supposed to be his ‘boy’ and now he looks at your son like he’s a mistake. A failure. And he’s two.

“Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart. Now let me get my kids from your dildo.”

“Why are you so mean to him? Why do you put so much pressure on your son? He’s a baby.”

“No, he’s not,” you have to look at him now. You need to understand why he can’t just be happy with who Suede is, instead of trying to make him who he wants him to be.

“He just turned two. He is a baby. He wears diapers, his vocabulary is improving, but he is a baby. If you — if you don’t want him why do you insist on full custody? Why do you rip him out of my arms, crying, if you don’t want him? You don’t even like him. I’m not even sure you like Audrey. This a damn power grab, you’re using my babies as a weapon to hurt me. Just leave him with me and…”

“Go on, say it. Andy. Is he enjoying the bed that I fucked that baby boy in you in? You want to act like he’s so fucking grand. Sloppy damn seconds,” you take a deep breath in, wondering how he views you as sloppy seconds but not himself. Or even if Taylor is someone’s sloppy seconds. Pig. “Just trying to replace me because I left you. You even went after a goddamn lawyer,” of course he’d hit you with low blows, and as much as it infuriates you, it hurts more how he is with your baby.

“Answer the questions. You’re changing the subject, and I’m talking about our son. If you don’t want my baby, and he’s so difficult with his allergies, and his separation anxiety, then leave him with his mom!”

“You created a monster! Taylor can’t even deal with him most of the time because all he says is ‘chess’ or ‘my mama at’. Separation anxiety? No, you baby the boy, and made him rely on you so you think it’ll give you a leg to stand on with custody. Audrey was never that difficult, hell she was potty trained at his age. She’s starting to read now. And he’s…”

“He’s a fucking baby, Scott! Just let him stay with me, please!” You’re not above begging when it comes to your children, especially if Scott is getting them when he’s angry.

“No. Because if he stays with you then Audrey — you know how she is with her brother. They don’t like to be separated,” it’s always about the easy child. His pride and joy. The one he whispered to her about how she would become a lawyer someday. Another thing that annoyed you, pressure on a four year old. “They both are coming with me, as per our agreement. So let me get my kids.”

“Can you at least take them to the soft play, and trampolines for thirty minutes?”

“What is the damn deal with soft play? That’s all they ever want to do.”

“Because they’re kids, and they have fun! They want to play with their dad, is that such a wrong thing?” You turn into the restaurant, watching Andy calmly talk to your world. Such a beautiful picture in contrast to what their parents are doing outside. Suede lifts his chubby little hand, and holds it against Andy’s cheek, petting his beard. He waits until Andy smiles at him before pulling it away, and he snuggles into his chest. That was a father’s love. Not whatever the hell Scott is doing.

Despite what Scott wants to imply, there’s nothing wrong with Suede. His learning is delayed compared to Audrey’s, but from his doctors to his teachers, he is just a normal little boy. There’s a sadness that wraps around you knowing that Suede has more comfort with Andy than his own father. A man he’s known his whole life is nothing compared to the man that he barely knows.

“Does Andy play with them?” you look at Scott, and for the first time in a long time, there’s a sadness in his eyes, but it flares back into his competitive composure. If he is so concerned with Andy and the kids, he’s the only one that can fix it. It wasn’t Andy’s problem.

“We both do,” you answer solemnly before opening the door to the restaurant. You aren’t going to listen to him bully you or speak ill of his son anymore. You want him to suffer with the reality that his son is already replacing him with a man that is paying attention to him. You and Andy hadn’t been doing, whatever this is, long, and already Suede treated him like his father.

“Come on,” you try to smile as you reach for Suede. “It’s time to go to daddy’s house.”

“Mama, no,” this is the part that breaks you every time. Hearing him beg you not to make him go to his dad’s grinds your soul in half. You hate thinking that he may blame you, may think you’ve abandoned him. So instead, you just don’t look into his eyes.

“Audrey, grab your coloring sheet if you want to,” she reaches for her sheet as you grab up Suede, and she and Andy scoot out of the booth. Andy has never been part of a switch between you and Scott. It’s also why you preferred he picked them up from daycare. The extra hours with you made things difficult for them to leave. It’s him leaving you that seems to be the issue.

“Mama, no,” you can’t even meet his eyes as he touches your cheek. You know Scott didn’t hurt Suede. You also know he didn’t enjoy him or appreciate him, and with Audrey it is nonstop pressure to read, and write, and whatever thing he felt like she needed to be ahead for. Audrey has to be the best academically, and judging by the earlier conversation, he has no faith in Suede.

“Mama, pease!” He sniffles, cuddling into your chest, and you kiss on top of his head. Bit by bit part of your heart crumbles. The part that you gave your children, and it’s every other weekend. Audrey grabs Andy’s hand as you walk back outside. Getting an eye roll from Scott as soon as he sees Andy with his prized possession. His daughter. “Mama, no,” the first sign of his cries, broken words. “Me tay.”

“It’s stay, Suede. And you can’t stay because it’s my weekend,” Suede screams as Scott pulls at his body. Trying to take him from you. “Suede, enough!” He pulls harder, and his voice reaches a screeching high, shattering that part of your heart as his body shivers from anguish.

“Mommy will get you Sunday.”

“You’re only making this worse,” you hate him, and it has nothing to do with what he did to you, it’s what he’s doing to your children. “Suede, you’re fine,” you bite your tongue, holding back your own tears as he kicks. Thrashing around while Scott buckles him in, and one name on his lips. Mama. Over and over it tugs at your heart. Your baby needs you, and you can’t comfort him without causing more of a scene.

It’s one of the hardest things that you have to do. Ignoring him because it can get worse. You kneel down in front of Audrey, and she jumps into your arms giving you the biggest hug, “Will you make sure that Suedey is okay when you get in the car?”

“Yes, mommy. I’m sorry.”

“Baby, it’s okay. I’ll see you Sunday before supper, okay?” Audrey nods before she walks to her side of the car, getting in her seat herself, but Scott goes to buckle her. She extends a hand over to her crying brother, and more pieces of your heart break.

“Can you text or call and let me know when he calms down?”

“Yeah,” Scott answers shortly, closing Audrey’s door before he goes to the driver’s side. “Guess we can’t go to soft play with a baby that won’t stop crying,” bastard. Blaming Scott’s mistakes on Suede.

“I’ll take them Sunday,” Scott glares at Andy, and you are just numb. The teachers told you that while Suede was sad when his dad picked him up, there was no crying. You hate him for making you hear this. “Doe, let’s go.”

You’re not a person that wants to get even very often, but if you could make him feel like you did right now, you would. And if it is the fact that Andy already said he’d take them out Sunday after pickup that makes Scott hurt, so be it. It kills you to hear his muffled cries still. The fact that he had a good day, and evening, only for it to end with him in so much turmoil only hurts worse. You give a silent prayer that he can soothe himself soon. Scott never liked long crying sessions. He wasn’t patient enough to handle it.

“Your place or mine?”

“I don’t care as long as you hold me,” he opens up your car door, and you jump in, finally letting your tears cascade over your cheeks. You’re thankful you thought to leave Andy’s car at the house because you wouldn’t be able to drive right now. Everything in your body aches. Your his mother, and you couldn’t hold him until his tears stop. He is crying for you, and you have to walk away from him.

“He’s so mean to my baby. I don’t know if he hates him or if he’s ashamed of him,” you suck in a ragged breath, trying to calm your tears. “Suede’s always had health issues. He was born too early, it was a difficult pregnancy, his allergies were caught before he was a year old, now they’re talking about his vision, but he’s just a baby. And he’s usually so happy and full of light, but I think Suede knows that Scott doesn’t love him like he loves Audrey. Why are my kids the ones that have to suffer?”

“Audrey soothes Suede, but she’s a baby herself. She shouldn’t have to. They don’t have fun with their dad. And I don’t know how I could have been so wrong in a father for them. I just — I don’t care about me anymore, I just want them to be okay, and I fear that Suede is just forgotten there. A mistake,” god you hate reliving that day. That moment when that asshole murmured he was a mistake.

“What?” Andy’s voice is so hard. It’s a dangerous timbre.

“He said that Suede was a mistake,” you rest your head on the back of the seat. “It was that day that whatever I felt towards Scott was completely erased. I hated him and it took four words for me to hate him. My kids aren’t mistakes. They’re my everything, and if I have to feel this gut wrenching pain, so they don’t have to, I don’t care anymore. I’ll deal with Scott, but that — that is so hard to deal with, and it makes me feel so small every time because I can’t fix it.”

His hands grip onto the steering wheel too tight. His eyes staring out onto the road before taking a deep breath. He removes a hand, and places it on your thigh. You don’t smile, but you pick up his hand and hold it with both of yours. Weaving your delicate fingers in his, while your right hand clings to his so tightly. He didn’t have to say anything, but you know he’s offering to be your strength.

“I’m tired of this constant fight, and this constant fear that my baby is going to be forgotten, and neglected, and do you know what happens to unattended children? They get into things. Certain things he can get into could kill him,” your breath stutters in your throat. “I don’t think that they let them use the phone to call me as much as they want. It’s just another way to separate us. I call every day. Multiple times a day. Scott maybe calls every other day..”

Lifting up his hand, he kisses over your knuckles. “I just wish I could talk to them before bed, so I knew that they were going to sleep without tears in their eyes,” he kisses your knuckles again as you pull into the driveway. Another long weekend, but this time you didn’t have to spend it alone. Even a little bit of a distraction will help.

“Thank you,” your voice is so hoarse as Andy gets out of the car. He opens your door, undoes your buckle, and lifts you up into his arms. Letting you koala around him as he carries you into the house. It’s the most comforting gesture. Days like this walking is difficult, and he takes that responsibility from you. His comfort couldn’t change anything, but it can give you comfort and support when you just want to stare at nothing.

“I want you in something comfortable in five minutes, and then we’re going to be lazy on the couch the rest of the evening. Audrey told me she was sad because she wanted a slumber party with me, you, Suede, and Ann,” he smirks as you lift your head off his shoulder. Of course he’d get a kick out of Audrey asking him to spend the night.

“Ann?”

“I think that’s what they’ve decided to call Ransom. Go on. Get comfy. I’m just wearing sweatpants, and a t-shirt,” perfect clothes to cuddle him in. Your eyes get heavy just thinking about it. Drop offs like that are draining, and you want to sleep until you get to see them again.

“Old and worn in?”

“It’s the only way to wear it. Go on,” reluctantly you walk away from him. Opening up your bedroom door, and freeze. It’s the same time every time. That stupid blonde girl with her hands firmly on your husband’s chest while her body sucks him into her. No condom. You thought you had been seeing things, but he confirmed it. No condom. And lucky for him, he didn’t transfer anything to you.

So many things you couldn’t forgive him for. He is selfish. He’s disgusting. And you hate him. You hate that he’s the one that is in your kids’ life, and you don’t even know if there will ever be a time that you don’t hate him. You sigh as those thick arms wrap around your waist, and you lean your head back on his shoulder.

“It’s where you caught them,” Andy doesn’t ask, but you nod your head. You hate coming into this room. Everything about it reminds you of that day. He lit candles. There was soft music. And he was staring up at her like she was a goddess. His hands gripped her hips so tightly. Did he ever look at you liked that?

Andy’s lips pepper kisses down your jaw. “When was the last time you slept in here?”

“The night before it happened,” he lets you go. Starting to pull off the clothes from the day. His fingers glide over your skin like the strokes of a paintbrush. Getting you completely naked before he bends down, and pulls out his shirt from the day, and slips it on you.

“Grab you some panties, or don’t,” there’s something so solid in his voice as he walks over to the bed, and yanks off the duvet. Tossing pillows to the side of it. Ripping at every linen that you split tears on as you made the bed one last time. Ending with a pile of bedding, and then he grunts, pulling the mattress off to the side.

“We’re going bed shopping this weekend,” you gasp as you look at him. “Either we get you a new fucking bed, or we buy a house. What do you want to do?”

Kiss him. Make love with him. Why was getting rid of the bed so simple? That makes perfect sense to remove the bed. “Andy, I…”

“I already told you I was going to marry you. And when I do, I won’t be living in this house. But temporarily I need you to sleep in a bed. So, are we going bed shopping or buying a house this weekend?”

“Bed.”

“There’s my girl,” he grins, and you take a few steps to close the gap between you. Wrapping yourself into his warmth. “When you can’t do that anymore, I will be there. I hated that, and I can’t imagine what you’re going through. He’s a callous man, but he won’t win. I may only be a step dad to them, but,” he stutters. Pulling you even closer to him. “I love them, just like I love you. I will fight for both of you, and I understand court order. So I have to be productive where I can. And this is where I start, making sure you get good sleep.”

“Thank you,” you whimper, and he lets you melt into him. Soaking up his scent, and his strength. You needed him, not as another parent, but him. Just to be with you. “I love you, too.”

You let all those walls tumble down because you can’t continue to keep them up. You are one person, and you’re tired of fighting, and this isn’t a fight that was worth it. Why can you not love Andy? Why should you not just let him in, and trust him the way that you did Scott? Because being strong for your kids was making your other walls weaker. Instead of putting up boundaries from Andy, you want him inside your walls as added protection.

“We’ll buy a bed,” you laugh. It’s silly, but it’s freeing. Freeing to admit to yourself and to Andy you love him. You want him, and you don’t have to pretend anymore.

“And a dog.”

“No.”

“There’s dogs that detect allergies.”

“No.”

“Fine, when we buy us a house that we both, and the kids adore, and it has extra space just in case,” you look up at him and how adorable he is with his hope. You couldn’t have kids, but you wish you could give Andy at least one biological child. “We’ll buy a house. After the divorce. Deal?”

“You got a deal.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

[miifu666]

Ive shown a bit of what Modern! Suklha would be like in Lego Monkie Kid AU :D. But i also wanna expand more on them!!

⋆˙⟡ — CW : Spoiler, Ooc characters, straying from the main plot :" im only on season 4

LMK! Suklha

An infamous Lawyer. Shook the internet from becoming a Symbol of protection and wisdom into your average money making lawyer.

Almost never interact with the cast even during LBD invasion, she was buried deep in paperworks of trials that she needed to do.

Only came up once or twice as a guidance and to tell the crew what to do incase a certain situation comes, might even give them a predictive situation that'll come to fruition

Barely anyone knows she's pursuing a divorce with Wukong, shes actively trying to chase him to sign the papers. He keeps stalling it.

Wukong never told anyone about her, including MK. Focusing more on spending his pension rather than the relationship he has. Which is the main reason she wanted a divorce, the relationship barely benefit her.

"This is your successor?" Suklha stared at the kid, circling around him like a predator. Her eyes nitpick every single scars and strand on his head, Suklha let out a small humm as she picks off a branch from his hair. "Atleast you picked a human.. they were always more eager to learn than us" her snakelike tail rattled near MK. "Isn't that right, little boy?"

"Aren't you a human?" Her voice echoed.

MK's smile drooped down, feeling his teeth chattering against eachother. This Blue toned woman is hardly giving him an easy time, unlike the TV shots and interviews he's seen. His once proud figure shrinks down, like a little boy fearing the wrath of his own mother. He knows this feeling before... the hopelessness he felt when fighting Lady Bone Demon. It was all too familiar.

"Okayyy! C'mon bud lets get you home" Wukong steps in. Putting a good amount of distance between MK and a confused Suklha. "Maybe youre not up to meeting a gal like her.."

Lmk! Suklha, who Wukong still has feelings for yet runs away from the guilt of neglecting her for far too long. He's older, wiser but he's still bad at confronting his own faults. Especially a recent one.

Remember the book that Suklha created to fuck around with? Yeah the book where it holds the knowledge to everything and anything in the universe, reading the first few sentences can break your sanity? Yeah wukong has it now. Its his now. Its probably the only thing Suklha wanted to keep from the divorce.

Wukong who always tries to talk her out of it ever since he had MK, hiding the paper before planning a meet with her. Despite knowing the words he needed to say, His arrogant attitude kept the apology still.

Suklha, who despite being his Talent lawyer. Tried to keep the relationship professional, for the sake of Wukong's image and her own. Despite joining the mortal realm and its trends, gossips is still the one thing she has an annoyance about.

"YOU!"

The clicking of heavy heels reverberated through the floor, just as the Blue toned Lady huffed out towards the Monkey king that appeared in the doorway.

"SETTLE THE DIVORCE PAPER RIGHT NOW!"

There's a quaint silence as her booming voice rumbled through the gaming room. Monkie kid stared in agape, the figure of his once singular mentor and predecessor being a lone wolf is shattered as the Lady infront of him continued speaking. Mei and the others watched in awe, realizing a dramatic moment is happening in front of their eyes.

"W-wait! Peaches i-!"

"I dont accept any delay, sign. It. Now"

MK looked at the panicked face of his mentor, seeing the once powerful sage looking so defeated was a new experience he'll never forget. Different from the many times he's seen, in amidst of battle Wukong still held hope in his eyes. Now.. its just despair and worry.

"Uh... whats going on?"

Monkey king who despite trying to fix his own relationship problem, is also spreading the words of how meeting with Suklha means "you're a target for the devil". He glares at MK everytime he talks about the news, seeing the familiar antennas and golden rimmed glasses.

Monkey king who turns into an old man who yells at children in his yard everytime he notices MK interest in meeting Suklha the supposed "secret love interest" who sends him mountains of "love" letters. Definitely not about the contract he ignored and divorce notices

He doesn't want anyone helping him in this problem, anyone who has an interest towards it is just showing him how incapable he is. His own pride is stopping him from asking for help.

