#something quick to break in the new work space.
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moonlightrafe · 2 days ago
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So It Goes…
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summary: A stressful premiere and alcohol lead to you hooking up with Drew for the first time.
pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader
word count: 1.4k
warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mention of social anxiety, brief Odessa mention:/, p in v sex, creampie 18+ MDNI
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You imagine this is how animals feel at the zoo, put on display to be gawked at all day. Anxiety grips at your chest as the eyes of strangers feel like laser beams, dissecting every flaw, as if they’re waiting for you to mess up. As if they want you to.
You were the only one of Drew’s costars to attend the premiere for his new movie ‘Queer’ and the thought of the online rumors was enough to make your blood pressure go through the roof.
Drew is staying at a hotel nearby for the night, out of convenience— and you are over the moon when he invites you back for a drink. To sit and have a drink. Debrief. That’s all, nothing else.
The ride up in the elevator feels endless, your heart pounding in the small, confined space. Neither of you speaks, but the silence crackles with something unspoken, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a tether.
When the door to his room clicks shut behind you, your pulse spikes. He gestures to the small table near the window, where two glasses and a bottle of something amber sit waiting. You take a seat, trying to act casual, but your hands tremble as you reach for the glass he pours for you.
The conversation starts light—work, the evening’s events—but there’s an edge to it now, a pull that grows stronger with every glance he sends your way. His knee brushes against yours under the table, and you swear he doesn’t move it. The air feels heavier, charged, like a storm about to break.
Drew leans back in his chair, his eyes holding yours for a beat too long.
“I really appreciate you coming out tonight. You look beautiful,” he says softly, his voice carrying an honesty that sends a shiver through you.
Your laugh is nervous, an attempt to break the tension, “you’re just saying that.”
“I’m not,” he replies, leaning forward now, his forearms resting on the table, his face impossibly close, “I mean it.”
“And what about Odessa?” You question, raising an eyebrow at him as your lips threaten to curve into a smirk.
“There’s nothing going on there. Come on, don’t act like the girls online.”
You giggle, slightly embarrassed as your breath catches, your gaze dropping to his lips before you can stop yourself. His eyes darken, catching the flicker of movement, and the space between you feels like it’s shrinking by the second.
“This is… dangerous,” you murmur, but you don’t move away.
“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice low, almost a whisper.
“It is.”
Could it be possible he has feelings for you, too?
And then his hand brushes yours, tentative at first, testing. The electricity is undeniable. His fingers close over yours, and for a moment, the world outside his hotel room ceases to exist.
Drew grabs your hand and guides you over to the large bed. One hand is wraps around the back of your neck while the other slaps down against the swell of your ass, causing you to yelp.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me in this dress?” He rasps, his voice a low growl. He massages the stinging skin through the thin fabric of your dress before pushing you back, quickly holding up your leg to unfasten the buckle on your shoe.
"Just tell me what you want, baby, and I'll do it."
"I just want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with vulnerability, as he places a quick kiss to your ankle.
His lips linger there for a beat, warm and soft against your skin, sending a shockwave up your spine. He looks up at you then, his eyes molten with intent, and the air between you feels like it might ignite.
Slowly, deliberately, his fingers trail up your calf, his touch light enough to leave goosebumps in its wake.
"You really have no idea what you're doing to me," Drew murmurs, his voice low and rough, like he's barely holding himself back.
Your breath hitches, your heart hammering as he leans closer, his hands steadying while your shoe finally drops to the floor with a soft thud. The world narrows to just the two of you, every rational thought dissolving in the heat of the moment.
His hand slides to your thigh, anchoring you as his lips skim upward, following a path that makes your pulse race. The tension coils tighter.
"Say it again," he breathes against your skin, his lips hovering just above your knee now, teasing, tempting.
"I want you," you repeat, your voice steadier this time, each word carrying the weight of your desire, “wanted you for so long…”
Drew takes no time to hike your dress up over your waist, practically ripping your underwear off of you. He smells good, like expensive cologne and nicotine. His lips find their way to your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as his ring-clad fingers ghost down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
You arch into him, wanting more as he helps you remove your dress entirely, discarding onto the floor.
Drew continues to move at an agonizingly slow pace, taking his time with you as his lips make their way from your throat down to your chest.
Your breath hitches once his tongue finally comes in contact with your nipple, taking your flesh into his mouth, gently suckling, careful not to apply too much pressure.
Your mind is going hazy as arousal leaks from your core, grinding down harder on him.
Drew continues to suck at your breast, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he grinds against you with ease. His eyes are closed, his mind completely lost to the sensation of you in his mouth. Your body trembles against him and he feels it, your small whimpers and moans sending waves urging him on.
He pulls away slowly, and you wince at the loss of contact. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses across your skin as he looks up at you with glassy eyes.
You lean back, positioning yourself so that you have access to the button of his slacks.
“Can I?” you ask.
He nods his head eagerly, unbuttoning them for you and yanking the zipper down with quickness.
You wrap your hand around his length, tugging gently as your free hand flies to the back of his head, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.
You lean down to cup and squeeze his balls as he sucks at your right breast.
Drew pulls back again and grips at your hips before he flips you onto your stomach.
His large frame towers over you as he spreads your legs open, pumping his cock a few times before he enters you mercilessly. Every inch of his thick, veiny length making you whimper pathetically as he fills you.
Drew lets out a low hiss at how tight you feel around him. He watches as your eyes roll back, your jaw slackening as he buries himself inside you. He hooks your legs around his hips, splitting you open on his cock as he begins to rut against you.
“You’re even more perfect than I imagined, fuck… squeezing me so well.”
His words barely even register, the feeling of him moving in and out of you, filling you so perfectly, the fat head of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust rendering you speechless.
He lets go of your breast to grab your throat, squeezing hard enough that your vision begins to blur, “fuckin’ made for me.”
He glances downward and sees the way his cock pushes against your stomach, the bulge visible against your skin every time he thrusts. He presses down on it, the sensation making you let out a squeal as he fucks into you even harder, deeper.
“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Make a mess on my cock?” He asks as his opposite hand trails down to rub figure eights on your clit.
“Fuck, yes. I’m gonna cum! Please, please, Drew...” you chant as he picks up the pace.
Before you know it, you’re gushing onto his length, threatening to pull his own release from him.
“You want me to cum inside you? Huh, baby? Fill this pretty pussy up?”
“Yes, please, fill me up, need you so bad….”
Within seconds Drew is shooting hot, pearly, ropes inside you, causing you to moan loudly.
He pulls out and collapses next to you on the bed.
“Fuck.”
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papyriasks · 2 days ago
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Heya, wanted to send in an ask about UF,US,SF and FS Papyruses (Papyri?) about how they show affection? Maybe how they pine after their crush? Whatever you wanna include just go wild with it! ☕🙏
The Papyri when they have a crush
(Underfell, underswap,swapfell, fellswap & fellswap Gold edition)
(Thank you for the ask too, I hope I answered it correctly :] )
UF (Boss): You will know this man likes you when you can start to get away with little things you couldn't before, instead of threats of violence when you sneakily "taste test" dinner he'll shoot you a side eye with a tap of his heel, or a pinch of the bridge bone when you've done something dumb. He has absolutely zero clue on how to initiate affection, but will subtly position himself in ways in which require you to brush past him or interact with him in some manner, craving your touch. When he gets bashful it often manifests as silent glaring, but you know him well enough that he isn't really angry. He is very cat like when pining over someone, in the sense that he pretends not to care for your presence at all but conveniently always ends up in the same room as you, and oh, he brought you food but not because he thought of you but just because it would go to waste otherwise definitely not any other reason..
US (Slim): Slim is a bit of a romantic, which surprises a lot of people as he isn't often very open about it, but he's the type to rock up to your work with a coffee and a baked good just to chill with you on your lunch break. He'll find out your star sign so he can read your zodiac love compatibility analysis online and looks for your initials on those "your initials your cats" tiktok slides. That being said he's still a bit of a hard one to get to know, sometimes you may catch him staring but if you go to say anything about it he'll just a quickly go to give you a quick ruffle on the head, call you pal and make a quick escape almost like he's shutting down any attempts to return affection. Secretly he's nervous to fuck things up, everyone expects him to be the laid back, no worries guy but letting someone in is letting them know he's got some baggage to him, and feels as though it will drive them away.
SF(Cash): If Cash has caught feelings for you, the first sign will be the fact you will be his new favourite person to annoy the fuck out of. Oh? You thought you were going to be able to quietly wash those dishes with nothing but your thoughts? Think again cause he's already leaning his full body weight against your shoulder pestering you. Cash hates sharing things but for you? You want it, it's yours now. Oh, you really like the bracelet he's got on? No sooner has he pulled you by the hand and transferred it from his wrist to yours. He always has an excuse to drag you along to some shenanigan or midnight adventure, but really he just loves having you around. He's a teaser, will tease you to no end, play the right card and tease him back and you might actually be able to fluster him. He's already a bit of a 'no idea what personal space is' kind of guy but if he's caught feelings he's always looking for opportunities to touch you, whether that's throwing his arm over your shoulder as you're walking or outright sitting right on top of you.
FS (Mutt): very protective, prefers to walk slightly behind you, always watching for any kind of threat and will challenge any stare with a twice as chilling one in return. is the kind of guy to silently notice that you're cold walking at night and without even asking he's draped his coat right over you. He's a little bit more bold in terms of how he behaves when he likes you, if you go to tease him he'll pull you in by the collar until you're a breath away and tease you right back. he's not the type to fall for someone easily , or even actively search in the first place, so if he ends up catching feelings know that he's set on you. The patient type, you don't need to return his feelings or like him back right away, but he'll wait, until it's the right time to have you. If you smoke he's always inviting you outside to share a late night smoke where the two of you will chat all night. Reliable and immensely loyal, will drop everything at any time of day or night to come help you with whatever you need if you so much as shoot him a text asking, though often times you won't even have to ask as he's often already lingering around uninvited.
FS Gold (Coffee): a nervous mess, and the definition of handsy. He is naturally very touchy with his friends so you might not pick up on his little crush immediately and you best believe he will fully well take advantage of that to constantly be all over you. He loves art and you will quickly become a big subject of his works, little squiggles in his notepad to full pieces of digital art. Can become a little jealous if he feels like you don't dedicate enough time to him despite not even being in a relationship with him. He will try to hide his crush from his brother as long as possible but once it comes out you better hope you're in his brothers good books.. that being said he won't stop gushing about you to Wine, you're always on his thoughts, and you're always his favourite thing to talk about. He's a lot more mischievous when he feels comfortable with someone and uses his more innocent and unseeming persona to drop subtle little compliments or semi-flirtatious lines to rile you up and then pretend like he had no idea what he said could be conveyed any other way.. if you do the same back he will 100% blush until his skull is another colour and will probably need 10-15mins to do a full reboot though.
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cadhla182 · 5 months ago
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Robin
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superhoeva · 3 months ago
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bouncer!logan using his break to fuck you silly in the bar bathroom after you come a visit him at work. such a sweet thing, driving down here just to see him and bring him something other than bar food.
he couldn't care less that you're dressed in a t-shirt, sweatpants, and shoes that should've been chucked out ages ago. you're here for him. running around town and bringing food for him.
a hand settles over your mouth to muffle your loud moans and his chest presses hard against your back at he plunges inside you. you're leaking a mess, and logan finds it's a fucking sight whenever he pulls back enough to see how well his dick is splitting you open.
the man is certain he won't be able to hold it long, thinking of you. how good you are to him. the way you kissed his chin at the door. he's trying. really, he is. rutting and gnawing a sore into his bottom lip, groaning every time his hips snap against your ass.
huffs of hot air pants out against the shell of your ear, and logan is damn near drooling as he whispers rather loudly at how infuckingcredible you are for squeezing around him like you are.
"who told you you could feel this good, huh? and who told you to be so sweet to me, hm? " he grunts, smirking at the pitiful response you whimper out in return. tears are welling in your eyes as he shifts his hips, the new angle punching the head of his cock right into your spot. you both share a broken groan that echoes against the cool walls of the bathroom. "shit, there it is. right there. right there, yeah? s'at it?"
you jerk with heavy gasps into logan's palm. the world blurs, and a rush of heat floods over you at a suffocating rate. your peak only drags logan's along, the man smashing himself against you in a noisy, shaky hover.
logan doesn't want you to leave after. the soft hand and long kiss that rubs against your cheek after he pulls up your sweats tells you that much.
so instead of you driving back home with shaky legs and a hazy head, logan settles you in a booth near the very back of the bar. right in his eye line and content in the quieter space with however many drinks and snacks you want.
his attention is split for the rest of the shift–dutifully scanning his sharp gaze over the entire room while keeping himself where he can see and get to you quick if he needs. he ends up chuckling to himself when he's allowed to go home for the night, only to find you slumped next to an empty basket that used to hold the house fries he ordered you in a light sleep.
head tilted and eyes soft as you snore quietly, logan just watches you for a moment. grinning a little at how easy you are to tire out.
soon enough, he's coaxing you from the booth with soft coos and shushes whenever you whine about not wanting to move.
he cuddles you with strong arms into his side the entire way to his truck, promising to come back and get your car in the morning. it's the least he can do...
more bouncer!logan | send in bouncer!logan ideas
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© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚
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watchmegetobsessed · 2 months ago
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UNMATCHED
A/N: it's been like 6 months since i last posted something and honestly, i haven't even written anything, things are very shitty these days but i felt the motivation to write this quickly after watching 'tell me lies' and 'rivals' these past weeks so here we go! if student-prof type of fics are not your thing then don't read it
WORD COUNT: 2.6k
WARNING: age gap, student-professor relationship
SUMMARY: Harry is very strict about staying away from students as a young and handsome professor, but there is one person he can't get out of his head and a Christmas party brings an unexpected turn.
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Harry hates these type of parties, mostly because he can’t imagine inviting dozens of students into his home, his private space, have the roam around and spend an entire evening with them, talking and pretending like they aren’t just trying to get a better grade at the end of the semester with their too friendly behavior. Or, in his case, some girls try to push the boundaries and flirt with him, hoping to hook up with him. 
He is not stupid. He has heard students whisper about him several times, he notices the heart eyes when he is talking in class and he has gotten several phone numbers on papers since he started his PHD studies and started teaching last year. His friends teased him about being the heartthrob of the faculty, but he didn’t think it would actually happen and to this extent. To avoid any possible scandals, not that he planned to make any, he has put on quite a rigid mask towards the students to scare them off from even trying, though that hasn’t stopped some of them from wanting to shoot their shot. 
He wouldn’t have come to this party, he would rather be home and continue his research that’s still not even close to being done, but Professor Bradford, or Stella as she requests Harry to call her, is the only person he gets along with in the faculty. She is 18 years older than Harry, but still younger than the rest of the old men who have been teaching here since probably before the declaration of independence was signed. Those men are the reason younger people don’t like classic literature anymore, with their outdated ways of teaching and unwillingness to bring something modern into their lectures they are scaring the new generations away. But not Stella. She is one of the reasons Harry went into his PHD and now he gets to work with her. He couldn’t just reject her invitation for her annual Christmas Party she holds for her students and some colleagues. 
Now he is standing by the wall, drinking mulled wine and just gritting his teeth, trying to calculate how early is too early to leave. A couple of girls have already tried to chat him up, they like to circle him, leave him almost no room to escape and then make him talk about school stuff, but then they slyly bring up personal things, hoping to break his usual character, but he sees through them always. 
Harry’s best friend, Niall always teases him that he should just give in and have fun with one of them. His morals are a lot looser than Harry’s, that’s for sure. 
Just as he is about to look for the bathroom, not to use it but to hide for a bit, another group of girls spots him and he can already feel his skin crawling as they approach him from down the hallway. He is quick to assess the situation, but he realizes he has no chance of fleeing before they reach him. 
“Profesor! So good to see you here!” 
And here we go. 
It goes the same, they are extremely nice and inquiring about his plans for the next semester and then suddenly they are talking about summer and Harry knows they are moments away from asking what he’ll be doing once the school year is over. One of the girls is talking about going to Italy on a yacht and the others chime in with their own ridiculously over the top plans while Harry is avoiding to even look at them, his eyes roam around the other guests. 
That’s when he sees her. 
Just down the hall he can peek into the kitchen and there she is, with a boy Harry assumes to be her boyfriend. He’s seen them around campus the past few weeks, he even waited for her after Harry’s class and saw them walk away together as he fought the way his stomach churned every time. 
Since the moment she walked into his class at the beginning of the semester Harry has been feeling like he is losing his mind. Whether it be the way she laughs with her friends before class or focuses with undivided attention as Harry explains something by the board, or says hello every time she passes him in the cafeteria, Harry can’t stop thinking about her for days after even though he knows such feelings should be banned from his mind when it comes to a student. Every time he catches himself thinking about her he wants to throw himself out the window, but he still can’t fight it. There’s something in her that draws him in and swallows him whole and it’s not just the looks. Unlike a lot of students who take his classes for easy credits or to drool after him, she is there to learn as much as she can and she’s had the most brilliant thoughts on certain subjects Harry has ever encountered, making him almost jealous he wasn’t the one to think about them. 
She is… unmatched. And forbidden, but impossible to ignore. She’s been his vice for months.
From where he stands it appears she is having a fight with said boyfriend, her always cheerful expression is now rather upset and confused while the boy seems to be over the conversation, almost irritated by her, dismissed. Harry tries to appear not too obvious about watching them, but he is also way too fixated on her to ignore what’s happening just down the hallway. 
He glances away just for a few seconds, but the next time he looks back he sees the boy stomping away, irritated, while she is left there, pulling on her coat before disappearing through the backdoor, swallowed by the darkness of the unlit back terrace. 
And before Harry could stop himself, he is already moving.
“Excuse me girl,” he mumbles disorientedly as he slips out of the small circle. 
He places his glass to a nearby table and then grabs his own coat from the wardrobe in the hallway before making his way outside. After her. 
The moment he steps out into the cold a short sense of realization washes over him that he definitely shouldn’t be here, that he is crossing a line, but then another voice in his head tunes it out, convincing him that he is just making sure she is okay and there’s nothing wrong with that. 
Stopping by the door his gaze rakes through the terrace, but he doesn’t see her, until she spots her slouched form sitting on the bottom of the stairs leading out to the lawn. He hears her sniffling, but she hasn’t acknowledged his presence yet, if she noticed it at all. There’s a couple of moments of hesitation on his end, he can hear the rational side of him screaming somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him to turn around and just walk back inside, yet he still finds himself moving towards him and then that voice is silenced. 
“Everything alright?” Harry asks from the top of the stairs, but he startles her so much that she jumps to her feet and backs away a few feet. That’s when he sees her tearful eyes and red nose. 
“S-Sorry, I don’t–”
“Hey, it’s all good. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just checking in.”
She squints her eyes at him and that’s when he realizes she must not even see his face since the light is coming right behind him. So he walks down the stairs and then finally his face is lit and realization settles in her eyes. 
“Oh, Professor Styles. Hi.”
“Hello Y/N. Are you okay?” he asks again, to which she just chuckles bitterly. 
He can’t miss that even with tears running down her cheeks and her eyelashes stuck together, she looks so fucking beautiful it baffles him. He has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her tear-soaked cheeks. 
“Um, yeah, everything is… perfect,” she scoffs, reaching into her pockets, probably looking for tissues, but finding none so Harry grabs one from his inner pocket, handing it over to her, her fingers brushing against his for the shortest second as she takes it and then it’s over, but his skin keeps tingling. 
“Thanks,” she mumbles before drying her face as much as she can. “I’m good. Just…” She looks at him and changes her mind. “Ah, wouldn’t want to bore you with my nonsense personal drama.”
“Drama is never boring, have you learned nothing in my class?” he jokes and it actually makes her laugh. 
“This drama is not worthy of being taught in class though.”
“I bet some of the big names thought the same thing upon writing what we read in class these days.”
“So you’re saying I should write about how my boyfriend is fed up with me because I told him something he did hurt me?”
“That sounds like something I bet a lot of people would want to read about,” he smiles and when she mirrors it, he can feel his chest expanding. Somewhere way too deep in his mind an alarm goes off, but it quickly becomes one with the void and all he can think about is her. “Actually I can think of a few great pieces that are about similar topics.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, believe it or not, you’re not the first one to experience this.”
The way she looks at him is setting him on fire. The mixture of sadness, tiredness and gratitude towards his attempt to cheer her up is still making her glow in a way Harry has never seen before on any woman. 
“Do you mind analyzing one for me right now?”
“I’d be happy to.”
The party is completely tuned out for the two of them. First they actually talk about a novel, but soon it turns into sharing their favorite books and authors, their guilty pleasure reads,  recommendations for each other and even more personal bits Harry would never share with a student, but Y/N is the exception. 
They have no idea how much time passes as they stand outside and Harry ignores how the cold starts to sting his fingertips even in his pockets, because he knows that if they go inside this bubble will pop and he is too selfish to let that happen just yet. 
When there’s a short silence Harry notices that she is probably slipping back into what happened earlier and when she looks at him again he already knows she is about to share.
“I gave him a chance and explicitly told him not to fuck me over, because I can’t deal with that again. But all he has been doing is manipulating to believe that I’m always in the wrong.”
“It’s impossible for you to always be in the wrong.”
“I know. Well, part of me knows, but then I always go back to thinking that he is right, I must have messed up something.”
“That just proves that you have self-criticism, that you don’t just think everything you do is perfect.”
She sighs and looks away, her gaze distant as she battles herself inside her head, a feeling Harry knows very well, unfortunately. It doesn’t sit right with him that she is visibly struggling because of an immature guy’s untreated problems. She deserves so much more, but how can he tell that without crossing a line?
“Give it some time and you’ll see it clearer. Use your critical thinking on his actions as well, not just yours and don’t settle for less than your worth.”
“You think I did that?” she asks, eyes jumping back to meet his gaze. “You think I settled for less than my worth?”
There’s more behind her eyes than the words she said out loud and he is torn, because he can feel himself being pulled in more than ever, like she just opened the door the slightest and he has the chance to slip in. It’s the first time he senses something on her part and after all the yearning he is eager to take the chance. 
“I think you deserve a lot more, Y/N. You’re brilliant, bright and give so much to others, you should get the same amount if not more back. If someone can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”
For a second he wishes he didn’t say a thing, he regrets crossing the line and he fears her reaction, but then… 
Then he forgets everything. Because she is kissing him. 
It happens fast, one moment she is staring up at him with doe eyes, the next her lips are crashing against his, her hands grabbing onto the lapels of his coat. He barely recovers from the shock when she is already pulling away.
“I-I’m so sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I just—Oh my Go–”
Her stammering is quickly cut short when he kisses her, his hands holding her jaw to angle her face perfectly and while her kiss was closed, rushed and panicked, this one is different. He is quick to beg for her to open her lips so he can explore as much of her as humanly possible, he is letting all the passions loose that he’s been locking up these past months and when she returns it just as eagerly it just pushes him even further. 
They inch back to the wall of the house and when he pins her against it a moan slips past her swollen lips, completely maddening him. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against her lips, kissing her jawline, savoring the sweet taste of her skin that’s supposed to be cold, but it’s actually burning. For him. 
He keeps one hand on the side of her neck, the other one digs into her hip through her coat and she keeps pushing against him, while her hands wander under his coat, they are on his waist, back and when they move to his lower stomach, brushing against his belt, something snaps inside him. 
But before he could completely lose his mind the backdoor opens and he quickly sobers up, pulling her farther away from the corner so they can’t be seen. 
“...and that was actually crazy,” a girl speaks up, oblivious to how Harry has Y/N pinned against the wall just a few feet away. They are both breathing heavily, but she has her face buried in his shoulder while he covers his mouth with a hand, adrenaline racing through his veins. 
“Ah shit, I’m out of cigarettes,” another girl says.
“Mm let’s get out of here then. I think Max said they are having a little party as well.”
“Okay.”
Then the door opens again and the voices disappear, but reality hits Harry hard in the head.
He slowly pulls back, enough to look at her face and when he sees her swollen lips and slightly smeared mascara he almost combusts. 
Because he wants nothing more than to take her, right here and then everywhere else in the world, but he also realizes what he just did and this time his rational side wins. 
“Fuck,” he gasps as he jumps back, cupping a hand over his mouth.
“I wanted it–”
“Y/N, stop!” he cuts her off. “Fuck, this was a mistake.”
“But I wanted it! You didn’t–”
“I said stop!” he barks and she shuts her mouth right away. “This shouldn’t have happened.”
And before she could protest again or worse, kiss him again, he is already storming back inside, across the house towards the front door.
“Harry! I haven’t seen you all night!” Stella catches him, but he just wants to get as far away from this house and from Y/N as possible.
“I’m sorry, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later,” is all he manages to say before he is already out the door.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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hausofwoo · 6 months ago
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swallow | park seonghwa
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pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader
word count: 5.6K
this is part 2 of open wide! if you have not yet read part 1, i highly suggest reading it first.
summary: ever since that night, seonghwa has been avoiding you. but when new guy yunho starts at the restaurant, tensions rise until it reaches a breaking point.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender!seonghwa, server!reader, enemies to lovers trope, smoking (cigarette), alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up y'all), dick slapping, biting, cumplay, oral (f receiving), face sitting, creampie, degrading, use of petnames (princess, baby), the passion is T H E R E, woosan allegations once again, feat. new guy!yunho, server/work bestie!ryujin, servers!wooyoung and san, restaurant manager!hongjoong.
author's note: i already intended on making a part 2 of open wide, and everyone's feedback was so sweet and helpful on part 1! thank u again to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers as always :-) plz enjoy ♡ ✧*
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your eyes flutter open to the birds chirping outside. it’s way too fucking early to be awake right now. you feel yourself in a half-dream half-awake state, mind fuzzy and floaty. you turn your head to the side to see the man you spent the night with; the man who made you feel so good.
you rub your eyes a bit, attempting to wipe away the sleepiness. your vision adjusts, and you take a deeper look at him. seonghwa.
he really is beautiful. perfectly plump lips, long eyelashes, and there’s something about the way his nose is just a liiiiittle bit bumped at the bridge. even in his flaws you find beauty. you can’t resist gazing at him while he sleeps, his hair all messy in his face. why is it that he is so beautiful, yet the way he treats you is so far from that?
he shifts a bit, letting out a gentle sigh. your eyes begin to droop again, and you feel yourself drift off to the sound of his soft breathing.
when you wake, your bed feels cold. he left. you sit up slowly, stretching your arms up to ring out the exhaustion from your body. you look back at the empty spot next you.
it’s interesting that he left without a word, but you don’t know what to make out of it. before last night, you clearly couldn’t stand each other. you thought he was conceited and condescending. he was rude. and even during last night, his ego pooled over. but was the mere thought of missing him childish? you can’t help but to feel like there was something more to it. there was something on a deeper level that made you curious, therefore you wanted it back even more so. you started to feel like those girls from the movies; the ones where the girl becomes clingy after a one night stand. a cliché.
so what if he didn’t stay? it’s not like he actually felt anything for you. it was just a quick fuck. you probably were just another girl that he decided to throw a bone to. that’s what cocky men like him enjoy; just someone to string along and play with until he’s bored with them. you figured that time came sooner than you expected. well fuck him.
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he hasn’t made eye contact with you once since you came in to work. you have the section right in front of the bar (thanks for nothing, hongjoong) so you have to just bear through it every time you pass him by. you prep your tables for service, wiping them down mindlessly.
you suppose there isn’t really a right way to go about this. sleeping with a coworker is a no-no, especially in restaurants. it gets messy (but it happens nonetheless). it’s not like you can go up to him and talk to him as if nothing happened. he didn’t exactly set you up for success either. he left without a word, and now you’re forced into the same space as him, clueless as to what to do. you decide to just ignore him unless absolutely necessary.
ryujin hops over next to you, a little too peppy for how you’re feeling.
“are you ready for a great service tonight?” ryujin says sarcastically, but with a grin.
“i want it to be over already,” you force out a dry chuckle, still half-assing the prep for your tables.
“the hell is wrong with you?” ryujin snorts.
“i’ll just—“ you start, but then realize you felt eyes burning into you. you look up the moment seonghwa’s gaze shifts, going back to wiping down the bar. “um, i’ll tell you later.”
“okay…” ryujin says, puzzled. she walks back to her section to prep.
your eyes are compelled to shift back up to seonghwa. at this point it just feels embarrassing to be wondering what he’s thinking, wondering if he felt what you felt sunday night. your thoughts are interrupted by hongjoong approaching you with a tall man, someone new.
“this is yunho,” hongjoong says, almost presenting the man to you. “he’s going to be trailing you tonight. just show him the ropes and i’ll grab him once dinner service slows down.”
yunho steps forward, extending a hand to you. “it’s so nice to meet you!” he gives you a warm smile as you shake his hand.
“it’s nice to meet you too, yunho,” you say, surprised by the immediate kindness. this feels a lot nicer than how you’ve been treated before.
tuesday nights are usually slow, even during dinner service. you had a decent amount of tables, but nothing you couldn’t handle. and fortunately the new guy caught on really quickly, grabbing the drinks for your tables, clearing empty plates when needed… working with him was making your shift a breeze.
“you’ve worked in restaurants before, haven’t you?” you ask yunho. you refill a water jug for your table with him in the back.
“yeah, i have,” he says meekly, rubbing the back of his neck. “you can tell?”
“definitely,” you nod with a smile. “what happened at the last place?”
“the management,” he chuckles, and you knew exactly what he meant without any explanation. “don’t tell anyone, but i quit without notice.”
you fake a gasp, pretending to clutch your pearls. you let out a light-hearted laugh. “don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
yunho gives a sweet smile to you, eye contact lingering a bit. you look down and realize the jug of water started overflowing and quickly move it away, letting out a humored yelp.
“oops,” he whispers, and you both giggle quietly to each other while wiping down the mess.
little did you know, seonghwa was entering the back to switch kegs for the beer on tap, and he walked in on your giggle-fest. he looks between the two of you momentarily as he continues to the back. you don’t even notice him until he passes. in a strange way, you can almost see annoyance radiating off of him. but maybe you’re making things up?
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at the end of service, you finish closing all your tabs and count your tips at the bar with ryujin and wooyoung. yunho was in the back with hongjoong, debriefing the shift. you assumed seonghwa was in the back too, but you pushed away the curiosity.
“what a slow night,” ryujin sighs. she holds up her measly few bills and fakes a cry.
“how was training the new guy?” wooyoung inquires, packing his things.
“it was really good,” you can’t help but smile a little too big. your face drops when seonghwa walks back out to the bar, carrying a pack of beer to restock. you swear he steals a glance at you before kneeling down to refill the low-boys.
“speak of the devil!” ryujin grins, with all of you shifting your view to see yunho walking to the bar with an apron in hand.
“i think you guys might be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, fake-cockily. the three of you congratulate him, all while seonghwa minds to himself.
“when��s your next shift then?” you ask.
“hongjoong said i’ll train the rest of the week, and then my first day live is sunday,” he says, throwing his bag on his shoulder.
“you know what that means…” wooyoung voices mischievously.
“uhhh, what does that mean?” yunho utters, a curious expression on his face.
“sunday celebration!” ryujin throws her hands up in excitement.
“what the hell is sunday celebration?” yunho laughs.
“basically,” ryujin starts, “it’s where we all go out after our shift to a dive bar nearby and drink away our sorrows. but this time we can drink in ACTUAL celebration!”
“i could be down for that,” yunho says. he looks directly to you. “will i see you there?”
your lips part to answer, but your ears are punctured by glass shattering, and the sound of beer fizzing on the floor. your head snaps over to see seonghwa grumbling and picking up the pieces.
“party foul!” wooyoung says jokingly, but then was met with seonghwa’s glare. “kidding…”
you stand from the bar stool and gather your things, taking the cue to leave. “i’m gonna head out. yunho, see you tomorrow?”
“yup,” he says, holding back a smile. “i’ll see you then.”
you turn to walk to the door, feeling eyes like daggers piercing your back.
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seonghwa is messing up a lot lately. which is very unlike him, being that he’s a perfectionist. you rang up an order of drinks for your tables, and yeah it was quite a few drinks, but you had never seen him mistake a gin martini for a vodka martini. you approach the drink pass with the misfired drink, setting it down.
“seonghwa,” you call to him, pointing at the drink. “i need a gin martini.”
“that IS a gin martini,” he says flatly, filling a beer from the tap. so sure of himself.
“no,” you insist. “this is vodka.”
he approaches the pass, setting down the beer with its appropriate ticket. he plucks a cocktail straw to do a straw taste of the drink. but with the sip, he wasn’t remotely shaken. he just tosses the liquid in the sink, remaking it without a word.
“you just gonna stand there and watch?” he says while stirring the beverage.
“are you gonna make it right this time?” you snap.
he places the drink on the pass, clearly pissed off. he slams the ticket next to the drink and glares at you, almost too close. you feel the huffs of his irritated breaths fanning your face, and for the first time since that night, you really look at each other. but all that was tangible in the air was anger.
“run your drink, princess.” he enunciates your nickname, packing a punch.
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after finishing your closing duties, you’re ready to leave and put this shift behind you. you wave goodbye to your coworkers and start heading out the back door, it being held open by a loose brick. just as your feet hit the pavement of the alley, you hear your name being called behind you.
“wait!” you turn to yunho calling after you, and stopping in the doorway. “you leaving?”
“oh, uh, yeah,” you say, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “i got all my side work done so i’m heading home.”
“oh, okay,” he says shyly, obviously with a second thought on his mind.
you look at each other for a moment, but not out of awkwardness, just with a peculiar feeling of enticement.
“so um, how was training with wooyoung today?” you ask.
“oh yeah,” yunho laughs. “it was good. he’s really funny with his tables.”
“yeah, that guy’s definitely a yapper,” you both giggle to each other in amusement.
“sooo… you’re walking home?” he asks, leaning on the frame of the door.
“i usually walk home, i don’t live that far,” you explain.
“me too! maybe i can walk you—“ yunho gets cut off by seonghwa barging into the doorway.
“can i borrow her for a sec?” seonghwa says, barely making it a question.
yunho hesitantly nods, “yeah, um, i guess i’ll see you later?” he says to you, giving you a small wave.
“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow yunho,” you force a smile, with a pleading HELP ME written behind your eyes.
seonghwa leads you to the walk in, slamming the door behind him. he hovers over you and you can literally see the heat fuming off of him.
“what do you want, seonghwa?” you ask bluntly, trying your best not to sound intimidated.
