#i don’t know what else they could be though
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BABYLON
m reader x sana // 26k words
Almighty hand to God, there had been much, much worse situations to get yourself stuck in.
If there’s any sort of consolation to fall back on, you’d wish that you’d say something earlier, call this off with a simple push and shove on the way out the door, close it and wrap up nicely with no worry filling your mind.
It’s not that easy, though.
Never was to begin with.
Not when you have the lights off in your study, the sound of laughs downstairs surrounding the dining table, really fucked how you’ve hidden away from everyone else - also wanting to at the same time because all of them would have the same thread of thoughts running through their head if they saw you at the front of your desk with another body pressed towards you.
“Don’t get so worked up,” Sana tells you, lips fast across your neck while her singular hand is well deep into the grip of your shaft. You could feel her breath slip through the opening when her lips are back on yours, the taste of her is already addicting the more she leans, a hand in her hair trying to give more, fighting, but losing drastically.
What you give, Sana takes. That’s usually how it works in most cases like these with her. You can’t stop, you won’t stop. It’s already difficult to break away once she’s lowering your inhibitions without the use of alcohol.
“Maybe I should deal with you right now instead of later,” you tell her, hiding the smallest hint of worry when your hands find Sana’s hips. She’s proud of the sigh she lets out against your mouth when pulling away before you’re quick to drag her back in. “Let the whole world below know of the things you’re doing to me right now?”
You won’t stop giving in, because Sana gets you. Just like that.
“Have them screaming in shock when you bend me over the desk fucking me?” Sana asks, a tempting offer above a whisper at that. It also doesn’t help that she’s giggling at the thought of you doing exactly what she proposes. “Sounds hot,” she says, huskily, “because I know you would.”
This was never supposed to happen. Hell, this was the last thing you expected to happen. All of the possibilities in repercussions start flowing through your head again because this was definitely not the first time you’ve surrendered yourself to Sana’s advances, nor that you didn't want to.
She’s like quick sand, pulling you from underneath into the catacombs of temptations that would have Satan himself impressed if he could see you right now. Or how this woman at her fingertips is breaking down every last bit of rational support running through your brain just so that she can draw out the rasps of desperation to get her screaming, shuddering.
You could lower the flag and raise up the drawbridges - it’s so easy to do. She’s playing all of her cards right, knowing that your hand would never stack up against hers.
Forget calling a bluff in this house of cards, since the only play you have in your book is to fold.
–
You see, the events that happened before the wildfire were relatively tame.
Nothing but wins coming left and right in the avenue of your life. Speaking of avenues, there’s this newly acquired house (all thanks to your surprisingly good credit score) alongside this block that has a new occupant–
“Babe, the place is amazing!” Dahyun exclaims out, arms around your neck once you and her finally make it past the front porch, taking in the high ceilings and matte layout of the new space. All of this wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the countless days and hours of work to achieve this milestone. You’ll be proud of yourself for settling down while others may be working for bigger goals and ambitions.
(A minor correction: two new occupants.)
The house itself is in a nice area. Not too far from the city, in a pretty well modest community, alongside the hills. Detailing is pretty modern: four bedrooms, three bathrooms, two stories, kitchen was renovated before signing off the lease, ideas for rooms themselves are already drafting from Dahyun’s pinterest board. Knowing that your wife has some good taste, it wasn’t worth deliberating over. You’ve gone through the gauntlet of places in different areas: beachside, close by to your cousins, one was also about a two hour trip away from the city, there’s also this high rise apartment that would’ve been a perfect choice though it never happens.
There’s some scattered boxes here and there still, but most of the things are already in place from the whole moving process. Aside from all the heavy lifting and not wanting to stain the ring on your finger from the dust and oil when the truck broke down on one of four trips, the beauty of being able to be grounded by the tune of Dahyun’s laughs and witty banter when you’re trying to catalog and take inventory of the things that will be kept and what’s going up for the garage sale you plan to have within the next week or so.
“I’m just glad that we finally got it over with.” You put her down, eyes overseeing the view past the spacious living room, as well as the boardwalk-esque deck housing the pool right outside. “Absolute hell trying to get the final documents signed, but finally.”