Monkey king who rarely have time to train MK so he can focus on talking to Suklha, only to have his own student stepping in and tried his best to save the marriage. From sending flowers, free noodles, sharing Wukong's view and made a whole love declaration from Wukong to Suklha in the middle of her Trial.

"Lady Suklha!! Its a gift from the monkey kiing~!" MK knocked on the high tech door, using his legs to hold up the large bouquet he bought at the florist. He made sure the handwriting isn't similar to his, he even added a monkey king doodle at the end of the card.

"MK..." Suklha greeted him, the door opening to reveal a drained and sleep deprived lawyer. Holding the casefile on her other hand in a mess. Her eyes widened while she let out a gasp at the bouquet, the casefile finally meeting its end at the floor. The bouquet is huge! bigger than her!

"Seee, Monkey king kinda dumped this on me today. He said he was afraid of seeing you getting mad over him sooo!" MK grinned widely, moving the bouquet to his hips "here ya go!"

Suklha hesitantly accepted the Bouquet, a look of discomfort grazing her features. "Thank you... MK" "nonono it was monkey ki-!" "You think i dont know my own imbecilic husband's handwriting?" MK looked at the worn out Lady, her mouth smiled gently despite the harsh words coming out of it.

"Maybe if you want to give me something in place of Wukong, remember to use Peaches or Wifey. He uses that more than... ehhh.. caterpillar?" Suklha squinted her eyes, holding the card closer to make sure what she's reading. MK looked at her reaction, is it another failure? The hundredth time where she would still say no when he ask her to talk to wukong? He's been going back and forth between her house and flower fruit mountain just to get the two to an understanding!

Atleast the Monkey King said yes if Suklha di—

"Fine ill go talk to him tomorrow"

"HE SAID IF YOU- wait what did you say again?"

MK stared dumbfounded, his stupid reaction earned a tired chuckle from Suklha.

"Ill go talk to him, thank you for your efforts MK. You're a good kid." She tried to hold the bouquet in one hand, leaving the other to ruffle his hair "although not mine, you do act like a child whose parents are in a fight..."

"Hey!!"

After MK help again, Wukong and Suklha has a better time communicating with eachother. Heck, Wukong likes to stop by just to check up on her and ask her out to go somewhere. Spend a quality time, despite her busy schedule.

MK who feels proud of himself whenever he comes to Flower Fruit Mountain only to meet with a frantic Wukong thats trying to choose between his red flaming glasses or pink hawaiian shirt to pack on his trip with Suklha.

Even after fixing her failing marriage, Suklha kept her friendship with Macaque. Making sure to have a night out together just so they can sit in her garden and talk about whatever that comes in mind. Giving both a sense of relief for both of them, to finally relax after a hectic day. Having someone to talk to despite their own insecurities thats keeping them both alone walking through the path of hardships.

Lastlyy, she holds the world's most complete library. Almost the old-school version of the cloud, sometimes she even hold a slight resentment at how everyone overlook libraries nowadays but well. There's a secret bookshelf that has the portal to any timeline and anything you need, disguised as normal and boring books. Kept in a dusted shed that has more cobwebs. As long as you have Suklha's permission, the books will open itself to you. If not, even with the power of Sandy and Wukong. It'll keep itself shut.

Artwork ©️ Miifu666

Writing ©️ Miifu666

[guiltyasdave]

heaven can't help me now

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You're afraid Dave might not like you as much as you like him. ...Meanwhile, Dave is afraid of the same thing. (They're idiots okay)

word count: 6.5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, phone sex, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, biting, cream pie, use of panties as a gag, orgasm denial, pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, throwing around these ideas with you is so fun, i love you <3

taylor swift said “what if he’s written mine on my upper thigh” and i took that personally

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading! <3 (and listening to me freak out about this on a daily basis)

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Dave regrets the message as soon as the small text underneath it switches from delivered to read. 

He knows that he’s been cruel to you, he could see the confusion and hurt written all over your face when he drove you home. But he has to be the responsible one, the adult in this situation. The one who’s able to hold back. Nothing should have happened between you and him, not once, let alone twice. He shouldn’t indulge in this, shouldn’t give you hope. 

He has always looked down on men who were with women much younger than them. Midlife crisis. Not able to have a relationship with someone on the same maturity level. 

That’s not who he is. He understands that the reason why you’re attracted to him lies at least partially in your relationship with your father, and he won’t take advantage of that. It’s not who he is and it’s not what you deserve. 

You’re gonna go back to college in a few weeks and he can pretend that none of this ever happened. You’re gonna meet a nice boy your age, become a lawyer, get married and live your life the way you’re supposed to. Eventually, the memory of you writhing underneath him, your voice so sweet and needy in your desperation, surely won’t be as vivid as it is right now.

But then he found your panties between the cushions of his couch, still damp with your arousal, still smelling of you. His mind started wandering, conjuring images that he should be ashamed of. The things he could do to you, the things he could show you. 

It’s like he’s lost in a haze, stroking his throbbing cock to fantasies of you, all the depraved shit that some respectful fellow student would never do, but that he knows you crave. He hears your whimpers so clearly in his head, pictures your face, so pretty begging him for things only he knows how to give you, until he releases himself all over the lacy bit of fabric that’s clutched between his fingers. 

But now you’re not answering, and shame is swirling in his stomach, surely now he’s overstepped, why did he even think– 

His racing thoughts are interrupted by the quiet ping of his phone and a message from you. Just a photo, no text. 

His eyes widen, taking in the image. He can’t see your face, only the shape of your tits, already so familiar to him, covered in dark, lacy fabric. Exactly the same color, exactly the same pattern as the fabric that he soiled and photographed to send to you.

You put on the matching bra for him, he realizes. Which is probably why it took you longer than usual to answer, you had to get into the lingerie and put yourself all prettily on display for him. He drinks in the shape of you, the skin that he knows would feel so soft underneath his touch, the swell of your breasts, the nipples hidden behind lace, how they would harden for him, how you would squirm if he–

Desire starts coursing through him again, and he feels like a teenager, reduced to this by just a photo. His thumb finds your name on the display almost instinctively.

“Fuck, baby.”

The rasp of his voice hits your ear as soon as you accept the call. Your heart had been hammering away inside your chest since you hit send on the photo. 

“You like it?” 

You hate how needy you sound, how desperate for his approval. David exhales sharply and you wish you were with him again.

“Trust me, I like it very much.” 

Your cheeks heat at his tone. He blows all other thoughts out of your head. You forget how rejected you felt, how you told yourself you wouldn’t let it happen again. It doesn’t matter, not when he talks to you like this. You whisper a thank you and he chuckles. 

“Are you in bed, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, considering the words resting on the top of your tongue. Deciding to take the leap. “Wish you were here too.”

You don’t need to see his face to know how he purses his lips, how he slowly curls them into a smirk.

“Mhm? What would you like me to do if I was?” 

Your face burns hotter. 

“I– Touch me, use your fingers to–” 

He groans, a rich, deep sound in your ear. You’re still sore, but your fingertips ghost down your body anyway, chasing the need that’s building up between your legs again. You gasp when they find your clit, already swollen and covered in your slick. 

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yes, please David, I need–”

“Don’t worry, baby. I got you.” 

He keeps talking to you, low murmurs in your ear, directing your fingers over your body. He doesn’t let up until you’ve come twice, until he’s reduced you to a whimpering mess without even being there. 

He doesn’t apologize for earlier, not directly at least. You didn’t expect him to. In a twisted way, that you’re not sure anyone but the two of you would understand, this was his apology. 

You’re not sure what changed his mind, but he doesn’t go back to his distant self afterwards. Maybe he’s come to the same realization as you. That neither of you is going to be able to stay away. 

He’s on your mind constantly, you catch yourself checking your phone for new messages way too often and smiling down at the screen whenever he’s texting you. You know that you shouldn’t act like this, shouldn’t give him that much power in your mind. But it feels so good, to be seen, to be wanted like that. 

You’re both busy; he’s working on an important case and you’re in desperate need to catch up on job applications and college work, which you’ve neglected over the past few days, as your father is quick to remind you. 

But you keep exchanging messages, keep sharing hushed whispers at night. It never lets up, the thrill of his voice guiding your fingers and hearing the sounds that he makes when he’s putting his hands on himself. Knowing that it’s you, the thought of you that elicits them. 

You’re having dinner with your father, who is home earlier than most days, the brightly lit dining room reflecting off the massive windows, when the bubble bursts. 

“You remember Dave, right? From the country club?”

You freeze, your fork hovering in the air over your plate. He knows, your mind screams. No, there’s no way he would know. 

You fight hard to appear nonchalant, to not let your face betray you. You nod, humming questioningly in a way that you hope sounds innocent enough. 

“I told you how he got divorced recently, didn’t I? It’s been hard on him, poor fella…” 

Your dad sighs and shakes his head. You furrow your brow, at a complete loss where this conversation might be going. 

“Well, guess who got him a date?! Cheryl from the office is single and I realized, she’s perfect for him! An amazing match. He never goes out, always been a bit of a loner, I guess… But I set them up and they went out last night! Great, huh?” 

Your mind is running a mile a minute. You force a weak smile, lifting your head to meet your father’s proud grin. 

“Y-yeah, dad. Great,” you echo. You feel hollow.

He leans back in his chair, looking extremely pleased with himself. 

“Looks like I’m gonna have to play matchmaker for you too, eventually, with the way things are going, hm?” 

Under different conditions, the snide remark about your dating life and how he’s never been even remotely happy with any guy you had dared to bring home, would sting a lot more. Right now though, you’re reeling from the fact that David went out with another woman last night. 

“Sure,” you whisper. “May I please be excused?” 

You don’t wait for an answer, already pushing back from the table and rushing up the stairs. Back in your room, you grab your phone, scrolling through your past messages. You didn’t hear from him last night, which you hadn’t found weird at the time, but it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now. 

Maybe he finally realized that someone his age would be much better suited for him. A real woman, not some little girl who still goes to school, calls him drunk in the middle of the night and can’t stand up against her father. Of course that’s not what he wants. 

You pace in your room, thoughts running through your head. Do you confront him? You never talked about it, never discussed exclusivity, but still… You don’t want anyone else and you had thought that he wouldn’t either.

After tossing and turning in your bed for hours, you decide not to ask David about it, to not contact him at all. Maybe that’s for the best. Save him the trouble of letting you down. It’s like a weight pulling under, the uncertainty and fear of this being it tying itself into a tight knot in your stomach. But you’ve been desperate enough for him already, you try to reason, you need to stop embarrassing yourself by running after him. 

He texts you the next day, sounding just the same way he always does. You can’t bring yourself to not reply to him at all, but it’s clipped, one-sentence answers, which he picks up on soon enough. His name lights up your phone as you’re hunched over your desk in your bedroom, pondering over an essay that you’re supposed to write over the break. 

“Hello?” 

“Sweetheart.” The deep smoothness of his voice travels from the speaker right under your skin, holding you under his spell the way he always does. “Is something wrong?”

You bite your lip, muttering a no in reply. You sound like a petulant teenager, everything that you don’t want him to see you as.

“Now why do I not believe that?”

You hear his smile in the way he sounds. You want to see him so badly, want to be on the receiving end of that smile. You wonder if Cheryl from the office got to see it last night too. If he’s given her all the parts of him that he’s given you. 

“Dunno.” There’s a sting in your voice, not unlike the sting that you feel piercing through your heart at the thought of him with someone else. 

Dave frowns at the way you sound. You’re never this short with him, never seemed so sad since that night you called him drunk and he turned you down. And even then, it was different, not dismissive the way you are now. 

His anxious mind immediately provides him with a variety of explanations. Maybe you’ve finally come to your senses and realized that you don’t want him. That you don’t want a man twice your age, that him wanting you actually makes him a fucking creep, that he isn’t as great as you’ve built him up to be in your head. Maybe you’ve realized that what you’re doing is wrong. He wouldn’t blame you for it. One of you should be reasonable and end things for good. He has been telling himself that.

But you sound so upset that worry settles in his gut. He feels that pull towards you again, only that it’s not explicitly sexual this time. He just really needs to see you, to touch you, to make sure that you’re okay. 

The invitation for you to come over leaves his lips without thinking about it, just the overwhelming need to have you close. You pause, so long that he gets even more uneasy, but eventually you agree.

Dave knows that something is wrong as soon as he opens the door. You look smaller, slightly curling in on yourself. You don’t meet his gaze, eyes downturned and without the spark in them that he sees in his mind when he thinks about you. He pulls you into a hug, one that you barely return.

His bedroom door is once again firmly closed, and he’s directing you towards his couch again. Still the last invisible line, the one that he tells himself will keep him from letting you in all the way. Your eyes linger there for a moment, he can almost see the wheels turning in your head. You deflate even more.

He hates to see you like this. Fights the urge to wrap you in his arms, satisfy his hunger for your lips and fuck you until every trace of that sadness written over your face is erased.

The door that you presume leads to his bedroom is closed, just like the last time you were here. You wonder if he opened it for Cheryl, if she got to see a part of him that you didn’t. Then again, he probably treated her like a lady. Wined and dined her properly, maybe a chaste kiss to say good night. Because she’s someone who’s right for him, someone worth putting the effort in. Not the quick fuck that you had been. 

He probably invited you over to tell you in person that he really can’t see you anymore. That he means it this time. You suppose that in his mind, that’s the decent thing to do. You think that you would have rather had him text you about it. That way you wouldn’t have to pretend, wouldn’t have to tell him to his face that it’s fine, that you understand, don’t worry.

Still, he called and you came running. Like a fucking idiot. 

You sit down on the edge of his couch, decidedly keeping the images of the last time you were here buried in your memories. “Do you want something to drink?” You shake your head no and he sits down beside you. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the simmering need that you feel for him, even now. Please just get it over with.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know.” You’re not looking at him, keeping your eyes on your hands, your fingers gripping each other tightly, tense like the rest of your body.

“Do all what?” 

You bite your lip, attempting to swallow down the anger at the fact that he’s gonna make you the one to say it, but it’s no use. Your eyes fly up to meet his. 

“Make me come here, to talk to me in person, or whatever it is you think you’re doing. You– you could’ve just texted me.”

He furrows his brow, a hint of defensiveness in his warm brown eyes. 

“What are you talking about?” 

You scoff. “My dad told me. About your date.” You’re never like this, your voice biting and your eyes glaring. You’re never like this and you have no right to be like this now, getting worked up over the end of something that never even was, not really. “I’m sure she’s nice. A great match, he said, so you’re gonna tell me to fuck off. It’s okay, I understand.”

Your voice breaks on the last word. A lump is building in your throat and your eyes burn with unshed tears. This can’t be happening. It’s bad enough that you feel this much about it, but it’s indefinitely worse to have him know it. 

David’s expression softens. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s not–” He slips one hand in between yours, gently pries your fingers away from each other. “You thought that’s why I asked you to come over here?” 

You shrug, once again unable to meet his gaze. 

“The date was shit. I wouldn’t even have gone if Jim hadn’t kept bugging me about it.”

Inhaling deeply, you slowly trail your eyes up to his face again. 

“Really?”

He nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. His lips press against your forehead. 

“Promise.” He sighs. “You sounded so upset, that’s why I asked you to come–”

You sniffle, suddenly feeling stupid about the whole scene you made. He holds you a little longer, and you revel in his scent that’s engulfing you, in the warmth and solidness of his body. When he finally pulls away, his hand finds your chin and lifts it until you’re looking straight at him. A hint of amusement is glinting in his eyes.

“Were you jealous, baby?” 

You’re well aware that he can see right through you, but shake your head anyway. He allows himself a grin.

“What then? Worried that you’ll find no one else to fuck you like I do?” 

Heat is burning in your cheeks, but you can’t help but laugh. He’s not wrong, at least partially. 

Your lips curling up and the soft laugh tumbling out of you soothes him, eases the sting in his chest. The severity of your reaction to the idea of him dumping you for another woman took him off guard. He never wants to see that kind of hurt written over your face ever again. 

He should have told you, he realizes that now. He knew nothing would come out of meeting with that woman that Jim had been boasting about all week, but what was he supposed to say? No need pal, I already got everything I need fucking your daughter? 

He doesn’t know when you began feeling like everything he needed. He knows that you shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t check his phone as often as he does, shouldn’t spend his days fantasizing about you, shouldn’t imagine you by his side almost constantly. 

But how can he not, when you’re looking at him like this, your eyes so wide, so filled with trust. Always ready, always desperate to give him everything of you. Like a dream come true that he didn’t know he had. 

“Maybe,” you admit, teasingly but still so, so soft. Everything about you is so fucking soft. His to touch, his to defile. Because, inexplicably, you fucking let him.

He needs to reassure you that he’s worthy of that trust. He leans in closer, feels your breath ghosting over his face as his nose nudges against yours. He pauses, searches your expression for a moment. You dip your chin down in a tiny nod and he’s onto you, chases your mouth with his. He pours all the emotion that he doesn’t understand, can’t begin to name, into the kiss. How much he misses you, how often you are on his mind. How he doesn’t want to hurt you, wants to do right by you, but has no clue how.

Your lips move against his with more fervor, a mess of tongues and teeth clashing against one another. Your whimpers drip into his mouth, leaving him drunk off you. Heat spreads through him, like a fire that’s going to consume you both. He thinks that he wants it to. 

He trails kisses down your throat, sucks at the skin, relishes in the shivers that it sends through your body. You grasp at his shirt, trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons, but he stops you. Nipping at your collarbone, he looks up at you, takes in your wide blown pupils, the hunger in your eyes.