“we need to talk,” he growls at you, stepping forward, forcing you to press up against the wall behind you.
“about what?” you quip with a begging tone. is this really the time to talk about it?
your eyes bore into each other, faces inches apart. his snarl nearly dissipates when he rips his eyes away from yours for a moment to glance at your lips. you blink up at him in temptation. you can feel the tension in the air, wondering if it was contempt or all encompassing desire. perhaps it was both.
“th–that shit you pulled earlier, don’t do it again,” seonghwa hesitantly lets out, nearly losing his composure.
“what, when you fucked up my drink order?” you ask.
“when you grilled me in the middle of service,” he defends.
“for fucking up, yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “doesn’t feel nice to be scolded for your mistakes, does it?”
he glares at you for a beat, clearly unsure how to dig himself out of this hole. a hole that he dug. as if he snapped out of a trance, he steps back slightly. he clenches his jaw, and in a swift motion, withdraws from the walk-in. you’re left alone, still pressed up against the icy wall. a rolling cloud escapes your lips, making you realize you had been holding your breath.
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it felt like sunday night didn’t come soon enough. this weekend was busier than usual, so all the running around on top of the rigidity of seonghwa was making you go mad. it’s difficult to avoid someone you hate when you have to retrieve drink orders from him all day. luckily, he just reserved to himself and you followed suit.
throwing your bag onto the bar, you slump into the bar seat at the end of the night.
“here,” hongjoong passes a shift beer to each of the servers at the bar, including you. “you guys need these after this weekend.”
you give a thank you while cracking it open, taking a big gulp. you let out a big sigh of relief.
“you’re right, hongjoong,” you say blissfully. “i did need this.”
ryujin snickers next to you, nudging your shoulder. “there will be plenty more at sunday celebration, don’t you worry.”
“speaking of,” san says, grabbing the shoulders of yunho. “congrats on your first live shift, yunho!”
“yeah, how was it?” you ask. you can’t help but smile at the beaming man.
“it went…” yunho starts, pausing for effect. “swimmingly.”
“sounds like a cause for celebration!” ryujin sing-songs, raising her beer in salute.
you all raise your glasses, short one person of course: seonghwa, who was mopping down the bar floor. after a hefty drink, wooyoung crushes his can first and tosses it in the trash.
“let’s start celebrating, sannie,” wooyoung says, throwing his arm over san’s shoulder. (seriously, what the hell is going on there?)
san and wooyoung book it out the door and ryujin follows soon after, finishing her beer and beckoning you to join.
“almost done, you go ahead!” you encourage, packing up your things hap-hazardly with one hand and chugging your beer with the other.
“shit, you guys drink fast,” yunho says, swishing his beer around to hear how much he has left. with a laugh he says, “wish i could just take this to go.”
“i won’t tell,” you whisper to him, grabbing him to join you. “walk with me?”
“okay,” yunho smiles, almost looking like he had stars in his eyes.
you two waltz out the door, leaving seonghwa at the bar cleaning alone. and with your eyes finally averted away, he can finally have no shame in watching you intently out the window. he is so fucked.
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“here’s to yunho!” mingi hosts the cheers, with everyone raising their glasses, clinking them together and collectively taking a drink.
“guys,” yunho says with his face still contorted from the liquor. “thank you so much. you’ve all been so welcoming!”
“of course, you’re part of the fam now!” san smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders.
everyone takes their respective seats and mingle amongst each other, all while taking more shots and drinking more beer. you, of course, were sat with ryujin and wooyoung talking about the latest work drama.
“have you guys noticed something different about seonghwa lately?” wooyoung asks. “like when he broke that beer the other night? i swear, the whole year i’ve worked here i’ve never seen him break a thing.”
“dude, yes,” ryujin says, leaning in. “he fucked up a couple of my drink orders today. so weird.”
“he’s definitely been in a bad mood lately,” you mumble, holding back from telling your secret.
“yeah, more than usual,” ryujin rolls her eyes. “he probably just needs to get laid.”
you choke back a bit on your drink, taken off guard by the comment. you realize the problem is not that he needs to get laid, but that he did get laid. and now he’s being tortured by seeing the poor girl at work every day. why did he have to sleep with you when you know he feels nothing but disdain for you? are you just a toy to him? you begin to feel dizzy, partly from the alcohol, but also from the thoughts spinning in your head.
“you okay?” wooyoung asks you, handing you a water. you nod and take the drink from him, but his eyes are quickly diverted to the bar. “oh shit, seonghwa is here.”
“what?” ryujin tries her best to look subtly. “do you think our shit-talking manifested him?”
“i don’t know,” you huff, trying to figure out a way to avoid him. “but i’m gonna go sit on the patio.”
“there’s a patio?” yunho chimes in, hearing the last bit. “can i join?”
you smile and nod, leading him back. this will be a good distraction.
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“so…” you start, leaning against the wooden patio covering. “how do you like it here? at the restaurant, i mean.”
“it’s definitely different,” yunho laughs. he leans on the covering next to you. “everyone is super nice, the food is good… and it’s nice to work for a local business. the management seems to really care about the employees.”
“definitely, hongjoong is great manager.” you nod to him.
“it’s actually crazy,” yunho starts. “i’ve never seen so many attractive people all working in one place before.”
“what, like ryujin? or wooyoung? or san?” you giggle, realizing he was right. you do have a LOT of hot coworkers.
“well, sure,” yunho says shyly. “but no, i meant you.”
“oh,” you say, caught off guard. you suddenly feel a lot more drunk. you look up at him momentarily, him leaning closer to you.
if someone else saw this body language from an outside perspective, they’d think that he looks like he wants to kiss you. and so what if he did? would it be the worst thing in the world to entertain this, even after your mess with seonghwa?
yunho leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, quick but sweet. when he pulls away, you’re left looking at him with an unreadable expression, but in your mind, you were reeling.
there was something… missing. and it irritated the fuck out of you. yunho did give you butterflies, but you wonder if it’s just because it feels nice to have attention on you. especially from someone that’s actually kind and seems like he actually wants to get to know you. but in your crazy toxic head, you realize what was missing. passion.
“i-i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have done that,” yunho says, touching his fingertips on his lips.
“no, no,” you say, grabbing his arm. “it’s okay.”
before yunho can get out a word, the back door shuts with seonghwa walking out, witnessing the scene. you can’t resist stepping back slightly from yunho, as if it’s not too late to be caught. he looks between you and seonghwa, adding two and two together just from the tension alone.
“i think i’m gonna head back inside,” yunho says, rubbing the back of his neck. “sorry, again.”
“yunho, wait,” you call after him, but he already shuts the door behind him.
“let him leave,” seonghwa commands, leaning against the wall.
“what are you even doing here, seonghwa?” you ask, already putting your guard up.
“the fuck are you doing with the new guy?” he says, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a match. of course he’s one of those pretentious dudes that uses a fucking match to light a cig.
“since when do you smoke?” you say, desperately trying to change the subject.
“i don’t,” he says casually, blowing a cloud into the air. “just been stressed lately.”
“i can tell,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “it’s like you forgot how to bartend.”
“it’s not just work,” he says, brushing off the insult you threw at him. “it’s also you.”
“what about me?” you basically refuse, shaking your head. “i’ve been doing exactly what you want me to do. i don’t talk to you, i don’t look at you. i pretty much avoid you at all costs. you’re off the hook, seonghwa. you don’t have to worry about me bothering you.”
“who says that’s what i wanted?” seonghwa says, finally looking directly to you.
“you didn’t have to say it,” you spit at him, forcing him silent.
the air feels heavy. seonghwa struggles to find words for what he wanted to say. he looks down again, ashing his half-smoked cigarette. the back door opens to wooyoung and san following after him, both opting to sit in the patio chairs in the corner. they continue their conversation, and seonghwa looks to you.
“we should talk somewhere more private,” he says, motioning to your coworkers. he’s already grabbing his keys from his pocket.
“why, so you can keep being an asshole to me without an audience?” you say.
“because i want to finish what we started,” he mumbles, walking out of the patio and to the back parking lot.
you try your best to resist, but curiosity overcame you as you follow.
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after a short but tense drive, you arrive at what seems to be seonghwa’s apartment. he shuts the engine off and jumps out of his car. you slowly try to register what the hell is happening, unbuckling and hopping out. seonghwa doesn’t look back you, he just continues walking, knowing you’re trailing after him. he unlocks his front door, letting both of you in. he closes the door behind you, watching you examine your surroundings.
“this is exactly how i imagined your place,” you say, almost to yourself.
“you’ve been imagining my apartment?” he smirks.
“yeah,” you scoff. “it’s just as cold and rigid as you.”
“thanks,” he mutters sarcastically.
“so now what?” you say expectantly. “you bring me back here yell at me? make me cry?”
“there’s only one scenario i want of you crying,” he says, stepping closer to where he’s leaning over you. you suddenly feel stone-cold sober.
“and what’s that?” you say, tongue in your cheek, pretending not to know exactly what’s about to happen. and pretending you don’t want it so bad.
seonghwa grabs your cheek, beckoning your face closer to his. his eyes bore into yours, before landing down to your lips. not holding back anymore, he presses his lips onto yours with purpose. your lips meld into his, placing your hands on his chest. your kiss deepens in fervor, as if the hunger completely took over both of you. soon enough, you’re moving together towards his bedroom, clothes and inhibitions shedding along the way.
you fall back onto the bed with seonghwa standing over you. he takes off his belt while looking down at you with a look that can only be described as burning desire. once he discards his pants, he slowly runs his fingers across your panty-clad core. you’re embarrassed by how fucking wet you are already, slightly closing your legs around him.
“no no, princess,” he smirks down at you, licking his lips. “keep them open for me.”
you do as your told, letting him push your underwear to the side and feeling the wetness between your folds. he gathers some of your slick and brings his fingers to his mouth, savoring it.
“fuck,” he tilts his head up as he groans, unintentionally bucking his hips against the edge of the bed. “you taste so fucking good.”
with one hand gripping your thigh, the other hand dips back to your heat to slowly insert his middle finger in you. he lets you adjust momentarily before sliding in his ring finger, curling them both. he thrusts in and out, all while watching you squirm under his touch. he just watches in awe, mouth hanging open as he fixates on your pussy enveloping his digits, coating them with your essence. he releases the hand on your thigh to palm himself at the sight. he twitches in his underwear, precum soaking through at the tip.
as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he withdraws his fingers from inside you and rips your underwear, completely tearing the fabric to have more access to you. he tugs his bottoms down to release his aching cockhead, the tip leaking in a long drip onto you. he guides his member down the length of your core to gather your juices and stimulating your clit all the while.
with an elongated hiss, he enters you slowly. you’re taking every inch of him, pulsating around him. you moan with him as he starts rolling his hips into you. you can feel his head hitting every inch of your walls, the pressure making you moan in sweet agony. your sounds ring in his ears, savoring the whimpers you let out just for him. this quickens his pace, still driving into you with cadence.
he’s literally fucking you into the mattress, splitting you open with vigor. you find it impossible to keep from tightening around him in pleasure, and he loses a bit of his rhythm. he pulls out of you completely.
“you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” he says between exasperated breaths. he holds his length above you, slapping it onto your core. he bites his lip to hold back a groan before grabbing your waist to switch positions.
he sits up on the bed and places you on top of him. he holds your waist as he guides you down onto his cock. he examines every inch of your face, reveling at the way it contorts at the feeling of him entering you. once you adjust to him again, you start moving. you ride him, throwing your head back. seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss and bite at the expanse of your neck. he moans as he begins thrusting upwards in tandem with you. he’s hitting all the right spots, and your bodies move together like a dance.
the moans you let out are uncontrollable, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. it feels like no one’s ever made you feel this way, feel this good. and maybe it’s true; maybe no one has ever awakened this primal, animalistic desire within you. it feels addictive, and you could not get enough. you pull him closer, yearning to feel every inch of his glistening body against yours, desperate for your forms to meld together in an all-encompassing embrace.
he crashes his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, a surge of passion pouring through and intensifying with every passing second. he reaches his hand down to toy with your clit, forcing you off his lips to let out a wanton moan. you core clenches around his length and a wave of stimulation transcends your body.
“cum with me, baby,” seonghwa lets out softly, continuing to thrust into you and toying with your clit.
you throw your head back in ecstasy, all while seonghwa’s eyes devour every inch of you, mesmerized by the sounds of your moans, the sweat trickling down your neck. each movement and touch sends shivers down his spine, solidifying his obsession with you. he wishes with every fiber of his being he could immortalize this sight in his mind forever. he is absolutely captivated by you.
“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before resting his hand just below the side of your face.
his jaw goes slack when your core clenches erratically around him, drinking up this view as you completely come undone on his cock. he continues to piston into you until he follows immediately after, no longer holding back his moans of euphoria.
as your hips both begin to slow to a stop, seonghwa pulls you off of him, eyes still full of unrelenting lust.
“get on top of me,” he says, pulling you to straddle his face. “i want to taste myself in you.”
his hands grip your thighs as he guides your folds to his eager mouth. as soon as your core meets his tongue, a moan escapes his lips. his seed is still spilling out of you, and he licks up every drop with determination. your hips are still above him, hesitant to put your full weight on him.
“i need you sit on my face,” he says between licks. “i want you to fucking suffocate me.”
his hands on your thighs urge you down, letting you become fully seated on his mouth. he devours you, exploring every inch of you. you rock your hips against his tongue, each motion intensifying your pleasure. his hands encourage you to move faster, to take what you want from him. he separates from your core briefly to groan.
“baby, fuck my tongue,” he commands, attaching back onto you, granting you full access to his mouth.
you let his tongue slide into you and thrust onto it, all while his nose bumps at your clit. you feel the tension building in your stomach once again. the overstimulation sends you spiraling, hips continuing to grind onto his hungry tongue. you see his eyebrows knitting together in bliss, the vibrations of his insistent moans sending a pang throughout your body.
“seonghwa, p-please,” you beg, as if you weren’t the one on top of him, fucking his mouth. his dominance overtook you in every way, no matter what position. “i’m going to cum.”
he nods as if he’s saying, ‘yes, please cum on my face, please let me feel you,’ but is stifled by the grinding of your hips. he flattens his tongue so you can thrust your folds on him, and he’s smirking with lust behind his eyes. you let out a cry in pure bliss, your core contracting and spilling your essence onto his lips. he swallows every drop before latching his mouth back onto your clit, prolonging your orgasm. your movements slow down, and you let out a satisfied moan.
you fall off of him, positioning to rest your head on his chest. the waves of pleasure start to subside, and the only thing that can be heard in the silent air was the synchronization of your heartbeats. then reality hits you.
“seonghwa,” you say quietly. “what are we doing? why are we doing this?”
“i don’t know,” he sighs, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through your hair. he struggles to find the right words. “i just… i don’t think i want this to stop.”
you lift your head up, almost thinking it’s a joke. but when you look into his eyes, you can tell he’s being genuine.
“but… but you hate me,” you say.
“i could never hate you,” he urges. he places his hand on your cheek, stroking softly.
you want so badly to believe him, to trust the softness in his eyes. but a voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is temporary, this isn’t real for him, and urges you to not fall for this trap. your mind plays over the past few weeks of turmoil between you. you recall every harsh word, every cold stare, and wonder if this moment of tenderness can truly outweigh all of that pain. is it worth risking your heart again?
“then i need you to explain yourself,” you say, pushing his hand away. “tell me why you’ve been like this with me.”
he sits up, taking a deep breath. “i’ve been so fucking stupid,” he shakes his head. “i think all these years of working at a restaurant kind of roughed me up. i think i built these walls to try and prove myself in the industry, to prove something to myself. and it made me become someone i don’t even like.”
he meets your gaze, seeing your anticipation for him to continue.
“and then i met you, and i still had these walls. i walked all over you and made you feel like shit. and what’s so fucked up about it is that despite that, i actually started to like you,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “i was scared. i’m still scared.”
you never expected him to be this vulnerable with you, let alone confess his feelings for you. you sit up and kiss him softly, intimately.
in that moment, the barriers between you begin to crumble. it’s not going to be easy, but for the first time, you find yourself on the same page.
“i don’t know what comes next,” you say softly. “but we can be scared together.”
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a/n: guys i am so proud of this one! i hope i successfully portrayed the intensity between them. shit got my heart racing personally. again, im new to writing fics so plz leave feedback and reblog to support me! thank u sooooo much ♡
edit: sadly there will be no part 3, but i will be releasing something new within the next week or so, so stay tuned 🫶🏻
✰taglist✰ @trinityhasjams @mxnsxngie @sooberryworld @mingtinysworld @spenceatiny18
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meleeyz · 2 months ago
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┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗙𝗜𝗧𝗦 ꒱
ekko 𝒙 fem!reader
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୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled
୨୧ It's the first oneshot I've written here and in English, enjoy and let me know your opinion ;)
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Ekko’s workshop was always buzzing with a quiet, electric energy, a space where ideas sparked as easily as bolts from his tools. Today, though, the hum of his work seemed charged with something more, something new.
You were perched comfortably on his worktable, your gaze fixed on him as he knelt beside his half-dismantled hoverboard, hands busy replacing a cracked circuit. You’d shown up in a new outfit, something more “work-appropriate,” as Zeri had put it. She’d insisted on it, practically yanking you to her favorite underground tailor that morning, saying you needed “a proper look if you’re gonna hang around the Firelights.”
The end result, strangely enough, looked like it could’ve been handpicked from Ekko’s own wardrobe—a mix of utility and edge, sturdy but stylish enough to blend in with Zaun’s streets. Though it was obvious that Zeri had chosen the style, the whole look had an uncanny resemblance to Ekko’s own favorite fit, down to the last detail. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d done it on purpose.
Maybe he wasn’t as subtle about his hints as he thought he’d been.
You noticed him watching you, his brown eyes lingering a moment longer than he probably meant them to. You fought back a small smile and threw a comment his way, something light and sarcastic about the “coincidental” matching outfits, pretending not to see the faint flush that rose to his cheeks in response.
“Zeri did say it was supposed to be work-appropriate,” you said, crossing your arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “But I didn’t think she meant this close to the Firelights’ dress code. You got a hand in that, Ekko?”
He looked up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, though he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he returned to his work, tugging at a stubborn bolt and muttering something unintelligible about “stupid circuitry.” But you noticed the twitch in his lips, the way he was holding back. As he worked, you found your gaze drifting over his features. The concentrated furrow of his brow, the way his hands moved with practiced ease, the quiet intensity that settled over him whenever he was focused on a task—it was captivating in a way you hadn’t quite expected.
Ekko could feel your eyes on him, too, and the idea that you were watching him—really watching him—sent an electric thrill down his spine. He didn’t want to say anything and risk breaking the moment, but it made his hands feel almost clumsy as he tried to focus on the hoverboard.
“Enjoying the view?” he teased, raising an eyebrow without looking up. His voice was casual, but he was anything but.
Caught off guard, you huffed and rolled your eyes, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible.
“Not really. I was just wondering how long it would take you to fix a single circuit board.”
Ekko laughed under his breath, stealing a quick glance up at you.
“Good one,” he said, tightening the last bolt with a playful shake of his head. “You might look the part, but I think you still got a ways to go before you understand how delicate this stuff actually is.”
“Oh, I understand delicate,” you replied, leaning forward with a slight smirk. “I just thought you were faster than this, Little Man.”
At that, he finally set down his tools, crossing his arms as he straightened up and fixed you with a challenging gaze. “Careful with that nickname,” he warned, though his tone was light. “Only certain people get away with that.”
You raised an eyebrow, shrugging as if it were no big deal, but you couldn’t hide the amusement in your eyes.
“Good thing I’m not just ‘certain people,’ huh?”
A brief silence settled over the room, and the air thick.. Ekko glanced down at your matching outfits, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t resist saying it now.
“Guess we look pretty good together, don’t we?” he mused, looking back at you with a glint in his eye. He tilted his head, inspecting the outfit with mock seriousness. “I mean, not that I had anything to do with it or anything…”
You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing there was something he wasn’t telling you.
“Uh-huh. Right. Because I just happened to show up looking like your twin by pure chance.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault if you’ve got good taste,” he shot back, raising his hands in defense. But there was a glimmer in his eyes that gave him away, the faintest hint of guilt wrapped in a smile. He shifted under your gaze, hands back at the hoverboard, suddenly finding the bolts extremely interesting.
“Ekko,” you said, leaning forward with a grin. “Just admit it—you told Zeri, didn’t you?”
He bit his lip, trying to hide the grin that threatened to break free.
“What? No. Me? Tell her to match you with me? Why would I… I mean, I don’t need to do that, obviously. I just… maybe gave her a few hints, that’s all.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away.
You tilted your head, your expression amused but curious.
“A few hints?”
“Alright, maybe more than a few,” he admitted, his voice dropping. “I may have… strongly suggested that she’d do me a solid. Told her you needed something sturdy, something that says ‘ready for action.’”
“And something that conveniently matches your look?”
“Hey,” he said, flashing a grin, “it’s all part of team spirit, right?”
You laughed, and the sound filled the small workshop, bringing a warmth that had little to do with the stuffy, cramped room. Ekko looked at you, his face softening as he watched the way the corners of your mouth lifted, the easy way you teased him. In that moment, he felt a surge of pride mixed with something he couldn’t quite put into words.
The tension between you shifted, settling into something quieter, more comfortable. He hesitated, caught between the impulse to say more and the safety of holding back. But he found himself taking a small step closer, his eyes serious now as they met yours.
“You know,” he said softly, the bravado slipping from his voice, “I just… thought you’d look cool. Like you belonged here. Not that you need clothes for that or anything,” he added quickly, fumbling over his words, “but… it helps.”
For a brief moment, you forgot how to speak, his words catching you off guard in a way that left you momentarily stunned. When you finally found your voice, it was softer, more genuine.
“Well, I guess I should thank you, then,” you said, a gentle smile spreading across your face. “I could get used to this look. Guess I owe Zeri, too.”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but the laughter quickly faded into a thoughtful silence. He looked down, suddenly unsure of himself, as if he hadn’t just been wearing a confident smile a moment before.
“You know, I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly. “I don’t say it much, but… it’s cool having someone like you around.”
The words hung in the air, raw and honest, laced with all the things he hadn’t yet dared to put into words. You felt your heart skip a beat, your usual sarcasm and wit replaced by something softer, something fragile.
Before you could respond, he tapped the board, testing its balance with a nudge.
“Alright, give me a hand with this?” he asked, a little too quickly, holding it out towards you. “The stabilizer’s acting up again.”
Grateful for the distraction, you hopped down from the table, moving to stand beside him. You watched as he leaned over the board, pointing out the issue, but you could hardly focus on the gadget. Instead, your gaze wandered, noticing the fine details in his hands, the deftness of his movements, the way his focus was so intense.
Together, you both adjusted the stabilizer, a comfortable silence settling over the workshop, punctuated only by the occasional click and buzz of Ekko’s tools. When he was satisfied, he gave the board a final spin, and it hummed to life, hovering slightly above the ground with a soft glow. He grinned, proud of your combined handiwork.
“Not bad,” he said, his voice warm with pride. He turned to you, his eyes bright. “Almost feels like I’ve got a new partner-in-crime. Think you could handle it?”
You rolled your eyes with a smirk.
“You think I can’t handle a little trouble?”
“Fair point,” he replied, a laugh bubbling out as he nudged your shoulder. He stepped back, reaching out his hand toward you with a grin. “Hop on. You can test it out, see if my handiwork holds up.”
You took his hand and he put his arm around you, playfully saying that you would fall or something, whatever, you didn't really pay attention to him but instead all your concentration was on his hand holding your waist, and with a push you both left the workshop, the tree outside was as beautiful as ever, the cool breeze hitting your face and you could swear there was a strange feeling in your stomach thanks to the height.
Yeah, it was probably the height…
After a few loops, he brought the board to a slow stop, both of you leaning on each other for balance. He stepped off first, offering his hand to help you down.
“Guess it works pretty well,” he said, giving you a satisfied nod. “Must be the matching outfits. Makes everything run smoother.”
“Must be,” you replied, smiling as you gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it. “Maybe we should make this a regular thing.”
His eyes held yours for a moment longer, his expression softening as he considered your words. “Yeah, maybe we should,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
As you climbed the stairs in the tree to re-enter the workshop, you two began to chat calmly again, pretending that everything was exactly the same as before. But now you couldn’t help but feel a quiet sense of happiness. Ekko’s touch, his words, and the way he’d gone out of his way to match outfits with you—it all felt like a secret shared only between the two of you.
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gtgbabie0 · 7 months ago
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-Benjicot Blackwood x smallfolk!reader
{The Realm seems to have spiralled into disarray, Benjicot makes promises of protecting you}
Short and sweet because I can’t help myself, Enjoy my lovelies 💕
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The days seem much longer since the crowning of Aegon Targaryen, the Realm quickly swearing their fealty to whatever side could offer up the best deal or come across as the most threatening. Men were quick to take up swords, training all through the day and deep into the night.
Benjicot was not exempt from this, immediately following suit. Although it came naturally to him, a sword in his hand gave him a boost of confidence like you’ve never seen before and suddenly he was ready to take off into battle with an eagerness that would put anyone on edge.
It took up most of his time, unfortunately. The growing space between the pair of you was noticeable, you wouldn’t hold it against him, you couldn’t. Especially not when he visits you at the end of every day with a boyish grin and messy hair.
“Missed you today.” He breaks the silence, standing awkwardly at the doorway, watching you potter around the small kitchen.
Several moments pass and you still don’t even give him a glance, focused rather stubbornly on the task of scrubbing down the already pristine countertops. He makes a popping noise with his lips repeatedly, trying to gauge a reaction or at the very least your gaze.
With a groan he steps over to the dress you have been working tirelessly on, you have a talent for weaving threads and fabrics with your very hands, crafting the most beautiful dresses for the pretty ladies of the Vale for a rather pretty sum.
“Do not touch that with your filthy hands unless you wish to spend coin on new lace.” You tell him, turning around to meet his grin.
You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop your lips from curling into a traitorous smile, the sight of him all dirtied and bloodied looked so out of place in the backdrop of pastel colours and the softest fabrics.
He puts his hands up in mock surrender, allowing you to tug him over to the wash basin with a chuckle that passes through his chapped lips.
His expression softens as he watches the way your gentle hands begin to wash the mud and blood from his own, so much more delicate than his, not sullied by violence and battle, no, they only knew needlework and he vows to keep it that way.
“I said I missed you today.” He repeats his earlier statement, tilting his head slightly towards yours to meet your eyes.
“I suppose I should be grateful then, Lord Blackwood.” The words leave a bad taste in your mouth, despite the fact that there was no malice behind them, but still, that doesn't stop the regret that immediately swells up inside your chest at the deflated look he gives you.
“I sense I’ve done something wrong, have I?…” he treads carefully, his eyes searching your expression as your hands carefully work to free them of muck.
You shake your head, drying off his hands as you stare down at them with a troubled look. “No… forgive me I have been rather on edge as of late.”
He hums in understanding at your words, glancing around the room, trying to think about the right thing to say, before finally looking back down at you. In truth, he has never been good at this, words, but for you, he’ll try.
“You got me and I’m better than anyone in battle, you’ve seen it yourself, I’ll protect you.” He states with so much confidence in his tone you can’t help but chuckle, it was true he became a wildly different person on the battlefield, a man possessed by the thrill.
You avert your eyes to the sword that stands, leaning up against the wall with your brows pinched together in worry. Benjicot’s hands immediately cup either side of your face with care, the feeling of his calloused hands keeps your mind from drifting off to every worst possible scenario.
“Hey, look at me.” He whispers, tipping your head up ever so gently. “If anything happens you’ll have refuge at Raventree.” He promises, his tone carrying a seriousness that he does not always have.
“You sound so sure they’ll just take me in…” You whisper, unsure if you’d be welcomed at all.
“I will demand it, and so will my Aunt, she loves you especially after you made her that riding jacket.” His words warm your heart, a soft smile gracing your lips at the memory of Alysanne, the gratefulness of her tone and the excitement in her eyes.
A warm smile spreads across your lips, his rough hands still cradling your face as if you were the most precious thing across Westeros, the pads of his thumbs caressing the space under your eye.
“Now, no more worrying, hmm?” He announces, pressing a kiss against your forehead with a smirk as you agree with a small whispered ‘Alright’
The pair of you soon find comfort in the warmth of your bed, listening to him ramble on vividly about his day, his hands moving all over the place to get his point across and for the time being everything seems to be peaceful.
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kooyabooya · 7 months ago
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BABYLON
m reader x sana // 26k words
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Almighty hand to God, there had been much, much worse situations to get yourself stuck in. 
If there’s any sort of consolation to fall back on, you’d wish that you’d say something earlier, call this off with a simple push and shove on the way out the door, close it and wrap up nicely with no worry filling your mind. 
It’s not that easy, though. 
Never was to begin with. 
Not when you have the lights off in your study, the sound of laughs downstairs surrounding the dining table, really fucked how you’ve hidden away from everyone else - also wanting to at the same time because all of them would have the same thread of thoughts running through their head if they saw you at the front of your desk with another body pressed towards you. 
“Don’t get so worked up,” Sana tells you, lips fast across your neck while her singular hand is well deep into the grip of your shaft. You could feel her breath slip through the opening when her lips are back on yours, the taste of her is already addicting the more she leans, a hand in her hair trying to give more, fighting, but losing drastically. 
What you give, Sana takes. That’s usually how it works in most cases like these with her. You can’t stop, you won’t stop. It’s already difficult to break away once she’s lowering your inhibitions without the use of alcohol. 
“Maybe I should deal with you right now instead of later,” you tell her, hiding the smallest hint of worry when your hands find Sana’s hips. She’s proud of the sigh she lets out against your mouth when pulling away before you’re quick to drag her back in. “Let the whole world below know of the things you’re doing to me right now?” 
You won’t stop giving in, because Sana gets you. Just like that. 
“Have them screaming in shock when you bend me over the desk fucking me?” Sana asks, a tempting offer above a whisper at that. It also doesn’t help that she’s giggling at the thought of you doing exactly what she proposes. “Sounds hot,” she says, huskily, “because I know you would.” 
This was never supposed to happen. Hell, this was the last thing you expected to happen. All of the possibilities in repercussions start flowing through your head again because this was definitely not the first time you’ve surrendered yourself to Sana’s advances, nor that you didn't want to. 
She’s like quick sand, pulling you from underneath into the catacombs of temptations that would have Satan himself impressed if he could see you right now. Or how this woman at her fingertips is breaking down every last bit of rational support running through your brain just so that she can draw out the rasps of desperation to get her screaming, shuddering. 
You could lower the flag and raise up the drawbridges - it’s so easy to do. She’s playing all of her cards right, knowing that your hand would never stack up against hers. 
Forget calling a bluff in this house of cards, since the only play you have in your book is to fold. 
You see, the events that happened before the wildfire were relatively tame. 
Nothing but wins coming left and right in the avenue of your life. Speaking of avenues, there’s this newly acquired house (all thanks to your surprisingly good credit score) alongside this block that has a new occupant–
“Babe, the place is amazing!” Dahyun exclaims out, arms around your neck once you and her finally make it past the front porch, taking in the high ceilings and matte layout of the new space. All of this wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the countless days and hours of work to achieve this milestone. You’ll be proud of yourself for settling down while others may be working for bigger goals and ambitions. 
(A minor correction: two new occupants.)
The house itself is in a nice area. Not too far from the city, in a pretty well modest community, alongside the hills. Detailing is pretty modern: four bedrooms, three bathrooms, two stories, kitchen was renovated before signing off the lease, ideas for rooms themselves are already drafting from Dahyun’s pinterest board. Knowing that your wife has some good taste, it wasn’t worth deliberating over. You’ve gone through the gauntlet of places in different areas: beachside, close by to your cousins, one was also about a two hour trip away from the city, there’s also this high rise apartment that would’ve been a perfect choice though it never happens. 
There’s some scattered boxes here and there still, but most of the things are already in place from the whole moving process. Aside from all the heavy lifting and not wanting to stain the ring on your finger from the dust and oil when the truck broke down on one of four trips, the beauty of being able to be grounded by the tune of Dahyun’s laughs and witty banter when you’re trying to catalog and take inventory of the things that will be kept and what’s going up for the garage sale you plan to have within the next week or so. 
“I’m just glad that we finally got it over with.” You put her down, eyes overseeing the view past the spacious living room, as well as the boardwalk-esque deck housing the pool right outside. “Absolute hell trying to get the final documents signed, but finally.” 
“I’m so proud of you honey,” Dahyun tells you, hand to your cheek with the most reassuring look that she’s known for giving in your times of crisis. “Had I known that we’d actually get the house after almost signing off on the last place with Jeongyeon–” 
“Our luck was pretty much cut out for us,” you amend, though she’s not thinking of the ‘what could’ve been’ - since the here and now was all that mattered to Dahyun. You wanted this, and she did too. The agreement was not hard to fight over; sights were set, end of discussion. 
“We should give our credit to Jeongyeon for referring us to this place,” Dahyun starts again, trailing off with hands behind her back, chin up when she walks in deeper. Her gaze turns back to you, leaning on the pillar when you’re staring up at the intricate set of lights hanging over the couch. “Didn’t you say this listing was about to be taken down at the last minute?” 
“Almost,” you answer, hugging Dahyun again with your nose in her hair, “Gladly got the call as soon as I found out.” 
Dahyun twists around, arms circling her waist, pulling her closer under your touch. She’s happy, giddy when the tip of your nose is nuzzling hers for a quick second. Cliché, corny even, but you’re in love and she’s in love - something that the new home will be more filled with for years to come. 
“Shouldn’t we empty out the rest of the remaining boxes?” you ask her, hands curling inward on the small of her back, leaning in slowly for the softness of her fingertips across your face, the plushness of her lips on yours. 
This was a brand new start, a turn of the page in the livelihood of things, one act onto the next. 
Here’s the thing about new beginnings, most of these aspects are supposed to be taken in a positive light.
Most of the time. 
The subject of change itself is frightening, can make someone anxious at times because of the uncertainty of how things would play from here on out. Naturally, it’s normal for human beings to feel like this - this daunting notion in being uncomfortable because of this collective notion of ‘being stuck in the past’ or ‘to relive the glory days’. Nostalgia is believed to be one of the great unsaid drugs that everyone takes unknowingly without even realizing it. 
Luckily, you’re not facing things alone around these parts of life now. 
Kim ‘the introverted but somewhat still a social butterfly’ Dahyun has this effect on others that makes her extremely likable. Hell, if it weren’t for that characteristic, the ring on her finger wouldn’t have been there in the first place. She just has this quintessential quirk of just being able to click with others like it's nothing, almost as if she’s known someone she’s just met for more than five years. 
It’s an art in itself to admire, a playlist of clips in your mind that you’ll keep replaying over and over whenever the instance occurs. 
You’re willing to be a people person while she does it effortlessly. 
Not even a week after getting settled in, Dahyun was already getting acquainted with the nearby neighbors opposite and adjacent to your place while you’re busy getting the groceries in (since one or two trips are always the priority for the efficiency of less work.) 
If you’re looking at your new house from the street and inwards, the home on your left is owned by Jihyo. She’s lovely, adventurous, mostly in and out of the house on a daily basis. You lean an ear into the conversation while Dahyun’s getting her small garden going that Jihyo was also a pilates coach, the hint taken with the amount of lululemon products she wears and has in her closet in the brief exchanges of hello’s and head nods. In the next house over to the right, there was Chaeyoung’s place. Dahyun tells you over dinner a few nights ago that Chaeyoung is this underground indie artist that’s hardly home because of her tour scheduling and the fact that she’s in London for her Europe leg on the calendar, but was home for a quick break since her brother just came back from the mandatory military service. 
“You know, when I first looked into this cul de sac, I didn’t expect to live next to a considerable amount of celebrities.” you say, tending to the raw set of patties spread across the grill while the backyard of your house was transformed to this small, homey, kickback-style of a housewarming party with nearly everyone invited along the street. “Too early to say I’ve hit the jackpot?” 
“Please,” Jihyo starts, the cup of bourbon in her hand swirling while the smoke is up in the air, “I think you think too highly of this community a lot.” 
“Everyone has something special going on around here, which is nice.” 
“A silent observer,” she murmurs at you, “Dahyun likes that about you, the ability to read people. You could honestly pass that as your hidden talent.” 
“I may not be a people person like her, but if the conversation persists–” 
“He has no problem slotting himself into it like it’s nothing.” Dahyun says over your shoulder, arm snaking your middle while she’s pressing a kiss into the blend of your shirt while you’re flipping burgers on the clock. “The best at it too.” 
Even through the shades of your glasses, you lean over with Dahyun scooching to your left. A white bucket hat is all you see through the lens that’s shielding the top of her head with the monochrome scheme she has with her dress and shirt. Simplicity at its finest with the way she swipes your drink for a quick clink with Jihyo’s before downing it after. 
There’s this mix of food and drinks being dished out, there’s a lot of simple activities spread out across the yard. Some people are in the pool with White Claws on the cupholders of the floaties, another group is playing spikeball that one of them brought over for more variety with the hoop on the outer rim of the boardwalk, the set table for beer pong, and essentially some others that were scribbled off the shopping list. 
You’re weaving in and out of different groups throughout the houseparty - the role of being the host of the party really shows with the amount of times you’ve checked in with everyone in the span of ten to fifteen minutes. It’s all in good graces really, to set a solid first impression while the ambience really sets everyone into a mood. Cooling down once the sunset hits, and all of a sudden the influx of drinks being passed around might be mistaken as a frat party. 
Aside from the inquiries of passing more drinks, you’ve noticed the stigma that’s seeping through the guest’s faces when you’re indulging in conversations, a hierarchy of sorts. And when they see you get cozy in the seat, that’s when the questions occur. 
Mina, the person living in the house on the opposite side of your street asks: so what’s your daytime occupation, if you don’t mind me asking?
Quick on the draw, you answer: Currently working in data science from the comforts of my home. Oh, and I also dabble with a little bit of history to a minor stance. 
“The world doesn’t thank enough people who aren’t willing to move for a charitable cause.” Her tone is nonchalant, almost flat. That simple black dress she’s wearing, the outline of her figure that may look unreal at first glance, the way her leg is folded on top that signifies that she’s all class, a tilt of her head that has you leaning back ever so slightly. “Are you this some sort of- house husband then? Given the way you’ve been tending to us around the party so far?”
“God no,” you answer, hand up in defense while you’re casually leaning for the unattended cup of Lager that was brought in by Jihyo’s fling? Booty call? Friend with some benefit? It wouldn’t matter since he’s athletic enough to have his own chain of gyms as a fine investment. “Call me a clean freak, but I get by with my duties around the new place.”
“What does Dahyun do again?” Lisa, another neighbor just a few houses down chimes in, “You said that she’s–”
“A corporate lawyer,” you say, catching Dahyun in your peripheral view who’s laughing with another guest that seemed to just make their way into the late afternoon. Hand to the back of your head while racking it, “She’s pretty damn good at her job too.” 
You get a collective nod from the two women when you keep your mouth partly open with a tongue nicking the inside of your bottom lip. Logistically, Dahyun was a key counterpart in her firm, the way that she’s her bosses’ right hand when it comes to finishing off deals whether the fact it came down to mergers or closing cases. She’s always one to speak her mind, not willing to play nice or by the book. 
Generally, a lawyer’s job tends to be stressful at times, given the unhealthy hours depending on what lands on her desk first thing when she walks in, early or not. If Dahyun needs some downtime, you’d give it to her - something about it that she coined you to be her sleeping pill. 
(Kinda funny, though.) 
However, there was this whole ordeal of some big litigation incident with one of the firm’s associated parties. Something about the high ranking chairman and close member convicted of fraud and if the press found out about it, the whole door gets blown up and it turns into an absolute shit show. Dahyun’s boss had her spearhead the whole thing and as a big token of appreciation, she managed to get time off. 
The apartment prior was starting to get a little bit cramped, so she brought up the idea of moving while eating out for lunch one afternoon and that was that. 
Explains how the house acquisition was more simple to deal with, considering how you’re good with numbers and finances, but that’s all to know. 
Tech savvy, is what Mina tells you, taking out of it with a margarita in her hand while you raise your cup in acknowledgement, breaking away from the set of couches around the makeshift bonfire pit. Ever the sentry, unintentional but it’s what a good party host does to get to know new faces, right? 
Like the ping pong ball on the table, you’re bouncing around the backyard again, avoiding the splash zone of the pool when you slide across the makeshift bar of different varieties of drinks off to the right of the sliding door, cups riddled both half full and empty that’ll have to be dealt with eventually later, or in the next morning - whichever one happens first. A frame of mind falls into the same habit, picking up the clutter for a bit before you could treat yourself to another choice of booze or wine you’ll fish out of the kitchen once done. 
Nothing would prepare you for the extra set of small hands swooping in the table to keep tight on the slack. 
She seems familiar, not long term familiar, but something that you’ve caught yourself having a double take at for a quick second only to forget a couple seconds later. A quick spike of the heartbeat, that’s also something that you’re very torn on in that moment - running back a necessary subroutine in your memory banks to check that you’re - well, you.
“I take you’re the guy Dahyun was praising about.” she says, her voice cheery with that simple but sly smile of hers that’s stabbing daggers into your heart. “Find it hard to believe that you’re her husband, actually.”
The solo cups slide in smoothly, placing it back in the respective stack while this girl is tending to the crushed water bottles and cans in that small plastic bag she’s putting them in. A small contribution at that, but a helpful gesture that you’ll indirectly accept once the plastic is tied and in the bin. 
“And what are you trying to say?” you start, arm bearing your hand when you stand square across from her. “Was it everything that you hoped to expect?” 
Unbuttoned baseball jersey, those high top sneakers and short shorts giving a slight peek into her figure from the down up. Her tank top also raised enough to show her toned midsection that looks tapered and detailed. Casual, you think, perfect for the summer vibe that you could honestly put a lei over her neck and all of a sudden this party is a fucking luau. 
“Hon!” a voice calls out to you in the distance, approaching you and the girl from the other side of the yard. When that person gets closer, it turns out to be Dahyun who immediately grins at the sight of you looking all curious. “Oh! Good, I’ve managed to get you two both together.” 
“But you didn’t do anything.” 
“Who said that I was the one to start it?” 
“Coming from the person who’s all for taking the credit for herself.” 
“Always the pleaser,” the girl laughs out loud, Dahyun closing in with her fingers intertwining with hers. There’s history to them - not even a second thought to track back, it’s all there right in front of you to see. It also clicks in your head that this girl was also the same one that Dahyun was gleefully excited to see back in your sit-in with Mina and Lisa. 
The exchange of happy glances abruptly stops when Dahyun catches you with an arched brow, looking for answers, and to this she just smiles downward because how could she forget with the formalities, it’s silly. “Babe, I’d like you to meet Minatozaki Sana, one of my closest friends since college.” 
“Sana,” you say, and when the syllables reverberate past the oral cavity and into the air, it rolls off the tongue nicely. “I see, friend of Dahyun’s?” 
“Indeed I am,” she says, extending her hand as a peaceful offering - not even realizing the turmoil that’s running through your head while hiding it effortlessly. The way her hand fits in yours, her whole body looks delicate like she’s handmade with God’s well crafted time; she’s also a few inches taller than Dahyun (by two for the accurate calculation), you’ve got Dahyun to mold into the threads of the mattress and now imagine–
“I was wondering who was getting Dahyun a bit excited at the gate when you came in,” you say as you’re pouring yourself another cup of brandy this time, since the other drinks were relatively tame for your high alcohol tolerance. “Now with a face to the name, I gotta say, you’re pretty likable already.” 
Bottom line, it’s really curious to act this way. Clearly, you’re smiling at the fact that she’s standing there with her arms crossed, you’ve placed your cup down filling the next one, because another wouldn’t hurt. 
So how did you and Dahyun meet, you say - palm flat on the foldable table that sends the drinks sloshing slightly at the change in stable weight. I would assume that the story in itself is an interesting one, I hope? 
Sana and Dahyun have this exchanging look between the two of them, the infatuation of how their minds are interlinked. These two have been through everything, despite the differences in majors and fields of work - the bond that they have is admirable. “What do you know about me that Dahyun has told you?” 
“Whatever that wasn't ordinary already,” you reply. “What also boggles my mind is that–”
“If she told you about the time I almost had to blow my professor to give me a passing grade, she’s dead wrong. It never happened.” That star-stricken grin that has you pouting slightly and rolling your eyes because her answer has you completely way off of left field. 
Not that, you add on but-hmm it can only make you wonder of the kinds of things that happened in that period of youth, before Dahyun came along into your life albeit a simple nudge of the shoulder while passing between working schedules. A part of the script of life that’s rewritten in itself and jesus - it’ll sit in the comfy nook of your brain while it sends your heart and gut flipping in all directions. 
Let that be a new doc or spreadsheet for you to graph out in your mind, because there’s a lot to compute and learn into getting this right. 
So it actually turns out that Sana’s the next door neighbor living on the left of your house. She just wasn’t there during the whole moving process before the housewarming party because like Mina, Sana was out and about seeing the world - something about putting some miles in her life trying to cross off one or two things off the bucket list, maybe more. 
There’s only some noticeable details to keep track of in a few: 
* Said somewhere along the lines of having a fear of heights? Lost a bet to her cousin and went skydiving to get over it. 
* Well-spoken, considering that she was in Dahyun’s undergrad cohort before she had a change of heart in her choice of major, leading towards the pipeline of communication studies or working with kids, cute. 
* She’s an only child in the family and very accepting of the fact of having a big house to herself (since Juile, her housemate who was also paying for half of the place but hardly around to live inside and still depositing the rent when it was time). Lonely, one might say out of sympathy but that would be undermining her success till now. 
* Oh, and that story of her blowing her professor to get a passing grade? Hard to believe how it’s true and very similar to a common storyline you’ve surfed incognito on the internet before.
“Look,” and she says this with a whole hearted laugh when you’re behind her and Dahyun walking out of the side gate. “It was only a one time thing, I swear and plus,” you’re having flash of doubt when Dahyun looks over, and you’re terrible at hiding it because it’s in your eyes, a shake of the head in disbelief when Sana’s shoulders slouch, “we were sophomores that hated that fuckass professor so much, I was willing to take the fall.” 
“And you did, but thank god there’s no proof of documentation that recounts such events like those, right? Right?” 
A prompting cough deviates the ongoing conversation, “I assume that everything was handled then?” To this, Sana nods - right hand swearing under oath, smiling earnestly with those eyes of hers, left hand supporting her elbow. She’s distracting with how her tank top peeks out with her chest open slightly. In the court of law, she could never get away with testifying let alone convince the grand jury. “I mean, what would happen if there was something that’s sizable enough to damage your image of being this good-willed human being?” 
“Then everyone would watch the world burn if that were the true, but I’m cautious of my digital footprint, always making sure that my track record is clean.” 
(She’s in the same pedigree as Mina, Lisa, and pretty much everyone that’s occupying the boulevard: poised, casual, stable, know themselves all too well to get what they want - because they always do, it’ll have your head turning from the moment they walk in to when they leave the table. Dahyun gave you the brief rundown about her circle of friends; they’re good people, not wanting to let the finer things of life get to them, stay true to their words, grounded even.)
It’s how the amber light of your garage door shines above that gives Sana this radiating shade of copper in her hair. You’d offer to walk her back to her place if it wasn’t just a few steps away. Better yet, Dahyun would’ve permitted you to do so if you were to ask right now, but it’s fine. The grace period of life works in mysterious ways, funny how this sense of nostalgia comes back when you see two lovely girls play the game of catch-up, hugging after not seeing each other for a couple years. 
Tuning back in to the image: 
“I’m baffled you’ve managed to land a house like this, especially with your money and the amount of back breaking work you do on a daily basis. Twenty trials? You’re a fucking workaholic.” 
The pair of them laugh together, it’s really heartwarming to listen. 
Still, 
“-plus the extended vacation time you just got-” Sana sounds like a kid on the last days of school trying to come up with a multitude of things to waste time while Dahyun just listens to her rambling; eyes curving up with stupid smiles and the head tilts as if the secrets being exchanged are not meant to be spoken of to others, they look good together, wow. Have we checked the calendar if it’s Pride month still?
When they turn toward you, the actions seem unreal to register. Dahyun’s monolids contrast Sana’s double eyelids, the way Sana’s eyes especially look almond like. Her smile is a little smaller compared to Dahyun’s and when they’re just freely cuddling each other without any spite of jealousy beneath it.
They’re leaving you dumbfounded, consider yourself to be humbled. 
Sana breaks the hug first before she lets out an overreaching hand for you to shake. You’ll admit on another given day to Dahyun that Sana’s pretty, the small pull hinting at her smile all the more reason to give a positive outlook for first impressions that will also have you wondering how in the hell isn’t she in a relationship yet. Overkill when she does the line with her eyes while keeping the same smile when mirroring Dahyun’s expression, too. 
“Same number as always?” Dahyun asks, clinging onto her hand like she’s going away for a sizable amount of time. “I got nothing for the next couple of weeks.” 
“I’ll just walk over and ring the doorbell, don’t bother.” Sana’s answer is optimistic, and you’re hoping she’ll stick to her word because you’re willing to break the lines, the yellow tape at the scene, and ignore the lines of ink blacked out for confidentiality assurance. 
You and Dahyun say good night, and she’s just happily bouncing along the sidewalk into her own front yard. 
“She likes you, by the way.” Dahyun tells you, slotting herself right underneath your right arm while you’re squinting to see absolutely nothing in the darkness, not even tuned in to what your wife was telling you. A few sweeps of looks across the street pass and you’re rubbing warmth on her shoulder, only to nudge your head slightly to finally hear. 
“Sana’s…interesting.” you say, blinking, looking down at Dahyun’s gaze before your eyes shoot away scouring for something else to eye at in the short meantime before a light slap to the stomach sends you snorting out of the quick annoyance. “Hey, based on how she acted, I would’ve thought she’d be anything but ordinary.” 
“She’s done some stupid shit, that’s for sure.” Dahyun signs to her own admission, seeing it first hand of the stories that were told an hour ago. “Though, she’s gotten better once I convinced her to see things in a different perspective.” 
“Could’ve passed as a good lawyer if you asked me.” 
“Please tell me that’s satirical.” 
“Wasn’t planning to say, but I guess it just happened.” 
A close of the gate and up the steps into the front door, easy to say that getting yourself settled in for once in your life doesn’t seem to be that bad of an idea. The plans themselves are just getting started, drawing them up on the itinerary sometime later this week will get a number of things going. 
Apparently nobody saw this coming, and let this be an error in the calculations because evidently, this whole ‘summer in the hamptons’ type thing was about to be undermined entirely. 
Turns out on the following day, Dahyun gets this business call at around three in the morning, and the phone just keeps vibrating on the nightstand. She eventually lets you off slumbering with the lamp on while she goes to the couch to hear what her boss was egging on about for what you think would be a short call, but it wasn’t. 
What you eventually find out hours later is that Dahyun was called in to help play defense in this big lawsuit that was deemed to be ‘the second coming of the Watergate Scandal’. God, those news anchors and journalists need to do a better job of nailing the creative writing aspect because it was just fucking awful when they’re reporting it at eight in the morning after. Apparently you’re also reading an article online on your desktop about Dahyun’s firm coming under fire for a sizable client that’s been doing murky deals behind their backs that would not only jeopardize one branch of the corporate relationship, but all the potential deals that have yet to be signed. It’s a mess. Though, work shouldn’t even be the thought since Dahyun’s pulling out all of these boxes that were related to this case out all over the dining room table that she has to bring back to her office and whatever was on the menu for the boat party next week that you’re having with close family and friends was about to be canceled. 
And this has happened on many occasions, but if it involved Dahyun or anything related to the law firm she holds dearly to her heart (of course, you’re first, obviously) the support in her endeavor would always be important to protect. 
“I just hoped that they were able to handle this quietly, and without my help.” You’re dipping your head down to spit the last taste of mint from your mouth. Dahyun leans forward on the sink with her ankles crossed, wearing one of your shirts blinking dutifully, quite zoned out while her hand is over your hamstring, tapping it gingerly. 
“Well if that were the case, then they would’ve called you in anyway.” You say, raising an eyebrow with the tinge of mouthwash cycling in and out when you spit again. “So much for having your rewarded vacation time.” 
Dahyun leans back against the mirror when she’s putting her hair up in this messy bun. She looks a little more relaxed compared to the ragged breaths down your ear when your cock was buried inside her, clinging to your neck while that vicious upstroke of your hips sends her absolutely blown out. The look she gives with her pleading eyes when you take the toothbrush out of her mouth, washing it after she leans over to spit out the toothpaste before handing a washcloth for you to wipe yourself with. “You think I shouldn’t go.” 
“Wasn’t really bringing that up for you to consider, but judging how this looks from the outside in, I’d say it’s pretty bad.” 
“You’re really not helping my train of thought here,” she sighs, hands bearing her waist, the crinkles of your shirt on her subtly showing that petite frame, the image itself recorded in your memory banks loads of times - each one just like the first, if not better. 
Sliding over a few inches to where she sits there idly, your hands placed on the outer rim where her knees bend over the marble counter. She doesn’t change her posture when you’re looking her in the eyes trying to get a read on what her next move might be. Still elegant as ever, Dahyun will always put this appearance on even when it's the simple domestic life she’s living. 
Energy levels are still high, and the initial action was to get back to watching this sappy rom-com kdrama that bored Dahyun to the point where she slipped a hand inside your sweatpants just to ‘spice things up a bit’. Once the prompted question of are you still watching appears on the screen after minutes of inactivity, no point in answering it while she’s happily fucking herself over you while you’re sprawled across the satin sheets, gripping into her perfect waist with the sound of her hips with yours bouncing off the new walls. 
When’s the flight? You ask her, hand sliding up her thigh slowly. I could put in a word for your associate to get that done, save the trouble. Inevitably, the jaws of justice will soon swallow her up again when she manages to break free from the shackles of court orders and depositions. 
“First thing at nine,” she answers, fingers tugging at the midpoint of where the seam of your shirt and the waistband of your sweats meet. “Got some things to pack up soon, but I think most of the papers and boxes won’t be a lot for me to carry on the quick plane trip back.” 
“Crazy that they get paid for a short flight from upstate.” 
“In addition to the fact that they’re also on my dad’s payroll.” 
“A plus I might admit.” you muse. 
Dahyun shifts her gaze from right to left, spreading her legs wider when you scoot her hips up to meet yours. The hum of satisfaction that she gives when your eyes flick up to see that rosy shade of pink plastered across her face, eyes waiting, honing on something that she subjects that will be given to her. Precision was one of her key strengths, but when that’s used against her, it’s a completely different story. 
When she tugs a little bit more on your undershirt to lift, she usually does so with this sense of security - like a kind of clinginess that you won’t have any sort of complaint against. You’ve understood it to a degree. Whether you’re dropping by the office of the firm or being dragged into the kitchen after sitting on your chair for hours and hours doing analytics and business calls, moments like these with Dahyun are always something to behold. Considerably, you don’t mind giving into her needs for attention; in fact, you’re willing to do that without even thinking twice. 
“So,” Dahyun prompts with this sultry voice of hers, clueless and innocently - as if she has no idea what she’s doing to you. With her (your) shirt rumpled all over her body, those pretty eyelashes, her creamy thighs, the way that her fingers are grazing the elastic of both your sweats and boxers, you begin to assess the conditions when you’ve nestled yourself in between her knees, some water staining the gray cotton when you finally lean closer. “How are you gonna handle yourself while I’m gone?” 
“I think you’ll lay the severance package,” you say, not giving any faltering sense when she’s ghosting her set of fingertips on the right hand across your chest. “If there’s damages to it, I don’t mind paying up.” 
“Non-compete or NDA,” Dahyun huffs, lifting the outer seam of the shirt past her hips, showing the opening underneath where her pussy is glistening with her slick, awaiting your end of the bargain, this non-verbal agreement where she knows that you’ll always deliver the requests and offers. “Besides, you still owe me.” 
Laughing, you do recall the statement. It’s funny - there’s a trade off throughout the day earlier where you’re awoken to her warm mouth, deepthroating your cock that leaves you with these sharp inhales. The way her jaw slacks of how she sucks, the mix of spit lathering all over your length while she’s bobbing away between your thighs at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. Even after Dahyun takes care of the morning wood situation, you pay her back by eating her pussy freely on the kitchen counter as the logical option to keep yourselves occupied while waiting for the oatmeal. There’s no competition between the two of you of who makes the other cum the fastest, the hardest, let alone how many rounds can you do in a day; it really just boils down to this one simple look, a push-pull that sends the neurons firing away automatically - fucking each other ‘just because’ to put it simply. 
This girl on the bathroom sink, slouching, head against the mirror still while your hands finally snake under her shirt, feeling the unbelievable midsection under the breasts when she lowers her eyes, leaning up for the touch of your lips. 
Every kiss, stolen or prolonged, each one always has the flaps in your heart opening. She’s yours. 
Tender at first, but then the heat gets raised up when her arm hooks onto your waist, fighting the slipping tongue that’s breaking away for a slight second in her mouth. Her hands are also grasping for any kind of reach for her to clutch on, no luck for it when she finally takes her fingers into your hair, not wanting to pull away. 
Dahyun does this little whine after the quick inhale of air when you slip a finger or two inside her bare cunt, testing the waters as she bites her lip in anticipation. “Don’t do that now,” she spits. That obscene noise coming out of her instantly after when she bucks her hips forward again, accidentally curling a finger in her warm cunt that makes her look away from your intense gaze. “Darling, please–” 
“Use your words honey,” you whisper against her lips when you’re tugging on her bottom lip, causing her to sit up straight on the counter, slotting her arms around your neck with hands circling her waist. “Can’t really hear what you’re saying if you’re mopping my face up.” 
She’s losing her sense of focus when your fingers continue to bottom out the whole length of them, filling her up and pushing deeper. It also doesn’t help when your thumb presses flat on her clit that sends her mewling at the bend. Her face is against your neck, the steady pace of those staggered breaths against your skin keeps your current operation on the clock, unraveling this line when you’re slipping in and out of her. 
“Baby, baby, baby, please–” her heel locks the back of your thigh in place, hitting a kneecap on the cabinet. She’s reduced to these simple words and responses with the heavy breathing. Her hips are nearly coming off the glassy surface of the sink. The shirt’s lifted up beneath her perky mounds (and that fucking underboob is a national treasure in itself), the seal of your mouth is all over her throat: pulling, kissing, gnawing. You kinda feel bad for the concealer pack she’s gonna be using later for a brief afterthought. 
Although this little contest of edging Dahyun out to cum wasn’t on the cards for tonight. You’re managing this smile when she pulls the hair tie out of her hair, letting it flow freely. This look of post-sex yet natural style that she does makes you stare in awe when you pull her hips more out at the edge, the way her elbows are propped up nicely and her legs are spread even wider. Her hand pulls the shirt higher, showing her breasts now, the preferred choice of marks that were left there as a reminder from earlier. You slip out of the sweatpants and boxers, fixed on the brushing of her bare cunt just millimeters away from dipping yourself - a teasing tip, then the first couple inches at the half - and that shudder from her hips catches you off guard. 
“Yes,” Dahyun moans out that matches your sigh in perfect timing. A moment’s hesitation, replaced with the second necessary action to sink yourself into her more, parting her walls nicely, slowly, until you feel all of her wrapped around you. 
She gasps, mewling, spilling out this chain of hitched breaths, “god. honey, your cock–” 
It all slides out for a second. Unreal. Then you slam back into her again. Pacing was always the methodical approach, a line into the protocol when Dahyun is writhing in the drag of your cock fucking deep into her cunt, she’s biting her lip at the fact that she’s shimming her legs more out, wanting to choke herself down the length. My god, you’d love to keep the look she has on her face, lips parted at how badly she just wants you to split her in two, seeing the last hint of her pupils rolling back into her brain when you skate the palms of your hands across her stomach, clutching onto her perky breast when the tempo starts to increase. 
When your hands finally nestle into the curve of her hips, they stay there. They’re already at a good place when your cock finally feels all of her, so wet, so tight. A slight throb along the length when you drag yourself out, that small pocket of air escaping before the vice seals shut again. She’s unbelievably perfect, one label off the list from your head when you’re fixed on the sight of your length disappearing inside her, head tilting forward with every stroke back in. 
“You’re so - mmh,” Dahyun hitches her breath, shuddering, you could feel the rise and fall of her chest when your hand clutches her thigh. A choked out sob leaves her lips, and you’re impressed at the composure of nailing her cunt, the same spot being hit deep, even deeper, to that one area where she’s lost herself before. “Fucking big for me, this cock - feels so good-” 
“Dahyun...” you hiss, shifting your hands down to the soft cushion of her ass, sinking down once again, then another, and then another, sliding her out across the counter before you’re driving her back in, this never-ending piston into the fiery pit of heat, stretching her out, twisting that nimble body of hers into your own creation, coaxing every exhale you catch from her abdomen. “Your pussy is so–” 
What you meant to say was, “your pussy is so fucking tight, god damnit-” You know what, the thought can barely even be formed in your head when you meet Dahyun’s eyes, slowly fluttering shut with her teeth slowly disappearing behind her lip. That, and the feeling of her walls imploding your cock to the remnants of awareness you had left. 
It’s also pretty funny to think how Dahyun was fucking herself freely over you just an hour ago, only for her to be used like this and she knows you simply can’t help yourself. 
“Love, I can’t - shit,” that utterance nearly takes everything ouight of you to say; everything about it is euphoric, the way you have her legs up, bottoming her out. You look at her again, and she has her hand over her mouth, trying to fight that natural clench when your cock fills the heat inside her. “You’re so good for me, spreading yourself open like this. Fuck.” 
This is a case that you’ll take to your grave, knowing all of your wife’s body so well to the point that every kiss, thrust, moan, hell even the appearance when she’s like this for you will be more than enough to last as much as possible. Dahyun knows the switch off too - aside from the fact that she’s cock drunk every single fucking time you fuck her brains out - and she loves this. You see it in her pupils, the desperation to tear all the edges apart, the signal for you to finally wreck her in the way that she wants you to. 
“Don’t stop,” she begs, chest heaving heavily when her legs wrap around your waist, propping herself up for you to take her waist into your chest, letting out these songs of pleas that’s encouraging you to get to that edge first. You could feel her body going limp, the support is almost reflexive while your hips continue to pummel her out. 
“You-” you try to say. Fuck. It goes everything against the directive you’ve put yourself in, the noises of your skin clashing with hers, creating this filthy yet harmonious sound that only gets more and more harder. Dahyun’s breathless moans keep you in check when your motions start to get irregular, inconsistent, keeping yourself busy with your mouth all over her chest. “God, Dahyun–” 
“Do it baby,” she whispers into the cuff of your ear, “Keep fucking my pussy. Pound me like this.” Her hand does this simple action, and it’s lethal. All it took was a simple palm to your cheek, it’s filled with little meaning but carries so much intimacy. Moans and grunts continue to slip out while you search for her eyes, feeling that pull in your waist, grip tightening and loosening as you’re mindlessly thrusting. “You’re getting close for me, aren’t you?” 
“Honey,” and at this point you’ve got it all spun out of control, “You feel so fucking good.” 
“I know, baby.” Dahyun ignores your words of affirmation, smirking. “You know what to do.” 
God. She can kill you, bring you back to life, and kill you all over again. Begging was already done before, you’ve fucked her way past her orgasm on mulitiple occasions - using her as your cumdump; doesn’t matter what time of the day or what you’re doing. The endgame was always this: having you completely fucked out in that velvety smooth pussy of hers - all wet and warm enough for you to live in. 
With your teeth gritting and a final huff of air blowing past your nostrils, you cum inside her, filling her sloppy cunt all the way up. 
Dahyun is sinister, it’s not up for a fair debate. When she coos and hums into your ear canal, you’re battling every urge to just wrap your fingers all over the column of her throat, use the remaining bits of pulse in your member to get her screeching. Alas, you hold yourself back while the ropes of cum are spurting around her walls, her mouth also gaping open when the fourth and fifth pulse out your cock weakly. 
There’s this pause soon after, a collection of breath between the two of you that constructs a reconsideration of your choices. Dahyun has this telepathic connection with your mind that makes the connection instantaneous - you don’t say anything because there’s this one look in her eyes, hanging in the atmosphere bathed with afterglow - and she knows. 
When you do slide out of her swollen cunt, there’s a considerable amount of your cum dripping out of her, slapping the tip along the outside of her folds just to tease her before retreating away entirely. The image of her legs spread out and her back laid across the sink will be saved into your memory for you to look on sometime in the future, or maybe even next week. 
“So,” you mutter, shaking off the small jitters of blood loss to the head when you’re massaging Dahyun’s thighs, “Have I paid off my case in due time?” 
Dahyun chuckles, a single finger raised up from the wreck beneath to get a taste, licking her lips following the fingertip. She wiggles up on her hands to sit on the counter again, hair flipped to one side while she lets the shirt fall down to cover her body, “Hate to say it, but you always do.” 
“That’s good to know.” 
“I’m also saying that you could use my help.” 
“Ha Ha,” 
“What? I’m serious.”
“I’m serious. Well so am I.” Dahyun sarcastically says, slapping your hip that makes your cock jump suddenly. You can see the dashes appear on her face when she lets out this simple smile, the eyes disappearing reflecting the same expression on her lips. She could saunter around the courtroom making a solid case for the defense, but no one would know the fact she’s all liquid putty when you have your hands on her like this. “I appreciate the thoughtful offer, but I think someone’s gotta guard the house while I handle work.” 
“I’m gonna hate you by the end of this.” 
“How bout you flip me over and rail my ass on the sink again?” 
You’re starting to curse that concrete jungle a little more by the end of it. 
Okay, to cut to the chase, there might’ve been a slight miscalculation that you had panned out in your head. 
You switch on the TV two days later and Dahyun’s already made her way back to ground zero in the city to handle this case, where it completely spirals into an absolute shitshow. All gloves are off when the story gets released out to the public, scapegoating one of Dahyun’s board members having themselves tangled in an affair with one of the staff. Sure, it could've been an analytical approach to brush off the heat that’s only growing by the second - a shitty attempt you might also think; either way, this trial was crucial for your wife’s firm to win because in the scenario that they lose, all credibility and positive imagery surrounding them will plummet and that equals no more lawyer work for Dahyun. 
She was optimistic at first while on the phone with you, talking about how this case should’ve been a cakewalk to handle, predicting the possible time period of when she should come back home to finally relax with all that hard work paid off temporarily. You’re smiling at the fact that she sounds composed, no hint of stress lying in her tone, riding on that high when you have her bucking into your hips just an hour before her private plane trip to the firm. 
It’s only a matter of time before all of this blows over, you think. Not your fault also when the house feels suddenly empty in the wake of this unexpected catastrophe. 
You’re hearing this definition of a fortnight. As in, Dahyun’s projected time when she could get out of the office and have someone else handle the case on her behalf. A little unusual for her to indulge in the understanding of the term itself, not while you’re making yourself dinner with the chops of onions on the cutting board and the phone being on speaker off to the right side. 
“Two weeks?” you’re asking, the dice of onion cubes being skated off into the pot left to boil while stirring. “That’s a pretty big ask for you to take up with your boss.” 
“Why do you think I’m hitting you with the English lesson?”
“Babe, you’re talking about a term that was used in the freaking 1800s.” you laugh, leaning back on the counter, glass of water in your hand as one of the stupid actions that most people tend to do when talking to their crush. “Would’ve been better if you just said two weeks instead of a fortnight. What do you think I am? Some kid that’s withering their life away over some video game?” 
“There you go again.” She laughs out loud. You can envision the picture of her rolling her eyes at you when you spew out complete nonsense that won’t comprehend in her brain since her lifestyle doesn’t line up with it. 
“Sorry,” you mutter, smirking with a dimple poking out against the touchscreen. “Seriously, when do you think you’re gonna make it back?” 
“Honestly, I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon.” she admits, hearing the click of your tongue over the speaker when you’re accepting the fact that her job might potentially be on the line if she were to leave early. “I know we said two weeks, but in this case-” You can hear her stop short when she clears the lump in her throat before continuing, “This trial might drag on for who knows how long? It might be a few days, two weeks, a month? Everything is laid out for us to fail.” 
“And you won’t.” you tell her, reminding the positives going forward. “Maybe it could look bad, but I’m certain that you’ll do a good enough job with what you have to work with. I’m sure of that.” 
That sigh of relief you hear through the phone. Yeah, you’re right. I get it. A little reassurance goes a long way for someone in her field dealing with that kind of work - not that you would relate or somewhat imagine what it would be like to be in Dahyun’s shoes, but aside from all bad things, you know that she’s headstrong to the point where none of this should even faze her in the first place. 