Maybe this is all he can give you, but he’s going to do that right. He’s going to give you what he can, as long as you let him. 

He hooks his fingers under the neckline of your dress, pulls it down a little, inhales the sweet scent of your perfume. Every new inch of your skin that he reveals fills him with the need to worship it. 

“Will you let me make it up to you, sweetheart?” He mouths at your skin again, his eyes still trained on your face. “Let me make you feel good?” 

You nod eagerly, a breathy please, David falling from your lips. He runs his hands up your thighs, marvels at the almost feverish warmth of your skin, before he lifts your dress and helps you pull it over your head. 

Your underwear is white this time, a picture of innocence that only he knows is an illusion. His arousal swells at the thought, his cock pushing against the confines of his pants. 

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this,” he admits, his hands trailing over your waist, tightening his grip momentarily and enjoys watching you squirm in response. “I think about you all the time.” 

Your gaze flickers for a moment, and he realizes what he just said. It’s not a lie, but also not a truth that he intended for you to know. You bite your lip, expression turning thoughtful for a moment. Then a small smile spreads over your face. 

“M–me too,” you whisper, a bit shy, like you’re still half-expecting him to take it back, but putting your trust in him anyway. 

He has to kiss you again, remove all remaining doubts about how much he wants you from your mind. Licking into your mouth, he starts toying with the cups of your bra, pulling them down just so that his fingertips can graze over your nipples. You press your body into his touch, your back arching off the cushions, and he undoes the clasp, lets the fabric fall away from your body. 

He runs his fingers over your flesh, teases the hardening buds, loves the way you keen into his mouth in response. Palming your tits roughly, he pulls away a little to look at them. He doesn’t think that he’ll ever tire of the sight of his hands on you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs. “Like you were made for me.” It stings only a little right in this moment, while he’s touching you, to know that you are not. He can keep pretending, for a while. It’s worth it, seeing how you light up at the praise, how you drink in his every word, sinking deeper into his touch. His, his, his.

David peels your panties off of you, the image of the white lace against his hand one that you know will burn itself into your memory. His eyes linger on the fabric, a grin slowly growing on his face. Arousal tingles at your spine at the sight. You’re entirely bare now while he hasn’t removed one item of clothing. The obvious power dynamic leaves you feeling vulnerable, you and your body at his mercy, but you trust him. To treat you the way you want, need to be treated, to push you to your limits and to still keep you safe.

The weight of his hands lands on your thighs, slowly pushing them apart, making room for his body between them. You’re acutely aware of how wet you are, and how clearly he can see it right now, with your folds all spread out right in front of him. You feel your slick coating your inner thighs, feel his breath ghosting against it.

He groans at the sight and sinks to his knees, almost at eye level with your pussy. The realization of what he’s about to do sinks in as he leans forward and places a gentle kiss against your clit that has you trembling. But still–

“Y–you don’t have to do that,” you stutter, suddenly feeling a different kind of vulnerable. A shame that you can’t explain starts welling up inside of you. 

He pulls back, sitting back on his haunches and looking up at you. His hands gently push your thighs back together, leaving you less exposed. 

“Do you not want me to?”

You bite your lip, fighting not to avoid his gaze. “I don’t know. I– I’ve never–” Your voice trails off. A fire is burning in his eyes, intimidating you. 

“No one’s ever eaten you out?” He sounds incredulous. 

You shake your head, shoulders moving up in a shrug, a wave of embarrassment growing in you. “Men don’t really… like to. In my experience.” 

He sighs and leans forward, presses a soft kiss to your left knee. “Most men are idiots.” It’s mumbled into your skin, lips moving against it. His fingertips inch up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You deserve to feel good, baby.” His voice sinks into your skin, low and raspy, and you have no choice but to believe it. “Will you let me make you feel good?” he asks again.

His dark eyes are on you, his fingers still tracing shapes over your skin. So close to where you want him. You’d let him do anything. 

“Please, David,” you whisper, for the second time. 

He pries your legs back open, a low growl in his throat as you’re spread out for him. Then he dives in, licking and sucking at your clit, gently at first, but quickly getting more intense, until stars start to burst behind your eyelids and you’re gasping his name. It’s overwhelming, unlike anything that you’ve ever experienced before. 

He lets up momentarily, licking through your slit, drinking up your arousal that’s dripping out of you and groaning at the taste of you. His mouth moves to your inner thighs, kissing and sucking on the sensitive flesh. He bites down suddenly, sinking his teeth into your skin and you scream his name at the unexpected burst of pain that transforms into pleasure almost instantly. 

He does it again, and again, leaving his marks on your body. It hurts just right, the sensation of him leaving his trace on you, marking you as his. You clench around nothing, desperate to feel him on your clit again, to take you the final bit to the top. 

As if he was reading your mind, he lets up his ministrations on your thighs and kisses his way to the spot where you need him so desperately. Your fingers sink into his hair, tugging at the roots, and he looks up at you, smug pride glinting in his eyes. He licks through your folds, nudges at your entrance with his tongue, before his lips find your clit again, closing around the sensitive nub. 

You come within seconds, the waves of your arousal crashing over you so suddenly that it takes your breath away. His groans vibrate against your skin as he laps at you, drinking you down. You feel like you’re in heaven. 

David gives you time to calm down, gently mouths at your heated skin, licks over the spots where you feel the indents of his teeth, before he kisses his way up your body. You taste yourself on his lips when they connect with yours. It’s messy, and filthy, and you can’t get enough of it. 

You whimper when he pulls back and his eyes find yours again, his almost black, the pupils blown wide. He rises to his feet and looks down to where you’re spread out, thighs parted, on full display for him as he towers over you. He leans down, a finger tapping against your mouth.

“Open.” 

Your lips part immediately, giving him all the access he wants. He groans at your obedience, trails his knuckles over your cheek for a moment, before raising his hand to your eyes. He’s holding your panties again. 

“These are so pretty. Would be a shame to just leave them lying around, don’t you think?” 

You let out a sound, something akin to agreement. His grin widens. 

“Good girl.” 

His fingers push the fabric into your mouth, your spit soaking the material, mixing with the arousal that’s already sticking to it. You moan at the taste, your eyelids fluttering shut. 

His palm connects with your cheek in a light slap. Not hard enough to sting, but your eyes fly back open at the sensation. You grind down onto the cushions, desperate for friction as another wave of need floods you. 

“Eyes on me, remember?” 

You try voicing a sorry, but it comes out garbled and he chuckles. Soothing his fingers over the spot he just slapped. 

“There’s no need for you to talk. Just be a good girl and take what I give you, yeah?” 

Your body is buzzing, but your mind is blissfully empty. Ready to give yourself over to him, to submit to whatever he asks. It feels so good, so easily being able to please for once in your life. To follow rules and be praised for it. Simple. Safe. 

He wraps the lace around your head and ties it together in the back, effectively gagging you, leaving your mouth opened, the fabric stretching against the corners. Your desire is coursing through your body with so much force that it’s almost painful. 

He kisses you over the gag, pressing his lips against yours. One of his hands wraps around your throat, applying a hint of pressure. Your hips chase him, your arousal close to unbearable. He chuckles against your mouth before he pulls back.

“Such a good girl.”

He teases you endlessly. Drinks in the sight of you writhing under him as his fingers are back on your nipples, tugging them harshly and eliciting soft mewls from you. You look beautiful in the golden light of the evening sun that’s falling through his windows, almost angelic. 

An angel that he wrecked, already so fucked out when he finally sheds his own clothes and starts sliding his cock through your folds. He coats himself with the slick of your desire, taps his head against your clit, nudges at your entrance again and again without sliding inside. 

Your whimpering cries are music to his ears, your fingernails digging into his shoulders sting just right. You’re pleading with him through the makeshift gag, your words all muffled, and he revels in the desperation in your eyes. Loves the sight of it. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he coos, slides over your clit again. “Tell me.” 

You’re trying, trying so hard to get out real words, and he chuckles at your efforts. Deciding to grant you a little mercy, he pushes the head of his weeping cock into you. He throbs at the feeling of it, of how your slick pissy tries pulling him in deeper. You’re whining at the stretch, your hands desperately grabbing at him, before he pulls back again. 

Your eyes are swimming with tears, silently pleading with him. It’s like a rush. You’re always such a good, polite and well-behaved girl, so sweet, and here you are, completely bare and spread out underneath him, crying to get fucked. By him. He’s a bad man, he knows it. He doesn’t care, not when it feels like this. 

He smirks down at you. “Say please.” 

It’s obvious that you’re trying, your tongue struggling against the soaked fabric in your mouth. He lines himself up once more, looks at your face, at the desperate hope written out in your eyes. Then he slams into you. You scream, gripping his shoulders so tightly that he thinks you’ve drawn blood. He couldn’t care less.

Now that he feels your tight walls all around his cock, engulfing him with pulsing heat, it’s impossible to tease you any longer. He pulls back, just to sink deep into you, again and again. You cry out at every thrust, every time that he hits that spot deep inside of you that leaves you such a trembling mess. 

He can tell when you’re starting to tighten around him, your cries getting higher, and he knows that you’re close. Slowing down, he leans his head down to yours, his thrusts becoming more shallow. 

“Hold it,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting against the soft shell of your ear. A whine escapes from your throat, fresh tears falling from your eyes, your whole body trembling underneath him, your cunt squeezing him deliciously tight. He’s breathless, high on the control you’re giving him, on your level of obedience, doing every single thing that he asks from you. 

Letting you calm down a little, he busies himself with kissing every inch of your skin that he can reach. Almost bursting with arousal himself, he knows that he’s not gonna be able to keep this up much longer. 

When he speeds up again, he sets a harsh rhythm, jostling your body with every thrust, mesmerized by the way your tits bounce with the movement. Your walls start tightening around him again, pulling him in. He can’t hold back anymore. 

“I’m gonna come. Gonna leave you just as messy as those little panties of yours. ‘S that what you want?” 

You nod eagerly, more unintelligible pleads stumbling through the gag. 

“Fuck, come here–“ His fingers scramble, ripping the fabric out of your mouth to kiss you properly, to feel your tongue against his. 

His hips move at rapid speed, pumping into you and chasing both your orgasms. He’s breathless, high on the feeling of your wet cunt squeezing him so tight. You come with a cry, muffled by his mouth on yours, and the sensation of you clenching around him sends him over the edge as well. He buries himself deep inside of you, spilling his cum to leave you just as messy as he promised you. 

“Fucking perfect, like you were made for me, only want you sweetheart…” He’s rambling, barely aware of what he's saying, still lost in the bliss of his orgasm. The words only register when an unreadable expression flies over your face in reaction. Shit. He goes through things to say, ways to somehow explain, though he couldn’t even explain the words to himself. 

His mind quiets when you smile shyly and burrow your face in his neck. He moves the both of you until you’re a tangle of intertwined limbs, resting on his cushions, watching as the light slowly fades outside. You’re warm in his arms, your breath coming softly, fanning against his skin. It feels too right to be wrong, he decides silently. 

The peaceful silence between you breaks with a chime from his phone, a message from  your father. 

“Looks like I’m invited to have dinner at yours,” he says, turning the screen towards you. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, grabbing for your own phone to check the time. “I should get going.” 

He helps you get dressed, until your still soaked panties end up in his hands again. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the hem of your skirt, on the bare thighs beneath them. You take a step closer, your hand stretched out for them, but he pulls them away, sliding them into his pocket. 

A smirk grazes your features as you take another step closer. “Again? Really?” 

He shrugs, takes your hand to pull you into him. Your responding giggle is a sound that he’ll never get tired of. He sneaks a hand under your dress, palms your bare ass and presses your body against his. 

“Be a good girl and stay like this, for dinner,” he murmurs against your lips, before he kisses you once more. 

A grin slowly grows on your face as you realize what he’s saying. 

“Deal,” you agree, your eyes glinting. 

You’re sitting down next to him, sliding into the chair beside him with the most innocent, sweetest smile to both your father and him. You’re still wearing the dress that you left his place in, the one that, if you’ve been good, you’re bare underneath. 

He reaches for you almost instantly, hidden under the tabletop, the pull towards your skin too strong to resist. You tense up for a moment, throwing him a quick glance, before you relax into his touch. He draws circles, featherlight on your skin, and you part your thighs a little more, allowing him to slide further between them. 

Focussing on the conversation with your father isn’t easy, not when you’re right here beside him, so pliant under his touch. 

“So, how was it with Cheryl?” your father asks, far too invested in the whole thing for Dave’s liking. You’re looking down at your plate, your shoulders slumped forward. 

He shrugs, his hand traveling upwards, beneath the hem of your skirt, pulling your thighs apart a little more. “She’s nice, but– Not the right fit for me, I think.” 

The memory of meeting the woman flashes through his mind. “You must be Dave,” accompanied by a shake of his hand. All wrong, so different from the way it sounds when David falls from your lips. He had wanted to leave right then and there. His grip on you tightens at the memory. 

“Well that’s a shame,” Jim sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I really thought you two were a good match.” 

Dave grunts noncommittally, taking another bite of his food. 

“This one,” your father continues, his eyes falling to you, “has yet to find a good match as well. Not the best choices so far.” He chuckles, either blind or indifferent to the way you seem to shrink in your chair. You mumble something about focussing on school and your career right now, your voice so small that it breaks Dave’s heart. 

“Boys your age are idiots anyway,” he says, grinning at how your eyes widen, his emphasis on your age in no way lost on you. “Wouldn’t want to have them distracting you, right?” 

You nod silently, but fire burns in your eyes when his hand reaches so high that his fingers swirl through the slick that’s covering your upper thighs. Dave grits his teeth, fighting the urge to kiss you right here and now, consequences be damned.

It’s wrong, it’s so so wrong, but it’s like he’s lost in a haze, high on the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. On the way your thighs fall open so willingly for him, always such a good and obedient girl. On the way you both know that you’re bare underneath your skirt, dripping with the filthy proof of what you did together. On the way he’s staked his claim all over your inner thighs, to the point that he’s certain the indents of his teeth are still pressed into your flesh. All while your father has no idea what’s happening right in front of him. 

The secret rebellion of it thrills you, he understands that now. He wonders if that’s what he is to you, an opportunity to do something so deliciously forbidden that you couldn’t resist. He’ll gladly be that for you. The idea to be the person who brought this out in you thrills him too. 

He somehow makes it through the evening. Not a single conversation topic has found its way into his memories. All he can think about, all that he knows he will remember is the feeling of you under his tight grip. All his. 

You had excused yourself when your father brought out the whiskey, squeezed his hand under the table before you stood up, carefully smoothing out your skirt. Call me, you had mouthed, turning back to look at him before exiting the room. 

He knows that he will.

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

[ajearthlinggg]

exposing you based on your fav will wood/wwatt song (my longest post)

A lot of these have nothing to do with the song. They're basically headcannons lmao. My Blake Jennings is showing

No instrumental chnt except Rhumba sorry

i started this in June enjoy

EIAL

6up 5oh copout: its low hanging fruit to say you hate cops, and I'm taking it. You hate cops.

Skeleton Appreciation whatever the fuck: Covid RUINED you

Front Street: you like Heathers

Aikido!: how's that obsessiveness and inability to let go going?

White Knuckle Jerk: you also like nu metal for the same reason. (Its incredibly horny)

Cover This Song: same as Aikido but only with your exes omg do not text them they are assholes

Thermodynamic Lawyer: PLEASE take time to calm down when you get overstimulated I promise if you don't do anything abt it you will have such a terrible mental breakdown

Red Moon: YOU LISTEN TO MALE MANIPULATOR MUSIC STOP TRYING TO HIDE IT YOU CANT BE IN THE RADIOHEAD CLOSET FOREVER

Lysergide daydream: I honestly do not like this song at all so you get a pass (don't kill me)

The First Step: you're usually quiet but you know how to SCREAM.

Jimmy Mushroom: you're usually quiet but- I'm just kidding. You're always quiet

Chemical Overreaction: you're usually quiet but if- I'm just kidding. You are never quiet

Everything is a lot/dte: insomnia. I dont know why,but insomnia

Self-ish

self/ish: closet theatre kid

2012: fast talker to a not comprehendible level

Cotard Solution: turn off the v-sauce it is 2 am

Mr. Capgras: turn off the 🌽 it is 2 am

The Song With Five Names: you have incredible taste. You can't describe that taste, but hey, its incredible

Hand me my shovel: you were the only talented kid in your elementary music class

Dr. Sunshine is Dead: you love the smell of cigarettes

TNA

Suburbia overture: BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD

222: your English teacher loves you (you're so goddamn gay)

Laplace's Angel: your English teacher hates you. How do I know? Because you can't pronounce anything (its la-plass-es not la-place-is)

i/me/myself: you have to beat off the fake fan allegations with a stick everyday

Wbtta: hey queen. How are those hyperfixations going

Outliars and hyppocrates: you spell the title wrong every. damn. time.

bbw: same as 2012 but holy shit triple it.

Marsha, thankk you: dyslexia and ADHD

Love, me normally: I get it. I'm not even gonna expose you. You already have it bad enough

Momento Mori: you are just SO quirky! (knives whisper things to you when you hold them)

Icimi

Tomcat Disposables: you'd shove photos of your pets in your friends faces even if they were dangling off a bridge

Becoming the last names: you either have wonderful parents in a happy relationship or your parents have been divorced for years and you will never relate to this song

Cicada Days: stop using self deprecating humor around the wrong people PLEASE

Euthanasia: this song is a masterpiece I have nothing to say about you.