“You know you can’t go back to the old place, dummy.” you laugh, opening the lid of the pot that unleashes a quick cloud of steam rising above the rim. “Where are you planning on staying in the meantime while working?” 
“Minju has a guest room at her place.” Dahyun answers, “I’d figured that I should tell you this, but I think she and her associate are having a little thing together.” 
“And this is news to me, how?” 
“Because I’ve seen him and her get a lot closer than usual.” she adds, “You do remember that we have this policy that’s strict on relationships around the office–” 
“But you and I, along with some other considerable names and high-ranking figures, are the exception. I know. We’ve been over this story a bunch of times already.” 
Dahyun straightens herself up on the couch over the phone, folding her legs inward on the seat, sighing, smiling. “Are you eating dinner this late?” 
“Well, if you consider ten-thirty to be late to have myself a meal, then yeah, you can call that to be a late dinner.” 
“Rude,” she muses. “Can’t your wife have a little bit of curiosity about your day while being alone? Missing me?” 
“I guess, but there’s nothing to report on my end.” 
She hums, and you can picture the pout she’s putting on whenever you give her an open ended answer that could totally be expanded on if you just put the effort into it. Dahyun knows you're lazy to an extent when it’s off work hours, and she doesn’t blame you for that. “Have you been using your hand to keep yourself occupied while I’m gone, baby?” 
“Sweetie,” you chuckle, tongue against the inside part of your bottom lip when you automatically realize what she’s trying to do - what she’s trying to make you do. “No, we’re not doing this.” 
“Aw, why not?” 
“Because I can only do so much to keep myself sane while you’re not here.” 
“Fine,” Dahyun sighs out in defeat, and you turn off the stove to let the signature dish of your mother’s pork stew cool down before you get to eating. “One last thing,” she starts, “Sana wants a favor from you while I’m not there.” 
“Hmm?” you sound off, getting a small taste test of the minimal viscosity of the soup you just cooked. “What does she need help with?” 
“Just some heavy lifting around her place,” Dahyun answers, yawning. “I told her that she could come by the house to get you and help with whatever she needs.” 
“You’re setting me up, aren’t you.” 
A soft giggle could be heard in the background on Dahyun’s end. It probably shouldn’t mean anything, but a suspicion starts formulating in the back of your head. This could mean one of two things: you’re either fucked for the potential summer, or fucked for the potential summer. 
“Help Sana out tomorrow,” Dahyun instructs. “I don’t think anything bad will happen if you’re stuck with her.” 
Turns out that Dahyun would be right when you do stand at the steps of Sana’s front door, hand at the hip while the few seconds of silence runs the possible uncertainties through your head. 
A swing of the door inward: “Howdy stranger, have my pizza?” 
You get a good look at her. She’s wearing these thinly rimmed glasses, the middle wire sitting nicely on the bridge of her nose. Her long sleeve hugs her shoulders nicely, tugging at the fabric while her other arm is raised on the door. The shorts are also doing a number on you internally, highlighting the ridiculously long legs that has miles and miles of skin, aside from the fact that they appear to be too short (and also pink, but fuck, man.) Cozy, homebody type of vibe, is what you end off with. 
“Hey.” And this comes off as a half-choke in the fumble of words, “Dahyun said that you needed some help?” 
Sana cocks her head off to the side, brows attracted inwardly, lost for a second before she fully realizes the present dilemma that she’d had happen to forget. “Oh, I did ask for a few things.” 
“Fingers crossed your to-do list isn’t full?” 
She does this subtle nod of her head motioning you to come inside, and you hesitate for a second, peering over past her head of brown hair to see the state of the place and here’s how it looks: everything has a very simplistic aesthetic, blank tones of the furnishings and floorboards complimenting each other the more you and her make your ways around the place. Some boxes are still present here and there, half-open, half-closed, like the items in them haven’t found their rightful place amongst the shelves and cupboards and closets between the rooms. Sana mentions also that her and Julie also have similar tastes, but given the fact that they both haven’t been in the place that often because of their work, it’s pretty disappointing to take away. 
“How long have you had this house?” you ask, picking up a picture frame off one of the tables in the living room that has Sana and this other gorgeous girl leaning her head in with hers, you can’t put a name to her, but curiosity will come later when the time is right. 
“Just like you, not that long actually,” Sana answers, rounding past the corner towards the kitchen when you pick up on the lasting trail of her footsteps to meet her at point B. “Julie and I only managed to settle in about a few weeks ago before she went overseas for some big movie project that she’s a part of. Other than that, it’s just been me here all by myself.” 
“That doesn’t sound fun.” 
“I find it calming to have a big house with multiple rooms without the sense of company.” 
Your eyes trail off in the distance of this closed space. It looks barren, but rich, with the sense of presence from all of the different decorations and paintings all over the walls and tables. You might mistake this as a museum, an unplanned exhibit with your neighbor as the centerpiece of this gallery. 
“So,” you start to say, arms cross when you’re watching Sana on the opposite side of the kitchen island, sipping on a glass of strawberry lemonade, looking back at you with wide eyes, those pouty lips on the rim–
She points to the set of disregarded items off to your left side behind, the same set of boxes you noticed when walking in, “I need to get these things out of there and placed around the house,” and she starts to round the area of the kitchen to get closer to you, “and my garage door needs some fixing since it won’t open for some reason” 
“You really think I’m qualified to help you with the garage?” you raise an eyebrow in suspicion. 
“Dahyun asked you to help me, so please, make us happy.” 
The first meeting with Sana happens quite quickly. It should’ve ended there - a simple favor fulfilled and get on with continuing the daily routines around the house and neighborhood. 
Except it doesn’t happen that way. Not when Sana catches your attention when you’re taking out the trash, watering Dahyun’s little growing garden, when you’re getting your morning and evening runs up the hill and round the block, she always seems to get you caught in her lines of sight. 
You’re not against it however, taking a liking to have a quick chat with Sana about different things that were worth bringing up - it’s the simple camradire that’s developed rapidly after the housewarming party. She’s interested to see you with the garage open, finding a new thing to tinker and fix with the car (although modding a tesla would make some vehicle enthusiasts want to rip out their hair and gouge their fucking eyeballs,) she just makes the minute trip from her house over to yours just to talk. 
Dahyun’s calls circulate every now and then, getting the quick rundown of what’s been happening while she’s knee-deep in trial work down at the firm. You simply smile while tapping on the camera switch icon on facetime to have her look at the group of Sana, Jihyo and her summer flirt, Mina, along with a few others just have a communal game night of Mario Kart down at Sana’s place when everything is settled in. Before that, you were explaining the fascination of this ancient city that you’ve been reading into between business calls and graph inputs during work that may sound like you’re a boring professor talking about history. 
None of that would matter because Sana’s house is like this ancient city that’s riddled with riches and items of materialistic value that would probably convince someone else that their money is being wasted over meaningless items rather than propper investments. You get a few nods of agreement, maybe some fingersnaps because what you’re saying could be plausible with the amount of knowledge you’ve consumed to tell without boring everybody. 
“I could care less if that were the case,” Sana says, leaning closer on the couch while running a hand through her hair, the flowy locks combined with that cropped Prada shirt could have you reeling in an alternate universe, but it doesn’t. 
“Sana,” you call out, Jihyo’s also giggling at the fact before you even say it also, “your walk in closet is literally the devotion of this ‘city of gold’ I’m talking about.” 
“Hey!” and she’s taking this with a light offense, “I only say that it’s true because where else am I supposed to put the dresses?” 
“I suppose they could go somewhere else that doesn’t take up space in the racks?” 
“You’re the one who helped me put them up anyway!” 
“Don’t get all defensive now because I’m talking about it.” 
She cracks this smile while Mina sounds off with a ‘boo’ noise, “You can take your little history tangent up your ass then.” 
To that, you raise an open bottle of White Owl to her face, downing a bit of the drink while she rolls her eyes, narrowing while she purses her lips. She’s lining her fingers across the bottom of her chin, intuitively, studying the movements of your hands and eyes, getting a read of what makes you tick. 
Even after the activities of game night are all wrapped up, you stay behind in Sana’s house, picking up the assortments of empty glasses and bottles, the charcuterie board that’s scavenged through, except the stack of cheese that was apparently stale and too cold to even dig their teeth in. 
“Care for some cereal?” Sana prompts after the final sweep. 
“You’re asking me to have a night breakfast?” 
“You’re making it sound like it’s something to be frowned upon.” 
“Then why the paradoxical proposal?” 
She doesn’t bother answering that with a simple hum while you’re chuckling lowly. There’s already two bowls on the counter, and not long after, she’s holding out two boxes: Frosted Flakes and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. 
“I like the choices.” you tell her, placing yourself on one of the high chairs while Sana slides one of the boxes over with the jug of milk trailing just behind it. You snap a picture of yours and Sana’s bowls to send over to Dahyun and in which she responds in three seconds - you fell for the cereal bait tactic. 
What? I got courted with Frosted Flakes and you know this, they’re great. 
She did the same thing to me back in college, but that’s her ‘ol reliable’. 
Sana swipes your phone from your hand that you try to get back, but she skips a few feet away and starts to text in your place. “What are you texting Dahyun about?” 
“Why does it matter to you?” 
“That’s my phone you’re using.” 
Sana parts her mouth open, humming once, “I’m too lazy to grab mine from the living room.” 
“You’re texting my wife.” you deadpan. 
“She was mine first before you came along.” 
You roll your eyes. Ouch. But you sigh once the defeat settles itself back in over you. All that you’re just left to do is get these soggy, milky grains down before you eventually pack it up for the night. 
“Thanks again for staying back to help,” Sana tells you on the front step of her yard, “worth the treat of cereal as a reward.” 
“Nice to have some company, especially when there’s video games that make me feel like a careless child again.” 
“We’re all a little starved for a little fun, glad I contributed to that reach of youth.” 
And this comes out of nowhere, really, you miss Dahyun around the house and it’s felt like ages since you’ve last seen her. 
Sana has her knuckles against her cheek, the fingers are well refined, she has that glow on her face and that small hint of a dimple that breaks out underneath and well - that same pout you saw last time breaks into this perfect grin of hers that’s filled with uncut happiness, the way her eyes arch into that same eye smile Dahyun has really makes you think twice about your situation. 
It’s embarrassing, but you miss Dahyun while there’s this small crush of Sana growing inside you. Going against your vow might be one thing, but your heart can’t help itself to only tell you over your mind - well shit. Congrats. 
Though, she’s reeling you back in after seeing Hailey’s comet above, calling your name that makes you unsure if you even know your own name. 
“Will you be busy for the rest of the week?” She prompts. 
“You can just come past the gate and ring the doorbell, I’ll always answer.” 
Sana doesn’t say anything more than that, only giving you the usual ‘good night’ message before she sends you off on your way, just a few feet to the side and behind another door. 
Some weeks pass. It’s late, and hot. The combination of this nightly hot climate doesn’t serve anyone well. 
You hear a knock at the door that has you scratching your head over the fact on who would be at your front doorstep around this time. All of that gets thrown out the window when you look up past the column of wood to see Sana standing there, bundled up in gray sweats and an oversized sweater that’s draping her frame, two sizes too big, her shoulder noticeable to see. She has nothing else on or with her besides the phone in her hand. 
“It’s the middle of the night,” you announce, squinting at the light towering over you and her in the front patio of the house, letting out a sigh while Sana just wiggles her body side to side, acting all innocent knowing that she knows what she’s doing. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping already?” 
Sana finds your reactions to be funny. For every question, you give her a simple or calculated answer. A greeting in the morning or afternoon would be short and sweet ending off with ‘let me know if you ever need anything’ before heading back inside with the daily mail or some vacuum or bundle of rags to clean from the garage. Every blurt or sexual comment would send you coughing or spitting out some of your water when Sana’s dropping by to see what you were doing. Most girls other than Dahyun in her position would be automatically disinterested, not your fault for being naturally dry and introverted.  
“Julie crashed at Natty’s place, so I managed to drive myself back home.” Sana replies with a pull of her lips, breaking a sly grin when you return the same nod, prompting her to come inside because it wouldn’t be like you to keep a beautiful girl from around the neighborhood just standing outside your doorstep. 
The hums that come out of Sana’s mouth are refreshing, in addition to the little swing of her head back and forth when she moves past the first lounge area of your house to between the dining table and kitchen where she stops short for a second, looking off to the left, formulating a thought. You had the lights dimmed around the place, but you catch the silhouette of her side profile while a hand is behind her back, like one of those poses that she did for a magazine not too long ago that she shared when you finished up moving the last bits of her boxes. 
“Why come to my place?” you ask, flicking a light switch that brightens the area right outside leading up to the backyard. “Are you that bored around your house that you just walk over to mine?” 
“Not denying that I’m bored,” Sana amends, turning towards you again, “just wanted to give you some company.” 
“Sana, it’s late.” 
“Remind me again,” she pouts, the lift of her eyebrows makes you slightly cringe, “How long has Dahyun been busy with her work and that trial of hers?” 
“Last I heard from her was that she’s almost done closing off the settlements.” 
“Good, and you haven’t been losing your mind over the fact that your wife’s not with you.”
“Can I live normally while Dahyun gets to play the main breadwinner in the relationship?” 
Sana coos after that. She keeps this longing gaze at you while you’re returning the same fix on her. The end point of her nose, the lines of her cheek, that over peeking collarbone when she sweeps her hair from the front to the back with a little flip; you tell her that the downtime you were mainly focused on was trying to get back to sleeping, but the damn heat was the main excuse and to that she laughs, scrunching her face when she can see right through the poorly constructed lie. 
It’s distracting, the small rumbling of this breaking desire - makes you feel uncertain in how you should approach the current dwindling situation.  
Falling off the curve, however, Sana asks you:  “Do you mind if I can take a swim in your pool?” 
This should be a page in the history books, ripped away and shrouded in the shadows, never to be disclosed to anyone else that isn’t yourself. 
It’s also completely harmless when you’re mindlessly handing Sana one of your spare towels sitting in the bathroom, smiling sincerely when she accepts the simple item of hospitality with the add on of, if you also need some extra clothes to wear because you dipped your feet in the pool with the overhanging flared sweatpants of yours getting stained, I can lend you a pair while it dries up - pick it up tomorrow or have it dropped off- 
She floats her way down the steps, towel over her shoulder, “I’d take an extra pair of pants to use after I finish, thank you.” 
You nod, letting herself like at home as if her own home wasn’t only less than five seconds away next to yours. The glass sliding door opens up to the balcony when you finally hear the light crash of water being made from the floor below. 
There’s something calming about the light blue glow being illuminated from the pool, looking up at the different stars and constellations with today’s moon being somewhat of a mix between a half moon slowly transitioning into a crescent. Dahyun was also with you in this same position after the first night of moving in, pointing out the basic lines of the Big Dipper and the Alpha Centauri, you showing her Orion’s belt before she made a counterargument that it wasn’t a freaking belt, but it just goes to show that you’re just counting the days down until Dahyun gets back from brining the trial win home. 
Looking down, you just see Sana the singular hint of honey brown sitting on the edge of the pool before slowly dipping in, getting the ends of her hair wet before tying it up in a high bun and happily floating in place, sighing while the refreshing yet, cool temperature of water settle around her body. 
The room of your study looks tempting to set up base camp, not the worst option to consider also as a form to keep yourself occupied while your bubbly neighbor was right outside your backyard swimming in the night. 
(God’s really picking and choosing your battles in any way that he pleases, huh?)
You stay the course, grabbing a quick bottle of Heiniken from the fridge when you’re seeing the sight of Sana’s shoulders and arms breaking the flow of water, her head just above the turquoise surface, the light shining beneath her face to get a good glimpse of her rosy cheeks, those lips tugged at the ends of them in a soft smile, the line of her neck also doing you numbers than the beverage in your hand before you’ve even got a propper sip. 
Sana looks towards the back of the house, you raise the bottle up to let her know that you’re still here, noticing the pile of clothes on one of the lounge chairs, neatly folded with her phone as the cherry on top. 
Here’s where you make mistake #1: The second bottle in your left hand needs a drinker, and you step your way out into the boardwalk of your pool. A missing piece of detail that you completely ignored was how Sana’s pile of clothes was lacking one vital part–
“I find it to be pretty peculiar for my wife’s friend to be skinny dipping in my pool at around this hour.” you inform Sana of the situation, to which she softly laughs at the observation while you’re kneeling at the edge, placing the two bottles off to the side that you’ll get back to later. 
Sana floats her way to the edge of the pool right next to you, arms hanging on the deep end while looking up, “Didn’t think I needed the necessary layers, no?”
“You want to tell me about layers when you’re wearing nothing underneath.” 
“Where’s the fun in having swimsuits and trunks?” she teases, “it’s too much of a hassle for me to go through the exhausting process of changing in your spare bathroom that’s miles away from the pool.”
“There was literally a bathroom for you next to the kitchen that you passed by to get here.“
“Why don’t you join me? The pool’s too big to have one person inside.” 
No. No. Don’t even think about–
“And if I refuse?” you ask quickly, naively. 
Sana leans her head back, and your eyes can’t help in anything besides fucking you up. The waves of the water cleared up, returning to its calm, idle state where you catch the highlighted sallow skin against the light, catching her hips and legs flowing freely. She lets her lower body rise up to the surface, hands still alongside the edge almost as if she’s lounging on the nearby chairs - it also hits you that she’s doing it on purpose, the fact that her bare ass is just out in the open air for you to see–
Right on cue, mistake #2: you sit down nicely, criss-cross like a little kid; and Sana scoots herself to where you’re sitting, closely, dangerously. 
“I’ve got some pull for you to rethink, take my offer into some light consideration.” she muses, and the leaning closer coming from you is seriously not helping. She’s got her hand laying below your knee, and she might as well be right under you with the ground advantage. 
That same lean is also curious; it’s also pretty familiar too - how the natural state of gravity works, Dahyun reeled you in to some similar form a long while ago - forget if or maybe if the fact she looked first or you looked first, it doesn’t matter. One key difference between that event and now was the fact that you realize that you’ve toppled over and into the swimming pool, clothes still on and everything, the brisk feeling of water washing over before you find yourself breathing, ears getting flushed out and replaced with Sana’s sweet laugh to top if all off. 
You swipe your hands through your soaked face, slowly floating to the shallow end while cringing at the present moment that just occurred. The blend on your shirt and sweats mold to your figure, like someone had slapped clay on you. Chlorine is not good for the eyes, obviously, so keep rubbing your eyes and clearing out any sinuses while telling Sana that you’re not inviting her in the next time after this night. 
Sana has this effect on people, so natural and open to the point with others that she’s hugging everyone and doing skinship as she pleases, you’re not far off from the latter, in fact–
“I thought you’d be a little more vocal with the fact I pulled you in,” she tells you, turning away slightly when you splash a hint of water as she approaches you. 
“It’s cold,” you say blankly, slicking your hair back while Sana closes the distance. Sly smile and everything. 
“That’s all you have to say?” she asks, “So dry.” 
“Aside from the fact that you’re swimming naked in my pool, I think there’s more pressing issues for me to take care of.” 
Pressing issues noted, Sana is well within arms reach, except you have another look at her charming face, her body under the water - she’s well defined in all avenues, fair skin that would even rival Dahyun’s for a quick comparison, her hands continue to do their own thing when they’re measuring the shape of your middle, fingertips grazing the soaked shirt and all. 
“I’m sorry” she breathes out, the faintest apology of them all. 
You’ve got your arms around her waist, not a care to fully realize what you’re actually doing; it’s a collapse in real time, her hand to the back of your neck: mistake #3. 
With a simple press of her lips on yours, she grips tightly, the draw of air clouding the intoxicating taste that has you humming a bit, the slide of her fingers down the line of your jaw before going off the rails with replacing the hand with a full on arm, hooking onto your neck while you move up to her upper back. 
But this inferno was unraveling. 
Her legs fill the gap between yours, hands are now on both sides of her face, thumb sliding across that prominent cheek bone that will have you sculpting out the details some other time. She’s kissing you like she wanted this to happen, the desperation, hunger even, like it would be the last thing needed over everything else, and you’d give that to her. It’s all sinking, that box of thoughts that was supposed to stay at the bottom of the ocean, the sealed lock intact and with no key to open, it’s resurfacing like the breaths of air you and Sana share with your faces just centimeters away from each other. 
“Do you think you can forgive me?” she stops to ask. 
A fucking truck of reasoning is what hits you, pulling back even more but your hands are now keeping Sana in place, just right above her ass holding at the hips. “Yes- no-” She pulls you in for another convincing kiss before another could be stolen on her cheek, the same sigh she sounded in your throat a few seconds ago comes around. “I don’t know anymore.” 
“It’s okay to not know.” Sana’s face softens when you can’t even bother to look her in the eyes now, tilting your chin up to support, lightly stroking it. “We probably shouldn’t.” 
She’s right. You’ve got to end this and you have to end it now.
“But what if we did?” You’re left breathing, in disbelief. 
“Would you want to find out?” Sana asks again, unsure but also confident. “There’s this kind of luxury I’m fascinated with discovering the unknown.” 
You’re thinking of these different stories in your head, the different kinds of graphs and tables riddled with numbers trying to come up with a logical case, predicting a scenario where you could forget about all of this, count the days until you won’t be alone again with the right person. Except Sana is dishing out all of these simple motions that have you leaning in for more, yearning. A hand is being slid across the shoulder, her face is suddenly closer with yours when you pull her towards you. “I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t afraid.” 
“Don’t feel bad,” she tells you, a comforting whisper, wisping in the breeze. “You’ll be able to catch on quickly.” 
(If there was anything that you’ve noticed while starting this new chapter: you’ve learned that the sly smile armed by Minatozaki Sana will have anybody flipping over, ruining lives and starting fires.) 
All common sense gets tossed out of the pool when you kiss her again, a choice that will have its own consequences when the time is right, the floodgates of sin opening harshly while you've just signed your one-way ticket straight to hell.
Another thing that you learn from the houses that are oozing with richness up and down the street is that money and sex have powerful selling points. 
This may be subject to change, but when you have an art piece like Sana stolen from the museum of her house (figuratively), all fingers and charges point toward theft, the necessary offenses that follow after don’t really matter as of right now. 
It’s not that difficult for you to fall in a place like this: carrying Sana up the steps but only stopping short at the doorway when she’s lapping her tongue into your mouth. She’s still wet in your hands from the pool, and you have the wall play as a part to keep her in place - the fit of your lips breaking apart before they find themselves again. 
“Mmm,” Sana hums into your mouth when you finally let her down, on the balls of her feet while your hands wrap around her waist again, knee lightly nudging the apparent line of your cock with the pads of her fingers soon after, testing it. 
“Hey,” you mumble, pulling away with an audible smack from her lips, tongue licking your mouth while she softly laughs, and again - it’s definitely on purpose when her hand palms your cock more firmly through the soaked sweatpants that has you gasping for a millisecond. “Trying to get on with it faster now, are we?” 
Her hand sets itself on your chest, eyes meeting with hers half-lidded, she knows what she’s doing, she knows that this is wrong, and she most definitely knows that this is on purpose. You tilt your  head more deeper only for her to stop you for not more than two seconds, before easily allowing you to kiss her once again. 
“Who’s leading?” Sana laughs at herself, still stark naked when your hands land at the rise of her hip, massaging the slope of her ass with the droplets of water gliding across your palms. “Wouldn’t be right of me to do all of the hard work, begging at the fact that you’re about to fuck me over in this huge house, get your fingers inside and finally have that perfect dick that Dahyun always talks about.” 
“She told you?”
“Much like every time we catch up. Always.” 
“What do you know so far?” 
Sana sighs when you kiss her again, the lines on her face softening like a flush of anxiety that suddenly went away in a matter of a second. Your hand is quick to travel to the back of her head, pull the elastic of her hair tie that lets her locks flow down while the counterpart is palming her warm, bare cunt, eliciting a slight gasp while you’re smiling into her skin. “She- she told me that you were disappointing the first time y-you guys did it.” 
“Oh?” you mutter, thumb tapping on her clit that makes her whole body stiffen while the pad of your middle finger slowly scoops under her folds, noting how much she’s gotten slick in the short span of time. “The inexperience was the main factor.” 
Another finger pushes inside, feeling the stretch while your ear receives the steady decline of Sana’s breaths, lip being pulled inward by the upper row of her teeth while her chest heaves, the heat becoming too unbearable to handle. She’s not one to let you take the easy route, putting her lips back with yours while you scoop under her luscious ass, walking past the doorway and into the bedroom - a space where Dahyun’s appearance was the common one - now introducing a newcomer that will make her case to stay. 
The landing on the bed isn’t gentle, and Sana slightly sets herself up on one elbow, while you’re tugging the sopped clothes off your body, trying to get a read into this pretty woman’s eyes of the things you want to do to her. You’ll make her cum, flip her into the mattress, have her bouncing on your cock later, get her whimpering while you drink in the sight of her pretty face just blown out, euphoric, the writing’s already on the wall before you even get a chance to draw the pen. 
“You think I’m gonna disappoint you with my performance? Maybe prove that Dahyun’s point still stands?” you ask her, making your space bigger over hers when you’re on top of her, pulling from the hips to get her to meet your thighs. Sana bites her lip in a short excitement, keeping her gaze on yours when her fingers finally wrap around your cock, giving a few experimental pumps while she spreads wider, opening the gates to an avenue that will have you packing your bags to the next house over. “Imagine if–”
“I’ll make you shut up about your worries, now fill my pussy up. With your fingers, your cock, just anything, please.” 
She’s desperate for you, and you have to admit it too, but when that first rush of every single sensation registering in your mind from the very instant you have your cock wrapped around her, sliding inside those lines with the small tug of your hips, pushing more while you could feel nails rip into your skin. 
It’s a new entry of data, the approach of how Sana’s pussy is downright perfect for you. There’s a slight throb, a misfire when the strokes are still hesitant, uncertain exchanges of breaths with the slow blinks between her eyes and yours. Uninviting, but all the more welcoming with her walls, clinging into the deeper ends of her cunt, breaking down the imaginary lines of numbers and rope circling through your head. 
“My, fuck–” and you also choke out something too when she says that, the muted cry she let out while you take a moment to readjust, sliding out before you yank Sana’s hips onto your cock again. “T-this is everything.” 
Like you need the exposition on the term everything. All of your worries wash away when you thrust more ferociously, the internal bomb in your brain ticking away the time every single speck of seconds that passes through burying your cock inside her. You’re nowhere near gentle at this point, the squeeze that has you mirroring Sana’s “hnns” over the claps of your thighs with hers, taking advantage of the arch in her back by hooking your arms underneath while one of her long legs locks around you. 
“So good,” she just groans out, relishing in the feeling of it. “Don’t stop–” 
You’re also not safe from it either, fingers resting alongside her midriff where her hands are placed on top, grasping at the new angle of your hips where it has her wheezing, the fresh spot of heat hitting the base also making your lose your sense of awareness, reduced to nothing but just a desolate being of a husband that’s throwing their marriage away. 
Her creaming cunt only keeps you focused, the pretty sounds and remarks coming out of her mouth has you giving her expressions of confusion, lust, shock, and maybe that longing look of when you see someone at first sight and it just kills you, right then and there. The sheets come undone, a pillow is used as a secondary support underneath her back, a clutch of the tit and she does this simple evil grab of your hips while you’re ruthlessly pounding into her helpless body, utilized as a vice the more you hold your end of the bargain. 
“Sana, you’re–” and again, the mind blanks out of this small blurb of praise before she just giggles for her response, fucking her so throughly that you’re running the different combinations of tempos to get her even more ruined, fucked dumb, maybe even have her begging to be used over your cock like this again soon - the eventuality of that notion will be all too apparent when the sun rises the next morning. 
She just clings to you, keeping your hips in motion while her hands cup around your face once more, pulling inward for that press of lips all over again like the beginning. You feel the wobbling lip, a thumb quick to keep her coaxing while she whimpers in absolute bliss. 
“I want you,” she huffs, and you’re falling through the cracks with every steady stroke of your cock between the opening of her legs, “to make me cum. Make a mess out of me and this pussy.” 
You’re taking shelter between her mounds, not wanting to look up in pension for the cardinal sins committed tonight, lips swiping up and down her neck that has Sana moan out in approval, the clamp of her walls tightening every return back to the bottom, her hands are over your back, tracing lines, fantasizing. She’s a fucking waterfall every thrust you take. 
“I’m- fuck–you’re gonna–gonna make me cum so fucking hard.” you feel the pulse impending, the muffled squeak that she makes in your lips, she’ll be the first to fall. That eruption happens fast, the spasm and tighter grab in her walls around you while she’s crying for now. 
Nothing could’ve prepared you for this incident, a flashpoint in time that was probably bound to happen, fucking Sana in the walls of your own bedroom this hard– “You’re something else, just like you were meant to have me like this, God.” 
“Keep fucking me like this - god that feels so good, You and your cock it’s-” she huffs, barely smiling. She can see you slipping, at the edge, the litany of moans sounding like a siren out at sea. That mess she requested, you’ll give it to her, bury your cock in the deepest depths where it shouldn’t even be humanly possible, where the molten hot walls are bursting the thickness of your head, grinding out every cell and fiber - it’s possible. “Fuck, that’s so hot when you’re all fucked out for me.” 
“Sana,” you say, and she has your hand over her tongue, licking up the thumb, and you’ll swear that it’ll do damage to you for centuries. 
“Mhm,” she responds nicely, the last bit of the hum coming out as a hitched whimper, “Cum inside me.” 
That’s how she’ll want to do things. If she wants something, she’ll get it. You do the same amount of damage to her like she did to you while she’s begging, whimpering, getting all of the lovely noises of being fucked out to oblivion out of her mouth until she’s leaking - washing you over, from the legs, to the pillows and sheets. Stretching her out perfectly, get her to slur out phrases that she would say normally on occasions not like this, only to come back around and have you fill in between the gaps. 
You slip, she slips, it won’t matter, because you or her will make the catch, that extra push deep, maybe harder. The velvety drag already has you addicted to her, the sight of her body above this hips was just the plus. 
“God, Sana. So fucking wonderful.” you snarl against the line of her cheek, one last final dip that has your cum flooding deep into her warm, velvety cunt. 
The throbs of your cock has Sana mumuring softly, saying something like - yes, yes, keep fucking your cum into me, so that I can feel it - nice and hot, god yes. 
You slide out halfway, and her hips buck from the tender motion while your hands rub her thighs. And you also black out for a second when a few more spurts coat her walls even more, the pullout quick for a fist around the head of your cock, covering her waist in the remaining bits of cum still left inside you - well fucked and sloppy. 
Sana’s eyelids flutter shut, your hand rubbing along the oblique of your hips, that sense of desire finally fading away when you fully realize what had just transpired in the past hour or so. The lights are off in the house with the illuminating glow of the moon breaking through the window, tinnitus ringing in your eardrums and your eyes are fixated on Sana again, cross-eyed on the cum-soaked fingers she has, taking the liberty of sucking on them shamelessly, and the fucking noises she makes has your jaw to the floor. 
“Thank you,” she says, sweetly, innocently, sitting up on the bed with her legs crossed, the trail of cum still apparent on her stomach. “You certainly did not disappoint.” 
You, my friend, are entirely fucked. 
“What’s gonna happen to us now?” you ask her, rubbing your face and shaking your head in disapproval while Sana cleans the rest of herself up with her fingers. “I think we made–”
“Did I not tell you to worry?” Sana’s quick to shut you down, her look cross while you don’t even bother to meet her in the eye. This is supposed to feel wrong, it shouldn’t feel like anything else besides that. She scoots herself over to you with a quick kiss to your cheek, one that you accept openly, but still feel pensive over. 
“We can talk about it later,” she says, sliding herself into the rumpled sheets, patting down the open space next to her. “Would you mind if I stay the night? In your room? And in your bed?” 
“I can’t really turn down that offer,” you laugh, following along with a hand trailing up the side of her figure, giving a meaningful press of lips to the spot of her hair, “I actually like the company now.” 
“Would you also mind if I want it later when I can’t sleep?�� 
“I’m seriously gonna hate you for this when we’re done.” 
“But I’m asking nicely.” she says, and hums this sweet tone when you lay next to her, feeling her ass shimmying against your cock underneath. “You’ll say yes,right?”
“Keep up with the needy act, and maybe I’ll have to fuck the want right out of you.” 
Sana rolls herself on top of you, finger tracing the lines of your face again, sketching, the bottom of her lip tugged by a pair of teeth. There’s that sly smile again, mischievous. It’s the reality now, she’s won you over. 
“Consider it a gift for you.” she adds, kissing you again before she goes slack on your chest, the wave of sleep finally setting in. 
(This actually comes later when you can’t dream a wink, staring up at the high ceiling: 
It only takes little effort for someone to make a house into a home - and you learn to the best extent possible, Sana slots in that missing piece where Dahyun is supposed to fill - without even fully realizing it. 
Her and Dahyun are two sides of the same coin, both give you this sense of ease and confusion that has you looking off while they’re trying to hide the inevitable laughs. They’re both also moodmakers with the way they look at you with the earnest smile, a reminder of one and the other that you’re not too far behind to follow. 
Every nick of the mouth moving, the glint in their eyes that will break you down from the shackles of rational thoughts while the springs in your bed are supporting the absolute fucking you’re doing over them. 
Maybe this summer will be saved after all.) 
When the crack of dawn breaks through the sunrise, you’re trying to recollect what little thoughts you have left of your deteriorating marriage; as in, what’s gonna happen to you when Dahyun finds out you’ve slept with her close friend who just happens to live in the house right next door, aside from other things. This space was now tainted in the heinous acts you’ve committed but the only thing that was filling the front of your mind was the amount of work emails you saw on your phone while waking up. 
“You’re just gonna leave me here in the bed all alone?” Sana asks, your back still turned to her when you mindlessly flick up the switch to your bathroom. 
A simple spin on the ball of your heel, and the image is just majestic to witness. 
This 5’3 brunette that’s all sunshine and rainbows, replaced by a deity that oozes sexiness and uncapped lust, lays on the side of her frame with an elbow propped up to support her head, hair still having that post-fuck frizziness to it, the sheets are covering most of her middle, but that outreaching left leg exposed, folds in, and you catch that slope of her hip, her ass is also not that far behind to look over. 
You already know her body all too well. If you could put someone that’s remotely close to the Greek god of Aphrodite, Sana would come very close to that. 
“Are you really expecting yourself to stay here?” you ask, fishing for your toothbrush before washing it with one hand, the other grabbing the minty toothpaste that was adjacent to it in the cup. “You know that I have work, not to mention working at home too.” 
You watch from the doorway when she sits up, the romp of her sheets falling over in front that shows that pale chest, her firm breasts that lay beneath her fine collarbones, there’s a new set of hickeys - the hickeys, showing your favorite spot to soothe her while she’s wailing in your arms, the rise and fall of her shoulders every breath let out has another wanting bite of her swollen lips. 
“Is it too much to keep you company?” she asks again, tugging on the comforter, hoping that she’ll get the right answer out of you.
“It’s not that I mind about the company of you, it’s the fact that others would get suspicious.” you retort, placing down the brush filled toothpaste on the counter, “That’s the last thing that I want to happen.” 
“How long has Dahyun been at trial with her firm?” 
“At least a couple weeks at this point.” 
“That’s what I thought.” 
“You need to go home.” 
“But your place is a lot nicer than mine, clean also.” she smiles, looking up little by little when you approach her on the edge of the bed. A hand is outreached with hers, and it’s damning how well it fits with yours, the automatic reflex of brushing your thumb over the highest peak of her middle knuckle. You don’t even flinch at the fact that she’s moved your hand over to her breast, tracing her nipple. It’s not hard to ease into these seductive advances, softly chuckling at the way Sana’s tit has a sort of weight to them - perky, but impossible to resist. 
“What am I gonna do with you?” you ask yourself, a little loudly for Sana to hear too, “I have to get ready.” 
“Breakfast on the table?” 
“Have you freshen up before you do the walk of shame next door.” you whisper, helping her up, swooping under her legs in a bridal carry. The tangle of her hairs on your chest when she leans her head in, laughing, the smell of citrus and lingering sweat. “The comforter was too heavy and hot anyway.” 
Sana just giggles, waving her feet in the air, into the bathroom where her skin glows a little bit lighter. “What’s the point of having that open room next to yours if it’s not used?” 
(There’s a lot of questions that don’t get answered. Partly because Sana can’t concentrate while you’re kneeling between her legs in the shower, lapping away at her clit, washing away any slick that’s left out; her fingers are splayed out across the tile, slipping, dripping away from her hips. 
You also shouldn’t be whispering these sweet nothings into her ear either, kissing her as if in another reality, maybe this too, could be a thing. It isn’t fair, it’s not right. She comes off as urgent, hoping to keep your mind off of the responsibilities sitting at your desk for just a little while longer. “Don’t do this to me.” That’s a plea, your mouth hovering over her neck, she has your dress shirt draped over her on the kitchen island with her knees apart again, filling in the space while she’s all porcelain teeth and warm tongue. She tugs on your lips like she wants every last bit of you, and it’s not worth fighting for. Her mouth gets on the cuff of your ear, and she whispers this spell, a curse rather, impending your fate even more: 
“I think you know all of the things that I would do to you.”) 
Fucking Sana has its own luxury. 
This living art piece wandering about in your house where no one else knows. She comes to your place, you go to hers, it’s a trade off that’s very easy to do when you’re just a few steps away from each other’s doors. 
We could also talk about benefits. The benefits. She asks for a couple favors - a helping hand to clean the house (yours or hers) as an example - you have some requests of your own, mostly to just have a quick bite of her cooking or pull some aged alcohol that was gifted to you a long while ago, half  the bottle already gone before the end of one night. It usually ends up with you sinking inside of her, caressing her gentle body, kissing the nape of her neck when your hips mesh with hers perfectly. 
It’s a new fun that’s profound in yourself. This super popular model that has every hot contact of companies you could name off the top of your head in her phone, taking a quick hiatus for some ‘me’ time. She’s got a solid income, her closet is full of brands that you take note of to give to Dahyun later down the line, and the sex man, it’s just fucking- well, terrific. 
If having Sana all to yourself was the prime exclusivity in its own right, the girls she invites over make everything much more interesting, just aside from the fact that she comes unannounced most of the time. Oh, and that girl in her picture framed back at her place, Chou Tzuyu, she’s a real sweetheart. You’ll have her tag along with Sana no matter what time of the day it is (or night, because you’ll always be free outside of work when it counts). 
Sana usually stays in your house more compared to hers, and she usually seeks you out first with a longing press of lips on yours. Tender, sweet, before you get into the best part of your regular business day, bending her over the nearest piece of furniture and dumping a nice hot load between her thighs while she goes on doing whatever you need her to do around the house to keep herself busy. 
She doesn’t let you have your way that easily. There’s this business call you’re doing, talking about how the numbers don’t really add up for this list of statistic report you were handed an hour prior, trying to fight the gravity of your head leaning forward–
“Sana, your fucking mouth. So good, jesus.” you mutter, cradling her head while she taps your cock on her perfect lips, laving her tongue over before she dips down again, pushing you past the tightness of her throat. 
–of the very person pushing your thighs apart underneath the desk when she primes at the very angle, bobbing her head slowly while maintaining that hypnotic friction of her hand over your shaft. 
You hit the key binded to the mute button on the call, not giving a single ear of the person in the session rambling about well, if we could get an extra day or two with the new inputs for the program, then maybe we the numbers that are put together can line up with the graph - ‘and, let me get this straight–’ 
“Mmph, god.” You’re broken down to just a few simple actions, combing Sana’s hair, guiding her silkly mouth onto your cock, and she doesn’t let up the fucking pace. You’ve got your fingers intertwined with hers on your thigh, not giving a care of how she’s so persistent to get you off like this, choking, drawing back for some air - her pinky and ring finger moving in this motion on the tip that has you shuddering. 
“Such a fucking hard worker,” she says, biting her lip, the glare in her eyes that’s nearly demonic while her tongue slips along the underside and upper part of your cock. “How could you talk so calmly while your dick is in my mouth?” 
“I’ve had practice before,” you answer, slightly smirking at the memory of Dahyun doing the exact same to you long ago, it’s no different.
Keeping it together wasn’t the option anymore, while the rush of Sana’s mouth is drawn back to you, proceeding with the online meeting as planned, discussing the future plans delegated to your coworkers. Too bad that they can’t hear the litany of gurgles and gags happening below your desk, struggling to not use one hand and keep Sana buried under there, watching with that lustful look in your eyes when she knows you’re about to pop, the shake of your leg as the sole hint to what she needs before putting both hands into the mix, all wet while every ounce of focus gets diluted to the ceiling. 
The meeting eventually ends while groaning at Sana’s throat bottoming you out, spilling inside that heat with a weak buck of your hips, shoving everything into her where your balls meet her chin. It just happens, more and more; her mouth is so fucked for you that some of the cum gets on her teeth when you slide out of her. The worst part: you’re still fucking leaking, getting it on her bottom lip, another rope above her eyebrow; the splatter doesn’t even end when she lightly presses a thumb down at the base and you get another drop to her cheek - it still isn’t fair when she wraps her fingers around, lightly stoking while your entire lower half of your body is still twitching once the work is all done. 
Sana can be evil, but she goes back to being a bundle of joy when she plants a kiss to the tip, pushing your chair back and kisses you back on the lips, wiping some remnants of your cum from your lips onto her fingertip while she sucks them cleanly. “Productive call?” 
“Got a few more clients to talk to, but thanks. I needed that.” you sigh, fingers on her chin to assess the proof, nodding Sana off to go ahead and wash up before cooking lunch. 
“You still want the usual meal?” 
Sana goes away for a few days, and the place gets hollow again. 
You have the phone in your ear with your manager to talk about potential vacation time (talk about great timing too), and with a press of a button on the TV, you see the headline on the channel broadcast: 
Dahyun and her firm won the trial. Which means that she’s finally coming home.
Dahyun’s homecoming is a bit short lived when you wait for her right on the street, her personal chauffeur rolling away while she’s walking to you with a duffel bag, a carry-on luggage, and her briefcase that she sets down before jumping into your arms. She smells soapy, a nice tinge of lavender when you bury your nose into the midpoint of her collar and neck. You tell her that you’re proud, give her the necessary congrats before dishing out the reassurance that you didn’t burn the goddamn place down while she was out saving her own job. 
“You didn’t miss much,” you say, watching Dahyun take a longing bite of the salmon dish you cooked for her, the hum of approval with that smile you’ve missed so much for god knows how many weeks has it been. “Besides the fact that you were saving your career, I kept myself busy with the projects at mine.” 
“Really,” she starts, “I would think that you’d drive yourself insane up until I finally managed to get back. That racing sim setup would literally drive your attention away from me, so I thought that was one of the things to keep you busy.” 
“I didn’t even have the whole thing unboxed yet,” you manage, swiping her glass of water for you to drink out of while she drives the knife into the food for another slice. “If anything, I was just cooped up in my office while keeping the house nice and tidy.” 
“Good to know. Have you been doing stuff with the others while I was gone?” 
“Who do you mean?” 
“I mean. Jihyo, Mina, maybe even Sana.” Dahyun says, and your gaze shifts from stoic to this more pensive one; like the last name makes you remember things that you’re not supposed to. “You did help with Sana right?” 
“I did. I was hoping that she left a handful of messages for you to read when you got off the plane.” 
The doorbell rings, and your wife is quick to answer it with that fast-paced walk of hers. By the time she opens the door, the home is filled with a familiar sound that was echoing through the hallways not that long ago, a week, three weeks even. 
Sana greets Dahyun with a loving embrace much like yours earlier this morning. Their conversation was pretty much filled with the usual ‘when did you get back?”, ‘you have to fill me in on everything that happened at your work!’, and ‘did you give him a hard time with the stuff you asked him to do?’ All of these questions have your head at an angle when you see the pair of them cling onto each other, like lost friends who haven’t seen each other but miraculously reunite at an airport after who knows what time frame you’d put them in. 
(Sana gives you this gaze, one that will have you kicking your heels while she combs down Dahyun’s hair, that sly smile of a girl who knows what they did, what she does to you.) 
You do nothing, just give her the simple wave and smile like nothing ever happened, while your mind plays a whole different tune and movie in the back of your head. 
(A small tidbit about montages: these moments in time from here on out to help shape up how stories play going forward. It’s not pretty, playing Sana’s game of chess while the ‘oh, my wife doesn’t know I cheated on her with her best friend who just happens to be our next door neighbor’ runs in your head. 
The blips don’t also fucking help either:
Instance #1: Another house party hosted by you and Dahyun where you bump into Sana in the kitchen, who returns with a playful tap to your crotch and a smack to your ass that has you buckling forward while you hear her laugh fade into the crowd.
Instance #2: Sana comes over for a movie night with Dahyun. While she went to use the bathroom, she uses this as an advantage to straddle over your lap, sucking your face up with her lips like a vacuum in the dark before she hurries back to her original spot on the couch, fixing up her hair and wiping her lips, playfully pointing at the hickey underneath your jaw that has you rolling her eyes by the time Dahyun settles back in the seat.  
And finally, instance #3: The infamous office room incident. Where you had a dinner party with the neighbors again to celebrate your promotional achievement of heading this massive project that would benefit into making electric cars more affordable for the common money maker. Everyone is having fun with the drinks and partying aspect of it while Sana is on her knees, again, in the dark, deepthroating your cock with the door open for anyone to notice. All urges are off the table when you and her stow yourselves away into the guest room (with the meticulously placed soundproof foam pads all over the walls) when you have Sana’s light body bouncing over your cock, hammering down her hot cunt for a few minutes while she bites her own finger when you switch up the tempo to be more slow, loving, a deliberate way where she can really feel every throb inside her. She has a hand to the small of your back, you’re covering her moans with your palm, making her cum over and over until she’s walking to her house with a stutter in her step. 
More incidents did occur, but there’s got to be a sense of craziness if we’re thinking of going through all of them.) 
“I’d say that things are pretty normal now,” you say, arm around Dahyun’s back with fingertips just grazing the top of her ass, legs over your lap while taking shade on the couch in the backyard patio, hanging out with a quartet of drinks on the table, two for you, and the other two for Sana and Tzuyu. 
They’re here on another hot Thursday, not wanting to risk a brownout with the a/c running for more than the viable six to eight hours that you’d normally have while working, taking a dip in the pool for a bit. Two pretty girls in clad bikinis: Sana in a revealing two piece that barely covers her nipples and pussy, Tzuyu in a striking singular bathing suit that shows those luscious thighs almost having you drool when she gets out of the water. 
“This was so much better than just walking around in our underwear around the house.” Tzuyu says, laughing, grabbing her bottle of this brand you pulled from the fridge when she takes a nice swig. You remember the faint memory of waking up one morning with Tzuyu and Sana, both of them taking turns fucking you in different parts around the house. Tzuyu on the couch in the living room and Sana again on your office chair, hopping along your cock while you’re typing in a report on the desktop. 
Sana’s laugh fills the atmosphere when she talks about pushing Dahyun into the pool, her look unamused when you stare at her in bewilderment while she sees Dahyun slap your shoulder, motioning you to take on the defensive. “You really have nothing else better to do than to spend your time with us.” 
“You and Dahyun are good company.” Sana says, dismissively, hand on Tzuyu’s thigh to also include her in the conversation. 
Dahyun shifts her legs off of your lap, pulling them in towards her while you sit up, leaning forward for the empty bottles before you’re stopped by Sana and Tzuyu, who both offered to get another round of drinks back inside while you relax. The pair of them both walk away, arm in arm, two beautiful girls with both bearing breathtaking asses, all within line of your eyesight. 
“You don’t think I know,” Dahyun says, snapping your gaze immediately back to her. 
“Know what?” you say, crossing your arm over while she leans in closer to you, making a face that looks very serious, but not threatening. A lick of your inner lip sends you uneasy while Dahyun’s eyes stare deeply into your soul. That deepening pit of anxiety inside your stomach has you second guessing on whether or not being honest and transparent with your wife should be the best route to go knowing what you did. What you’ve done. 
“Nothing,” she answers after, “Wanted to test something out of you.” Dahyun then leans her head into your collarbone while you stare out into the blue horizon hearing the sounds of Sana and Tzuyu come back with another bundle of bottles waiting to be downed. 
This happens entirely on a whim, and when you’re not even a part of the picture. 
Sana answers the door to her house, eyes shooting up when Dahyun’s at the top step, smiling with a bag from the bakery and a full bottle of sparkling cider. 
It’s the usual game of the catch-up conversation, Dahyun talks about her draining work from the trial, plus her extended vacation time handed by her boss. Sana talks about the upcoming collabs that she’s been appointed to, a plane waiting with an open door for her on the taxiway by the end of the month. 
Exchanging laughs, quick memories of their past hangouts. The high-school reunion type vibe has this sense of nostalgic feeling between the two of them, but Dahyun drops the act completely out of nowhere to talk about more pressing matters. 
“How long?” she asks Sana, placing her glass neatly on the counter across from her. 
“What are you talking about?” Sana says, swallowing down a lump of bread down her throat, worrying. “Did I do something wrong?” 
“I know you’ve been getting cozy with him,” Dahyun says flatly, “I just want you to tell me if that’s true or not.” 
“About?” 
“Getting his dick all up inside of you like you wanted.” 
“I thought you were okay with it?” 
“I never said anything remotely close to that.” Dahyun sighs, grabbing the half-full bottle of cider before downing it straight from the opening, placing it down right after while Sana taps her finger on the counter. “Besides, he’s probably worried that our marriage is ruined.” 
“Doesn’t seem that way.” 
“Sana, what are you implying?” 
“What I’m implying,” Sana prompts sweetly, stepping towards Dahyun around the counter, snaking a hand down her waist where it’s open in the crop-top, kissing her by surprise. Dahyun’s mouth opens wider, fingers curling around the nape of Sana’s neck, like an old memory locked away coming to light again. “Is that we show your lovely man that shouldn’t be the case between us.” 
She dips her face into Dahyun’s again, the kiss more intoxicating than the first initial contact. It’s how Dahyun melts down from Sana, the way her spine curves backwards, Sana’s hands there at the perfect time to support her, both of them are panting into it, how open they were about their feelings for each other before you waltzed in to have Dahyun all to yourself. 
“I hate how I like you and him both.” Dahyun gasps when Sana plants her lips across her neck, her hands grasping her waist and ass that gets this hum of approval from Sana on her skin. “Maybe we could find a probable compromise to solve this little problem?” 
“Is it the same compromise I’m thinking of seeing his pretty eyes when we cum all over his cock?” Sana asks with a wink while Dahyun just giggles into her chest. 
“I love it when you and I are on the same page.” 
A sigh leaves your lips when you hear how the metal grinds inside the lock of your doorknob, pushing the front door open to see the surprise of an article of clothing, sitting at your feet, tilting your head to the side when you pick it up to see that it was a cropped shirt. The soft sound of the humidifier fills the eerie silence when your eyes notice another piece of clothing a few inches away from the shirt, connecting the dots in your mind realizing the trail of clothes up the stairs. 
Once up the steps, the pieces start to get larger: first a shirt, then some stockings, the door leading into your bedroom was ajar, the knob hanging with two pairs of panties. The hinges on your door squeak but so quietly, and your ears are greeted with a familiar laugh, not just one, but two. 
Without producing any more noise to make your presence known, your eye captures the sight of Sana on your bed, dipping her head lower to a girl laying underneath, caressing her face while the other girl giggles, returning the kiss openly. It’s pretty peculiar, when you also realize that both of them are naked on your mattress, it’s also really fucking peculiar when you connect the dots that the girl laying underneath Sana is Dahyun of all people. 
“I suppose that Sana’s little secret was finally let out by her.” you finally say, leaning on the door frame with the smooth wood wide open. And when the both look up at you, Sana looking up and forward, Dahyun looking from under while laying still, fuck, it’s sending signals to your brain at the image of them on top of each other like this, a mesh of skin on skin, their pretty faces stacked on their chins - you could sketch it on an easel, because that’s a literal art piece in real time. 
Your mind doesn’t even register the few seconds after, when both Dahyun and Sana make way towards you, the movement of their bodies in perfect sync, hypnotized at the way you watch how they stand on their tiptoes - ghosting their hands all over your chest and hips while your hands tend to their asses, palm at the defined fit of them, softly laughing. 
“We had,” Sana and Dahyun both say each word in different pauses, something straight out of a horror movie at the way they ad lib each other’s utterances. “An idea,” Sana adds. “That you’d hope you’ll like.” Dahyun finishes. “Would you like to see what we were discussing?” 
(God picked your battles, and maybe you could let him off the hook just this once.) 
“Impress me,” you simply say, while Sana pulls your head into hers when she kisses you in front of Dahyun. 
So Sana and Dahyun return to the positions where you first found them.
The only difference being, Dahyun hanging her head off the bed upside down, dragging her tongue across the seam of your balls while Sana’s tongue slips inside your mouth, her slender fingers giving these languid strokes to your cock while the pair of them just hum in content, getting you ready when all of the gears are primed to click. 
The contrast between the two of them, Sana being gentle with her lips while Dahyun is the complete opposite with hers, aggressive with the way her tongue swipes across the underside of your cock, her hands wrapped around your thighs to get more of those lavish licks at the base that has you counting stars behind your eyelids early. 
“How are you rock fucking hard?” Sana husks, brushing her lips against yours while Dahyun leaves a path of pecks to your inner thigh before she rolls her body over, looking up with her doe eyes while Sana lets herself fall right next to her, flipping her hair back while the sheets crinkle at the elbows, reflecting the same look before flashing her eyes back at Dahyun. “Makes me wonder who you’re gonna finish inside of at the end of this.” 
“Didn’t know that this was a competition,” you say, mind zoning out when Sana draws her tongue up your underside now in a quick lick, Dahyun smiling on the opposite end doing the same exact thing, that will most definitely bite back your words. 
It’s only right that Dahyun gets to be the first to push your head into her mouth, inhaling a bit while her tongue smoothes out across the area, delicately brushing along the length that sends the synapses in your spine on an electrical current. Sana just looks in awe at how much your wife is taking you, twisting a hand in play while she plants a wet kiss to her temple. 
You could get lost in the finesse of how Dahyun’s small hands skate up your length, the cushion of her mouth already enough to have your tongue between your teeth, but Sana didn’t come her to just watch, tapping lightly on her shoulder and sliding you out of one heat into the next, and the expectation you had for Sana blowing you always gets thrown out the window. 
“Fucking whore she is,” Dahyun rasps when Sana lowers her lips more down your cock, rolling along with the lightest graze of her teeth along the top, a twitch of your legs with a billowing puff of your cheeks to let them know that what they’re doing is working. How many times has he let you blow him under the desk? You hear Dahyun ask Sana, pulling some stray strands of hair from her side when she clasps her lips at the base, keeping you there in the sweltering heat. 
“Oh Dahyun,” Sana reprimands, “You have no idea how much I’ve made him cum while you were away.” 
A hand is thrown into the mix, behind both of their heads when they meet the glints in their eyes, uniformly taking your cockhead from the side, slowly sliding down at the suction, how they both fluidly slide you in their mouths in alternating fashion. Sana popping with her mouth, Dahyun swiping along the slit the next second. 
“Christ girls,” and you could hear the giggles of satisfaction to your amazement when they both have a hand along the length, stroking slowly to the point you can’t even look them in the eye. “You had this planned for a while now, haven’t you?” 
“I was against Sana’s crazy idea,” Dahyun purrs, face flushed when you notice that Sana’s hand is at her rear, fingers dipping into her cunt that’s already slicked up, waiting to be stretched, “but then she convinced me otherwise after some- propper persuasion.” 
“Tell me,” Sana chimes in, that innocent pout with her pursed lips doing absolutely no justice to how she looks right now, “Who do you think is the bigger slut between the two of us, me? Or Dahyunie?” 
Dahyun guwaffs when she leans into your palm, slapping your cock along her lips while you thumb the soft skin on her temple, swiping the underside of your head makes you grit your teeth at the amount of teasing they’re both doing. “Maybe he should fuck our faces to see,” she suggests, “Who could choke the hardest over this fucking cock.” 
(With a pair of wide open eyes, you could only mouth the word, “fuck.”) 
“You’d like that anyway, won’t you daddy?” 
The obedience settles in when both of these girls let their hands rest on the edge of the bed, finger and thumb wrapped around your cock when you tell both of them to hang their mouths open, rubbing your tip around the rim of Sana’s lips when she opens wider, wider until her jaw fully slacks at the whole length, and you love how she’s a pro at this. 
You take your deserved pleasure of how each of these girls' mouths feel around you. Sana’s lips being so unbearably perfect with those pretty lips of hers, sliding out and have Dahyun practically inhale your cock next, her eyes blinking up over the tight seal she has over you. “Jesus, baby–” 
Sana helps play the guide fucking your cock more into Dahyun’s mouth, the subtle flick she has sliding around with every move and thrust flushing into her throat. Her small lips were already ahead of the curve mirroring Sana’s movements a few minutes ago, the pressure sending waves from your hips up, lightly clutching her hair to keep the ache building. 
“Taking your baby so well, huh?” Sana growls over the sound of Dahyun desperately slipping her head down your length. “You like how she’s deepthroating you after not having your cock for a whole month?” 
“Feels so fucking good,” you answer, spreading your legs apart to keep Dahyun’s mouth on your cock warm, moaning so loud when Sana’s other hand works your balls, fingernails scratching along the ridges of skin while she fingers her, the moans sending vibrations along your shaft nearly breaking you. “Keep- gonna cum on this pretty fucking face.” 
Borderline filthy, almost off the fucking rails. Sana doesn’t like to play fair when she pulls Dahyun off of your cock, the drag of her tongue stripped off with a line spit connecting to her lips that’s soon catered to Sana’s mouth kissing Dahyun again, and the sight in itself is a blessing that you’ll never take for granted, how their faces tilt every second they meet, the smile breaking at the corner where you could notice them, delicately letting their fingers explore their faces, hooking into their hair and necks, the rise and fall of their shoulder every breath taken. 
Sana’s head spins out of control when she’s pushed onto the pillows of the bed, propping on her elbows while Dahyun spreads her knees apart more, kissing up the line of her inner thigh. “Dahyun,” she rasps, head reeling back when she’s getting close to the center, “I’ve been dreaming of this to happen for so long: you eating me out while your husband is oh- looks like he’s already ahead of the–” 
You don’t pay attention to their short exchange of words, relishing in the taste of Dahyun’s pussy, licking past the slit when you grip her asscheeks a little more tighter, a slip of the tongue over her clit, lapping up in the ways that you know your wife likes. 
Like the trail of clothes to the bedroom, your vibrations transfer up to Dahyun’s mouth and into Sana’s cunt; it’s a connecting line of fucking when you slide your tongue deeper, where the heat is the most hot, hooking your arms over Dahyun’s thigh’s while Sana grips her head, whimpering the moans where she’s left struggling for air. 
“Look at us, Dahyun, shit, he’s eating away at you, you’re eating away at me, this is so fucking good.” 
Sana’s the first to sputter, the amount of hums in approval, cracking under the faults. You and Dahyun are on the same page when you’re slipping two fingers in - then three; Dahyun catches on while getting fucked over, adding her four fingers into Sana’s stretching pussy. She’s gonna lose it. 
That whine she makes, when she’s over the edge, it’s the missing symphony in your ears. 
“Yes, I’m cum– gonna fucking cum,” she cries out, Dahyun leans all the way in, back arched in a way that would rival a gymnast. The way your fingers are clutching at her snowy skin, enough to easily scratch and draw bruises, she’s quivering when you’ve also made her reach the peak like Sana: these meaningless sounds, air getting more static through their tracheas. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Dahyun whines out matching Sana’s volume, hips tensing while your mouth is pressing against the pucker of her ass, tongue and finger tag teaming while she fucks Sana through her sensitive pussy, past the first hurdle of cumming and skating a pair of fingertips over her clit, making Sana lock her knees while the circles on her nub continue, speaking complete nonsense and in mewls. 
“I’ll fuck you now, just like you wanted.” you spit, pulling yourself closer to Dahyun by the hips, her whole body relaxing when you have the head of your cock, skimming the folds of her pussy while Sana cradles her head on her boobs, leaving languid kisses while Sana puts her legs up underneath. 
“Need it–” Dahyun pants, only to be shut up by Sana kissing her again to keep her dazed. 
“What do you need, honey?” you ask, leaning forward to kiss the line of her back, hand massaging her waist before you retract your hand up the dunes of her hip, onto the divot of her hip while impulsively smacking your wife’s ass that makes her yelp at how hard you hit it. 
“Your cock- need your cock inside me-” She can barely answer while she’s drunk at the teasing of your cock along her pussy while Sana’s lips work her neck. “Need you to fuck me.”
“Well, he’s gonna have his work cut out for you isn’t he?” Sana asks, massaging Dahyun’s waist while the top of your thigh meets Sana’s ass, licking your finger to make her squeal when you rub it on her clit, and you get several. “Fucking our brains till we’re drained.” she tells you, watching as you stroke the length of your cock. How long could you hold out? How much can you handle? You’ll be good for us, let you easy- until you’re cumming a whole fucking mess. 
Sana means business, Dahyun is already putty just waiting to be put back into a tube and spilled over on the bed. “You two will be good girls for me, and I’ll fuck you guys right.” 
You mean what you say, it’s in existence. And when you push your head into Dahyun’s perfect pussy, the opening rips out a tone within her that you’ll always remember - sucking in an air at the clamp, taking you all the way. Sana smiles at the wince Dahyun makes, holding her face when you pull back, slowly thrusting halfway, the tightness leaving you speechless. 
That very moment where you’re sinking - where you don’t even have to say anything. (Because Dahyun was just made to take your cock that doesn’t feel undeserving at all.) Her ass is spread out, cunt gripping the whole fucking length while she buries her head into Sana’s neck. You could also hear a hush come from Sana’s lips while you’re still fixated on your cock disappearing inside of Dahyun. 
“Just-” Dahyun sputters, the octave in her voice going up pitch by pitch, fucking her soaking hole while you’re pushing everything to the possible ability you can, where you can feel the clench around your head, sobbing, hands over the dough of her ass, getting her cock drunk until you senselessly empty yourself inside her. 
“Harder,” Sana chides, tongue on the neck while she’s the supporting beam of the shaking girl laying on top of her. “I want her to be broken in two.” 
So you keep pounding, this familiar angle with your hips to where Dahyun has died before, shrieking while she feels like she’s floating in her head. When you see her head move over to the side, her profile in view, you’re blown away by the fade of her blush, Sana’s hand underneath to her chin, her back arched to the highest point she could possibly have it in, pistoning yourself in like it wasn’t the daily routine as it is, not ever realizing that it would never stop being like this. 
When her moans reach the apex, you could see Dahyun mouthing something, a wobbling lip hindering for her to even say the words properly - Baby, I’m gonna fucking– cum so hard on your- 
One final push in, and her entire lower half shakes, a dam finally cracking under the pressure. 
Sana’s just there to admire the artwork of her face, while reassuring that everything will be taken care of once all of this is done, a kiss to the lips while your cock continues to slowly plunge deep, cumming on your hips, the warmth too comfy to even leave. This would be great, one more sense of presence in the bed that will be a mainstay from now on. 
“Look at you doing so well for him,” Sana says, and she’s still laughing, drunk on the sounds of Dahyun while her half-lidded eyes are telling a different tale. “You’ve missed his big fucking cock, fitting so perfectly inside you, hmm? Look at how much you creamed all over him, ugh, filthy.” 
Dahyun just shudders while you’re massaging her inner thigh, pulling the head of your cock out of her fucked pussy, slapping the head agasint the sensitive clit, and you chuckle lightly at the small twitches she makes every hit that she feels; once, twice, thrice, and even the fourth. 
“Was that enough to satisfy you?” you ask, learning over to get your face in between the two pretty girls, getting a whiff of your wife’s hair while Sana’s quick to plant her lips on the cuff of your ear, bold, trying to hide how badly she wants the next go at you railing her. “Could you take more tries before your cunt gets my load all up inside of you?” 
“She’s not gonna answer that for you right away.” Sana sliding herself down, her fingers fluttering around your shaft. She does these circular motions alongside the skin that had your head sideways the other day back on the couch, realizing how sterile you were at being delicately handled, she’ll play that to her advantage, and she always finds something new. 
“Now that you had your fill with her,” she continues on with this while showering Dahyun with peppered kisses across her breasts. “Don’t you think I should have a go? Make you throb to the point where I get to feel the teeny bits of precum before you burst?” 
“Sana, that’s not nice.” you tell her, lightly tapping Dahyun’s waist, leaning over to the nook of her neck to whisper something. Have her something to do while keeping Sana’s mouth occupied, because I hate how she doesn’t shut up about things like these. And Dahyun follows along, still coming down on her high, shimmying her way up on her knees and when she finally hovers over Sana’s face, you see the quick peek of her tongue tip in preparation while your fingers are working fast around Sana’s thighs, pulling her towards you and priming Dahyun for the perfect angle. 
“Should we shut this little slut up, honey?’ Dahyun asks, biting her lip at you while you slapping your cock along Sana’s folds, to an amount enough for her to hide the growl coming out of her mouth. “I think she’s a little too antsy for the both of us.” 
“Ladies first,” you smirk, providing the common courtesy, dipping your cockhead in before backing out, catching the small ‘fuck’ being let out by Sana. Dahyun takes the quick moment of weakness as an opportunity to finally sit on her face, her hand also quick to rub her clit while the woman’s open mouth on her pussy starts to tear away at the threads, and you know Sana well enough to describe the feelings. 
It’s listed as this: tight, so fucking tight to the point that it should be considered to a world class delicacy that’s not meant to be enjoyed leisurely. 
That sharp draw of air through the thin lines of your teeth, finding that leverage into her cunt, easing into her, trying not to get ahead of yourself when she’s finally flush with your hips. You could hear the hum of satisfaction through Dahyun, her hand gripping Sana’s hairs between her legs, lightly grinding her cunt over her wet, hot mouth. 
“Right there, yeah, there we go.” How your cock stretches alongside the walls, spreading her apart. It’s always a real show to keep both eyes open on, no quarter of the inch left behind. Sana would be this tornado that swoops in places, taking people off their feet. In trade for that, she offers a grace with her person - a vibe that comes off as rich, tied to materialism, to be used as a personal fucktoy when the time is right, and that instance of ‘time’ happens to be legitimately, every time. 
You could take days to figure out how you managed to get in this position. It’ll only take you hours, minutes; hell, maybe even less than a few milliseconds to wrap your head around the fact of how full you make Sana with your cock, providing the same structure of strokes, slowly building up pace like with Dahyun a few minutes ago. 
“How’s he feeling, Sana? Does he fill you up well like he said that he would?” Dahyun finally says, hair curtaining the right side of her face while Sana’s eyes can only look up while her mouth works her pussy again. The gluttal sounds of moans and chokes and smacks of Sana’s lips on Dahyun’s other lips, the only thing that she can do while you’re splitting Sana apart, her also doing some small movements so that she could fuck herself back onto your cock. 
Dahyun pulls her hips up for Sana to speak, “Oh baby, it’s fucking me so deep. Want him - want daddy to fuck this pretty pussy–all for him.” 
“Is that something you can do…fuck her cunt the same way you fucked my cunt?” 
This takes a pause, flashing a gaze to Dahyun while you could feel the muscles flex in Sana’s legs and hips, driving yourself into her continuously, keeping a rhythm in check. The demand that’s being proposed doesn’t even register in your mind and Dahyun does this swift motion of doing a complete one-eighty of her hips, pressing her ass down onto Sana’s forehead, leaning over with a hand onto her waist while the other pulls your face in with her small fingers. You’ll have to pay attention, because her lips are quick to keep you from snapping out of Sana’s perfect pussy. 
“What are you asking me to–” 
“I want you–” one kiss to get you drunk from Dahyun, “to fuck her properly–” another kiss to keep focus, “until she cums–” nothing wrong with having a third kiss, “all over this perfect cock.” 
Your hand is quick to reach across for Dahyun’s breast, kneading it in a way that she knows that she’s still yours, her eyes flickering down to the sight of your cock sinking back into Sana’s blown cunt, floating a pair of fingers on the clit, watching as you tear her apart, not wanting to shy or look away herself. 
Sana’s quick to pull her face off of Dahyun’s ass, gasping for air before sweeping the flat of her tongue across her pussy once again, “So fucking perfect for me, daddy, please, don’t stop,” is what she says to you while you can see her legs go limp slightly from the sides. 