Falling Up: WONDERFUL TASTE. AMAZING CHOICE. NO RECOLLECTION OF YOUR CHILDHOOD.

That's enough: you love Alex g you just don't know it yet

Um its kind of a lot: you either already love Scott pilgrim or it will happen. Its a canon event

Half decade hangover: omg twinn!! I have an addictive personality, too!

(I feel like this is a good time to say don't take these too seriously)

You liked this: ...what?

The main character: you can't relate to the song, you hate yourself

Sdrr: IF I SEE ONE MORE PERSON TAKING THIS SONG SUPER SERIOUSLY IM GONNA LOSE MY SHIT YDHZJABXV

Bfb: ur just a silly lil guy

Willard!: you're a therian. There is no human explanation to this.

white noise: you love pink floyd you just don't know it yet

Atkf: HOW TF DID I FORGET THIS ONE anyways you get bad habits (nail biting, staying up too late. Etc)

CHNT

Yes to err: you are still waiting for chnt season 2 BC you want to see what happens with Adam

Your body, my temple: I have a strong feeling you have a tummy ache right now

Venetian Blind Man: you love nobody sexually you just don't know it yet (this is a very ace choice idk why)

Rhumba of Death: you LOVE Halloween

When Somebody Needs You: Tyler the Creator is probably your favorite rapper

Live

Trww

Self/ish: You can't sleep if your room has the SLIGHTEST amount of light in it

10-4 6-up: unlike the original, you don't just hate cops, you hate anybody who can tell you what to do (your teachers are probably just trying to do their job. please)

Cotards Solution: you can't sleep without background noise

Dr Sunshine Lives!: You never get sick physically (mentally on the other hand...)

Where do you get off: omg the horniest of the horny. Gerard Way on stage levels of horny. Nine Inch Nails levels of horny. (Or you really like Umbrella Academy idk why)

Aikido: you can't relate to it. You hate everybody

Take a break grab some water this is getting long

Thermodynamic Lawyer: you have gotten kicked out of restaurants because of how loud you are

Front Street: WE GET IT. IT'S BETTER THAN THE ORIGINAL.

Wasting away again: I am so sorry holy shit

Hand me my (x), I'm (y): you suck at algebra

The First Step: you wish you could do the AUGHHHHHHHH

2012: severe social anxiety

Mr capgras: literally the opposite of 2012 (live)

Chemical Overreaction: you know so many random fun facts

Fibrodysplasia: I'm not even gonna talk about your mental issues because I will be banned from this app (which is pretty much impossible)

Icid

Cicada Days: you also get a pass fuck I'm so sorry

The main character okay you ACTUALLY can relate to it

Icimi: OMG I LOVE YOU

atkf: you cry every day even if you aren't sad

Becoming the last names: please don't become a Disney adult

Vampire ref: LISTEN TO MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN PUTTING IT OFF AND IK YOU LOVE HOT VAMPIRE MUSIC

Half decade hangover: oh my god talk to somebody it'll be okay I'm so sorry

Tsw5n: you love the way he says "what the fuck"

Euthanasia: once again, ANOTHER PASS. IM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU'RE OKAY

Jimmy Mushrooms: You. Me. Marriage. Now.

Laplaces Angel: you listen to LitWTC

i/me/myself: you were trying to separate yourself from the normal i/me/myself fans

The first step: idk why but you REALLY like lemonade

skeleton appreciation day: you can NOT play any instrument

tomcat disposables: you love concept albums

White noise: unlike cotards, you need to sleep in SILENCE

Love me normally: arctic monkeys. that's all I have to say. idk what about them but, yeah

misanthrapologist: GAY QUEER LGBT HOMOSEXUAL FRUITY ZESTY ROMANTICALLY ATTRACTED TO PEOPLE OF THE SAME GENDER

Falling up: wonderful taste once again please don't become a Disney adult

thats enough let's get you home: you say "YIPPIE!!" a lot

And if I did: god made you shy because he knew if you weren't you would be unstoppable

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Realized upon that hometown events' guest characters are those who are close with SSR card main characters. And I'm not saying because they are family or close friends.

Jamil - They could picked either of Jamil's parents yet decided upon Najma. Why? Because he and his parents' relationship are complicated and Najma is someone that he is close to the most and can be himself without worried about hierarchy. They even have typically sibling relationship where Najma mess with him but never outright cruel to him. (Love how she stole the shawarma)

Epel - Well Epel is a family man and he is close with each of the family relatives. I'm sure the reason it's Marja is because she is involved with the sled competition more than his family even looks like her the most (once he gets old). I mean it's hilarious how Idia fangirls Marja because she is inspiration of his favorite character.

Leona - they could have picked Farena since Cheka was already present but they picked Kifaji which is surprising given the last two are family members yet the guest character is the Twisted version of Zazu (but still interesting to have another twisted version of a Disney character). The reason is probably because he isn't close with Farena despite his brother caring about Leona that much but knowing his overblot backstory, he despise him since he is the heir and how people praise him while they badmouthed Leona. While Kifaji and Leona aren't really close, he is one of the few that Kifaji treated him well without discriminating him especially from the chess game. Kifaji is basically like a parent or an uncle to Leona and given Leona's family issues, he is close to someone than any of his family.

Deuce - knowing well about what he said about his mother, it's obvious that his mother is the guest character. Not to mentioned, the only person he is close to the most. Since he left the gang to leave a better life and how he treated everyone disrespectful and no known relatives except for his grandmother, his mother is closest person he has and how he'll do everything for his mother.

Vil - so far one of the two overblot boys (with Azul being the other one) are the ones without family problems (Idia seems to have caring parents but the family business is complicated for chapter 6 and 7 reasons). Obviously Vil will have his own father be the guest character because he is a great dad to Vil who doesn't abuse nor neglect him. Vil even talks proudly about his father.

So based on that, it's not just relationship towards the SSR but also how they are close to one another without ill-intentions nor trauma. So I have feeling the next hometown events will be similar to which the SSR closest to be the guest character.

Like for example, Azul's guest character could be his mother because he proudly talks about his mother and how he is happy that he married her divorce lawyer. I can picture tweels' guest character to be either their parents.

Now the only issues on who is closest to are the Lilia, Silver, Riddle's, Shroud brothers', and Malleus'.

Lilia and Silver are eachother's relatives and doesn't seem to have anyone they talk to outside of the family (Baul and Zigvolt don't really count especially when Baul ready debuted and felt they would be Sebek's guest characters). We already seen through the Shroud's parents and I doubt that Idia has someone close and Ortho is extroverted but I'm not sure what their hometown is like besides Styx. Do they have other children or anyone close to?

Malleus's family is complicated and we know about Senate. So he would likely have his grandmother.

Riddle for obvious reasons...

So this is just my speculation.

I believe it has been stated that the manga intentionally blacks out the face of Mrs. Rosehearts because she is viewed as the source of Riddle’s trauma. It keeps her in this shadowy, untouchable status and maintains the idea that the darkness of the past still impacts us in present day. I anticipate that this will hold and become the pattern for each OB boy’s flashback sequences. (We’ll soon see!)

If that’s the case for the manga, then it makes sense for the game to do something similar by purposefully keeping the faces of figures who play a significant role in each OB boy’s trauma a secret. That means likely no Mrs. Rosehearts, similar to how we did not meet the Viper parents in A Firelit Sky nor Farena/Falena in Tamashina Mina. However, some parents are clearly still fair game since they do have a good relationship with their son (Mrs. Ashengrotto and Azul, for example.). We see an example of this with Eric Venue showing up in Tapis Rouge.

It makes sense to meet family members whom the SSR boy has a good relationship with; running into a family member that stresses them out would kill the fun and easygoing vibes of the hometown event and would instead present an interpersonal issue that runs too deep to be resolved in a satisfying way before the event’s conclusion. Imagine a hometown event in which we have to stay over in Riddle’s home and we witness his parents fighting?? 😔 I don’t think that’s something that could be “fixed” in like 5 parts… Of course, not every family is perfect and that’s valid. It’s just not the scope or the perspective that TWST hometown events want or are equipped to deal with.

I feel like any of the Ocatrio’s family are pretty fair game? Despite how sketchy they are, Azul, Floyd, and Jade seem to be on good terms with all of their family members (well, maybe excluding Azul’s biological father) and learned many important things from them. I am, once again, asking TWST for a Coral Sea hometown event… 🤚 ✋ *holds out hands*

I’m sure that the characters who don’t have obvious family members to meet/yet to be revealed will have some other substitution? Probably a new character that’s twisted from another Disney character (similar to Kifaji). Maybe we’ll see a new noble fae that Lilia knows, Silver’s guardian fae that blessed him at birth, or prominent STYX staff (like maybe twisted Pain or Panic?).

For Malleus, his only living relative is his grandmother, sooo… I guess he’ll introduce us to the reigning monarch if he’s the SSR of a Briar Valley hometown event 😂 Malleus does what Leona won’t…

[hellfirecvnt]

Teacher Work Day

Lee Russell x Fem!Reader pt. 3

Summary: "Is that bitch pissing on that cop car?"

Notes: Whoops. This one's long. Idk why I keep doing that lmao.

Part one here. // Part two here. // Part four here. // Part five here.

The next day, the aforementioned Teacher Work Day, you show up hungover as all hell. You groan out a pained sound as you step inside the school underneath the bright, fluorescent lights. They claw and beat on your skull with every pulse of your heart. Your sunglasses do little to stifle the ache.

"Hey!" A voice that's far too excited for your liking. Whereas you're usually a tame person, this hellacious hangover has you out of character. "I just wanted to introduce myself to the new secretary. I'm Bill Hayden."

"My God, you are awake, aren't you?" You do your best to smile, peeling the useless sunglasses from your face. Across the foyer, watching from the large glass wall of his office, Gamby holds a phone to his ear. Lee's voice chimes a greeting from the other end.

"You're gonna be pissed if you get here too late and Bill fucking Hayden's made his move on Ms. Y/L/N." He taunts.

"Yeah, maybe I can show you around town sometime. Show you all the cool spots," he says with a smooth laugh. The young teacher's try-hard flirting is enough to make you gag, hangover or not.

"I just heard him offer to show her around town." Neal shakes his head.

"What are you talking about?" Lee ponders, sounding obviously stressed.

"Bill Hayden is making a pass at Y/L/N. Where are you?" Gamby's voice becomes urgent.

"I fuckin' told your stupid ass I had to meet with the lawyers today."

"I thought you said your divorce was finalized," he says, still watching as you wait for Bill to stop talking.

"Yeah, they usually like to get paid after they do that for you, dumbass. I'll be there in 20 minutes." He's about to hang up until Neal starts talking again.

"She's probably only talking to him because I told her you were into her, but when she asked you out, you said no."

"What?"

"It's okay, I told her that you are probably not into her anymore." Neal nods, pleased with his own actions for some reason.

"Gamby, what the hell? Why?"

"What do you mean 'why?' She asked you out and you said no. Did you want me to lie?"

"I want you to stop fucking talking!" Lee hangs up and tosses his cell phone into the back seat of his car as he drives down the highway. "Bill Hayden, you shifty little bitch."

He whips through a local coffee shop, because fuck Starbucks, and grabs some coffees for whoever. He just doesn't want to show up empty handed after Neal has taken to intruding on his dynamic with you. He quickly throws the car in park and speed walks inside with a peculiar amount of energy in his hips.

When Lee walks through the door, your face lights up. It doesn't go unnoticed. For just a second, Lee's eyebrows threaten to knit as he watches your expression change. He wonders if he underestimated his chances with you.

"Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N," he chimes, leaving one of the hot drinks on your desk.

"Thank you, Mr. Russell." You grin, genuinely thankful for the caffeine that you're praying will set you right for the rest of the day.

"Why don't you come with me, darlin'? If I don't claim you now, you'll be stuck running bullshit errands for Gamby." A wave of relief washes over you as he says this. You whisper a quick thank you and slip out from behind your desk. After grabbing your coffee, the two of you head down the hall.

You reach a set of double doors and as he holds it open for you, a student walks in. You're still learning names, but you recognize him as Todd. A freshman that loses his phone and has to come to the office to pick it up relatively often.

"Todd, honey, you can't be here," you say in your soft, teacher voice.

"Todd Frechett, what are you doing here?" Lee interrupts.

"I'm going to school." The short, blond kid looks around, confused.

"It's teacher work day, we did announcements about it every day this week. Go home." Lee shifts his weight onto his hip, waiting for the student to exit.

"But my mom's not home and the door's locked."

"Okay, well, then go bowling or play stupid video games, or go masturbate in your car- whatever it is that teenage boys do." He explains. "You can't be here."

"Uhh, uh-" he seems genuinely at a loss for what to do.

"No, no, no. Not 'Uh, uh, uh.' Go home." He finishes, shoving Todd out the doors he came through. "Open this door, open the next door. Open the door after that."

Lee and the student go back and forth for a while as the kid walks away, exiting the school.

"We need a day without children please!"

"Alright!" He shouts back, the door closing behind him, ending the interaction.

"Um, Lee. I don't think you're allowed to say half the shit you just said to that kid." You look at him with concern, sipping your caffeinated drink as the two of you continue walking.

"He won't remember it tomorrow. Kid's got ADHD and two Christian hippies for parents." Lee's words confuse you and you nearly get a headache trying to decipher what he means.

"So, you were a little late today." You change the subject. "Everything okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It was nothing." He shrugs. Nothing, you repeat inside your head. Nothing kept him from having a drink with you last night, he just didn't want to and that's fine. You try to bury your embarrassment under a smile, knowing it'll pass in a short while. Rejection is part of the human experience.

"So, uh, listen. About those drinks," Lee starts. He's got a stupid smile on his face as if he's almost in disbelief that he's already finding himself speaking so boldly to you. The divorce had been drawn out for a while, his feelings for his ex-wife have long since fizzled. But it just seems so fast. Too good to be true.

"Oh, please. No worries. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm still not allowed to talk to teachers, I think. I just didn't want to drink alone," you say, hoping to ignore the situation and allow your humiliation to fade out with dignity. You let out a fake laugh.

"No, I mean, this weekend. Maybe you and I could get those drinks." Strangely enough, his palms sweat with nerves.

"Drinks this weekend? I'm in. This week has already been a shit show," Gamby appears from seemingly nowhere. "Y/L/N, grab a clipboard-"

"Not today, Gamby. She's the secretary, not your personal assistant. Get an ISS kid to do it." Lee waves him off.

"Fine. Payday drinks this Friday. I'm in." Neal snatches one of the coffees from Lee and takes off down the hall. There is no way out of it, as arguing with him is like negotiating with a brick, you might as well accept that Gamby will be crashing your date.

You and Lee share a knowing look and he rolls his eyes. You can't help but laugh.

"At least we know it'll be a fun evening," you chuckle.

"I'm certain he will turn the night into a shit show the minute we get there, but sure. It'll be interesting."

The rest of the week is filled with nonsense and plotting from your two higher ups. They can barely seem to agree on anything until Neal learns that Dr. Brown has a history of alcoholism. The three of you gather in Lee's office.

"That's perfect, Gamby. Invite her out to payday drinks, we'll knock that bitch right off the fucking wagon." Lee looks elated.

"I hate to rain on your parade, Lee. But if she's been sober for this long, there's a high chance she'll say 'no' to going out and drinking," you chime in.

"Listen. That bitch is going down one way or another. Let's just invite her to dinner and see where it goes," Lee stares deeply into your eyes and you almost forget to respond.

"Y/N's gonna have to show up separate from us. Brown doesn't fraternize with staff under her VPs," Neal injects.

"Okay, well. Don't call yourself a VP. That sounds too important," you sneer.

"Too impor-? I am important."

"Yeah, but it sounds like you see yourself as like a Vice President or something." You can't help but tease.

"I'm close enough. I'm fuckin'... Vice President of this school." Neal fumes.

"Whatever, whatever. I'll be there before you guys get there. I can't let my bosses know how high my tolerance is anyways." You shrug and the two men look at each other for a moment and then back to you.

"Go see what she says, Gamby, and report back," Lee instructs and Neal just about listens to him, but then he stops in his tracks and turns back around.

"You've been sending me off a lot. Bossin' me around. Makes me think you might think you're in charge or something." He squints his eyes. "Or are you just trying to get some alone time with Y/N even though you rejected her and she drank alone about it last night?"

"Je-sus Christ, Gamby." You stare down at the floor in front of you with wide eyes and a flushed face.

"Will you please get the fuck out of here?" Lee pinches the bridge of his nose. "Go, go!" He ushers Neal out the door, closing it behind him. Lee returns to his seat behind his desk and glances up at you where you stand, smiling from the embarrassment and humor of the entire situation.

"He's the fuckin' worst, right?" You chuckle, only half joking with that statement. You take a seat across from his desk. "I was going to drink anyways, by the way. It wasn't because you weren't there." Lee laughs at your clarification.

"A fucking idiot, just an absolutely stupid motherfucker. I'm bewildered," he huffs, leaning back in his chair.

"I guess I'll get back to the desk. Mrs. Frechett will probably be calling us after a while." You straighten the stapler on Lee's desk and he watches your delicate hand as you do it. Just as you're taking a step toward the door, he speaks.

"What if I did just like being around you? Alone? Would that make you uncomfortable?" His words cause heat to rise in your face, you feel it all the way to your ears. He's posed his question like a hypothetical, but you're no fool.

"Gross," you say in jest with little thought at all. Lee's face immediately drops to one of confusion. "Oh, my God. I'm kidding. I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that." You shake your head, clearly taken aback by your own actions. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable at all, Lee. You're the best part of my day, usually."

"Usually?" He questions as an uncontrollable smile creeps onto his face.

"Yeah, sometimes Neal just sweeps me off my feet. All that shit about leadership definitely does it for me." You fan yourself, playfully. Lee can't help but laugh, utterly charmed. Time slows down, it seems, as the two of you laugh together. In the same moment he allows himself to feel comfortable with you, his mind is flooded with doubts and anxieties.

He and his ex-wife, Christine, haven't been divorced for long, but the marriage itself was over long ago. His feelings for her are all but a memory. What troubles him now is the fear of being left again. No, not in an overdramatic, help him feel whole again type of way. It's just a lingering fear. When Christine left, it was hard on him. With the divorce freshly finalized, he wonders if he can handle the stress of doing it all again should something go wrong.

The next day, after the school day concludes, you leave work and head home to get ready to meet the guys and Dr. Brown for drinks, staging it as an accidental run-in. After changing into some comfortable, casual clothes, you make your way to the bar.

To your satisfaction, none of the cars in the lot are recognizable. You park on the far side in the darker corner, hoping your car doesn't stand out too much. Inside the bar you order two drinks, slamming them down as quickly as possible before your coworkers arrive.

"Ms. Y/L/N? Is that you?" Principal Brown's smooth voice rings behind you. You turn around, flashing a face of convincing shock.

"Dr. Brown! Oh my goodness!" You chime, reaching to bring her in for a friendly hug. "Let me buy you a drink!"

"No thank you, Y/N. Now, you all know I don't drink," she laughs warmly. A sense of pride in her words. You begin to wonder if opening your mouth is the right thing to do, but after one glance at Lee, you do it anyway.

"I hear you, ma'am. I have a terrible history with drinking as well," you admit, only half lying. Is it really history if you're still drinking? Oh well. Brown's eyes go wide as she takes in your words. "I was clean as a whistle and straight edge as they come for years after initially getting sober." You finish your third drink. "But then I realized that if I have to force myself to not even look at the bottle, then alcohol still controls my life. Moderation is what I strive for."

You set the glass down on the bar and shrug with a smile, insinuating that it's your first drink of the night.

"Moderation, B. It's a beautiful thing," Lee announces, having just ordered a round of shots. "I know that whole book fiasco got you down. Leblanc fuckin' humiliated you at that tribunal."

Belinda seems to weigh her options before snatching the last remaining shot, and joining the group as you all toss it back. She releases a hyper sound, whooping like a sports fan as the clear, burning liquid enters her system for the first time in years.

"Yeah, Dr. Brown!" You cheer, signaling for another round. Round after round, with fruity cocktails in between, even Lee and Neal find themselves more buzzed than planned, but you're still stone-faced. Dr. Brown wavers on the cusp of belligerent and blackout.

You and Lee step outside to have a cigarette, mostly to escape the overwhelming nature of a drunk Dr. Brown.

"Did you really have a drinking problem?" Lee asks, wanting to dissect how much of your monologue was just a performance.

"Shit, I think I have a drinking problem right now," you joke. "Nah, that was all bullshit." He bursts into laughter, impressed by your quick-witted nature.

"Sure wasn't hard to convince her, huh?" Lee gestures to the door where a drunken Principal Brown terrorizes the locals.

"Not at all. She was basically grabbing the glass while I was still talking."

"I really appreciate your help, Y/N," he speaks softly. "Gamby's a fucking idiot, there's no way we'd make it this far if it weren't for you."

"Thanks, Lee," you smile with pride. You look down at your hands as a thick silence grows between you. "The other day, when you were late to work, did you really have something to do, or was it an elaborate rejection? I've learned you're pretty elaborate."

Lee sighs.

"Y/N, I'm newly divorced. My wife left me one day... Unexpectedly." He knows that's a lie and he's pretty sure you know that too. "I was paying my lawyers, filling out paperwork." He shrugs, waving his hand around as if to dismiss the matter.

"Okay, yeah, sure. Except you can do all of that over your phone nowadays." You lean against the railing outside the bar.

"I know, I just-" he searches for anything to say besides admitting it scared him to pursue you so quickly.

"So you could've had a drink with me after all," you smirk, reading his hesitation. Understanding his explanation, even if you've never been in that situation.

"Guess so," he mirrors your smile, slowly drawing closer and closer to you. Before either of you are aware, you're nearly pressed against each other. Lee's chest rises and falls at a rapid rate and you watch his eyes dance back and forth from your eyes to your lips. Your face feels hot and the heat only grows more intense until you finally close the gap, pressing your lips to his.

His well-tended hands wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him, and deepening your kiss. You reach your arms around the back of his neck, resting them there comfortably as your heads move in sync, albeit sloppily. Lee's grasping at any part of you he can, pulling you as close to him as possible. Your breathing quickens and a small moan escapes your mouth until you hear something strange and pull away.

"Lee."

"What?" He sounds annoyed to have lost contact with your mouth.

"Did you just hear Belinda say a slur?" You squint as if it'll help you hear better. At that moment, the door flies open and Brown is quite literally thrown out the door, Gamby close behind.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Gamby!" Lee exclaims, laughing maniacally at Brown's physical state.

"Oh, fuck. My purse is inside!" You run to the door and beg for them to let you inside just to grab your belongings. They're hesitant, but after seeing you so coherent, they let you in to recover your things, demanding that you leave right after. You show no protest and quickly make your getaway as promised.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you scan your surroundings for your group, more importantly, Lee. They're a few blocks down the sidewalk doing something you're not close enough to decipher. As you speed walk up to them, you realize Dr. Brown is standing on top of a cop car and...

"Is that bitch pissing on that cop car?" Your jaw drops.

"Fucking pig!" Belinda chants as she urinates down the windshield of the police cruiser. Lee makes sure to gather every bit of evidence he can, while Gamby stands off to the side, looking a little guilty. You understand his empathy, but you crave Lee's approval over social acceptance and that's just something you've come to terms with. Maybe you're not so far off from him on the crazy scale.

Right after her golden shower, Principal Brown passes out, tumbling down the front of the cruiser.

"Oh, shit!" Gamby runs to help her up.

"Cut me out of that shit, I want no part in it," you point to Lee with a serious expression.

"I need to get her home, ASAP." Gamby says, helping her to her feet.

"I'll drive Lee home. You get her to a bed." You shake your head, leaving the men to help Dr. Brown to Gamby's car. You jog over to your own vehicle in the dark corner you parked in and fumble with your keys, finally feeling your buzz. Worst timing ever.

"Let's see that purse," an unfamiliar voice speaks from behind you. You turn around with a raised brow and see a tall, skinny man in a hoodie, hiding his facial features. In the shadows, you can still see his pale hands as he lunges toward you.

"What the fuck?!" You attempt to fight the man off as he tugs on the strap of your purse. He wrestles it off your shoulder and the two of you play a sort of tug of war. "Fuck off!" You scream, echoing through the parking lot.

"Was that Y/N?" Lee's head pops up from the car he's helping Belinda into.

"I heard it too," Neal scans the parking lot.

"Let go!" You wail, out of sight. Neal rummages through his center console and then takes off toward the sound of your voice. Lee's not far behind, squinting his eyes to attempt to see further into the darkness. "I swear to fucking God when I get my concealed carry license switched over-"

"Hey!" Lee's voice booms across the lot as they close in on you. The man quickly releases your back, causing you to jerk and stumble backward, falling to the ground with a hard thud. Lee runs to your aid while Neal, broken out in a full drunken sprint, hunts down the assailant and bashes him once in the back of the head with his brass knuckles.

"Hey, you okay?" Lee kneels beside you, placing a soft hand on either side of your face, searching you for wounds. "Did he hurt you?" He asks with an eccentric amount of worry.

"No, dude. He couldn't even get the bag out of my hands," you break into a laugh and he joins you, just from the relief of seeing you okay. Eventually, Neal returns with his brass knuckles ever so slightly bloody. It was less about defending you and more about getting to use his new brass knuckles.

"The thief has been taken care of," Gamby says with his eyes narrowed.

"Mr. Gamby, did you just kill that man?" You ask, shocked.

"No, but I could've." He walks away without another word, heading out to drive Dr. Brown home. You climb into your driver's seat and Lee slips into the passenger side. It's quiet for just a moment before you speak up.

Maybe it's the alcohol and adrenaline talking, but you do very little to stop it. You bite your lip before finally speaking up.

"Lee?" He looks at you, buzzed and smiling. "Do you want to come back to my place?"

(Part 4 coming soon!)

•••

Taglist: @its-in-the-woods // @justme12200 // @sixx-writes // @littlenosoul // @itsyellow // @blackwoodtree

[lbxbx]

Cockpit 9 | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood, mentions of anxiety attacks, mentions of abuse, mentions of bribery.

taglist: @wecanpretendit | @whoisbts | @yoonjinsrkive | @my-current-mood-is | @joonzseoulmate | @parkinglot-nights | @missbangtangirl | @m00njinnie | @mantaecrolss

Previous | Next

This entire weekend was incredible, yet still a huge weight sits on your shoulders when all of them blend in with Namjoon and seem to be liking him… a lot!

You spent so much time over thinking the fact if you and Namjoon didn’t actually end up together everything is going to end up being awkward for you two.

Jungkook has already planned a workout routine with the guy and they agreed to meet up a couple times a week, even when he used to work out with you, but you’re long forgotten. Yoongi wanted to take him out and play basketball, Taehyung wanted to see a cockpit in real life so he politely asked Namjoon to show him one.

You’re a little overwhelmed that you kind of regret the fact that you introduced them together, you wish time went by fast so you could go home.

Less than a week after, Hoseok is driving on his way back home from the court house, that day he had planned dinner with you and a movie night, not only because he genuinely misses you and  wants to hang out with you; but he’s trying to keep you away from Namjoon a little, not that he’s against anything or whatever, he just wants you to take your time with the whole thing. So he planned a sleepover at his place, and it’s just you two.

You’ve always been close together and did these kinds of nights occasionally if neither of you had to work, so you wouldn’t mind at all, in fact you would love to.

Hoseok’s phone rings while he’s driving and he puts his phone on speaker when he answers. “Hello?”

“Mister Jung? Hi this is Mister Lee speaking, I’m one of your clients.” It seems to be an older man on the other side and Hoseok gets a little suspicious, he has way too many clients and most of them share their first names, so he apologizes. “I’m sorry, but I’m currently driving, can you make it quick please?”

“Absolutely, I wanted to talk to you regarding my daughter’s hearing on September 14th, you’re her husband’s lawyer aren’t you?”

He feels the need to park the car on the side of the road as he grabs his phone and checks his schedule, Namjoon’s hearing is scheduled that day along with two other sessions. “What’s the spouse’s name?” He asks.

“Kim Namjoon, I thought that we could make a deal with you.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

A little cheap shot from her family, but most of the other parties when they find out that Jung Hoseok is against their own lawyer, they try their last shot which is bribery. The whole field of law is intoxicated with bribery and even though it is in fact a federal crime, it still occurs frequently.

And of course, Hoseok is filthy rich, because really, he can’t deny that if he got a  good offer, he would totally accept the bribe and not try hard defending his own client, but of course he wouldn’t accept the bribe if they offer a fake or invalid evidence to hold against his own  client.

But considering Namjoon actually matters to you and you’re his close friend, Hoseok decides to actually listen and figure out what they have in hand. “Sure go ahead.”

“3 and a half million won if you make him change his mind and cancel the divorce.”

Of course her father doesn’t even own the 3 and a half million won. Even if Hoseok actually got Namjoon to change his mind, her family would take the Kim’s money to pay Hoseok.

Hoseok laughs. “Do you have any valid reason from him to change his mind about the divorce?”

“We have witnesses, he was seen in public with someone else, and we have a witness of abuse.”

Hoseok knew that you being around Namjoon all the time will complicate things, he rubs his forehead and nods. “We need an actual concrete evidence, do you have any? Video tapes, pictures, clothing item?”

The older man laughs nervously. “We don’t have concrete evidence sir, aren’t witnesses just enough?”

“Of course not, for all we know, your witnesses can easily lie.” Hoseok’s answer is more than enough for the man to just sigh, “I will get the concrete evidence, can we visit you in your office when we’re ready?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you Mister Jung, we’re sorry for keeping  you busy.” The older man apologizes before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Of course Hoseok doesn’t need the evidence to begin with, even if Namjoon was actually guilty, he was going to defend him just because he knows that the man matters to you.

But he feels the need to tell you, that the man may be accused of actual abuse. And he needs to talk to Namjoon and see if he ever touched the woman in an inappropriate way.

He finally gets home to take a shower and get dressed, as he waits for you to show up, you two were going to bake pizza from scratch and he had everything prepared for you two to cook together.

He grabs out Namjoon’s file to put on the coffee table before you finally arrive there and ring the doorbell.

You were working that day on the morning shift, Namjoon wanted you to come over to his place since his soon to be ex partner is in Ilsan with her parents, but you told him that you had plans with Hoseok and of course he gave you your space and wished you a pleasant time.

You got back from work and dressed into a pair of sweatpants and a  hoodie and you matched it  with a pair of socks and a slipper, and you drove to Hoseok’s place with a six pack of beer.

“There you are.” He opens the door and pulls you into a hug, you hug him back and kiss him on the cheek, “What’s up?” Before walking towards his kitchen to put down the beer, he opens the fridge to shove the drinks inside and grabs you out a bottle of water. “I have some tea to spill.”

“You do? I love a little gossip.” You grab the bottle and untwist the cap. “Who’s sleeping with who? Is Jungkook sleeping with someone’s girl?”

He laughs and scratches his nose. “I’m not surprised you think that, but nope, it’s actually regarding you.”

You’re a little taken back when he speaks, he even crosses his arms and looks at you in the eyes, one eyebrow cocked up.

“Should I be worried?” Your heart drops when he takes a couple seconds to answer you, “Nope, nothing too serious, let’s go sit.”

He points his head towards the living room, both of you walking there.

There is not a single scenario that didn’t go through your head, your anxiety is increasing by the second and he’s taking his time to talk which drives you mad.

You cross your legs under your butt and sit back onto the couch. “What is it?”

He grabs the papers and hands them to you, it takes you a second to recognize that it’s Namjoon’s  divorce papers, clipped onto a thick file that was hand written by his previous attorney, consisting of Namjoon’s testimony.

“What’s the matter?” You worriedly ask and he eyes you carefully before he speaks. “His father in law found my number somehow and called today to put an offer, of course Namjoon doesn’t know.”

“Hobi, I think I should stay out of this, it’s none of my business.” You put the file down and sigh, a little relieved that it’s nothing concerning you in person.

“No Y/N.” Your stomach drops when he uses your name clearly. “I think you have to know, they’re trying to find a concrete evidence of abuse, and they have a witness who claims that Namjoon was seen in public with someone. Look, I’m just worried if what they are claiming is true.” He whispers as if someone might listen.

You bite onto your nails anxiously, you know Namjoon’s side of the story but you don’t know hers’. And perhaps everything they’re claiming can actually turn out to be true.

But you shake that thought immediately away, you’ve known the man for more than two months now and you swear on your own life that he’s been nothing but good to you.

“Did you go out with him?” Hoseok’s deep voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you even flinch. “We went out together a couple weeks ago, but that’s it.” You shrug. “We mostly hung out in my place.”

“And did anyone recognize Namjoon or something?” He asks. “Someone might’ve spotted him.”

You’re totally unaware of what happened in the wine cellar that evening and it didn’t even cross your mind because you didn’t over think it in the first place. Plus you were a little tipsy.

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, “I’d really appreciate it if you brainstorm a little.” He puts his hand onto your leg for support before getting up. “I’m not going to dig further more into the topic of abuse unless they hand me the evidence.” He walks towards the kitchen.

“I think you should talk to them.”

And he stops to look at you behind his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Make them trust you, maybe they’ll spell out the truth.” You simply suggest.

“Do you have a plan?

You simply shrug with a little pout forming onto your lips. “You know your job better than I do.”

He pauses for a second and scratches his temple. “Fine, I’m in, but can we please get to cooking? My brain won’t function when I’m hungry.”

You get up onto your feet and head to the kitchen with him.

-

The night is getting longer and the time is passing really slow since winter is about to come up early this year, you’ve always hated night shifts when the night got longer but now you don’t mind them. Namjoon has been keeping you entertained  throughout the entire night, texting or even video calling when he’s in the hotel room outside Seoul.

“Hey, I got you some coffee.” Seokjin makes a surprise visit to the emergency room and puts the cup down in front of you, he’s looking tired and he could barely stand on his feet. “Thank you, you don’t seem okay,”

He leans against the wall and closes his eyes. “I’m not feeling well, I think I have a fever.”

You get up on your feet and grab his arm to lead him onto one of the beds and close the curtain. “Lay down.” He obeys and immediately shuts his eyes, you grab the nearest thermometer and aim it towards his head, and indeed he does have a fever. “What hurts?”

“Nothing too serious, I think it’s the flu because my tonsils hurt.” He barely speaks. “Can you write me a sick leave? And can the nurses give me something? I’m really tired.”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. “Oh so that’s what the coffee’s for.” And he flips you off because he’s too tired to bite back at you.

“Fine. Stay here.” You open the curtains and head out to the nurses to give them the order on what to give him before writing him a sick leave.