The creaks of your lofted bed frame are singing at the shift of movement between the bedsheets and pillows, pulling yourself (with Sana inside still) up to the edge, planting both of your knees when you bottom yourself a little bit more deeper. You notice the image of Sana’s face fucked out, how she’s blushing, twisting her head to the right with her eyes closed, Dahyun manages to stave off to the side, taking a momentary break while you carry on with teasing Sana’s swollen clit, getting a few whines, moving her head against the sheets in a brief tantrum. 
“Had enough yet?” you had the frame of asking, smiling alongside the line of Sana’s neck while the temporary angle of your cock just nudges that one spot you’ve managed to hit a couple times, the symphony of Sana’s little ‘oh’s’ when a small move of the hips just has Sana’s cunt clenching the head of your cock to send you gasping as well. 
“Stop - stop with the questions,” she huffs, body stiffening before the wave of relaxation when you’re leaving more pretty bruises along the drawn canvas of her middle, licking up the deserved sweat of your hard work that’s also staining the sheets, along with the soaking that’s between your legs and hers. 
You get a command, Sana looks up in a panic when Dahyun tells you to start fucking her harder, lifting the small of her back to get her horizontal with the mattress. 
The levels just only seem to go up higher than then; Sana’s eyes being pulled down and rolled back. She knows you’re hitting the right spot, because of how she’s lightly pulling her legs up, you doing most of the support when she’s drawing these hitches of air, shuddering all over your waist while you push her beyond that edge. Her head is doing this bobbing motion when you slide with that upstroke, and you could feel the drag of her nails digging into your forearms that would seem accidental in another circumstance. 
Dahyun plays spectator, catching her breath, hand toying between her thighs while you’re fucking the girl beneath you into a spilled puddle all over your lap. 
“Are you seriously getting off without my help?” you ask, effortlessly gliding into the folds of Sana’s cunt. “Touching yourself while your best friend is taking my cock, sweetie? God, look at her, she’s wrecked.” 
Sana pulls you in with little strength she has left, able to get her arms around your neck and shoulders, tightening that pull even more against you. 
“Want you to cum,” she pleads, “I want you to cum inside and just, fuck, you don’t–” It’s miserable, hopeless, the power you have to just do exactly that with the way both Dahyun and Sana are both moaning and panting and just straight up rubbing both of their swollen clits while the length of your cock is still drowning in one of them. 
It’s how you do these broad strokes, slowly, strategically, a technique that you’ve perfected over the amounts of times you’ve got yourself completely fucked over, balls tapping above the pucker of Sana’s ass when pulling yourself in from the top of her thighs, a holding point while doing the best punishment of teasing you could ever do for someone like her. 
(Calling Dahyun over: shut this bitch up for me, please?) 
It’ll do you numbers in which: you’re still fucking Sana insanely hard still, with Dahyun’s head hovering above the present action. 
Sana’s clutching on to Dahyun’s leg, pressing her eyes into the skin, not wanting to let this fantastic feeling ever end, muttering all of the lovely things that she’s told you before multiple times. You could see the tug on her lips, tilting your head at how familiar the look was because you’ve seen it the first few times at how she couldn’t believe that you’d feel this good inside her, to get her stomach transformed into ashes and have her seeing stars. Sana’s body is “Pandora’s box’ full of lust, just waiting to be opened until you’ll give her opulence of what she needs from you, to fill her up. 
“Fuck her through and through,” Dahyun orders with this hint of anger, “need to see her cum–” 
“Give me your mouth, princess,” retreating from Sana’s exhausted cunt and getting Dahyun’s mouth all over you, cleaning up the mess of Sana’s slick right off of your length, stomach dipping when her throat swallows almost the entire half. 
Your ears are zeroing in on the gags your wife is making on your cock, doing a double feature while her fingers are rubbing Sana’s clit to keep that ache, grasping a high ponytail with one hand, sucking away that will have you dreaming that the tension is almost tempting of spilling inside her throat right at that second. Dialing back with what little warning you have left, slipping back into the other hot warmth below her chin. 
Despite the numbness clouding your brain, the obscene sounds of hums and whines tie in perfect tandem while you’re gliding back into Sana’s cunt, alternating between the tender rings of muscles, stretching around your cock in a one-two step: Dahyun’s mouth sliding and slobbering down your length, teasing Sana with your cockhead in her cunt massaging the walls around that squeezing vice. 
You’re not at fault for when it happens: face red hot from within, the sound that rips through your vocal cords while your knees buck at the sensation of Sana’s ass bouncing back off the edge of the bed, and the small gyration of her hips when you’ve driven all the way to the hilt, she can sense it too.
Again, you’re not at fault for the way your cock pulsates that first second inside Sana’s sopping fuckhole, the first shots at the deepest pit where you could take it, twitching while you’re trying to save yourself from losing all of it from the first hold. Any second longer inside that lovely heat will have you rethinking your life choices up until this point. 
You pull out, fist tight around your cock when you could see the lower point of your tip, giving an act of generosity firing another shot of cum inside Sana, cock out in the air where Dahyun sees the opportunity to lean in, drinking in the remaining spill that–
Scratch that, it’s not remaining, because you’re cumming everywhere. 
There’s drops of white spilling from the front of her lower lips, pumping out the leaks on the flat of Sana’s stomach. Shit, you even managed to get a few globs on Dahyun’s cheek, even up to Sana’s right tit. It’s all fucked, you almost topple over on top the both of them, the arm serving as a last gasp foothold while the color drains from your face. 
Dahyun pushes you up with both of her hands, staring at you with the splotches of your release slowly sliding down alongside her cheek. She’s taken aback with the load, but what she does with it–
(Well, don’t be surprised. She’s the love of your life for god’s sake.) 
Two fingers skate off some of the cum off her profile, rubbing it on her lips. You draw yourself away while Dahyun helps Sana sit up on the bed, her hand quick to dip under her cunt where she picks up more of your cum that you’ve spilt inside. Sana catches on quick to lick off the cum off of Dahyun’s cheek, tongue sliding across the plane to swallow, the small ‘mms’ and audible smacks of lips colliding. Dahyun just laughs when she examines her palm, placing it underneath her mouth and Sana’s both of them licking the dribble up like two birds in a bath, washed over with sweat and slick and filthy and–
“So fucking gross,” Dahyun says, finger to the arch of Sana’s brow, wiping a wisp of hair off. “Like, are you gonna be so full of yourself–”
“Hey,” Sana tuts, “Don’t get all mad now that I’ve managed to push his buttons better than you.” She then slumps herself over Dahyun’s lap, hand massaging her waist while Dahyun leans back on her palms, crossing one leg up the edge to support her head. They both get secluded in their own little world, whispering these different sayings to each other with a soft smile at one, a scrunched nose to the other. 
You manage to slot yourself to the side, next to Dahyun, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, “I thought this wasn’t a competition over me.” 
The pair simply roll their eyes, Dahyun runs her fingers through Sana’s hair, unconsciously, affectionately. They’re still coming down from all the fucked out clarities while they simply - just - look. Being proven wrong wasn’t that much of a loss in itself; in fact, it was actually inviting when you’re giving them the same confused expression that has the brain questioning everything from the plain existence to whether or not this new reality was even sustainable amongst the three of you. 
“We could all agree to an accord together,” Sana says enthusiastically, “like distinguished human beings- or, something like that.” 
(I mean, there’s a blueprint to draw up for that extra room anyway, but you’ll get to that later.) 
It’s during one Saturday morning, when the plates and bowls of today’s breakfast are already in the sink, you have a single carry-on duffel bag in your hand, placed on the highest step of the stairs, taking in that crisp air through your nose. Everything comes to a gentle slope, the clouds are high up in the sky, meshed up together, shielding the landscape from the beaming sun, and the time hasn’t even hit noon yet. 
“I just don’t get it.” you beam, elbows on the railing while your eyes get caught up in a pair of blue jay’s gliding past the street, fascinated by the companionship of nature. Only to have your attention drawn to the awaiting car on the driveway, Dahyun’s personal chauffeur (and to this day you’re still wondering if that person even gets paid or not). “All of this trouble of having a vacation, get reeled back into working, have more time off than expected, but still decide to take up another work order again?” 
Dahyun steps out the doorway, slapping your arm, leaving your face with a small wince that you play off with dead eyes. “I could call Nayeon to put in a word for Momo. If you’re making such a big deal out of it, I might as well tell them myself that I wanted more time off than need be.” 
“You said that it was work related.” you tell her as the counterargument.
“But it’s not!” Sana bursts out, all smiles while you’re walking down the pathway with another bag in your hand onto the asphalt. “Such a buzzkill, as if you didn’t want the whole place to yourself to burn down. You spend wayyyy too much time up in your little office, so consider this to be punishment.” 
“Where did this come from?” you ask, flustered, with arms up trying to play the innocence card. 
Dahyun pulls Sana’s singular luggage from her hand and into the trunk of the car, the bag you were carrying also next to be put before a shut off of the compartment. “We’ve been planning this for sometime, and now we’ve decided to do it. Together.” She pulls up her own passport with an airline ticket shoved in between the pages. You could probably guess where they’re going, judging from the assortment of clothes that they’ve packed, it must be somewhere tropical, like Cancun or in the Bahamas, maybe even Malaysia was on the cards, but you take it with a grain of salt. 
“Is this supposed to be a besties trip that I didn’t even know about until now?” you ask the two girls standing behind the car, leaning back onto the glossy material of the paint job while your arms are bridged between your chest. “I’m also assuming that this is predetermined–” 
“Stop being so analytical.” Sana groans out, “You really have to think twice about what our summer plans were?” 
“Maybe he just needs a few conditions.” Dahyun adds on, nudging Sana’s shoulder to which her face suddenly lights up in excitement. “Besides, he’s really good at reading between the lines, like, you know, he has a good thing for body language - go ahead, test him, I’m sure that he’ll show off like he always does.” 
(It’s how you catch yourself shaking your head downwards to the Earth, hiding the grin that’s breaking on your face because Dahyun knows how well you observe your surroundings. She’s trying to play dumb at the fact that she went ahead to grab your duffel bag while getting the shower ready for yourself. You also notice that Dahyun’s driver got her roughly about ten minutes early to put your bag in the trunk and pretend that nothing ever happened. It’s cute when she gets sneaky and mischievous, because Sana will always buy into what she devises to get you stressed, a migraine pounding through the back of your head, taking it out when you have both of them moaning underneath or straddled on top of you.) 
So you say: “Are there any guarantees to this if I do what you ask?” 
Dahyun puts her passport out in front, shifting her thumb over to show yours underneath. You pretend to be shocked with lifted eyebrows, but you already have them figured out. 
“Honey,” Sana says, blinking with her teeth peering through her smile, “I can guarantee that you've got us both.” 
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itneverendshere · 5 months ago
Text
played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron (three) - finale
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request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made" pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader. warnings: more angst <3; part one here; part two
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Staying away from Rafe was hard.
It was hard before you two tried to be friends and it’s even harder now that you gave him the no-contact ultimatum. Everywhere you went, it felt like he was there, even if he wasn’t. It was in the songs that played on the radio, in the way the sun set over the patio near your dorm, in the way his, now yours, shirts still smelled like him. 
You missed the late-night conversations, the way he’d laugh at your jokes, and how he could read you better than anyone else. But more than anything, you missed the way he made you feel—even if it wasn’t real at first. 
Every time your phone buzzed, you stupidly hoped it was him, even though you knew it wouldn’t be. You’d told him to stop, to leave you alone, and he had respected your boundaries even when it seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. And you’re proud of him for it—for once, he’s doing something right. But you’re mostly proud of yourself too, for sticking to your decision, for not letting him back in so easily.
Still, it doesn’t make it any easier.
You thought giving yourself space would help you move on, help you figure out if you could ever really trust him again. But instead, it just left this space where he used to be. You kept wondering how much of it was real for him—if any of it was. Maybe that’s why staying away felt impossible because a part of you wanted to believe he meant some of it, that his feelings weren’t just part of some game. 
You had to draw the line, to protect yourself from getting hurt all over again. And even though it hurt to keep him out, you knew it was the only way you’d figure out what you really wanted, without him clouding your judgment.
You tried to move on.
Slowly, cautiously, you started going on dates—nothing serious, just enough to remind yourself that there were other people out there, that Rafe wasn’t the only guy who could make you laugh or feel special. Every few weeks, you’d let yourself get dressed up, put on a smile, and meet someone new.
The first date was awkward, more like a practice run than anything else. You spent most of it comparing the guy to Rafe, noticing all the little things that didn’t measure up. It wasn’t fair to the guy, but you couldn’t help it. He wasn’t Rafe, and that’s all you could focus on. You ended the night with a polite hug and a promise to text, but you knew you wouldn’t.
The second date was better, but not by much. The guy was nice, made you laugh a few times, but there was no spark, no connection that made you want to see him again. You tried to be present, to give him a chance, but your mind kept drifting back to Rafe, to what he would say or how he would react to something. By the end of the night, you felt more exhausted than excited.
After that, you took a break. It was too soon, you told yourself. You weren’t ready to move on yet, and that was okay. 
Some days, you almost reached out to him. You’d pick up your phone, scroll through your messages, and your finger would hover over his name. It would be so easy to send a quick text, something casual, just to see how he was doing. But you never did. You knew that one message could ruinl everything you’d worked so hard to build—the distance, the boundaries, the fragile sense of self you were trying to protect.
Instead, you threw yourself into other things. Classes, the cheer squad, hobbies, anything to keep your mind occupied. You spent more time with friends, even though it was hard not to talk about him. You kept the conversations light, steering away from anything that would bring his name up. You didn’t want to be that person who couldn’t stop talking about their ex, who couldn’t let go, even if that’s exactly how you felt inside.
It helped, sometimes.
For brief moments, you’d find yourself genuinely laughing at a joke or losing yourself in a book or a project. But then something small would happen—a song on the radio, a glimpse of someone who looked like him, or the sound of his name in passing—and it would all come rushing back. It wasn’t fair. 
You’d think you’d be used to it by now, but each time it felt like a fresh wound. The memory of his laughter, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he always knew just what to say—it was as if he left a ghost behind, haunting every corner of your life. And in those moments when you’d catch yourself smiling or feeling light, it was like a betrayal. How could you allow yourself to feel joy when he wasn’t there to share it?
It was like trying to run from a shadow that moved with you, always there, no matter how fast you tried to go.
Every time you thought about him, about how he had hurt you and how you were struggling to move on, it felt like stabbing at an old wound, hoping it would heal faster if you just made it worse. The reality was that you missed him in ways you weren’t ready to admit.
Running into him was inevitable. Despite your best efforts to avoid the places he might be, your college was too small, too intertwined with memories of him.
The first time you saw him after the ultimatum was at a party you had reluctantly agreed to attend. You spotted him across the room, laughing with his friends, looking just as carefree as ever. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and for a moment, you felt stuck to the ground. But then he looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and the smile slipped from his face.
It was a small moment, one that no one else seemed to notice, but it felt like the all the air in your lungs had been sucked out. You forced yourself to look away, to focus on the conversation happening around you, but it was impossible to ignore the feeling of his eyes on you.
The second time was worse.
You were at the grocery store, just trying to get through your day when you turned a corner and nearly collided with him. The shock of seeing him so close, so unexpectedly, made you want to disappear on the spot.
You both mumbled awkward apologies, neither of you really saying anything of substance, just trying to avoid the awkwardness. But then he asked how you were.
“I’m fine,” you replied, too quickly, too sharply. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue.
He nodded, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to say more, to reach out and touch you, but he didn’t. You both stood there, trapped in a painful silence, before you finally made an excuse and walked away, leaving him standing there in the aisle.
After that, the encounters became more frequent. You saw him at the beach, in coffee shops, passing by on the street. Each time, it was the same—an awkward exchange, a few forced pleasantries, and then a quick retreat. It was like the universe was conspiring against you, refusing to give you the space you so desperately needed.
And each time, it hurt just a little bit more. Seeing him in these mundane, everyday moments, like nothing had changed, made it harder to keep up the distance you’d built. It reminded you of all the times when being around him had felt natural, easy, like he was just supposed to be there.
But the worst part was the way he looked at you. Jessica had told you before. He’d never looked at any girl like that. And you stupidly held onto that tiny hope even if you shouldn’t. 
You’d been trying to keep it together all night, but the sight of Jessica and Tyler laughing together, so effortlessly in love, was making you bleed inside. The drinks kept coming, one after another, until the room started to blur around you. You didn’t even notice how much you were drinking—only that it was easier to keep swallowing than to think about Rafe. 
But the alcohol wasn’t enough to quiet your thoughts.
Instead, it seemed to amplify them, making everything feel sharper, more painful. Jessica and Tyler’s whispered words of affection, the way his hand rested on her thigh, the way she looked at him with pure adoration—You couldn’t stop thinking about how that should have been you and Rafe.  
By the time you realized you were too far gone, it was late. You stumbled as you stood up, the room spinning wildly around you. Someone—Jessica, maybe—asked if you were okay, but their voice was muffled, distant. You tried to nod, to say something reassuring, but your legs buckled beneath you, sending you crashing back into your chair.
"Whoa, easy there," Jessica’s voice was sharper now, filled with concern. She crouched down in front of you, her hands steadying you. “You’re not okay. We need to get you out of here.”
You tried to shake your head, to insist that you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The room was tilting, spinning, and you couldn’t focus on anything. Your vision was blurry, your limbs heavy, and you realized, with a sinking feeling, that you were too drunk to take care of yourself. You couldn’t even stand up, let alone make it home.
Panic started to set in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to lose control like this. You weren’t supposed to need help.
“Jess… I’m fine…” The words slurred out of your mouth, but even you didn’t believe them.
“No, you’re not.” Jessica’s voice was firm now, almost authoritative. She glanced around, clearly trying to figure out what to do. The other girls were watching, their laughter fading into worried murmurs, “Baby, can you go and get her some water and sugar, please?”
She gently guided you to lean back, her hand on your shoulder to steady you. You tried to focus, tried to push through the fog in your mind, but everything was slipping away, your thoughts swirling together in a jumbled mess.
“Hey, stay with me, okay?” Her voice was softer now, almost pleading. She wasn’t just a concerned friend at this moment; she was scared. You’d never seen her like this before. 
“I—” You started, but the words tangled in your throat. You wanted to tell her that you were sorry, that you didn’t mean to ruin the night, that you just wanted to stop thinking about him for a couple of hours, but all that came out was a garbled sound that barely resembled a word.
“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, her thumb brushing lightly against your arm. “We’ll get you out of here. It’s gonna be okay.”
Tyler returned with the water and sugar, and Jessica took the glass, trying to get you to drink. The water felt cool against your lips, but swallowing was harder than it should’ve been. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of consciousness.
“Come on, just a little more,” Jessica urged. You managed a few more sips before the glass slipped from your grasp, water sloshing onto your lap.
“Jess, I—” You tried again, but before you could finish, you heard another voice, one that sent a jolt through your foggy mind.
He was there, right in front of you, and you knew it was him without needing to open your eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” you heard him mutter. He crouched down, gently lifting your chin so you were forced to meet his eyes. “What the hell happened?”
“She had too much to drink,” Jessica explained quickly, her tone defensive, as if she expected him to start blaming her. “We were just about to get her out of here.”
You tried to smile, to play it off like it was no big deal, but all that came out was a shaky breath. “Too much… too much, Rafe…”
“I can see that,” he said, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. He turned to Jessica, his voice all business now. 
You didn’t know how long he had been standing there. Was your brain torturing you? Making you believe he was there?
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he knelt down beside you, his hands grabbing your trembling ones. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer now, as if he was afraid you might break into pieces if he spoke too loudly. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?”
You wanted to say no, to tell him that you didn’t need him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, too tired and too dizzy to fight it.
He exchanged a look with Jessica and she sighed, her worry morphing into something closer to relief. “I’ll help you get her to the car.”
Your legs were useless, and you sagged heavily against his chest. He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up in his arms like you weighed nothing, cradling you against him. His scent surrounded you, familiar and comforting, and despite everything, you found yourself leaning into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”
You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. Your eyes fluttered shut as he carried you out, the sounds of the party fading away behind you.
The ride to your dorm was a blur. 
You were vaguely aware of Rafe’s arm around you, of Jessica sitting on your other side, rubbing your back in small circles. The motion of the car made your stomach churn, and you had to close your eyes to keep from getting sick. Uber or not, you weren’t about to ruin someone else’s car. 
When you finally arrived, he practically carried you inside while Jess fumbled with your keys before pushing the door open.
He led you to your bed, easing you down onto the mattress.
“I’ll stay with her,” he muttered, his voice leaving no room for argument. Jessica hesitated, looking between the two of you, before nodding slowly.
“Call me if you need anything,” she said to Rafe, squeezing his arm before she left.
You were barely aware of her leaving, still too drunk to process much of anything. He knelt down beside your bed, brushing a stray hair from your face. 
“You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby.
You wanted to say something, to tell him that you didn’t need him, that you were fine on your own.
You felt your bottom lip tremble. 
He noticed the change immediately, his blue eyes softening as he continued to gently brush the hair from your face. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of your jaw. “Just breathe.”
But that only made it worse. You could feel the tears welling up as you realized just how much you’d missed this—missed him. The safety of his presence, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did.
Your stomach churned, the nausea that had been building since you first sat in the car finally reaching a breaking point.
“Rafe,” you mumbled, your voice weak and shaky, “I think I’m gonna—”
He reacted instantly, his arms tightening around you as he quickly looked the room. “Okay, okay, just breathe,” he said, “You’re gonn be fine.”
But breathing was the last thing on your mind as the room started spinning faster. You tried to push away from him, your hand gripping his shirt as you fought to keep it down.
“Rafe, I need to throw up,” you managed to gasp, panic rising in your chest.
He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up from the bed and hurrying toward the bathroom. You barely registered the fact he was touching you again after so long, your mind solely focused on the nausea.
He got you to the bathroom just in time, guiding you to the toilet as you collapsed in front of it. He held your hair back with one hand, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back as you retched, the sound of it echoing harshly in the small space.
“It’s okay, I’m right here,” he murmured, grounding you as you emptied your stomach. You could feel the heat of his hand on your back, the gentle way he kept your hair out of the way.
When it was over, you slumped against the cool porcelain, too exhausted to care about anything other than the relief of having the nausea finally subside. Rafe handed you a damp washcloth, and you pressed it against your face, the coolness soothing against your overheated skin.
“Better?” he asked softly, crouching down beside you. 
You nodded weakly, unable to meet his eyes. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Thanks.”
He didn’t say anything, just stayed close, while you avoided his gaze entirely. The room was quiet now, the only sound the slow, steady rhythm of your breathing as you tried to regain some control.
“I’m sorry.”
You felt embarrassed, and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected, and you hated every second of it.
“Stop apologizing,” Rafe said gently, his hand still resting on your back. 
“Can you… can you stay over?” 
You didn’t want to be alone, not tonight, not with the way your heart was aching.
Rafe’s eyes softened, the way they did only for you, and for a moment, you thought he might agree, that he might stay and help you forget, even just for a little while. 
But then he shook his head, his expression pained.
“I can’t,” he said, his voice strained, like it hurt him to say it. “You know I can’t, sweets.”
You tried to hold it together, but it was no use. Before you could stop yourself, you were crying—quiet, heartbreaking sobs that you couldn’t control.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks, but it only made you cry harder. “I’m so sorry.”
You couldn’t even respond, the words tangled up in your throat. It wasn’t just that he wouldn’t stay; it was everything—the confusion, the heartbreak, the way you felt like you were losing him all over again, even though he was right there in front of you.
“Please don’t cry,” Rafe pleaded, his voice breaking. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. “I hate seeing you like this.”
You buried your face in his chest, the sobs shaking your entire body. The warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of him—it was too much, too close to everything you’d been trying to avoid. But you couldn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.
“I just… I just miss you,” you choked out, the words spilling from you in a broken whisper. “I miss you so much, Rafe.”
“I know,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “I miss you too.”
You clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping him from disappearing. The tears wouldn’t stop, and neither would the ache in your chest, the one that had been there ever since you’d forced yourself to let him go.
“I wish things were different,” his usually bright eyes were dimmed, his brows drew together as if he was in pain. He looked at you like he was memorizing every detail, like he was afraid this might be the last time, “I keep hurting you.”
His hands trembled slightly as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his touch gentle as his fingers cradled your face. His thumbs brushed away the tears again, but they kept coming, fresh and spilling over. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but all that came out was a ragged breath.
“Please don’t hate me more for this,” he whispered, his voice rough, barely holding back. His eyes searched yours, desperate for reassurance, for something to cling to in this moment that felt like it was tearing you both apart.
“I could never hate you,” you whispered back, the words catching in your throat as the tears continued to fall. It hurt to say it, to admit it out loud.
He left that night.
You had almost convinced yourself that it was better this way, that moving on, that he did you a favor that night by leaving, that keeping him out of your life was the only solution. 
Staying away from you was killing him. 
⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ
Rafe spent his days trying to distract himself, throwing himself into his studies for the first time in his life, into parties, into anything that would take his mind off you. 
But nothing worked. Every time he saw something that reminded him of you, it was like a punch to the gut—a song you liked, a place you used to go together, even the smell of the ocean would bring memories crashing back. He missed you so much it hurt.
And when he saw you, it was even worse. The first time he ran into you after the break, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. He was at a party, trying to forget, trying to lose himself in the noise and the crowd, when he saw you across the room. For a moment, he thought he was imagining it, that his mind was playing tricks on him. But then your eyes met his, and his heart almost stopped.
You were as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so, but there was something different about you—something guarded, distant. But before he could even think about crossing the room to talk to you, you looked away, your expression closing off, leaving him standing there like an idiot, staring after you. 
He’d told you he’d wait for you and he intended on keeping that promise. He couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to have you back, to hold you, to tell you how much he loved you, how sorry he was. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, never been this wrecked over a girl, but you weren’t just any girl. 
Rafe had never been good at groveling, at admitting he was wrong, but for you, he’d do anything. He’d get on his knees and beg if that’s what it took. He didn’t care about his pride anymore, not when it meant losing you. He was willing to do whatever it took to make things right, to prove to you that he was serious, that he loved you more than he ever thought possible.
But every time he saw you, he felt that hope slipping further away. The look in your eyes, the way you avoided him, it all felt like a final nail in the coffin. And yet, he couldn’t let go, couldn’t stop himself from yearning for you, from wanting you back in his life. He was going out of his mind, torn between respecting your wishes and fighting for you with everything he had.
Rafe knew he had to do something different, something that would show you just how much he had changed. The problem was, he didn't know what that was. He needed to find a way to prove to you that he was serious, that he was willing to put in the work to make things right.
So he started small.
He stopped going to parties, and stopped trying to drown out his feelings in distractions. Instead, he focused on becoming the person he thought you deserved—the person he knew he could be if he just tried. He started paying more attention in class, showing up on time, and actually studying. He even started volunteering, something he’d never done before, just to keep his mind occupied with something productive, something that wasn’t about him for once.
But the real change came when he began working on himself. He started seeing a therapist, something he’d always scoffed at before. He had a lot of baggage, a lot of unresolved issues that had driven him to hurt you in the first place, and he knew he needed to work through them if he ever wanted to be good enough for you.
It wasn’t easy. Therapy forced him to confront things he’d buried deep, things he’d avoided dealing with for years. Family trauma and all. But he stuck with it, because he knew it was the only way to get better, to be the kind of man you could trust again.
Slowly, he started to see changes in himself. He was more patient, more understanding, and more aware of how his actions affected others. He didn’t expect you to notice any of it—he was doing it for himself as much as for you—but he hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d see that he was trying.
And then he had to pick you up that night.
He had never seen you drunk before, you’d always preferred your fruity punch over any other alcoholic drink. He’d always known you as strong, independent, someone who could hold your own. Seeing you like that—broken, hurting—made something in him snap. Was this his fault? Had he done this to you? 
He knew he couldn’t stay that night. As much as it killed him to leave, he understood that this was part of growing too—the part where he learned to respect your boundaries, to give you space even when all he wanted was to hold you and never let go. You’d hate yourself the next day. He was doing you both a favor. 
The next morning, Rafe didn’t text or call. He wanted to give you time, to process everything without the pressure of him hovering. Instead, he threw himself back into his routine, keeping himself busy but always with you at the back of his mind. He wondered if you remembered anything from the night before—how close he’d come to breaking down when you asked him to stay, how it had taken every ounce of self-control to walk away from you again.
Days passed, and he didn’t hear from you. It felt like a new kind of torture, but he stayed strong, if this was part of the process then so be it, he needed to be patient. 
He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to make you feel like you owed him anything. But he couldn’t stop hoping that maybe, just maybe, you were thinking about him too.
So when the call came that you were in the hospital, his heart nearly fell through his ass. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate—he just went.
The thought of you being hurt, of something happening to you, was enough to make him speed over the legal limit. He needed to see you, to make sure you were okay, even if it was the last thing he did.
When he got there, his heart clenched tightly in his chest as he pushed through the doors of the hospital. He hated hospitals, hated everything about them—the smell, the sterile white walls. But none of that mattered now. All he could think about was you.
The nurse at the front desk directed him to your room, and he practically sprinted down the hallway, his mind racing with a thousand worst-case scenarios. He’d been too fucking anxious to ask if you were okay, as soon as your name and the word hospital registered, he was rushing over. When he finally reached your door, he paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you told him to leave?
But then he heard your pretty voice, soft and familiar. He pushed open the door and there you were, sitting up in the hospital bed with a sprained ankle, looking more frustrated than hurt. He breathed out in relief, so intensely it made his knees weak.
“Rafe?” you blurted out, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw him standing there. “What are you doing here?”
He took a step closer, “They called me. I’m still your emergency contact.”
“Oh,” you muttered, looking down at your hands. “I didn’t realize.”
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, but he could see the tension in your shoulders, the way you were trying to hold it together. “It’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing serious. Did a little too much during practice."
Rafe nodded, but he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The sight of you in that hospital bed, even for something as minor as a sprained ankle killed him. 
“Hey,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine. Really.”
But he couldn’t leave. Not now, not when you were right in front of him, looking so small and vulnerable. He shook his head, his voice coming out rougher than before, “I’m not leaving.”
You blinked up at him, “But you don’t have to—”
“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, his voice firm. “I know you can handle yourself, but I’m staying.”
Surprisingly, you didn’t kick him out.  “Okay.”
He pulled up a chair beside your bed, settling in like he had no intention of going anywhere. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint beeping of the machines and the murmur of voices from the hallway outside. For a moment, neither of you said anything.  It was strange, being this close yet so far away from you. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, taking in the way yours had softened, the way the lines of worry on your face were starting to smooth out. You looked tired like you’d been lacking sleep. He wished he could help, even if just for a little while.
“You know,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I used to think I was pretty good at taking care of myself. But then I met you, and I realized I’d never really let anyone take care of me before. Not like you did.”
“Rafe—”
“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently, “I’m still here. I’ll always be here, even if all I can do is sit in a hospital room with you and make sure you’re okay.”
You looked down at your hands, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
“I missed you,” you whispered, the words so quiet he almost didn’t hear them.
His breath caught in his throat, his heart squeezing painfully at the admission. “I missed you too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you for that night.”
He shifted slightly in his chair, leaning a little closer, careful not to overwhelm you but needing to be nearer all the same.
“I didn’t do anything special,” he murmured, though his mind replayed the events of that night. The helplessness he’d felt seeing you in that state, knowing there was little he could do to make it better. He hadn’t been sure then if you’d even wanted him there, but he’d helped you anyway. He couldn’t leave you, not when you needed someone—when you needed him.
“You were there,” a tear slipped down your cheek, and he instinctively reached out, his thumb gently wiping it away. The touch was soft, almost reverent, and it made your breath get stuck in your throat.  “That’s more than enough.”
You leaned into his touch for a moment, savoring the comfort it brought, even though it hurt to let yourself feel it, “Just glad you’re safe.”
“Why did you come?”
“Because I love you,” he admitted, tired of carrying the truth inside him, “I know I screwed up—God, I know that. But I’ve spent every day since trying to be better, trying to be the kind of man you deserve. And I know I have a long way to go, but I’m not giving up. Not on you. Not unless you ask me to.”
“You love me?”
Your voice sounded so meek, so unsure it made him want to punch himself in the face. This was entirely his doing. 
He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked nervous, and vulnerable, “Yeah,” he said, “I do. I’m in love with you, I just—” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how to say it, or maybe I was too scared to. Didn’t want to make you think I was saying it to save my ass, y’know?”
You’d always wondered what it would be like to hear those words from him, to have him admit that he cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 
“I didn’t want to push you,” he continued, fingers intertwined, “But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I couldn’t let you think that I didn’t care, that I didn’t want this, want you.”
You blinked, trying to process everything he was saying. This was the Rafe you’d always hoped for—the one who was honest and unafraid to show his emotions. But it was also the Rafe who had hurt you, who had made mistakes that left scars you weren’t sure had fully healed.
“Rafe, I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat.
“You don’t have to say it, sweets. It’s okay.”
“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “I’m scared of getting hurt again, of going back to that place where everything fell apart.”
He had changed—you could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way he spoke to you. He wasn’t the same Rafe who had hurt you.
"I’m not asking you to trust me right away," he continued, though there was a hint of desperation in it. "I know I need to earn that. But please, give me a chance to prove it. I don’t want to lose you again."
"You can’t wait for me forever.”
“I’d wait for you a lifetime. I told you,” His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing when he spoke, as if he was trying not to cry, “If you ever want me, I’m yours.”
His hands, usually so restless, were still now, resting on his knees as he leaned slightly forward in his chair. You saw the man he was trying to be—the man he wanted to be for you. He wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but he was trying. And that had to count for something.
“Even if I made you wait until we’re eighty and grey?”
Rafe let out a breathless laugh, the sound strained but genuine, “Even then,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “You’re it for me.”
It scared you how much you wanted to believe him, how much you wanted to pull him into your arms and tell him that he was it for you too. He reached out, his hand hovering near yours, waiting for you to close the distance. You hesitated for only a moment before your fingers intertwined with his.  It felt right, like coming home after being lost for so long.
He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were thinking, feeling. He looked like he was holding his breath.
“I love you too.”
It was still scary, still uncertain, but you realized that nothing worth having ever came easy. And Rafe, with all his flaws and all his efforts to be better, was worth it.
He exhaled, his shoulders sagging in relief, “I don’t deserve you,” he said whispered, lips pressed against your fingers, “But I’m going to spend every day trying to. I swear, I’ll never stop trying.”