The emergency door slides open and an old man walks in with a woman behind him, both are walking so it seems that there is nothing too urgent to you. They take the bed right next to Seokjin’s and leave the curtain open, waiting for you to come over.

You take a sip of your coffee that you know is going to get cold by the time you’re done and make your way towards them with one of your nurses to introduce yourself. “Who’s the patient?”

“I am.” How can you forget her features? You’ve seen her once but you remember every detail on this woman. There’s a ring still on her left hand.

“Lay down please,” You put a pair of gloves on and walk near her before the man next to her stops you. “We would prefer if it was just you examining her.” He looks at you then looks at the nurse who’s about to turn around and leave before you grab her wrist. “She has to be here to assist me.”

“But we want some privacy.” He insists, you squint your eyes and tilt your head. “And you are..?”

“Her father.”

Makes sense, she looked a lot like him, you feel resentful towards them both that you couldn’t control your facial expressions. The nurse leaves as you give the woman in front of you a half assed examination.

“Breathe.” You order her as your stethoscope sits on her back, your other hand supporting her other shoulder.

Her sense of smell is heightened all the time, and the perfume on you smells so familiar, of course she can’t forget the night she first smelled it on Namjoon’s shirt, and what makes her a little suspicious is that she smelled his shirt on the same night that her second cousin claimed that he saw Namjoon with someone..

But of course this doesn’t prove anything since people tend to like similar perfumes, she looks at you and sinks in her thoughts. Quite good looking, but a doctor who probably doesn’t have the time to go out with someone.

“What brings you here today?” Your question snaps her out of her thoughts, she’s about to open her mouth to speak but her father grabs her by the shoulder and whispers. “We need your help.”

You stand in front of them in confusion before you ask. “How can I help?”

“My daughter is going through a divorce and the lawyer asked for a medical report to give to the court.” He nods and has the audacity to say. “And you women understand each other, we need your help with a medical report to prove that she’s been a victim of violence.”

Her parents are putting in all their effort to find  their evidence, of course her second cousin wasn’t able to snap the picture earlier, but they’re using their twisted ways and trying to dig deep just to prove that Namjoon was there with someone.

They even asked the company that held the tour to send them the list of people who booked on that day but it was confidential and no one was allowed to have it, and Namjoon got lucky with that..

And of course they offered a few doctors that are related to them a bribe just to fake reports of abuse, or even fake reports that she’s pregnant so that the divorce can be delayed. Her father is working on a big project and he needs funding for it, the divorce cannot happen any time soon.

Someone suggested that they should head to hospitals in Seoul rather than Ilsan since her and her husband live there, and that she should visit an emergency doctor so that they could help her with her medical report.

You feel your body fuming with anger and you’re even more bitter now, you clear your throat and look up into his face to see that he’s dead serious. Other doctors would’ve probably done it, but of course you wouldn’t because it’s unfair to Namjoon and unfair to you and your job.

“Could you give me a minute please?” You force a fake smile and open the curtain to head back to the counter, a little overwhelmed.

The bed next to them is occupied by  Seokjin who’s on his IV medication, and even when his ears were buzzing due to his fever, he could still hear the conversation happening next to him very easily since there’s only a curtain between them.

“Something’s suspicious.” She whispers and her father grits on his teeth before answering. “This is all your fault, we wouldn’t have gone through all this.”

“The night our cousin told us that he  saw Namjoon with someone—“

Seokjin’s eyes almost fall out of their socket when he hears the mention of Namjoon.

“—He came back the next day smelling exactly like the doctor’s perfume.”

Fuck, Seokjin gets a head rush when he rises up from his seat too quickly to turn off the IV fluid and leave the bed. He makes sure that he’s seen when he stands next to you really close and wraps his arm around your waist awkwardly.

You flinch and look at him, a little terrified by his sudden touch. “Wh—“

“Put your hand around me and shut up.” He whispers. A frown sits on your face and you’re a little too angry to be doing this nonsense with him. He can see the debate happening in your head so he presses on his teeth and whispers again. “Just do as I say.”

And you put your hand around him with a clear cringe on your face, before he speaks a little loud. “I was looking for you honey, where have you been?”

You scrunch your nose and tilt your head. “Huh?”

“I miss you.” He’s loud enough for them to hear, he presses a kiss onto your cheek and tugs your hair behind your ear. “O-oh, you have patients?”

You’re still confused and you’re seriously starting to think that the man may be hallucinating from his fever, “Get back to your patient, call me when you’re done.” And he simply leaves the emergency room.

Meanwhile her father looks at her and she looks back at him before he whispers. “She’s clearly married, stop over thinking.”

You turn and get back towards them with your arms crossed, you’ve had your time to think, and it’s a little last minute, but it’s time to initiate some sort of plan.

So you fully decide on giving them the report but before that you give them some false information and they seem to believe it. “Of course I’ll help you, we’ve helped women before and we’re glad to help you.” You even fake a smile. “But we need to give you the report sealed in an envelope so that the court could accept it, it’s something with the law I guess.” You shrug. “And I’m going to sign it with my name right by the seal so that they know it hasn’t been opened before.”

Her father has a smile of victory on his face and looks at his daughter who’s a little occupied looking at your fingers to see if you’re  actually wearing a ring or not, still not convinced with what she saw earlier. And luckily that day you were wearing your cheapest jewelry and you wore one of the rings on your left ring finger. Now she’s finally convinced.

“Please stay here, I’ll go write the report and have it ready for you.” You nod and get back to the counter to sit in front of the computer and start typing.

Her full name and age, her history and physical examination.

Before stating clearly, that there are no signs of abuse, no bruises, no signs of cuts or wounds, no fractures, her vital signs which indicate that she’s perfectly well, before signing your name and printing the paper and folding into an envelope and sealing it.

“There you go.” You gladly hand them the envelope, a little happy on the inside that you got to do something to prove Namjoon’s case. “Thank you so much.” Her father snatches the report from your hand, and he’s a split second away from opening it before you stop him. “Sir, if you opened that envelope you can’t give it to court and no one else can write you another one.”

“I have to read it.” He’s about to open it again but again you interrupt him, constant non true bullshit coming out your mouth. “Her name has been logged into our system with a copy of that report, if you open the envelope it wouldn’t be valid anymore and it may be used against you.”

And that’s what convinces him to stop, his daughter taking the report from him and putting it into her purse. “Thank you.” She gets up and drags her father out of the emergency room.

On her way out, your eyes pierce up and down her figure, of course you were judging her and comparing yourself to her, you know you’re way prettier than she is that you secretly wonder why did the man marry her to begin with.

You roll your eyes at your own thoughts, a little cocky for you to think like that, but oh well.

The moment they leave the emergency room you grab out your phone to see 3 texts and a missed call from Namjoon. You decide not to call him back and instead, call Seokjin to find out what the hell was going on.

And he explains the entire thing to you on the phone, and you’re now happy that he did what he did.

You text back Namjoon of course not letting him know what happened just now, before locking your phone and leaning your head back onto your chair.

A sudden heavy weight sits on your shoulders, and you feel a little too involved in Namjoon’s divorce even when you didn’t want to, which makes you genuinely upset. You now wish you liked a man who was single already and had nothing to go through,  no divorce, no custody, no nothing.

As she returns home with her father she locks the door and he sits onto the couch to clip the closed envelope with the divorce paper, “You better hide this well, he can’t see this do you understand?”

She nods and hesitates to blurt out. “I have something in mind, I know exactly how we can set him up.”

“I think this report is more than enough to get you your rights.” He doesn’t want to listen, totally insisting on doing everything his way. “After all, I can’t lose his father.”

“I know, and what I’m about to do is going to get me more than just my rights.” She holds onto her father. “I can promise you.”

“What are you planning to do?” He finally decides to listen.

-

A little over one week passed by and you and Namjoon still haven’t seen each other since you came back from the beach house, he’s been flying constantly and barely has the time to rest or see his son, and you’ve been working double shifts just to kill time.

Of course Hoseok never left you alone, even if you came back home feeling tired and sleepy, he would bring his papers and work on his cases even when you’re asleep, and by the time you’ve woken up he would’ve ordered food or cooked something. And some nights Yoongi came to sleep over when Mia went back to visit her family.

Hoseok’s plan worked perfectly as he wanted you and Namjoon to keep it low key, of course you had no idea, but he’s doing his best to protect you.

When Hoseok suddenly had “Plans” on a Friday night you knew that he’s hooking up with someone or found a new fling, of course you were home and you knew that Namjoon flies back today from Tokyo, his air carrier had shortage and they asked him to fly internationally even when he hasn’t in a long time.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I should.” You whine as you put the last dish  in the dishwasher, you’re video chatting with him as he’s driving to his place after landing. “Come on, we’re always hanging out at your place, this time I want you to come over.”

“Is Jay still in Ilsan?” You ask, you remember him telling you a few days ago that Jay’s at his grandparents’ place with his mom. “Yeah, they won’t be back until Friday.”

You take off your gloves and hang them by your sink before leaning your hand on your hip. “Namjoon, this is not a good idea.”

“Come on, please? You haven’t seen my place yet and—“ The call suddenly lags and the screen shows that the call is reconnecting, it seems to be that you’re on hold and he has another call, in the mean time you wash your hands and take the apron off before plopping down onto your bed until he connects again. “Sorry, I had to take this call.” This time his phone is in his hands as he seems to be reading something on his phone. “Are you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, it’s an order that should be delivered to my place tonight.” He finally hangs his phone on his dashboard. “So what do you say? Should I come pick you up?”

“You don’t have to, I’ll take my car.”

“So you’re coming?” His pearly whites show in a smile wider than ever and you roll your eyes. “Alright.”

“I’ll be waiting for you, be quick okay? I’m going to order dinner.” He makes a turn, his eyes barely looking on the road as he’s trying to take quick glances of you.

“I’ll get ready right away, see you then.” You smile and wave your hands, he  waves back and blows you a kiss before hanging up.

You get up on your feet and rush to get ready, a pair of comfy jeans and an oversized button up with a pair of converse.

Namjoon on the other hand, gets home and locks the door before taking a quick glance around his  house, he starts picking up Jay’s scattered toys and putting them away into his son’s bedroom, he puts his carry on in his bedroom and gets in the shower, making sure he’s quick before you get here.

His door bell rings while he’s wrapping the towel around his  waist, he knows it’s not you because your house is a little far from his place, so he rushes to the door and opens the security cameras, he remembers  the package that was supposed to be delivered, but why is it here so early?

He opens the door and grabs the big package from the woman’s hands and puts it down. “Where do I sign?”

“Mister Kim.” She takes a single step closer and he automatically takes a step back as he feels uncomfortable and a little terrified, she lifts her hand to graze it onto his shoulder and chest as she takes another step closer, until she’s practically inside the house.

Of course it’s you who shows up at the right  time, the elevator doors opens and you take a walk down the aisle and turn to make your way to his apartment door, but what’s happening  in front you doesn’t need further explanation.

You made the effort to get him a passenger airplane Lego to put up together with him and at that second it was totally not worth the effort.

It hurts inside, and not because you’re jealous or anything, that’s way far behind you.

It hurts that you let yourself get o this place, you never got into a relationship because you know men can be heartless and mean, and now this happens right before your eyes and it physically hurts that you can’t do anything about it, you’re not the one to blame him because practically you two aren’t aa thing yet.

You can’t stop him from seeing other people, and he could so easily go hook up with someone and you can’t say anything about it, he’s a free man and he could do anything he wants, you don’t dare to take a step further, you simple put the Legos down and turn to get back into the elevator, you’re not even sure he saw you.

You don’t feel physically well and you feel the need to lean against the elevator walls, you’re hurt and you can’t deny that you’re a little… Embarrassed?

Yeah you’re embarrassed.

You’re embarrassed at the fact that the man who you told your friends was actually a good man despite he was married is apparently seeing other people, but goodness, everyone thought he was head over heels for you, how come did that happen?

Oh my god.

Your palm sits on your face when you realize how tragically stupid you sound, the man is married and you still like him??

The elevator door opens when you finally get to the ground floor and your phone starts ringing nonstop, of course it’s him. You rush to your car and get inside to drive away fast before he can catch onto you, and even when you’re now 5 minutes away from his place, he’s still calling and you finally decide to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/N, where are you?” He worriedly asks and he’s out of breath.

There’s a very clear lump in your  throat when you speak. “Oh hey, I was just going to text you that I wasn’t feeling too well.”

“Y/N, I saw the Legos, what did you see?”

You’re totally caught, and to avoid saying anything that you may regret later, you swallow and laugh awkwardly. “Namjoon, I just need some time alone, it’s okay.” By the way, it’s totally not.

“No, wait, Y/N, it’s not what it looks like.” He speaks and you immediately stop him. “Yeah, you know what, I’m pretty sure it isn’t” Of course you’re not convinced. “But I need to be alone and think some stuff through.”

“Y/N—“

“Namjoon, I need to hang up, I’m driving, okay? I’ll see you around.” You take your phone off of your ear and it takes you a few seconds to press the red button and hang up the call.

Your shoulders sulk in disappointment when you exhale, your eyelids suddenly are getting heavier by the second, you need to lay down.

Your drive home took some time, when you finally get there and lock the door, you make your way to your bed and finally lay down with your clothes still on.

It hurts a little the fact that it’s been a while since you’ve spent a Friday night on your own, not that it’s specifically Namjoon whose been hanging out with you, but it was either you working, or you having plans with your friends, but tonight, your friends had their own plans.

You end up falling asleep way too early that night with your jeans on.

Utter shit is what Namjoon wakes up feeling like, he’s sweating and his head is pounding with a headache that he never experienced before.

Yes you’re hurt, but he thinks that you should’ve listened and that you’re being unfair to him.

This is the last thing he thinks of, he’s confused and wondering since when did the mail arrive out of schedule? This woman that delivered it wasn’t even in a certain uniform or anything.

Namjoon opens his mail and bank receipts to see  that the order was made over a month ago, but he wasn’t sent a mail that the package was delivered even when he just got it.

Something smells fishy and he can’t put a finger on it.

“Bingo.”

The CCTV finally falls in his wife’s hands, she even cropped and edited the video to get the desired part on tape.

Namjoon’s lawyer wanted concrete evidence? He got it.

-

“What do you want for your birthday?” You take a sip from  your wine, you and Hoseok were spending the afternoon at Jungkook’s place.

“You don’t have to get me anything.” The younger waves his hand shyly, “I just want us to celebrate it together, we could go party somewhere.”

“But we have to get you an actual gift.” Hoseok is way too focused onto the gaming console that Jungkook has. “We’re going to get you something anyway, you would make it a little easier if you actually said what you want.”

“Do you want handmade coupons like last year?” You giggle.

You two came up with this stupid idea, when you had no idea what to get him for his birthday, he asked you to do his dishes or cook him something or even do his laundry, so you handmade coupons that he could use whenever he wants throughout the year that had several chores written on them.

“This year I’m turning 27, I want 27 different coupons.” He asks and you rolls your  eyes. “Absolutely not, you’re only getting ten.”

Hoseok finally puts down the gaming console and crosses his legs. “We’ll party tomorrow in the club, and we can have dinner on Saturday.”

“You have a birthday weekend you brat, when it was my birthday all I got from you was a pack of condoms that I still have till this day and a happy meal.” You hit his shoulder, he rubs it and pouts. “You said you liked it.”

“Yeah, I lied.”

“I’ll tell everyone on the group chat.” Hoseok grabs out his phone, Jungkook turns towards you and asks. “Can Namjoon come?”

Right when you’re about to open your mouth, Hoseok  answers. “No.”

You were going to give Jungkook the same answer, but Hoseok didn’t want Namjoon to come just because he can’t be seen in public with someone when he’s going through a divorce.

“Why?” Jungkook’s doe eyes stare at you two in confusion as Hoseok explains  to him why he can’t come. “It’s going to be alright.” Jungkook’s arm wraps around you.

“I wonder if Seokjin can come too, how is he feeling?” Hoseok changes the topic and Jungkook looks at him in confusion again. “What happened?”

“He was tested positive for covid.” You nod your head. “But he’s fine now.”

They  still don’t know what you saw a week ago, and of course they can’t know.

The next day you finally get to the club, strobe lights on and off around the place, the speakers bursting out loud music that you feel pounding inside your eardrums, it’s the end of the summer so it was really crowded, the bar stools completely full and you could barely walk inside.

You roll your eyes when you see Jungkook in a party hat on his face and a pair of shades and a birthday whistle in between his lips. “There’s the birthday boy.” You wrap your arms around him and kiss him on the cheek, he hugs you back and lifts you up. “You look incredible.”

He’s right, you were in a short green velvety dress that had spaghetti straps and a slit down the thigh. You matched it with a pair of high heels. “I know, so do you.”

Jimin hugs you right after and pulls you the chair next to him to be seated right between him and Seokjin. You spend the first few minutes catching up even when you barely can hear each other from the loud music.

“Did you tell Hoseok about what happened in the ER?” Seokjin asks, Hoseok’s head snaps fast towards you two and leans in. “What happened?”

“Namjoon’s wife came in for a medical report.”

“And did you give it to them?”

“I have a copy of it on my phone if you want to.” You take your phone out from your purse before turning to Seokjin. “But I already told Hoseok that I don’t want to be involved in this case anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks, while Hoseok grabs your phone from your hand to read the report. “It’s his divorce and his private life, It’s really consuming my mental wellness to just think about it.”

He understandably nods. “You’re right, that’s what I wanted to tell you from the very beginning.”

“You did a great job.” Hoseok gives you your phone back. “Did they read it?”

“Of course not, I had to lie and tell them that the court only takes closed reports.” A proud smile sits on Hoseok’s face. “Typical Y/N behavior.”

“Shut up.” You elbow him before getting up and dragging him and Seokjin to the dance floor with your drinks in your hands.

Time passed by so quick that night, you were having so much fun, and a bunch of drinks later, you and your friends are still on the dance floor and you feel yourself starting to shut down, you tap their shoulders and shout for them to hear. “I need to sit.” And they carelessly nod, you make your way to one of the bar stools and ask the bartender for a bottle of a water before looking back at the dance floor, giggling at your friends who were dancing all over Jungkook.

“Hey.” You hear a deep sound coming from behind you and you turn your head, a tall charming man leaning onto the bar with a drink in his hand, his dark hair up in a man bun and a grin sits on his plump red lips. “I’m Jaewook.”

Your eyes drift down to his hands as if your whole experience with Namjoon taught you a lesson the hard way. Your eyes are abruptly searching through his fingers for a ring which makes him follow your eye sight, you finally ask. “Are you married?”

“Excuse me?”

You don’t even blink nor repeat your question, you suddenly grow shameless and you’re not going to elaborate or take your question back, your eyebrow rises up as you maintain eye contact with him before he stutters. “N-no? I’m not.”

“I’m Y/N.” You reach your hand out to shake his, he shakes back your hand and takes a sip from his drink. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks, I’m done for tonight.” You cross your legs, you feel his eyes pierce through your entire body, his eyes are examining you head to toe, settling a little on your ass that’s sat on the stool.

You can’t not admit the man was attractive, and at this time and with your state of mind, you won’t mind flirting with him or even being flirted with, so you turn your face towards him and lean your elbow onto the bar. “Do you usually buy every girl you see a drink?”

He takes a step closer, his shoulder pressed against yours and leans closer towards your ear so you can hear him well. “Only pretty ones like you.”

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the fact that the last time you had sex was weeks ago, but your body is reacting upon his touch and you shiver at his breath against your ear shell.

“Are you here with someone?”

“Just my friends.” You shrug, he nods and leans in again to ask. “So no boyfriend huh?”

It takes you a second to answer, a dry lump sits in your throat and you force yourself to swallow it and shake your head. “Nope, not at all.”

His lips twitch into a tiny grin before he brushes his fingers against your shoulder, “You wanna go dance?”

You lower your head to stare at his fingers before looking up into his eyes before you smirk. “Sure.”

He puts his drink down and offers you his hand, you take it and head to the dance floor with him, his hands sit onto your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck, both your bodies swaying together.

Biology works and as a man it’s a quite normal reaction for him to feel a little aroused that a pretty girl like you is alone and drunk, you agreed to dance with him, maybe you would agree going home with him?

His face sits in the crook of your neck and he prints the wettest most softest kiss ever almost as if he’s testing waters to see if you’d be okay with more than just dancing or not.

But your drunk and hazy mind can’t comprehend anything, you giggle and lean your head back. “Namjoon stop.”

Standing in front of you, the tall handsome man’s name is long forgotten and you realize you’re fucked when the name that escapes your lips is his name.

It hits you and it hits you harder than ever, that you’re actually pretty angry at him, and you’re even more upset at the fact that he didn’t try to call you nor contact you in any way.

You press hard onto your teeth and just wish that you actually helped his soon to be ex spouse with the fake medical report, Namjoon doesn’t deserve shit.

“Namjoon?”

You totally forgot the man standing in front of you.

Your nausea is creeping onto you and you pull back with your hand hovering over your stomach. “I’m sorry, I need to go.”

You brush your shoulder against his as you walk past him to make your way towards your table, Seokjin is already sitting there drinking water. “Are you okay?”

You’re swallowing repeatedly trying to hold back from throwing up, you remember the last time this happened and it scarred you a little. But still you nod your head. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

The rest of the guys get seated and they bring out a bottle of champagne to pop and finally celebrate Jungkook’s birthday.

Yoongi lifts his glass up and starts making a toast but you’re not listening.

Your mind is somewhere else and you can’t really ignore the fact that you’re very bitter at Namjoon, he never even tried to apologize, the only thing this could mean is that you really mean nothing to him.

You scoff a little on the inside, once a cheater always a cheater, right?

He cheated on his own wife, the mother of his child with you, he could so easily go hook up with someone else and give them the same story and he won’t even be half sorry.

You take your phone out and hide it under the table before you send him a text.

“???”

Less than a minute after he reads the message before replying.

“You wanna talk?”

“To Jungkook!” Yoongi speaks and that’s the only thing you hear before clinking your glasses together. “To Jungkook.”

You take a sip from your champagne and get up onto your feet. “I need to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

You make your way outside the club and unlock your phone to call Namjoon, two rings after he answers. “Hello?”

“Listen Namjoon, if you think I texted you just because I wanted to talk things through then you’re wrong, you have to know that I deserve—“

Of course your slurred speech makes it hard for him to understand and he could so easily tell that you’re drink, since the music behind you is loud enough too, he knows you’re out. “Y/N? Are you drunk?”

You squint your eyes and your hand sits on your hip before you bite at him. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Of course it does.” He even has the audacity to argue with the coldest tone ever. “Where are you?”

“You don’t have to know.” You feel yourself barely able to stand up, the alcohol now affecting you harder than before. “You know what, I’ll see you later.”

This jerk even hangs up, your jaw falls as you stare onto your phone screen in denial, you’re fuming on the inside and you wish you could just reach your fist through the phone and punch him to ease the fire building inside you.

-

“Are you sure you can make it upstairs on your own?” Seokjin asks when he drops you in front of your building, you’re about to open your mouth for an answer but Seokjin looks behind you and smiles. “I know you’re in safe hands now, how are you?”

“I’m doing good, how are you?”

Of course it’s Namjoon, you roll your eyes and don’t even turn towards him, his hand sits on your lower back as he handshakes Seokjin. “I heard you tested positive, how are you feeling now?”

The two spend a couple minutes catching up together, of course none of your friends know about what happened with him, you didn’t want to tell them just to avoid the embarrassment, and at this exact moment when they catch up and chat specifically, you’re really glad you didn’t tell them.

“Drive safe.” You force a smile to Seokjin before he finally gets into his car and drives away, you make your way inside the building totally ignoring the fact that Namjoon is shadowing you, his hands fighting the urge to touch you, and his entire body is on standby worried that you may stumble or fall or anything.

You click the button of the elevator and cross your arms, awkward silence and tension building between the two of you , your eyelids and tongue feel heavy and you’re having a headache so of course you’re not going to argue with him.

Just treat him as if he doesn’t exist, you think.

He’s completely sober though and he’s sinking in his own pond of thoughts, wondering where to start from? How to explain himself? How should he even apologize? He knows he looks like utter trash to you now and he’s not in a good place in front of you, but he’s innocent.

The elevator door closes on the two of you and you cross your arms as you’re standing in the middle of the elevator, your eyes focused on the numbers of floors increasing every 5 seconds.

Your apartment is in the 16th floor so you know your trip is going to take some time.

He leans against the elevator walls, his eyes locked onto you from behind, his palms and back are getting sweaty even when it wasn’t a hot night, he’s nervous and he doesn’t recall the last time his fight or flight worked this hard.

The elevator rings when it stops on the desired floor and you walk out of it, your heels being the only sound heard through the aisle, you reach to your door to click onto the password and unlock it, you walk inside and he follows you in.

You lift one leg up to try and take off your heels before you stumble and lose your gait, him being on standby benefits you when he supports you with his own body, his hands sitting onto your forearms. “You’re okay, let me help you.”

You want to push him back so bad but you really can’t spare the effort to take off your heals, and if you were alone you would’ve probably slept in them. He gets down on one knee and helps you with the pair, of course you don’t bother thanking him or anything, you just make your way inside to your bedroom and put your phone and purse down.

“Namjoon—“ You start before he presses his lips against yours for one single kiss, he leans his forehead against yours with his hands hovering over your hips. “Y/N, you’re tired and drunk, please let me take care of you, and we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

You have so many things to say but you physically can’t, your eyelids are shutting down and you feel yourself near falling asleep, you don’t remember when was the last time you were this drunk, tonight you went way overboard.

He stands behind you and his shaky hands unzip your dress before he pulls you into the bathroom, he slides your dress off of you and assists you to get in the shower, he helps you shampoo your hair and bathes you before wrapping your bathrobe around your body, his top a little wet from the water splashing onto him.

You  sit on the covered toilet before he hands you your toothbrush, you groan because you barely have the power to be seated, and he wants you to brush your teeth?

He grabs the hair dryer and dries your hair before helping you rinse your teeth and go to bed. “There you go.” He lifts the blanket for you to lay down and you do right after taking off your bathrobe, he tucks you in bed and turns off the lights, before walking to the other side and laying beside you.

-

The next morning you wake up surprisingly without a headache, you had your fair share the night before and you went to the bathroom a few times during the night, so the alcohol is probably out of your system.

You feel cold so you cuddle onto the blanket and look at the air conditioning remote to see it turned off, the weather is getting colder indeed, but you look under the blanket to find out that you’re completely naked. Your eyes almost fall from their sockets, did you come home with anyone last night?

You look over at the empty space behind you, it seems like someone slept next to you but you don’t remember who it was, were you really that drunk?

You hear your coffee machine buzzing from the kitchen which makes you flinch in bed, someone is actually with you and you’re starting to get a little scared, especially when the footsteps are getting closer to your bedroom.

You’re a little relieved but a little angry when you realize it’s Namjoon holding your favorite mug filled with coffee and walking into your bedroom. “Good morning.” His stupid dimple again, ugh.

“Yeah.” Your hand moves to your head to scratch it before you rub your eyes, and suddenly you remember everything that happened last night, well practically nothing happened, but you still remember some bits here and there. “Good morning.” You clear your throat as you sit up, holding the blanket closer to your chest, he hands you the cup of coffee and a couple pills of pain killer. “Thank you.”

You don’t need the painkillers so you put them onto the night stand and take a few sips from the coffee in order for your brain to start functioning. “How are you feeling?”

“Why are you here?” You ask calmly, your eyes not bothering to look up at him. He laughs quietly before sitting onto the edge of the bed and answers. “I know you’re mad and upset, but believe me, what you saw wasn’t true.”

“Oh so was I seeing things?” You take another sip from your coffee. “Or was I hallucinating that you were with someone else right by your door with only a towel on?”

“Y/N—“

“You know what.” You put your mug down before holding your hands together. “I’m so glad this happened, and the more I think about it, it’s fine, I just didn’t know that we were allowed to hook up with other people, it’s a good thing I found out so I don’t have to be careful, that’s all.”

The thought itself disturbs Namjoon, not the fact that you don’t believe him, but at the fact that you were implying that you can hook up with other people, he’s a little irritated at the thought of you being touched or kissed by someone other than him.

“After all, it really was just a hookup.” You shrug, he shakes his head in denial before he process a couple words out of his mouth. “It wasn’t true, I have no idea how to prove it to you but it is not true.”

You nod your head totally not convinced before grabbing your mug again and taking a few sips from it. “Can you get me something to wear?”

He rises up on his feet and opens your closet to grab you out a pair of shorts and a top. “You’re being unfair to me.”

“Okay.” You keep drinking your coffee, totally unbothered by his excuses, and it seems like he’s getting angrier by the second before he turns to you. “If I wanted to be with someone else I would’ve told you.”

“Sure.”

“And you think I would’ve messed with someone else right by the door? Where everyone can see me?” He shuts the closet, your clothes still sitting in his hand. “Nope.” You’re slowly driving him out of his mind, and it shocks you the amount of self control this man has. Even when your behavior was irritating him, he still contained himself.

“You won’t even listen when I tried to explain myself, and that was totally unfair.” He walks closer, you reach your hand out to grab your clothes, but he argues again. “I will prove it, I actually thought you trusted me, I thought we had something.”

You rub your eyes in frustration when he won’t actually hand you the clothes, “You know what, let’s just imagine if the whole thing happened with me, what would you do?”

He crosses his arms before answering. “I would actually listen before assuming anything, especially when I know that you have people around you trying to set you up like people are doing to me.”

He’s partially right, it could be someone trying to set him up and screw up his divorce.

You’re an inch away from being actually convinced, before you remember that the man once pretended to be single and never mentioned his marriage, and again you’re back to point zero.

You forgive him for doing it but you can’t forget it at all, of course you’re not going to bring it up because you agreed to hook up with him even after you knew he was involved in a relationship.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.” You shrug your shoulders, “You can do anything you want to, you’re a free man and I can’t be in the way.”

He sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed and he whispers. “I want to be with you.”

You look into his eyes and you see regret and disappointment all over his face, similar to the time you saw him in Ilsan right after you found out about his marriage. “I don’t think I’m worthy, but I’m selfish enough to actually want you. I lied to you once and I can’t forgive myself, you were there for me every day for the past few months and it makes me feel guilty for doing you wrong so bad.”

You don’t let your emotions control you, your brain is much of a hard worker than your heart is, so you shrug again and look down. “I don’t know Namjoon, you have to give me some time, and we have to know where your divorce is going, so many things happened and I don’t think you know.”

His face changes and his eyebrows form a knot between them, “What happened?”

[iznsfw]

above the law, (under you)

TWICE's Chou Tzuyu x Male Reader Smut

4,629 words

Categories | lawyer!Tzuyu x criminal!you, thighjob, blowjob

Quick one for TWICE's maknae. Hope you like it.

The thing about law is that it's actually quite flexible. Forget what your law professors taught you and all those fines the government threatens. If you manage to lie with just a bit of space for truth to distort your falsehoods into, you can get out of anything easily. That's certain, actually, no matter what consequences are inscribed into whatever bible juries and judges have. Maybe you'd only have to spend a few days in jail, probably narrowly avoid a death sentence. 

At least, that's how it works when you've got a good lawyer. 

Oh, yeah, that's what Tzuyu is for. Lucky you.

"So you understand," she says, spreading your files on the desk like it were butter across toast (don't mind the choice of comparison; your stomach is growling), "that it gets suspicious."

Actually, you don't. "Do elaborate."

Tzuyu sighs. She drags a hand along her golden hair. Normally, colored hair in the courtroom would be looked down on, but she's reached that kind of status that it doesn't matter what she does or who she represents—whether she wins or loses the trial for you, she's Chou Tzuyu, and everyone still gives her the deserved respect. 

But with you, the situation is more dangerous. It's a hit or miss with you, and now, the two of you are getting closer and closer to missing.

"You've been in and out of juvie since you were in middle school," she says, one pinky up to count the factors. Another as she goes on, "And you haven't stopped robbery and physical assault since then. You raged in the divorce court, too, so trust me: when it comes to custody of your kid, it doesn't get easier."

Three fingers. Three's the charm, right?

"Well," you curl down the sides of your mouth and raise your hands, "obviously."

Again, you're lucky to have Tzuyu. She's the only one who's paid enough to put up with your bullshit. She's the only one who can get you out of said bullshit. If you said that to anybody else, they'd kick you out, and you know enough already about being excluded and rejected.

That's not to say you feel sorry for yourself, just to be clear. You're too used to this rowdy lifestyle that your own actions don't humiliate you. Neither does the fact that you haven't matured from the age of sixteen. 

In that case, you do feel sorry for Tzuyu, though. She's an intelligent and beautiful young woman. She's only going forward from here on out, but you'll always hang onto the hem of her dress pants like a tail. You're a mistake that no Mongol pencil top can erase, and that's been sealed into her mind long after she accepted to represent you. 

She's the one getting paid anyway. No need to muck over it.

"Did you do it, though?" Tzuyu asks. 

"Do what?"

"Did you beat up your ex-wife's husband in front of her?" 

Honesty is a virtue that only your lawyer is deserving of. So, "Yeah."

Tzuyu pinches her nose. "And the drunk texts?"

"Uh huh."

"The lamb blood on the yard?" 

"All me, baby," you answer. 

You're a bit regretful, to be honest. Not for the fucked up shit you did to coax your ex-wife into getting back with you, but with how you failed to use your own blood to write out "YOU'LL ALWAYS BE MINE, DAHYUN!" in front of her house. But you've already crossed one too many lines.

"You sound proud," Tzuyu notes. "Don't you realize how this can influence the trial?"

Do you? Probably, but you've gone to court so many times, against so many people, that it's become like a second home. The Corinthian columns looming over you don't scare you anymore. Neither do the judge and jury.

Maybe the reason you keep fucking shit up is the need for something to feel?

You haven't felt anything in a long time besides anger. Maybe that's it. Maybe that's why you keep doing what you do despite knowing it can ruin your few good relationships with the few good people who deal with you.

"You can get me out of this alright, Tzuyu," you say. Prop your feet on the opposite plush seat that stands at the front of her desk. "Just lie—you know, it's your job."

"I'm a lawyer, not a magician," Tzuyu says, speaking through her grinding teeth. "I'm not another foolproof way to buy yourself out of consequences."

"That's nice. Got that comeback off searching 'badass lawyer quotes'?"

Tzuyu stares at you. She's really too cute to be in a courtroom, but the way her full lips are set and her eyes glare through your soul make you remember that she's up there for a reason. All these certificates and awards placed on her wall and bookshelves aren't out of nothing. She deserves respect from you because she's still your lawyer, she's still your only way out of going to prison.

"You just… don't care, huh," Tzuyu remarks. "Everything about this is just one huge joke to you."

Her tone isn't far from her usual formal one, but it's mixed with realization, too. She realizes that you'll always be like this. It's not your job or your kids or work—it's you. It's all on you.