You closed your eyes, “You’re gonna make me cry.”
Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, as if he could physically hold you together through sheer will alone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he started, his voice panicked, but you shook your head, cutting him off.
“No, it’s okay,” you whispered, opening your eyes to meet his. “I just… it’s been a long time since I let myself feel this way.”
He nodded, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand in slow, soothing circles. “You don’t have to hold back with me. Not anymore. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.”
The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, running down your cheeks. Rafe was there instantly, his other hand reaching up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears with a tenderness that made your heart hurt.
“I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked, “For everything I put you through.”
You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you, giving you the strength to keep going. “I was so miserable Rafe,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “Scared that if I let you back in, I’d get hurt again. Scared that I’d lose you all over again.”
“I know,” he said, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. “And I promise you, I’m not going anywhere this time. I’m here, and I’m not going to let you down.”
“I want to try.”
Rafe’s breath hitched, and he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours as if he couldn’t  believe what he was hearing. “You do?”
You nodded, a small, tentative smile forming on your lips. “I do. But we need to take it slow, okay? I need time.”
“Of course,” he said quickly, his eyes bright with hope. “We’ll go as slow as you need. I don’t fucking care sweets, I’m not leaving.”
You weren’t just giving him another chance—you were giving yourself one too. A chance to heal, to forgive, and to find your way back to each other.
Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment as if sealing the promise between you. “We’ve got this,” he murmured against your skin. “It’s you and me, okay?”
“You and me.”
Rafe’s eyes softened, and a genuine smile tugged at his lips, one that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. It was a smile you hadn’t seen in a long time, and seeing it made you want to bawl all over again. His hand cradled your cheek, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your jaw as his eyes locked onto yours, silently asking for permission, for forgiveness, for a chance to be close to you again. And when his lips finally brushed against yours, whatever pain you were feeling on your ankle disappeared. 
The kiss was soft, tentative at first, like he was afraid you might pull away, afraid to push too far too soon. But the moment your lips pressed back against his, that tentative touch deepened. Rafe’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand to be apart from you even for a second. You could feel the desperation in the way his lips moved against yours, the way his breath hitched when you parted your lips to let him in.
Just as you were about to lose yourself in him, the door to your room swung open with a creak. You both froze, lips still touching, as someone cleared their throat.
You pulled away from each other reluctantly, your cheeks flushed, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you saw the same blush of color on his face, the same love-sick expression that you were sure mirrored your own.
The doctor stood in the doorway, a clipboard in hand, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, I see you’re feeling better.”
Rafe cleared his throat, stepping back slightly, his hand still lingering on your arm as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet. “Uh, yeah, she’s doing great,” he mumbled.
“You must be the boyfriend.”
You couldn’t help the grin that took over, “Yeah. He is.”
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cranberrydietcoke · 25 days ago
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𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 - 𝘭𝘶𝘪𝘨𝘪 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦
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heavily inspired by this post by @subtlehums
content: 18+, lore accurate luigi, cigarettes, mentions of prescription drugs, guns, L word, established relationship, unprotected p in v, riding, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, kinda emo but fluffy but smutty, he’s so tragically beautiful idk i hope this does him justice
wc: 2.1k
a/n: i am a woman possessed. he is all i think about like its bad. shout out the girlies who found my blog thru tiktok comments lmaooo enjoy
psa: he is innocent until proven guilty! this is a fictional, hypothetical situation in which he did do it.
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“𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁. 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗱, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘁𝗿𝘆, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗼𝗺, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗻. – 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱.” - tweeted by @ pepmangione, may 1st, 2024.
you missed hawaii. that tiny apartment for just the two of you seemed impossibly big now, as you imagined the sunlight weaving in through the windows, casting shadows of waves onto the kitchen tile. you missed that kitchen, sharing coffee in the mornings before work, baking together. you missed the way the island held you both, lush and warm and predictable. the late nights, the conferences, the schedule – it’s funny how everything always seems so simple in hindsight. he had a way of making it clear he knew best, and you’d stopped arguing years ago. so, when he said to pack a bag for the mainland, you didn’t question it. you trusted him with a kind of faith that went deeper than any earthly explanation could offer.
the frosty breeze whips by you as you step out onto the fire escape of the hostel, headlights and billboards illuminating the city below. you could hear luigi’s furious typing from the chair inside over the sound of honking horns and screeching tires, occasionally pausing to reread it back to himself and flip through the starched pages of the book he’d been in for days. the eraser of the pencil he annotated with was gnawed to damn near nothing. the flick of your lighter shook him from his focus, snapping his head to watch as you wrapped yourself in your fur coat and brought a cigarette to your lips with deep red manicured nails.
“that’s gonna kill you, y’know that right?”
and he was right. not that it made a difference. six months ago, the thought of smoking a cigarette would’ve seemed absurd. now, it almost felt inevitable, like the distance between who you were and who you are had blurred and widened into a festering chasm.
 and yet, here he was – the one steady thing in your life, lounging in the peeling leather of the black desk chair, eyes meeting yours like nothing else mattered. the air inside was thick, saturated with things unsaid. tomorrow would inevitably come, but that seemed irrelevant compared to the man in front of you. you crouched with bent knees, weight balanced on the balls of your feet as you blew out thick spirals of smoke, teetering on the tip toes of your flats with each gust of wind.
“lu,” you strain through quick puffs, tapping a nail to the lit stick, causing ash to fall through the metal bars that held you up and onto the concrete of the new york sidewalk. “please.”  you scoff, lash-lidded gaze lingering over him through the open window, a look that he couldn’t bring himself to argue with. you were the fracture in the foundation of his carefully constructed logic, the one thing he couldn’t solve.
 the first time he saw you at some hazy phi psi social in undergrad, something in him just…stopped. a whirlwind of wild dark hair with an unapologetic laugh that was too loud for the space but too beautiful to be mad at. you spoke with precision, arguing like someone who had points to make, yet there was a strange charm about you, an effortless grace. he had to have you. he assumed that bringing you to maryland for holiday break would be overwhelming, that the sheer volume of his family would cause you to tone yourself down. instead, they welcomed you as one of their own, perhaps because your bold opinions and high standards mirrored theirs. but that was a lifetime ago – before the pandemic, the accident, the surgery. before everything splintered into what it is now.
his puffy, purple-ringed and exhausted eyes follow you as you climb back into the warmth, slamming the window shut and shedding your coat. resting his elbows on his knees, he brought his hands to drag down his face with a deep, weary sigh, letting them fall to his denim-clad thighs with a slap. motioning you over to him with a nod of the head.
brass casings littered the floor, the bed a mess of neon monopoly bills - scattered in the dingy sheets like confetti after some great gatsby party. you’d been holed up in that room for a week now, and his restless energy was palpable. it wasn’t like his stress was something you’d never seen before. in fact, it was normal after all these years. but this. this was a different level. completely enrapturing, not only mental, but physical.
 you slip off your shoes with a soft thud on the floor. your steps are slow, deliberate, as you meander toward him, eyes heavy with sympathy. three sleepless nights had made his face hollow, and he’d refused every pill you’d offered – hydros, oxys, anything to subside the pain. you stand in front of him, positioned between his spread legs. his hands reach to meet your plush hips, each digit pressing firmly into your skin, grounding himself in your presence.
when al pacino said the eyes never lie, he was completely correct. luigi’s were sullen, dark, angry. pleading for help, for recognition. you lift a hand to cradle his cheek, tracing over the stubble that wasn’t there when you left hawaii. wordlessly, you sink to your knees on the warped wood of the hotel floor, looking up into his big brown eyes. your fingers trace a slow path from the curve of his jaw to the firm plane of his chest, before settling your palm on the denim of his thigh, smoothing it up and down his leg. you tilt your head, letting your temple rest gently against his knee.
“i love you, lu,” you spoke in a near whisper against him, gaze fixed on nothing in particular, thoughts somewhere far away. “i just wish shit was different.”
“i know baby, i know,” he answered without hesitation, cooing down at you and bringing a meticulous hand to brush the mess of hair from your face. “we’ll be back home soon, i jus- i have some stuff to take care of, love, you know that.” his voice softened as he looked down at you, coaxing your glassy eyes up to his steady stare. with a subtle touch, he grabbed your chin between his thumb and index fingers, lifting your face to meet his. only inches way, you felt the heat of his breath on your lips, drinking it in.
“i know this isn’t who you fell in love with, n’ i’m sorry. i-i’m a fucking shell,” he rambled, bobbing his head with each word, eyes darting around each feature on your face.
“this world, me, everything, is a fucking lie.” he spat, “just t-touch me so i know that i’m real.”
his eyes were wide and manic, brow furrowing as if every thought, every word, was a battle being played out behind those unblinking, shifty eyes. your mouth hangs open, and every part of you seems to be falling into him, melting in his touch. your eyes are unfocused and glazed over as they follow his, drunk off the very essence of him.
“fuck me so i know that i’m real. i’ve been dying to know if i am.”
heady puffs of breath fell against your face with each word, his eyes drifting down to your glossy pout. he ran his tongue up the curve of your parted lips, a tiny gasp escaping them, your eyes never leaving his. it was perverted almost, urgent and depraved. without thinking, you curl your tongue out, meeting and circling his without your lips even touching, saliva dripping onto the floor below. his hands grasp at the sides of your head, pulling you in closer as his tongue forces its way past yours, lips crashing together in a heated kiss. he stands you both up with a swift movement, each kiss growing deeper, more consuming, as he guides you backward onto the bed.
you can’t help but whimper into his mouth through the soft, wet smack of your lips that fills the room as he lays you on your back, pinned by the wrist in a pool of pink and orange paper money. hot, hungry kisses trailed down your neck and across your chest, his hands firm as he peeled off your white tank top. your fingers roamed over every inch of him – gripping a handful of curls, your palm finding the small of his neck to pull him closer. softly, your hands slid over the hard lines of his shoulder blades, tracing the muscles beneath his skin. for a split second, it felt like undergrad again – fooling around on that tiny twin bed, stealing kisses between whispered laughs and desperately hoping that none of the boys in the chapter house heard you.
“baby, sit back,” you murmur, craning your neck and biting into your lower lip as he licks spirals into the sensitive skin, sending a chill down your spine. with a smirk, he flips over to settle onto the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the cold metal button of his levi’s and squirming out of them. the print of his length pressed through the thin fabric of his boxers as you hook your fingers in the waistband, tugging them to fall around his ankles. you shimmy out of your leggings and black lace panties, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the hardwood.
letting a stringy drop of spit fall from your lips, you work and twist your hands over him, whimpers and pants making his chest fall and rise, head lolling back as you plant tiny kisses on both thighs. turning around with bent knees, hips between his legs and feet flat on the floor, you sink down onto him inch by inch, whining incoherently as it stretches you out.
his hands on your sides, thumbs running down the valley of your spine, molding you like pottery as he guides you up and down. the tips of your fingers balance on the floor as you gently bounce and roll your hips, stuffing yourself over and over again on his cock.
“f-fuck – mine, all fuckin’ mine,” he spoke breathlessly, watching your drooly hole take him in with little plap plap plap’s, the fat of your ass recoiling as his length disappeared into you. his grip tightened on your sides, and you felt his legs getting wobbly under your stabilizing hand. “my girl, my good fucking girl…” he spoke absently, almost to himself, each syllable dripping with lust. appreciation. worship, even.
“god, fuck – please.” you babble, whipping your hair back to steal a glance at him from over your shoulder – all focused and blissed out, slack-jawed as he groped and pawed at the lower contour of your ass, spreading open the sticky mess and watching with wild, amazed eyes at the way you wet him up.
“what, baby? want it inside? yeah?” he panted out with squeaky desperation, lower stomach tensing and turning as you gripped and slid over him. “wanna get pregnant, huh, the way you’re takin’ it – fuck!”
his thrusts got sloppy, breath hitching in his throat and translating to desperate whines as he pumped you full. even if he didn’t come back tomorrow, if you never saw him alive again, he was determined to leave you with a little permanent piece of him. bringing a strong, warm palm to the small of your lower back to slow down your pace and push you off of him, he fell back onto the bed with a sigh, rattling the bed frame with the impact. ribbons of thick, opalescent seed seeped from your hole, all fucked open and raw.
laying together, swimming in those hotel sheets, the cold touch of fingerprints tracing numbers and letters into your thighs. truly believing you both had nothing to lose, even though that was far from the truth because you had each other. the shrill sound of wind against windows was stomach-churning compared to the familiar crash of the ocean, and you’ve accepted that you’ll probably never see that apartment again. even if you did, it wouldn’t be the same. but, you trusted him. believed in him, his capability, his intelligence. holding onto that tiny sliver of hope that told you everything would be okay, he would be careful, come home unseen and unscathed. those worries were reserved for the future version of you, one that could carry the weight of tomorrow in the daylight. all of it – the pain, the planning, the uncertainty – was beside the point now. all that mattered was the shelter of his lingering touch, quieting the rest of the world, only if for a few more hours.
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jaysng · 9 months ago
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confessing to his mute crush | pjs
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pairing: jay x deaf!reader
genre: complete fluff
summary: jay and deaf reader both seem to like each other, just when he thinks that his confession was a pure failer the reader does something surprising.
“i. hope. i. am. not. late”  jay signed and chuckled as he fixed his cross body bag standing nervously infront of you which got out of place while he was running to the stop you had asked him to be at.
you smile at him, knowing he recently had learned sign language just to be able to communicate with you and so he was, a little slow and not so clear. 
you loved cycling alot, and bought this brand new bicycle and you had asked him if he wanted to spend a day out riding it and then go off to the beach and sit there. 
jay and you met through the same animal care shelter you guys volunteered to work at, his charming smile immediately caught your attention. however it was hard to communicate with your muteness, you only knowing sign language and him knowing none of it.
however within a span of few months, jay started learning it to be able to communicate with you. 
it made your heart flutter, i mean it’s the effort and dedication. still you asked yourself ‘does he even like me back?’
“is. this. the. new. cycle. that. you. bought?”he asked as you nodded and got off it, you touched the cute basket decorated with a small miffy teddy and a pink bow, it also had the dirty wrapper of chocolate you ate earlier. 
embarrassed, you took it out and threw it somewhere on the ground.
“i decorated it” you signed as he looked at you and smiled, making you blush as you looked away, anywhere but his eyes. 
“예쁘다” he said, even though you obviously didn’t hear him you read his lips quickly anyways. signing a quick thank you you sit back on your cycle and signal him to sit. 
he sits behind you hands on your shoulder as you begin to hit the pedal and ride around the city. 
some moments later you feel jay’s hand shifting from your shoulder to your waist now that you’re cycling in a well pace. 
the wind blows on your face blowing your hair back at his face too, you hit the break for a moment and turn around and give him an apologetic look. 
he smiles at you taking your hair and putting them to one side of your shoulder and keeping his chin on the other, staring at you the entire time he does so.
you squirm and try to get used to the feeling of his charp chin on your shoulder as it’s digging through. 
you shove the feeling off as you start riding again, this moment was really perfect for you, everything was so good. a nice cloudy, windy weather with your favorite person  friend hugging you by the waist and face on your shoulder, what a dream really.
you guys rode the cycle around the city, stopping by a store to get ice cream, as you parked your cycle near the store you guys stood on the footpath and he bought some ice cream.
you looked at him to see if he finished his and you caught him staring at you, he pretended to look around and controlled his cheeky smile but then something else caught your attention wired headphones connected to his phone in his pocket.
you grab them and gain his attention as he looks back at you “you like music?” he nodded and took his phone put of the pocket searching for something. 
curiously, you stared as you got closer to see his screen “this. is. my. favorite. song” he signed enthusiastically as you widen your eyes giving him a cheering gesture.
you stopped as you looked at him “i wish i could listen to it.. it must be nice” silence filled the space between both of you as you stared deep into you while smiling “it is.”both of you finished the ice cream before it melted.
after cycling and strolling around the pretty city here you were sitting on the rocks of the beach as the wind blew every once in a while.
jay had this thing forever in his mind, he loved you he loved you so damn much. everything you did got him screaming internally to wife him up.
“it’s fun being with you, you know?” you signed as jay felt his heart racing a million times in a second what could she mean by that? she probably meant as a friend right? or am i letting my stupid thoughts take over. 
“thank. you.” he says as you close your eyes and give him the widest smile. 
being with him made you feel full, it made you feel like finally you had a friend. but you quickly fell in love with him because of his mannerisms.
even though at school no one really bullied you, but there wasn’t something big for someone to  findi you interesting. emptiness fill inside of you, as for others you were just there, not enough things to be interesting for someone. or atleast for the people around you. jay knew these very well that’s why he hated the fact he fell in love with you so fast and was worried that you might reject him because of how fast everything would happen.
but little did he know that your feelings were pretty.. mutual you can say.
there was a wooden stick in your hand with which you were doodling on the beach sand with, jay was observing each and every move.
with that lavender sundress you were wearing it made everything 10 times cuter in his eyes. the way the wind slightly blew back your hair but you kept on fixing it.
you started moving the stick and you wrote your name’s inital with did adding a unfilled heart after it and looked at jay “want to try?” you ask bringing the stick closer to him as he accepts it. 
he looks at you for a second passing you a lovestruck look. 
J +
he writes before your names inital as you shoot him a confusing look with a nervous smile. 
he looks at you as his smile drops, emotions very visible in his eyes. 
=
he adds an equals to sign between your inital and the unfilled heart, following with filling the unfill heart that you drew. 
your smile drops as you stare back at him, completely in shock and he stares back with a regretful look in his eyes. 
you watch him take a big breath after looking at your reaction, not quite promising is it.
“i. like. you.” you sit there, puzzled. you don’t know whether to do something or cry, the moment feels unreal. 
it all felt so quick that you didn’t realise you haven’t responded to him yet for about past five minutes atleast. 
his hopeful looks now dies as he apologizes and stands up, “i am sorry, i am sorry, sorry i should leave i should probably leave.” he says as you try to read his lips “sorry…. should leave” you could pick up some of the words not many because of how rapid and low his mouth worked. 
you watch him stand up quickly wearing his bag not even sparing another glance at you as he starts walking away.
you felt your cheeks getting warm as everythinf starts getting blurry due to the upcoming tears.
you shake and get up dropping your own bag on the floor. 
“stay” 
did i say it right? you swore you heard the vibrations in your body of your own voice. not fully hearing what you said or if you said it right or no. 
breathing heavily, jay stops in his tracks as he turns around and stares at you in disbelief as you break down. right on that spot you were standing at. 
the word wasn’t clear and mix of broken and light cracks of course, a very weak one because of the vocal chords.
you felt bad for making him wait for so long or making his excitement go away for taking your no response as rejection.
you were just shocked, he actually liked you back? your entire life you felt so neglected and behind just because you were deaf, but now some thing good is finally.. happening?
now standing in a distance both of you staring at each other as he watches uncontrollable tears flow down your face as you sign a ‘i like you too.” while lowering your head and start sobbing. 
jay runs back to you and closes the distance, both of you hug like losers. 
because of the closeness you can feel his body vibrations and shivering, as you realise that he is crying you push him back to see his eyes now your eyes widened “why are you crying silly i should be the one crying..”
he just shrugs while trying to give you a smile and crying.
you bring your hands to wipe his tears off as you hold his face. his hands naturally rest on your waist. 
for a short moment you guys look deep into each other’s eyes as you lean in signaling for a kiss.
you felt him giggling like a teenage boy as he leaned in and pressed his soft lips to yours. 
he could taste the strawberry ice cream you ate earlier on your lips, your scent filling his nostrils and working as a hypnosis.
you pull away taking a long breath, “wasn’t it too long for a first kiss?” you sign while wiping away your own tears now and laughing.
once again complete silence fills the beach as the only thing playing if only you could hear, was the sound of the waves. both of you completely lost in each other’s eyes, it was like your eyes are speaking it all for you. 
but you noticed it, you noticed he was holding back a reply so you hit his chest “say it. say what you want to say.”
he broke the eye contact looking away at the sea, the waves coming and hitting the shore as his stupid smile came back on his face. 
he looked back at you and fixed your hair, brought his hands back to himself and signed at you. 
“i. could. kiss. you. for. an. eternity.”
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lipglossanon · 4 months ago
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Deed I Do
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Real Dad Dogman!Leon S. Kennedy x Daughter Puppy!reader (one shot)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, incest, age gap (Leon is late 40’s and reader is late 20’s), hybrids, jealous Leon, short and sweet, dirty talk, grinding, unprotected sex, breeding kink, knotting, creampie
ETA: this was a commission but I’m a dumbass 😭
Kofi commish by @bumpkin-batch
Word count: 1999
title from Deed I Do by Ruth Etting
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Leon stretches, bones and joints popping loudly. 
“Looking forward to that retirement, I’ll bet,” Jill jokes as she passes by him to sit at the desk behind Chris’. 
“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes and stands up from his desk chair. 
He usually works away from Chris’ desk, out on patrol alongside his owner, but after turning 40, they kept him pushing paper and training new pups. This new batch coming in has him excited, although he’d never admit it. It’s the very first litter he sired back when he was in the breeding program decades ago.
“Aww, aren’t they cute!” Rebecca coos as Chris brings in the new lineup of would-be police dogs.
Leon would roll his eyes, but he’s too busy cataloging each of the new pups. There are seven in all—five boys and two girls. Aside from the girl on the end, they’re all stoic and calm. She, on the other hand, keeps letting her emotions get the best of her—tail wagging happily before remembering to stay still. 
Leon has a really good feeling she won’t be cut out for police work. It sends a little pang of worry through his chest, but he squashes it down in favor of watching them. As they’re put through their paces, Leon keeps an eye out on the girl. Just to make sure she does what she’s told. 
Weeks fly by in this new routine. A few of the recruits are turning out not to be fit for police work. The girl is definitely too friendly and useless at trying to apprehend someone breaking the law. Another pup, a boy, is too hyper. He’s already broken through three harnesses and accidentally bit an officer. 
But still, five out of seven new police dogs isn’t anything to sneeze at; Leon’s proud the majority have what it takes, like himself. The boy’s already been adopted by Barry. His two daughters have been begging for a hybrid to play with after school, and with his energy, he’ll be a perfect fit. The girl, on the other hand, is much too sweet and soft. Leon’s been keeping an ear out for what they’re going to do with her. 
He’s taken a liking to the pup; she’s earnest and kind, something he doesn’t get to see every day. She’s started to hang around Chris’ desk with him when the recruits have free time. It could explain why Chris suddenly springs it on him that he’s taking her home at the end of the week. 
“She’s just not going to fit in here,” the dark haired man gestures to the empty office, “and I don’t want her going to a shelter to sit for god knows how long. You two get along, and this way you won’t be home alone when you retire next month.”
Leon scoffs, but secretly he’s extremely pleased about the new situation. His own little girl is getting to stay with him. He can teach her all the things she wouldn’t learn here, especially with him being gone. And she’s so sweet. He’s happy he can spend this time with her and not have to worry about the job. 
Friday rolls around, and you’re a ball of joy. Leon even finds himself smiling at your excited chattering while he leads you out to Chris’ vehicle. You grow quiet on the drive to your new home, but your tail wagging assures Leon that you’re happy. Chris helps you get settled into your new room, right next to Leon, and gives you a quick tour of the house as the dogman follows behind.
There are a few bumps in dealing with a new pup in his space, but Leon wouldn’t change it for anything. He’s looking forward to retirement just that much more. In the meantime, he shows you the ropes. Cuddling, playing, annoying Chris—you guys do it all together. You groom each other too, something Leon finds himself seeking out more and more. Lately, you’ve been smelling downright edible. 
He’s had to excuse himself from your cuddling before he gets too hard to hide it. You’ve also been extra clingy lately, practically gluing yourself to him at every chance you get. Leon calls it quits midweek, and as soon as Chris opens the front door, you’re pressed all along Leon’s side with a wide smile. 
“Congratulations!” You kiss his cheek, and he gets a whiff of something sweet and tart, making his mouth water. 
You usher him into the kitchen and throw out your hands, “Ta-da! I made your favorite!”
Grinning, he ruffles your ears, “Thanks, sweetheart.”
You bite your lip, ducking your head out of shyness, “Thanks, dad. I hope you like it.”
Picking up the fork, Leon takes a bite of the lemon cake. Sweet.. tangy.. soft.. moist. The errant thought that this is what your cunt might be like makes his eyes flutter closed with a groan. 
“It’s good?” Your eyes peer at him, ears perking up. 
“Delicious,” he pats your head, and your tail whips back and forth.
“Chris, you have to try some!” You call out, heading back into the living room. 
Leon takes a few more bites, mouth salivating at the taste. He needs to get his shit together. You bring Chris into the kitchen with you, and Leon watches him shower you with praise over the dessert. You become more and more flustered, and an ugly feeling of jealousy rears its head in his chest. 
“You okay?” 
With a start, Leon blinks, realizing a low growl has been building up in his chest. 
“Yeah, sorry, just thinking about something,” he clears his throat. “Well, I’m beat, so I’m going to take a shower and head to bed.”
“Oh, okay,” your ears droop, and it makes his heart hurt. 
“Did you need me?”
You pick at your nails, “Could we watch a movie together? I’m feeling kinda under the weather.”
Warm satisfaction suffuses him over your asking him and not Chris, “Sure, just meet me in my room once I finish showering.”
“Okay!” You smile brightly and hurry off to your room.
“I’m glad you guys are getting along,” Chris chuckles before stuffing another bite of cake into his mouth. 
“Don’t eat all of it,” Leon points to the dessert, “that’s technically for me.”
“It’s one slice,” Chris rolls his eyes. 
Leon’s nose twitches, and he waves his owner off, heading to the bathroom. After showering, Leon wraps his lower waist with a towel before realizing he didn’t bring a change of clothes. It’s a habit he’ll have to learn to break since you’ve moved in. Sighing to himself, he makes his way to his room, hoping you haven’t come in just yet. 
His hopes are dashed when he sees your wide-eyed look as you lay in bed. His sheets are gonna smell like you, and it makes his cock twitch. Pulling in a deep breath to calm himself, he nearly chokes as your sweet scent floods his nose. He knows he’s looking at you a little too heatedly.
“Sorry, I’ll get dressed.” He finally breaks eye contact and heads to his dresser. 
He throws on an old tee and slips on a pair of sweats under the towel before tossing it in the hamper. You scooch over to make room for him, and as soon as he’s lying back, you’re practically clambering on top of him. You throw one thigh over his legs, the heat of your cunt a hot brand against his leg. Burying your face against his chest, you nuzzle and scent your way up to his neck. 
“Dad,” you whine, “I feel sick.”
“Sick how?” He murmurs, trying to clear the fog in his brain as you subtly grind against him. “Have you been taking your meds?”
You shake your head no, pressing your nose against the pulse in his neck. 
“I ran out. Chris is s’posed to pick them up tomorrow,” you mumble, lips brushing against his skin and raising the hair on his neck. 
“Oh, baby,” he croons, cock chubbing in his sweats. “It’s heat sickness, my sweet pup.”
No wonder you’ve smelled so good lately. He grips your hips and helps you straddle his lap. 
“Take these off,” he snaps the band of your shorts, “gonna make my sweet girl feel better.”
Whimpering, you quickly slip off all your clothes until you’re sitting completely naked on his thighs. He pushes his sweats down just enough to free his hardening cock. 
Your tail thumps against his legs. “Smell so good, dad.”
“So do you, baby,” he helps you sit your chubby pussy on his cock, pressing the thick length against his abs. “Just rub against me.”
Nodding your head, you brace your hands on his forearms as they grip your hips. Whining, your pussy lips part around his cock, and you slowly rut against him, dragging your slick all along his fat dick. 
“That’s it, doing so good giving daddy a pussy job,” he groans, jerking you back and forth as you frot against him. 
Whining, you hump down against his cock, precum and slick smearing across your cunt until there’s a sticky mess between you both. Leon grunts, feeling his knot starting to form at the base of his dick. 
“Fuck, gonna make daddy pop his knot, baby,” he drops his head back as you moan loudly. 
“Want it, please dad, my pussy feels so empty,” you pull away, shiny strings of slick clinging to his cock. 
“Shh, shh,” he runs his palms up your thighs before bringing one hand back down to grip his cock. “I’ll give it to you, but you gotta be quiet for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, biting your lip when Leon slaps his cock against your pudgy clit. 
He uses his thumb to press the head down to guide it into your drooling hole. You both pant and sigh as you slowly sink your cunt down until you're flush with your dad’s hips. Leon’s eyes nearly cross from how tight you are, walls soft and wet as they squeeze his cock.
“So good, fuck, gonna knot you, sweetheart, knot this sweet little pussy,” he growls out, pulling out to shove you down onto the mattress. 
He manhandles you onto your stomach and yanks your hips up before fucking his cock back into you, bottoming out in your squelching heat. He sees you bite down on the pillow to muffle the cry that slips from your mouth. Your pussy flutters and grips his cock tightly, sucking him in until the tip kisses your cervix. Growling low, he roughly pumps his hips, slipping his cock in and out of your perfect pussy. 
“You’re perfect, fucking meant for me,” he leans forward to bite and kiss your neck, “fat pussy a perfect fit for my cock.”
“Dad, dad, feels so good,” you whimper brokenly, “want your knot, want your pups, daddy.”  
“Fuck,” he snarls against your ear, cock pistoning deeper into your greedy hole. “Cum for me, pup, and I’ll knot your wet pussy.”
He reaches underneath you to circle and pinch your swollen clit. You thrash and buck against him, mewling and gasping as he works you closer to your orgasm. His knot catches at your hole, and as soon as your back arches, your pussy cumming around his cock, he shoves his knot past your clenching hole and locks you together. 
“Dad!” You cry out, voice muffled from where you’re pressed into the sheets.
“Ohhh,” he lazily humps your ass, rutting his cock and knot deeper into your cunt, “so good, baby. You did so well for daddy.”
You hum happily, and he nuzzles against your neck, laying you both on your sides so you can rest comfortably.
“I’ll fill you up again later to keep you from getting sick,” he murmurs in your ear and groans when your pussy milks and pulses around his cock. 
“Thanks, dad.”
He smiles and presses a kiss on your hair. He really does have a sweet pup.
638 notes · View notes
ha-rinrin · 2 months ago
Text
The Metal Touch
summary: What begins as intrigue and banter with Jinx quickly turns into something deeper—a mix of fire and vulnerability as her metal touch becomes both comfort and thrill.
Pairing: Jinx x Fem!reader
Wordcount: 6.5k
Authors note: I don't I really feel like I gave her finger justice but oh well, I tried. more fics are on the way guys I just cant stop writing with the new amazing content of season two 😭 also I didn't proof read 3 times, thats what I usually do, so if its bad thats why.
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The dimly lit workshop buzzed quietly with the sound of metal grinding against metal. Jinx tinkered with her mechanical finger, her expression an intense blend of fascination and frustration. Every so often, she muttered something under her breath, adjusting a bolt or tightening a screw, her usual bravado toned down by the meticulousness of her task.
“Almost got it,” she mumbled, her fingers moving with surprising finesse over the intricate mechanisms. Sparks flickered, and you instinctively reached out to brush them away from her, grinning when she looked up with a smirk.
“Afraid I’ll break, toots?” she teased, her eyes glinting with that familiar, playful gleam.
“Not afraid—just making sure my girlfriend stays in one piece,” you reply, nudging her shoulder. “Besides, not everyone has a cybernetic finger to work with.”
Jinx rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Come on, where’s your faith?” she quipped, giving her finger one last twist and holding it up for a test. She flexed it, and to your relief, it worked without a hitch. “See? Perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, for now,” you teased, reaching out to take her hand in yours, feeling the cool metal of her finger against your skin. She didn’t pull away, her gaze softening as you laced your fingers together, careful of the mechanics but not the least bit shy.
She grinned, standing up from her chair and tugging you closer by the hand until your faces were inches apart. “Guess I should thank my pretty assistant, then,” she murmured, her voice low, as her free hand reached up to cup your face.
Your cheeks warmed under her touch, and before you could come up with a clever reply, she closed the gap, kissing you softly yet confidently, Her lips curled into a smile against yours. Your hands found their way to her waist, holding her close
“You make this stuff look easy, you know?” you whispered when you pulled back, catching your breath.
Jinx shrugged, as if it was nothing, but the way she held onto you said otherwise. "I don’t know, you make it easier.”
She kissed you again, and as the machines hummed around you, it felt like, for a moment, the whole world was just the two of you, tucked away in the quiet workshop, right where you belonged.
The workshop seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of you in the dim light and soft whirring of machines. Jinx’s lips brushed yours again, but this time, there was a fierceness that hadn’t been there before—a sense of urgency you felt all the way down to your toes. Her hand, warm and steady, slid to the small of your back, drawing you in closer as the kiss deepened. It was full of all the unsaid words she rarely let show.
You felt her smirk against your lips, her metal finger tracing along your jawline as her other hand tugged you even closer, leaving no space between you. Your heart pounded, and every nerve seemed to come alive under her touch. She broke the kiss only long enough to catch her breath, her gaze dark and heated as she looked at you, her purple eyes blazing in the dim light.
“See? I’m not all that dangerous,” she murmured, her voice low and breathy as her lips found your neck, leaving a trail of heat with every kiss. Her mechanical finger traced up your side, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you couldn’t help but tilt your head, giving her more access as her lips and teeth made quick work of your senses.
You tightened your grip around her, pulling her impossibly closer, losing yourself in the warmth and intensity of her embrace. Her breath was warm against your skin as her hands roamed with an expertise that had you forgetting everything else, her laughter soft and thrilling as she felt your heart racing against hers.
Jinx’s kisses intensified, her lips pressing hungrily against your skin, making your pulse skyrocket. Her metal finger traced down your spine, the coolness a sharp contrast to her warmth, igniting shivers along your skin. Every graze of her mechanic middle finger was electrifying, a reminder of both her strength and the tenderness she only shared with you.
She pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her breathing heavy, her gaze intense. “You don’t mind a little metal, do you?” she teased, a wicked grin flashing across her lips as she lifted her metal finger to gently hold your chin, her thumb brushing over your lips.
You barely had a moment to shake your head before she kissed you again, deeper this time, her mechanical finger trailing up and down your side, their cool touch making you tremble.
 It was as if she knew exactly how much pressure to apply, a calculated intensity that left you breathless. Her hand moved from your chin to your shoulder, holding you firmly in place as her other hand slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt, exploring with a confidence that made your knees weak.