"But really," she continues, with a small, bitter laugh, "the funny thing is I actually held out hope for you."

She did? 

You've been waiting a lifetime to feel something that isn't rage. You're surprised to find out that it would happen, and the thing would be guilt.

"I—I thought that if I did everything I could for you," she says, her fists curling tighter to the beat of every syllable, "for you to get away scot-free, you'd actually put some sense in yourself." She smiles sarcastically. "But I was stupid to think that, wasn't I?" 

Everyone's been disappointed in you one way or another. It's no lie that your parents are. There's also a reason why your siblings won't talk to you anymore. But the disappointment riding off Tzuyu's words hurt unexpectedly. It breaks you. 

It also, somehow, angers you. 

"Get out of my office." She points to the door. "I'm done with you."

"No, you're fucking not," you reply. 

Tzuyu's accustomed to your banter and attitude, but that actually stops her in her tracks. She looks at you with disbelief.

Your smile quakes with anger. "We're not done until I say so, Tzuyu."

"That doesn't work on me."

"Come on, let's face it, attorney," you say, stressing the title with false respect. Set your hands on the desk scattered with files and folders. "You like me."

Tzuyu rolls her eyes. "Oh, please, spare me the—"

"No." 

Your steps trace a marble path to the back of her desk, to the place that should be off-limits to you. You never raped or anything, but you remain a criminal, and she remains a lawyer who has to set boundaries. 

However, all boundaries are crossed when you've got her backed up to the edge of her desk, when her pretty face is centimeters away, and your hands are itching to tear the high fashion uniform off her slender body.

It's the first time you've ever seen Chou Tzuyu scared. Her face is set to a poker expression in the courtroom and out of it, but seeing her parted lips and wide doe eyes ignite your emotions. It's new, it's different, and you love it more than you should.

"Come on, Tzuyu," you press, tilting your head to the side. "You know why you want to keep defending me after all the fuckery I did."

"And what can that be?" Tzuyu asks. Her brows are raised.

Another question, you see. This girl really should stop inquiring about things she knows well the answer to, but, graciously, you say it out loud for her. You're a good guy like that. "Didn't I say it already? You like me. Admit it: you're tired of defending guys who at best stole from Walmart. You want the real horror. You want me."

It's all delusions to grope for the upper hand, but you see Tzuyu's eyes. You can read them well from all the time you've unwillingly(?) spent together, you know that her rare expression of vulnerability means something:

You've caught her.

"Oh." Smile. Your rambling holds some truth after all. "So I'm right. Of course you like me."

"Don't flatter yourself," Tzuyu snaps. She struggles to keep eye contact with you. 

"No, no." Guide her face to meet your gaze. "You want some relief. It's not easy being a lawyer, definitely not easier to fall for a psychopath client. But it just happens. You can't control it."

She swallows, looks down, and shakes her head. That's something she's humble enough to admit. "No…" 

"Of course. I can give you what you want, you know."

"I don't want anything from you," says Tzuyu. Her eyes fire an unspoken word of caution to you. "You don't know what you're trying to do."

"For a lawyer," you chuckle, "you're a terrible liar. I thought that was the whole thing with you people."

"I told you to leave already." 

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere," you say, sliding your hands down to her tiny thing of a waist, "until you tell me what you actually feel."

You can feel Tzuyu's breaths accent the rises and rests of her tight midriff. She's contemplating this over, but she knows that she's grown fond of you. You know this, too. Like you said, there's a reason for her staying with you. 

You have to admit you've grown fond of seeing her, too. Her face is more than easy on the eyes. Hearing her as well is an everyday delight; her soft voice is melodious, even when she's describing your crimes. 

So, what's there to say? 

"It's not right," Tzuyu says. The shakes of her head are too repetitive to be sincere. "I can't be biased towards you. I… I have to be professional."

"It's just you and me, sweet," you quip. Step closer so that her body's flush against your form and her gaze can go nowhere. "Live a little. Who cares if it's wrong?"

"My career—" she tries.

"Tzuyu. Come on. Fuck the convict you want so badly. I put you through enough already."

Understanding passes through her eyes, mingled with hesitation and a sprinkle of fear. She wonders, as she peers at your face from a taller height, how you knew about the whole crush ordeal. Was she too obvious? Flirty? Patient? It can be one or the other, and she'd still have to dial it down.

But her heart skips several beats that her words come unrehearsed. Your hands at her waist, so close yet so far to where she needs them to be, trigger her needs. 

So, there it is: she needs you. She has to accept that.

"O-okay," Tzuyu finally agrees. 

"There you are. You finally came around."

"Just shut up and fuck me."

"Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?" Your shameless kisses end up on her neck and collarbone that peek through the ends of her blazer and the neckline of her innerwear. "I know you thought about it, Tzuyu. How I'd bend you over on this desk, fuck your brains out, make you cum more times than you can count."

As you pull the blazer from her body, Tzuyu hisses, "Don't get too happy, dickhead."

How unprofessional of her. But you have to admit it feels powerful to be able to extract the most unladylike of words from a woman who'd never dare utter them. And you're just getting started—she's only sitting on the edge of her desk, and not even filled with your cock yet. 

Your fingers aren't idle. They appreciate her tall curves and the fullness of her thighs. They even slip under that pencil skirt to feel around for her center. 

Of course, you find it. You find it under a layer of flimsy shorts and panties. Tease her clit; have her legs join in attempts to undergo the stimulation. 

And then—

"Oh my god," she whines. Tzuyu purses her lips. Curls her fingers at the cliff of the desk. "Feels so good."

"I know it does," says you. "Why don't you return the favor? Jerk off my cock with those pretty hands?"

Her posture becomes too straight to be proper as you press your fingers at her sensitive pink walls. "I've done too much for you. Y-you don't deserve any more favors."

That's fair. She's still a smart girl, even when she's soaking your fingers. 

Can she be a good girl? To be a good girl or not to be—that is the question.

"You're right. My cock deserves to be inside you, not just in your hand."

The faster pace has Tzuyu's legs jerking. "Fuck you."

Chuckle. "You are."

Maybe you don't need a handjob as a warm-up. Your cock already erects by itself watching Tzuyu react and moan to your digits pumping in and out of her. Her beautiful arms, free from the blazer, struggle and strain to stay upwards with how quick you're fingerfucking her. Her unkempt whines are so unlike her that there's complete pride inside of you, an arrogance, even, that's birthed from the fact that you make her like this. You're so fucked up that it turns her on when it shouldn't, and now that you're fucking her, the immorality of everything gets her wet. 

"P-please," she says. Her doe eyes are watery with need. 

She's never said that outside of the courtroom, where she says that only for formality's sake. But here she is, anyway, begging you for something she'll have to spell out if she doesn't want you to go crazy and fuck her in every corner of her office. 

Maybe that's what you'd do anyway.

"What is it, Tzuyu?" you ask. Your fingers strain while the heel of your hand hits and rubs her clit. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need."

"Please," again, "faster. Oh my god, that's all I ever want, please go faster."

No more do her legs close. Rather, they part. They welcome your thrusts and rubs. She's completely allowing you to fuck her, despite how wrong it is and how it can screw up your future trials. Bias this and bias that are things she doesn't care about anymore. All she knows is that her nipples ache to be pinched, and her pussy awaits more of your thrusts because she's close. So close that she could taste euphoria already.

"Should I go rougher, hm?"

"Please, fffuck, I don't know." As you squeeze one of her handful-sized breasts, she bites her lip hard. "Just fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, make me c-cum—"

When Tzuyu orgasms, it's messy yet quiet. Her formality shows up even in sex. Her moans are tight and so is her pussy as it clenches down on your fulfilling digits, and you have to perk your ears up to hear her sounds of pleasure. She's still a quiet girl, barely talkative (though you've managed to pull a few pleas out of her already), and you're completely trying to change that with your pumps.

Your lips create a purple bruise on her neck. Tzuyu sighs and gasps helplessly. She's wetting your fingers like a flood, and you keep provoking the natural yet woman-made disaster; you drag your fingers at her velvety, weak spots and venture deeper. 

You don't have to ask her if it was good. She's panting heavily, and sucks on the soaked fingers you've led to her face to calm herself down. Watching her pink lips work away at your hand, as if she were suckling something completely different, makes you more turned on. Her warm wet mouth deserves to be somewhere else rather than just your pointer and middle.

"Now that wasn't so bad," you say. Draw them out of her mouth. "You didn't leave any for me to taste. How selfish."

"You still could." Tzuyu points to her mouth. 

It's clear that she's wanted you to kiss her forever. When your lips press against her mouth, she immediately slips her tongue inside. You return the favor, but also to have her own self-made taste of love. 

As expected, she's fucking delicious. 

You hold her head in place as the two of you kiss for seconds that felt like hours. After, you're breathless.

"You're a good kisser," she comments. 

"You want me to tell you what else is good?" 

"Oh, please. Show, not tell." 

Your belt's off and soon, your trousers are as well. Tzuyu's gazing at your hard cock with admiration. It just boosts your pride and arrogance—you can never tell the difference between the two when they mix and match with each other so often.

"No one told me criminals had big dicks," says Tzuyu. She skates her hand on your cock, stroking it softly. Her eyes have left it and instead seal on your faltering gaze. 

"You learn something new everyday." Try not to make your shuddering breaths obvious when she starts jerking you off. "You like?"

"I think… I think I want to suck it."

"Go ahead. No one's stopping you."

"There're a lot of people stopping me," she informs you. "If they find out I'm fucking a client, then what?"

She doesn't live up to her words of concern because she hops off the table cleanly and kneels anyway. Her small face looks even tinier next to your cock. And you realize now how her mouth is miniscule too after she wraps her lips around your cockhead. 

You shiver. 

Tzuyu's staring again. 

This time, her large eyes are directed up at you. She doesn't have to focus on your dick when her mouth is doing it for her. With each harsh swipe of her tongue on your tip and the drawing of her mouth closer to the base, your cock grows wetter with her drool and precum. 

"Your mouth is amazing, Tzuyu," you say. You're not afraid to admit that.

She responds to you not with words, but with more suckling. She closes her lips around your base then slowly brings her mouth up. She repeats this cycle of pleasure until your whole rod is coated with her. When she feels you throb in her orifice, she giggles—what's more satisfying than seeing the guy who put her through hell become weak?

You're in a daze of your own, too. As much as you like seeing Tzuyu dominate the court with her steady voice and no-nonsense look, she looks so much better when she's on her knees. When her hands wrap your hips to thrust her head forward and force your length down her tight throat. When the usually serious look in her eyes fades into obscurity and is replaced with an almost innocent look that says "come on, use me, fuck my mouth."

That's exactly what you do anyway. You don't need her prodding to fuck her pretty face.

Tzuyu's hums vibrate on your sensitive flesh. The back of your cock slides deliciously on her tongue and almost all of your rod slides down her throat. It bulges; you can tell even without looking down. She's a slim girl after all. It's easy to fuck and fold and use her. This situation isn't any different.

"Yeah, that's it," you say, grinning. "Take my cock, Tzuyu. Take it like a good girl."

Her ears burn. Her thighs squirm together, and that's how you find out that she might like being called a good girl more than you'd think. Stroking her hair that looks like it was personally woven with real gold has her whining. You can't believe the tough lawyer has a submissive side, too. 

Has she done this before? She seems to be taking the thrusts to the back of her throat well. Perhaps she simply enjoys this. You'll never know.

"I'm gonna cum, Tzuyu," you announce. "You better swallow it all like the slut you are."

Her cheeks hollow as your cum fills her mouth. Her lips remain sealed on your tip so the flow of your semen ends up nowhere but inside her. 

After you pull out, you realize then that you've just fucked your lawyer's face. It's like everything was a lucid dream that eventually blended into reality, because there's Tzuyu, still kneeling and gulping down your cum, and your cock out in the open between your bare legs. There are lines you've crossed before, but you never thought you'd do the same to the boundary that's been set between you and Tzuyu. 

Where's the rage you felt earlier? Why does arousal take its place?

"I'm not a slut, by the way," says Tzuyu airily. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm not your good girl either."

"Oh, alright. Does that mean you won't let me fuck you?"

"Jerk," she spits. "Your cock isn't even that big."

"I guess I should leave then. You were a good fuck, Tzuyu." 

Turn your heel with faux intention to exit, like she's told you to do earlier, but you're pulled towards her again. She tugs your wrist and pulls you to herself, her ass snug against the edge of the table and you pressed against her slim frame.

Okay, so—

"I fucking hate you." Tzuyu tears the buttons off your shirt with a clean rip, and kisses your chest. Your neck. Grabs your waist to ensure that you're going nowhere. " I hate that you're so fucking annoying. I hate that I can't spend all day fucking myself on your huge cock."

"Did you just say I had a huge cock?" 

"Like I said," Tzuyu snarls, "shut up."

Whatever snarky response you could have come up with on the spot is lost into an embarrassingly loud moan. She's forced your still sensitive cock inside her, and now her hips are dancing forward and back. It's a dance of death with how it bears its weight on your mind and girth. 

"Thought I told you to be quiet," she says smugly.

Her skirt has ridden up her waist. You take advantage of this to get a feel for her thighs. They're slim yet round at the same time, creating the perfect balance that fits your squeezing hands. Tug on them to pull her closer. Your remaining inches make it past her folds, and Tzuyu moans in delight.

"And I thought you didn't like me," you say. But it's difficult to be cocky when her tight little pussy is just that good, squeezing you as if determined to drain your might and taking you good and well. 

Tzuyu scoots her wide hips side to side, arms sedentary on the sides of the table as she rests down on it, and bites her lip. Intentional or not, it's too fucking sexy. "Things change."

So, that's how it works out: your lawyer on the flat of her desk, above scattered piles of papers describing your crimes and issuing your statements, with her legs spread around your midriff and receiving your cock as a traveller in the desert would receive water. She's desperate, is what you're saying—her gasps are timed to the beat of your thrusts, and she's accompanying it with soft curses. This whole sex thing could be a song, you see. Tzuyu can play the vocals, and her cleavage that bounces behind her vest could be looped and made into a matching music video. It's just so perfect.

"So good, you're so good," she sighs, her mind addled with thoughts of you ruining her insides and, probably, fill her up with semen. "Fuck me harder. Touch me. Use me, my god, just fuck me."

You pull up her vest to devour her breasts. The brown nipples end up in your mouth, suckled on and chewed, while the softness of her small tits are relished with squeezes. Tzuyu whimpers quietly, volume hushed down as it always is with her. Although her quiet whines turn you on, it's the will inside you to have the silent lawyer screaming that propels your thrusts. Drives them with a purpose that's so specific your hips could have a mind of their own. 

Dragging her vest off her torso is how you see that your cock is bulging through her tight midriff. The lines of her abs hide not your cock forcing yourself through her hole. Tzuyu notices it, too, and you feel her become wetter underneath you, because she loves it. She loves how wrong this is, how she's letting a person she shouldn't even be acquaintances with outside of her career use her like a doll.

"P-please," she says (for the millionth time, yes, but you'll never grow tired of hearing it.)

"Should I go harder?" Do exactly that, rutting her against the table, even without her answer. "Rub this little thing here?"

Tzuyu cries out. There's a completed mission—you've finally forced her to scream, and it's all thanks to your thumb toying with her clit.

"Oh my god!" she yelps. She looks at you with eyes filled with shock at how good it feels. "Oh my god, yes, keep doing that! It feels so—fuck!"

"Keep screaming like that and I'll make you cum. Do you want to cum, Tzuyu?"

She nods dumbly. "Yes, make me cum. M-make me cum around that stupid big dick, I love it so much, please!"

You're reaching places inside her that her own fingers couldn't embark to. The bulge on her stomach goes farther, and you think of how you're rearranging her guts so deliciously, how she's pounding at the table in frustration and pleasure and screaming, and how you can give her bliss with just a few more pumps.

Your thrusts hold purpose—they're driven by Tzuyu's boobs lifting with the creaks of her desk, the squeeze of her pussy as it swallows you whole, the helpless look on her face. She's so beautiful, really, and you're glad to be able to—

"Gonna make me cum!" she wails. "Gonna make me cum, gonna make me cum, don't fucking stop!"

Tzuyu's pleasure reaches an all-time high. She clenches as hard as her muscles can bear and screams. Her throat must be sore because of that, so you don't forget to kiss all over it as you extract a violent orgasm from her with rough, untimed pumps. 

She's shivering, eyes unfocused. She's rambling senseless words that don't quite give clues to what they should be comprehended as.

That's exactly what you want.

You pull out. "I want to fuck your thighs." Show so after that: slip your dick in between her soft, supple skin, and add, "Gonna explode on that fucking stomach."

"W-why not inside me?" whines Tzuyu. She closes her eyes as your cock unintentionally brushes over her folds and prods at her bundle of nerves.

"You're already fighting to give me custody of my kid," you chuckle. "What makes you think I want another?"

Tzuyu manages a laugh. You're too laser-focused on fucking her thighs though to appreciate her first love beauty when she smiles, since you're as close as you can be. With the soft flesh holding your length captive as you pray for your soul not to be by the eyes of justice, you have no choice but to do what you said: cum on her tight midriff.

White above tan skin is a beautiful color on your lawyer.

"You're… you're a little evil, you know that?" Tzuyu makes out. She glances at the puddle of cum on her rising stomach with fascination.

"Oh, love." Lean down to kiss her, with your arm pillaring the space on the table not occupied with paperwork. "You're just now figuring that out?"