“Feels different, doesn’t it?” she murmured against your lips, her metal finger pressing into your skin, creating a contrast that drove you wild. She leaned in, her mouth brushing your ear as she whispered, “Bet no one else could make you feel like this.”
You couldn’t form a coherent response, too caught up in the heat of her touch and the rhythm of her breathing. She chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as she pressed you back against the workbench, her metal hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, keeping you firmly in place as she kissed you again, her lips urgent and unapologetic.
“See?” she whispered, her voice a low growl. “Told you I wasn’t dangerous… unless you like it that way.”
Her words sent a thrill down your spine, and you gripped her tighter, pulling her close as your lips met hers again in a kiss that was as wild and intense, just as she was, both of you losing yourselves to the heady mix of passion and abandon in the quiet of the workshop, with only the flicker of lights and hum of machinery as witness to the fire between you.
The intensity between you built, filling the workshop with a charged silence that only quickened breaths and the hum of machinery could break. Jinx’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, her touch both familiar and thrilling, and she paused, her eyes meeting yours with a spark of mischief.
“Mind if I make things a little… warmer?” she asked, her lips curving into that wicked smile she wore so well. Her hands, both warm flesh and cool metal, gripped the fabric and, without waiting for your answer, began lifting it. You raised your arms as a sign of permission, letting her pull it off in one smooth motion, and she tossed it aside, her gaze sweeping over you with an unmistakable glint of admiration.
She bit her lip as her fingers trailed over your bare skin, her metal fingertip cold but thrilling as it traced along your collarbone. “Didn’t think I’d get this lucky in the middle of a tune-up,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving you as her other hand went to her own shirt, tugging it over her head with practiced ease. You felt your cheeks heat up, unable to hide your appreciation as her shirt joined yours in a messy pile on the floor.
Before you could catch your breath, she pressed against you, her bare skin warm and firm against yours, her lips finding yours again with a hunger that made your pulse race. Her metal finger found your waist, the sensation sharp and grounding, while her other hand cupped your face, guiding you deeper into the kiss, her mouth capturing yours with a fierceness that felt like it was made for you alone.
You slipped your arms along her sides, savoring her closeness as her breaths mingled with yours, her laughter soft and thrilling. Jinx’s lips moved to your neck, pressing heated kisses along your skin as her fingers traced patterns down your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 
“Still sure you’re up for this?” she teased against your ear, her voice barely more than a whisper, filled with both daring and tenderness, her hands roaming, claiming every inch of skin as if she could never get enough.
“Absolutely,” you whispered back, pulling her in closer as the world outside faded to nothing but the heat between you. And in that moment, there was only the two of you, tangled together in the dim light, lost in each other’s touch and the thrill of being exactly where you wanted to be—right there, in her arms.
Jinx’s fingers explored every inch of your skin with a blend of precision and intensity that sent a shiver through you. Her metal hand rested at your waist, the coolness making each touch more vivid, a thrilling contrast against her warmth. Her other hand traced a line up your spine, pulling you closer until you could feel her heartbeat, fast and strong, mirroring your own.
She leaned in, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you with my new upgrade.” Her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of soft, heated kisses that made you melt under her touch. Her metal hand tightened on your waist, steadying you as your knees went weak, her gaze holding you captive as she grinned, clearly enjoying the effect she had on you.
You slipped your arms around her, fingers tracing the lines of her back, her muscles tensing under your touch. Her mouth returned to yours, this time fiercer, more urgent, as if she was pouring everything she felt into that one kiss. You matched her intensity, letting her press you back against the workbench, your bodies moving together in a perfect rhythm.
Jinx’s metal hand slid up to your side, the cold touch sending a thrill through you, grounding you in the moment even as her other hand moved with care and confidence exploring your breasts. She deepened the kiss, her lips hot against yours, her fingers now tangling in your hair as she held you close. Every touch, every brush of her skin with yours left you breathless and wanting more.
“Guess you’re not so afraid of a little metal after all,” she murmured with a grin, her eyes dark with something deeper, her voice thick with desire.
“Not when it’s you,” you replied, barely able to keep your voice steady, drawing her back to you as the two of you lost yourselves in the electric pull between you.
Jinx’s hands, both flesh and metal, continued their exploration, her fingers tracing patterns that left your skin tingling. Her smile held a daring glint as her hands dipped to your hips, fingers hooking onto the waistband of your jeans. She met your gaze, a mischievous question in her eyes, and when you nodded, she didn’t hesitate.
Slowly, she slid your jeans down, her hands gliding over your thighs as she dropped the fabric to the floor, leaving you exposed to her smoldering gaze. The intensity in her eyes made your pulse race, your breath hitching as she took in every inch of you with a quiet reverence that sent a thrill through you. She stepped back only long enough to tug off her own pants, and when she pressed close again, the feel of her bare skin against yours was intoxicating.
You couldn’t help but pull her closer, wrapping your arms around her as her hands settled on your waist, her metal fingers cool against the heat of your skin, grounding you in the moment. She grinned, her usual playful confidence softened by something deeper as she leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss that left you breathless. Her hands roamed with practiced ease, each touch sending a shiver through you as her mouth moved from your lips to your neck, then lower, to your collarbone, pressing heated kisses along your skin.
The moment you pulled her even closer, the air between you thickened with anticipation. You could feel the heat of her body pressing against yours, the thrum of her heartbeat matching the pulse in your veins.
Her fingers skimmed your waist, sending sparks of sensation wherever they touched. She didn’t rush, taking her time, savoring every second as if she were memorizing the way you felt. Her breath was warm on your neck, sending a delicious tremor through your body.
“God, you’re perfect,” she murmured, voice low and rough, sending an ache through you as her lips found yours again, soft but charged. When you kissed her back, there was a hunger in it—a craving for something deeper. Her tongue met yours, slowly at first, tasting, exploring, before it deepened, pulling you closer as if she couldn’t get enough.
Jinx’s hands glided down your body, her fingertips tracing the curves of your hips before slipping lower to your thighs, igniting a thrill that left you breathless. She paused, her lips hovering as she looked at you, her eyes dark with need, but there was something else there too—something tender, something dangerous in the way she gazed at you.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” she whispered, her voice a heady mix of lust and something raw that made your heart race even faster.
You swallowed, your breath coming faster as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I think I’m starting to get it,” you replied, your voice trembling just slightly, betraying the heat building between you two.
Jinx chuckled, a soft, sultry sound that made you shiver. Her hands moved lower in her gaze that was soft, almost vulnerable, like she was savoring this moment as much as you were. The mix of tenderness and hunger in her eyes made your heart race even more than before, if that’s even possible. She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You sure you're ready for this?"
You nodded, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, "More than ever." The words hung in the air between you, a promise you were both eager to fulfill.
Without another word, Jinx’s hands slid lower, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, sending a wave of heat through your body. She paused again, looking up at you, her gaze seeking permission. You met her eyes, steady and sure, and without hesitation, she leaned in to kiss you again, her lips pressing against yours with a desperation that spoke louder than words.
Her fingers, both warm and cool, massaged your bundle of nerves, her touch a perfect blend of confidence and care, even when she pushed them in you, allowing a loud moan to escape your mouth. As she explored you, your senses heightened, each soft caress sending ripples of pleasure through you. You gripped her waist, pulling her closer as the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you locked in this moment of raw, unfiltered connection.
Every movement, every touch, felt like a dance, a rhythm you both knew instinctively. Jinx’s lips trailed down your neck, her kisses slow and deliberate, each one sending a wave of heat straight to your core, your hips bucking and sweet nosies leaving your mouth. 
She smiled against your skin, a wicked grin that made your pulse spike with anticipation. "I love it when you lose control," she murmured, her lips brushing your ear. "Makes me want to take it even further."
You gasped, your body instinctively arching toward hers, urging her on. Her name slipped from your lips in a breathless moan, and that was all the encouragement she needed. her fingers exploring deeper, hitting all the right spots, the mix of warm and cold from her metallic finger inside you made your legs feel like jelly.
Her fingers pushed deeper, and a soft gasp escaped your lips. The combination of her warmth and the sensation of her touch sent a wave of pleasure coursing through you, making your pulse race. Jinx didn’t stop, her movements steady and confident as she sought to draw you even closer to the edge. Her lips parted from your neck, her breath warm and uneven against your skin as she whispered, “You feel incredible.”
The connection between you both electric. She took her time, making sure every moment was felt, every touch adding to the growing intensity between you. Her name escaped your lips once more, barely a breath, and it seemed to spur her on.
Jinx’s eyes met yours, a dark spark of something mischievous in them. “You’re mine,” she murmured, her voice low, sending another shiver down your spine. Her fingers moved with purpose, hitting places you hadn’t even known you craved.
You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, caught somewhere between pleasure and disbelief. “Always,” you managed, your voice thick with need.
The world outside the bubble you shared faded completely, leaving only the two of you, entwined in each other’s presence, moving together in perfect synchrony.
Jinx paused for a moment, her breath ragged as she took in the intensity of the moment, her gaze never leaving yours. Without a word, she lifted you up, her hands gently helping you to sit on top of the workbench.
You felt the cold metal against your ass as she sat you on it, pushing your legs apart so you were perfectly positioned, one of her hands steady as she helped you get comfortable while the other one continues its thrusting, sending a shiver through your body.
Jinx bent a little so that her mouth was right besides your ear, her breath fanning over your skin as she leaned in, her lips brushing your earlobe. "This feels like the perfect spot," she whispered, her voice low and teasing as she pressed herself against you. Her tits meeting yours, the heat of her body undeniable as she took her place between your legs.
"Perfect," she repeated, her lips brushing against your ear as she nipped at the lobe, her fingers working at your hole, sending jolts of electricity through you. "I’ve got you exactly where I want you," she murmured, the palm of her hand massaging your clit.
You could barely catch your breath, every movement of hers driving you crazy with desire. You wanted more—wanted all of her. And Jinx was more than ready to give it to you.
Her lips twitched into a grin as she saw the look on your face, her fingers still dancing against you, pressing you deeper into the moment. “Can’t get enough, huh?” she teased, her voice a low murmur, full of playful arrogance. She shifted her weight slightly, the motion making your body heat up in ways you didn’t know were possible.
The air between you thickened with anticipation, each passing second feeling like an eternity. Jinx’s mechanical hand moved with a fluidity you couldn’t ignore. She paused, giving you a look that was equal parts teasing and uncertain, before slowly pressing her palm against your clit with her fingers still deep inside you.
Everything went still, a moment suspended in silence. Then you felt it—a faint hum, a vibration that seemed to travel from her finger, right into your core. It wasn't just a mechanical shift; it felt like the world’s pulse, steady, and in sync with the beat of your own racing heart.
She smirked, watching your reaction. “How’s that feel?” Her voice was low, filled with something dangerous and playful as her gaze flicked from your face to where her hand lingered.
the vibration echoed through your body, intensifying with each slight movement of her hand, a sensation so intense it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t hold back a soft gasp, your breath hitching as the sensation became more than just a touch—it felt almost electric, like it was pulling at every nerve in your body.
Jinx’s smirk deepened at your reaction, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Like it?” she asked, her voice dropping lower, almost a growl as she leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear once again.
You nodded, your body trembling as it arched toward her, a silent plea for more. The vibrations surged again, sending a wave of heat coursing through you, pooling in your lower stomach, igniting something wild inside you. Your fingers curled into the edge of the workbench, your knuckles white as you gripped it, trying to steady yourself.
“It’s... it’s amazing,” you breathed out, your voice trembling with the intensity of it. You met her gaze, eyes wide with desire, your lips parted, whimpers coming out of your throat as the hum of her hand against your skin grew more pronounced, each pulse pressing deeper into you.
Jinx’s grin deepened, her eyes glinting as she reveled in the effect her touch had on you. “I thought you'd like that,” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. She moved her palm slightly, adjusting her touch, allowing the vibrations to increase in speed, pushing you further into the moment.
The feeling was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. It wasn’t just physical—it was sensory, every inch of your skin acutely aware of the vibrations, the heat of her body pressed against yours. You were lost in it, every pulse, every movement of her mechanical finger drawing you closer to the edge, both mentally and physically.
Her lips were close now, just a whisper away from your neck as she whispered, “Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen.”
“Please,I want the more- FUCK!” you couldn't even finish your sentence before her ministrations became more frantic, the vibration growing harder and faster.
You couldn’t help the way your body reacted as the vibrations became more intense, the hum of her mechanical hand resonating deep within you. It was as if she’d tuned into something inside you, something raw and primal that made it hard to think, let alone speak. Your breath hitched again as the sensation surged, sending a rush of heat coursing through you, you let out laud moans to escape your throat.
Jinx’s eyes never left yours, her smirk widening with satisfaction. She could feel your body respond, could see the way you shifted beneath her, wanting more, needing more.
"Is that what you wanted?" she whispered, her voice low, teasing, yet filled with that dangerous edge. "Tell me, what exactly do you need?" Her mechanical fingers tightened slightly, pressing deeper, as if testing your limits.
At first, you couldn’t speak—your chest heaving with every shaky moan, your body caught between pleasure and need. But eventually, you managed to get the words out, your voice trembling, raw with desire.
"More," you gasped, barely able to keep your voice steady. "Please, Jinx... more."
Her eyes flickered with something mischievous, a spark of delight that only made the tension in the room thicker. With a swift, fluid motion, she leaned in closer, whispered again, her breath hot on your skin.
“Desperate, huh? I like that,” she murmured, voice low and playful, words sending a shiver down your spine. She paused, letting the moment hang in the air, her hand still pressing against you, the vibrations now steady but undeniable.
She could tell you were on the edge, and she reveled in it, enjoying the control she had over the situation, over you. But, with a shift in her posture, she moved slightly away from you, breaking the connection just enough to allow you to catch your breath.
"Now," Jinx purred, her eyes glinting with mischief as she leaned back, giving you that signature, dangerous grin. "Tell me again. What do you want?"
You struggled to steady your breathing, her words lingering in the air, making your heart race even faster. The weight of her gaze felt like it was pulling you in, making your skin burn, every nerve alive with anticipation. She was waiting, holding you at the edge, giving you no choice but to beg for more.
"I... I need you," you whispered, your voice barely audible, shaky with the intensity of it all. "Please, Jinx, I can’t take it anymore. I need you... every part of you,” you breathed, the words barely leaving your lips, heavy with desire
Her eyes glinted, a predatory smile creeping onto her lips as she leaned in again, close enough that you could feel the heat of her breath against your face. “That’s what I like to hear,” she murmured, her voice low and silky, the words wrapped in the promise of something dangerous.
Her mechanical hand shifted again, pressing deeper, the hum intensifying as it surged through you, each pulse igniting every nerve in your body, like it was seeping into your very bones. The pressure of her hand against your skin felt almost unbearable, but you didn’t want her to stop. You needed more.
"You’re mine now, you’ve always been mine" Jinx whispered in your ear, her voice thick with both satisfaction and something darker, something that made your pulse quicken even further. She pulled back just slightly, enough to watch you, her eyes dark and full of mischief. “Tell me what you want me to do next,” she purred, her fingers still sending jolts of electricity through your body.
Your body was already aching, the need for her so overwhelming that it was all you could think about. Every part of you screamed for release, for connection. But Jinx wasn’t giving you any space to breathe, and you didn’t want it any other way.
“More,” you gasped again, your voice thick with need. “I need you... right now.”
A low, throaty laugh escaped her lips, and she leaned back in with a smile that made your heart race. "You’ll get what you need... but on my terms."
Jinx’s smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with something dangerously playful as she hovered above you. She could feel the way your body trembled beneath her touch, the way your breath quickened with each passing second. It was as if she had you exactly where she wanted—teetering on the edge, desperate for more.
“You’re so eager,” she murmured, her lips brushing lightly against yours before pulling away just enough to look into your eyes. Her thumb grazed over you clit, sending another rush of heat coursing through every nerve. “I like it.”
Her fingers shifted, the vibrations quickening, more insistent, yet her thumb stayed still. You gasped, your back arching involuntarily, as the heat inside you grew even more unbearable.
“Jinx, please,” you breathed, your voice a mixture of frustration and need. You couldn’t think of anything else anymore, the world reduced to the feeling of her hand, the pulse of her touch, and the hunger for more of her.
She leaned in closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “Patience, toots. You’ll get it... but first, I want to hear you beg for it.”
A shiver ran through you at the sound of her voice, dark and velvety, as though each word she spoke sent a spark straight to your core. You were trembling now, every muscle tight with anticipation.
“Please,” you repeated, your voice shaking, unable to form anything coherent beyond that desperate plea. You didn’t care anymore—this was all you wanted, and you’d do anything to make her give it to you.
Jinx’s breath hitched at your surrender, and she pulled back just enough to get a good look at you—face flushed, eyes wide with desire, lips parted in need. “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” she purred, her voice dripping with both affection and something much darker. “But you still haven’t told me exactly what you want.”
There was a brief, agonizing moment of stillness as her hand paused, the hum dying down just slightly, making you ache for more.
“I want you, Jinx,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I need you to make me feel... everything.”
Jinx’s eyes flashed with triumph, and she leaned down to kiss you deeply, her lips demanding, as if she was finally giving what you both needed. As she deepened the kiss, her thumb started to move slowly, moving your clitoris in circles, sending waves of electricity through your body once again.
The moment Jinx’s lips met yours, the world outside seemed to fade away. Everything was consumed by the intensity of her touch, the warmth of her body pressing against you. It was like a spark igniting a wildfire, every nerve in your body lighting up with the need for more.
Her lips were fierce and demanding, claiming you with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was messy, full of urgency—her teeth grazing your lower lip as she pulled you closer, her body flush against yours.
But even as she deepened the kiss, she kept her hand where it was, the hum of the vibration slowly building, and her thumb brushing over your clit sending ripples of heat throughout your entire body. It was maddening how much you wanted her, how she had you wound so tight, barely holding it together.
Her breath came in quick, uneven gasps as she pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. She studied you with that dangerous, teasing grin, her lips swollen from the kiss, her chest rising and falling with every breath. 
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her gaze on you, the heat from her touch radiating through your body. But you needed more.
“Don’t tease me, Jinx,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “I want you... now.”
Her smirk only grew wider at your words, and she leaned in again, her lips brushing your lips as she whispered, “You’ve got me. Just remember, you asked for this.”
And with that, she moved her hand again, the vibrations increasing, sending an intense pulse through you that made your breath catch, her thumb moving faster and harder. You gasped, your hands finding purchase on her hips, gripping her desperately as your body arched towards her.
“You’re so responsive,” she murmured, her voice teasing as her lips traced down your neck, leaving a trail of heat. “I could make you beg for more, but I think you’re ready, aren’t you?”
Your fingers gripped her tightly, the vibrations becoming nearly unbearable, tightening the anticipation in your chest. Every nerve in your body was alive, begging for release. The desire in your eyes mirrored the hunger in hers as you nodded, breathless, unable to form anything else.
“I’m ready,” you whispered.
And just like that, Jinx moved again, every single movement intensified, pushing you toward the edge, both of you lost in the moment, in the desire that was palpable between you. 
Her rhythm quickened, every movement sending you spiraling closer until, with a shuddering breath, the pleasure crested, overwhelming you. A cry escaped as your body tightened, lost in wave after wave, pulse racing as Jinx’s touch lingered, grounding you even as the world blurred around.
Your body trembled, small aftershocks rippling through you as you struggled to catch your breath. Jinx’s hand remained steady, grounding you in the haze, her thumb tracing gentle circles that sent tiny jolts of lingering pleasure through you. She watched you, a satisfied grin on her lips, clearly enjoying the way your body reacted to every subtle touch. Even as the intensity faded, your skin remained sensitive, every brush of her fingers drawing out little shivers, keeping you tethered to the sensation long after the peak had passed.
The world slowly came back into focus as Jinx pulled away slowly, her eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. Her touch lingered, leaving a hum in your body, each breath feeling heavier. Her fingers stayed still, a faint, steady pulse mirroring the beat of your heart.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence hanging thick and warm between you. Jinx’s breath was slow, almost unsteady, and you could feel the faint tremble in her fingertips as she picked them out, leaving you breathless and still wanting more. She slipped her fingers into her mouth, slowly drawing them out to trace light patterns across your skin. It was as if she was waiting for you to catch your breath, or perhaps for the moment to settle—either way, you could feel the weight of everything unspoken, the lingering heat of the connection you’d shared.
Her eyes softened, the usual mischief replaced with something quieter, more vulnerable. “You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now, softer than before. It was a rare moment of care from someone who often lived in the chaos.
You nodded, the intensity of the moment still settling in your chest, and you took a slow, deep breath. The touch of her hand felt grounding, like an anchor that kept you from floating too far away. “Yeah, just... catching up,” you whispered, unable to fully explain the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest.
Jinx gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile, the kind that only she could pull off—teasing, but also a little fond, a little more tender. She didn’t move away, her body still close to yours, her fingers lingering on your skin as if she wasn’t ready to break the connection entirely.
She leaned in, her forehead resting against yours for a brief moment, just enough for you to feel the warmth of her skin, the steady rise and fall of her chest against yours. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing you like this,” she murmured, her lips grazing your ear. There was no arrogance in her tone, only a quiet truth.
You smiled softly, your fingers lightly brushing the edge of her jaw. “I think I could say the same.”
And for a while, there was nothing else but the quiet, the two of you wrapped up in each other’s presence. No rush, no urgency—just the softness of the aftermath. The kind of peace that only followed something that felt as real and raw as what you’d just shared.
The air between you both was thick with a new kind of tension, one that felt softer but still undeniably electric. Jinx’s fingers lazily traced patterns on your skin, her touch light but knowing. She could sense the undercurrent of desire that still simmered beneath the calm. The intensity had faded, but that connection was still there, like an unspoken promise.
Her lips brushed against your ear again, this time with a lightness that made your skin tingle. "You sure you’re okay?" she asked, her voice low, almost playful, but there was something deeper in her gaze. “I mean... I’m pretty good at this.”
You could hear the teasing note in her voice, but there was something more to it—a quiet challenge in her words that made your heart race, just like it had when this whole thing started. She shifted slightly, her body pressing closer to yours again, her breath warm against your skin.
“I’m more than okay,” you whispered back, your lips curling into a smile as you met her gaze, knowing exactly where this was heading. “But... I think I’m ready for round two, if you are.”
Jinx’s eyes darkened slightly, that familiar glint returning with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. Her lips parted in a grin, the mischievous spark reigniting, but it was softer now, more controlled. “Round two, huh?” she murmured, her fingers tracing a line down your arm before resting at your waist. “You’re sure you’re not just saying that because I know exactly what you want?”
You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise in your chest, your body reacting to her presence, her words, the closeness. “I want you,” you said, your voice low and steady, a hint of challenge in it now too.
Her grin widened, her eyes tracing your face with a predatory curiosity, as if studying every part of you. "Well then..." She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours, her hand sliding down to your waist, pulling you in as she deepened the kiss, slow and deliberate this time. The warmth of her body pressed against yours once more, the vibrations from her hand a steady hum beneath your skin, just enough to tease and tempt.
But this time, it wasn’t just about urgency. There was something more in her touch—a slow burn, a promise of more to come. She pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her expression both confident and a little softer than usual. “You’ve got me. And if you think you’re ready for more... I’m more than happy to oblige.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication, as her hand rested lightly on your hip, her thumb gently stroking the sensitive skin there. The fire was reigniting, but now it was a steady, controlled burn that left you wanting more.
“Let’s see how much you can handle,” she whispered, her voice a hushed promise, as she pressed her lips to your neck, and you both dove right back into it—closer, deeper, with that undeniable chemistry still crackling between you
The room was quiet now, save for the sound of your breathing, slow and steady. Jinx’s fingers trailed over your skin, her touch almost reverent, as if savoring the moment. Her lips brushed the edge of your ear, soft but with an underlying tension that you could feel deep in your chest.
"Didn't think you'd be this responsive," she murmured, voice low, a touch of surprise in her tone.
You turned your head, meeting her gaze, your fingers lightly grazing her wrist, urging her to stay close. "I told you," you whispered, "I want more."
Her smile was small but knowing, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes. She leaned down to kiss you again, not as frantic as before, but deeper, lingering. Her hand moved from your side, slowly threading into your hair, holding you gently as she deepened the kiss, as if testing the waters for what came next.
When she pulled back, just enough to look at you, the look in her eyes was different. There was no teasing now, just something raw, almost protective. "You’re not gonna get away so easily," she said softly, her voice carrying that same dangerous edge, but there was a tenderness to it now.
You felt the heat rise between you both again, and even though you both needed a breath, you could sense that the hunger wasn’t quite finished—it was only changing shape. Her fingers traced the curve of your jaw, her lips pressing against your forehead in a sweet, gentle kiss.
For a moment, it felt like everything had calmed, but it wasn’t over. The space between you still buzzed with energy, something unspoken lingering there.
"I’m not going anywhere," you said, your voice steady but thick with desire. "And I don’t think you are, either."
Jinx gave a soft laugh, but it was full of promise. "You know me too well," she replied, her smile now a slow, deliberate curve. “Get comfortable, toots... this isn’t over.”
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steddiealltheway · 1 year ago
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When Eddie gets excited, he gets a bit overwhelmed. At least, that’s what Steve has noticed, with the way Eddie has to take a quick running lap, bounce up and down, etc. whenever he gets too happy.
Steve secretly thinks it’s adorable and tries his best to induce these little happy zoomies.
It doesn’t take much. Sometimes it’s just a small compliment such as, “That shirt looks nice on you,” that has Eddie bouncing on his heels and fidgeting with his rings with a smile on his face. Sometimes, Steve tries to notice something new like when Eddie trims his bangs or paints his nails, that makes Eddie flush red and mumble, “Yeah, I did,” before taking a quick walk around Family Video before making his way back to him.
This time, Steve isn’t really trying to get a reaction out of Eddie who is angrily storming around the break room of Family Video after Steve had seen his face upon entering the store and ushered him to the back.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Eddie mutters out, running a hand over his face. Steve sits back quietly, letting Eddie go on a little rant. “He said, we were allowed to have the basement for our campaign. All of it. Then, Ted Wheeler in all his glory suddenly says that we’re too loud, and we can’t do the campaign at their house anymore. I mean… it’s one more session! He could’ve sat in that damn recliner and shut him mouth for one more session! Fuck.”
Eddie groans dramatically and sits on the ground, head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do. It’s summer so we don’t have access to the school. And I can’t risk breaking in and having them take away my well earned diploma. Plus, my trailer is too small, and no one else has the privacy of Mike’s basement. We’re done for!”
Steve shrugs, seeing a clear answer to the problem. “You can do it at my house. My parents are never home, and I can stay in my room for as long as you need.”
Eddie’s head snaps up. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, not really sure why he’s so shocked.
Eddie stands up quickly. “You’re positive you can deal with all the Hellfire members in your house?”
Steve nods. “I’ll even buy you guys pizza if you want.”
“Buy us pizza…” Eddie mumbles under his breath in disbelief. “Steve Harrington, are you granting me permission to use your house for Hellfire Club meaning hours of us yelling maybe even late into the night while we play our nerdy game?”
Steve nods and shrugs again. “Yeah. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Not that big of a deal?” Eddie repeats, once again in disbelief. He slightly smiles. “We’re going to be able to complete the campaign.” He bounces on his heels excitedly. “We’re going to complete the campaign!” He runs up to Steve and hugs him tightly, jumping up and down, successfully jostling a laughing Steve in his arms. “We have a place to complete the campaign!!”
Eddie puts him down and pulls back with a big smiles. “Thank you! Seriously thank you. This means so much I could just-”
Before Steve can react, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing his mouth against his in an enthusiastic kiss.
Eddie pulls back quickly and puts his hands over his mouth in horror. “Oh my gosh. I’m so- fuck. I’m so fucking sorry. I just got uh…”
Steve waves him off as Eddie backs as far away from him as possible. “You just got excited. It’s okay.”
It’s okay as it can be considering that Steve really wants to kiss Eddie again although he’s not sure what that really means. But suddenly the urge to make Eddie happy makes a whole lot of sense.
Shit. Okay. He can work with this.
He glances up at Eddie who looks petrified in fear. “I just got excited…” he whispers out.
Steve slowly makes his way to him and puts his hands on his shoulders. “It’s okay, Eddie. Really. I uh, enjoyed it.”
“You enjoyed it?” Eddie echoes uncertainly.
“Yes. But if it was just an excitement thing, I understand.”
Eddie breathes out, “And what if it was more than an excitement thing?”
Steve takes a step further into Eddie’s space and tilts his head. “Then I’d ask if I could kiss you.”
Eddie swallows harshly and leans forward. “It was definitely more than an excitement thing.”
Steve smiles softly and asks, “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” Eddie says, slipping his hands into Steve’s hair as he moves forward again.
This time, Steve knows to respond, moving his lips against Eddie’s gently before tracing his tongue against the seam of his lips, exploring the inside of his mouth when Eddie lets him in.
When Steve reluctantly pulls away from the kiss to check on Eddie, he gets a quick nip to the lip.
Eddie flushes red. “So, I sometimes bite when I’m happy.”
Steve leans in again and whispers against his lips, “Thank god I’m into that.”
And he’s going to make sure to learn all the ways to elicit these responses from Eddie, but first, he’s going to learn all the ways Eddie likes to be kissed.
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charliemwrites · 1 year ago
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In this 1fur1 au….may I raise you wolf!price? The dog/man basically struts right into your home out of the woods and immediately takes his place as pack leader. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be the one giving orders, price is in charge now.
You want to get off the couch and away from the mass of cuddles? Absolutely not. Price will be giving you a look so domineering you are sitting right back down no questions asked. He has you well trained ;)
The others don’t seem to mind the new addition either, making way for a new top dog. Price is quiet and doesn’t cause trouble, but if you’re late home be prepared to face his doggy wrath
Okay, so I love this concept, but I’m gonna raise you one - and write a new part for it.
(Don’t worry, Gaz is coming soon. This ask just really spoke to me lol).
This is also a part 1 — part 2 coming soon.
Three fuck-off sized wolf dogs is a lot. Like, a lot. There’s the fur, the food, the playtime. And then just the sheer clinginess. You’ve always thought of yourself as a dog person, that they just naturally are drawn to you because you tend to be quiet and respectful of boundaries.
Your boys though. They’re something else. Johnny was the easiest of the three to acclimate to your household. When it was just the two of you, bonding and learning him was easy. Whoever had him first had already done a lot of the work training him. And he naturally seems to like girls better so.
Ghost was more difficult. Clearly some trauma there, and a more wolfy-attitude towards humans. Primarily that he doesn’t seem to understand (or agree with) dumb pet things like harnesses, collars, and about 50% of the commands you give him unless you use your Serious Voice. He’s gotten less stingy with affection as time has gone on and his trust in you has grown.
Helped in part, you think, by learning his personality and behaviors. He’s a creature of strict habit. Likes his routines. Likes his space even more; you’ve always been respectful when he wanders off to another room, or when he climbs off the couch to lay nearby but not with you. You never mind, just call that you love him and leave him be.
Konig has been your biggest challenge so far. A lot of trauma there. And possibly a naturally shy personality; though it’s so hard to tell after everything he’s clearly been through. He’s been improving steadily each day, little by little. He’s sweet as can be, affectionate and snuggly when you manage to get him to join you and the others. The least aggressive with men when you take them for walks.
You’re lucky, the boys are so well-behaved — dislike of men notwithstanding. Scary dog privilege is a true blessing when you live alone, with no close neighbors, and right next to the woods. And they are so ridiculously sweet with you at least.
Still, they can be a lot. Any one of them is nearly the size of you, when all three of them decide to act up, it’s overwhelming.
Johnny will starting howling, pissed that Ghost has pinned him again. Ghost will start barking and grumbling - presumably trying to shut him up. And then Konig will insert himself, whining and tapping his feet, trying to break them up, you think.
Sometimes they’ll knock it off on their own, and Ghost will sneeze, shake off, and everyone will come to sit with you. But sometimes…
“Boys!”
You wade in between them, get a hold of Ghost’s scruff and push him off with your thigh against his muscular shoulder. Nearly trip over Johnny as he tries to scramble up and get at Ghost, crying and growling at the same time somehow. You curse as Konig bumps into you, nearly makes you fall over Ghost, who backs up with his nose scrunched up like he’s gonna bite.
Which is about the time you’ve had enough.
“Boys!” There’s a blessed beat of silence. “Outside, now!”
Johnny charges for the door, barking over his shoulder at ghost, who is quick to follow. Konig is slightly slower, head ducked like he knows he’s being part of the problem.
You groan with relief as they pile outside, all three immediately getting into another tussle. They’ve been keyed up the last three days no matter what you do and today seems to be the day it’s finally boiling over. You just wish it was on a day that the yard isn’t wet with mud.
Well then. You drop onto the porch steps and run your hands down your face, sighing. Best to let them stay out as long as possible — try to make bath time a little easier, at least.
You hear nails on the wood next to you, a little squeak, a snort. Figuring it’s one of the boys, you reach a hand without looking and tangle your fingers in their scruff. Pause because… that does not feel like any of your boys.
No way.
You pick your head up, turn slowly. And yup, there’s a dog you’ve never seen before. Another weird wolf one. Not as big as Konig at least. Closer to Ghost’s size — and actually similar in coloration. Cream and tan, with sharp blue eyes, a funny pattern along his cheeks and jaw that looks a bit like a beard.
“What in the…” you breathe, “is there some kind of doggy magnet on this house or something?”
You creep your fingers up his neck and around to his chin, give him a little scritch before he tilts his head to sniff at your wrist.
“Hi, handsome,” you coo, “oof.”
You hurry to prop yourself up as he shoves his muzzle into your stomach, nuzzling up under your shirt. You squeak at the cold, wet nose on your skin — and then again he licks at your ribs.
“Alright, alright,” you huff, shoving at his chest.
He backs up, though not far, ears perked forward and eyes bright. You stare back at him for a second, then sigh and do your due diligence, searching for a collar or microchip. He waits patiently until you’re done, then stands and shakes himself off.
You arch an eyebrow as he barks twice. All three of your boys stop, heads jerking up and turning to the two of you on the porch. Another bark and your little pack comes trotting back. When Johnny tries to nip at Ghost’s haunch, the new dog rumbles low in his chest. And to your shock, Johnny falls in line and slinks inside.
“Huh,” you say.
The mystery pup sneaks a kiss to your cheek before following the others inside. When you just sit there for a second, staring, he twists to look at your over his shoulder and gives you a little “boof.”
You laugh. “Bossy bastard.” And follow them in.
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