“I’m so proud of you honey,” Dahyun tells you, hand to your cheek with the most reassuring look that she’s known for giving in your times of crisis. “Had I known that we’d actually get the house after almost signing off on the last place with Jeongyeon–”
“Our luck was pretty much cut out for us,” you amend, though she’s not thinking of the ‘what could’ve been’ - since the here and now was all that mattered to Dahyun. You wanted this, and she did too. The agreement was not hard to fight over; sights were set, end of discussion.
“We should give our credit to Jeongyeon for referring us to this place,” Dahyun starts again, trailing off with hands behind her back, chin up when she walks in deeper. Her gaze turns back to you, leaning on the pillar when you’re staring up at the intricate set of lights hanging over the couch. “Didn’t you say this listing was about to be taken down at the last minute?”
“Almost,” you answer, hugging Dahyun again with your nose in her hair, “Gladly got the call as soon as I found out.”
Dahyun twists around, arms circling her waist, pulling her closer under your touch. She’s happy, giddy when the tip of your nose is nuzzling hers for a quick second. Cliché, corny even, but you’re in love and she’s in love - something that the new home will be more filled with for years to come.
“Shouldn’t we empty out the rest of the remaining boxes?” you ask her, hands curling inward on the small of her back, leaning in slowly for the softness of her fingertips across your face, the plushness of her lips on yours.
This was a brand new start, a turn of the page in the livelihood of things, one act onto the next.
–
Here’s the thing about new beginnings, most of these aspects are supposed to be taken in a positive light.
Most of the time.
The subject of change itself is frightening, can make someone anxious at times because of the uncertainty of how things would play from here on out. Naturally, it’s normal for human beings to feel like this - this daunting notion in being uncomfortable because of this collective notion of ‘being stuck in the past’ or ‘to relive the glory days’. Nostalgia is believed to be one of the great unsaid drugs that everyone takes unknowingly without even realizing it.
Luckily, you’re not facing things alone around these parts of life now.
Kim ‘the introverted but somewhat still a social butterfly’ Dahyun has this effect on others that makes her extremely likable. Hell, if it weren’t for that characteristic, the ring on her finger wouldn’t have been there in the first place. She just has this quintessential quirk of just being able to click with others like it's nothing, almost as if she’s known someone she’s just met for more than five years.
It’s an art in itself to admire, a playlist of clips in your mind that you’ll keep replaying over and over whenever the instance occurs.
You’re willing to be a people person while she does it effortlessly.
Not even a week after getting settled in, Dahyun was already getting acquainted with the nearby neighbors opposite and adjacent to your place while you’re busy getting the groceries in (since one or two trips are always the priority for the efficiency of less work.)
If you’re looking at your new house from the street and inwards, the home on your left is owned by Jihyo. She’s lovely, adventurous, mostly in and out of the house on a daily basis. You lean an ear into the conversation while Dahyun’s getting her small garden going that Jihyo was also a pilates coach, the hint taken with the amount of lululemon products she wears and has in her closet in the brief exchanges of hello’s and head nods. In the next house over to the right, there was Chaeyoung’s place. Dahyun tells you over dinner a few nights ago that Chaeyoung is this underground indie artist that’s hardly home because of her tour scheduling and the fact that she’s in London for her Europe leg on the calendar, but was home for a quick break since her brother just came back from the mandatory military service.
“You know, when I first looked into this cul de sac, I didn’t expect to live next to a considerable amount of celebrities.” you say, tending to the raw set of patties spread across the grill while the backyard of your house was transformed to this small, homey, kickback-style of a housewarming party with nearly everyone invited along the street. “Too early to say I’ve hit the jackpot?”
“Please,” Jihyo starts, the cup of bourbon in her hand swirling while the smoke is up in the air, “I think you think too highly of this community a lot.”
“Everyone has something special going on around here, which is nice.”
“A silent observer,” she murmurs at you, “Dahyun likes that about you, the ability to read people. You could honestly pass that as your hidden talent.”
“I may not be a people person like her, but if the conversation persists–”
“He has no problem slotting himself into it like it’s nothing.” Dahyun says over your shoulder, arm snaking your middle while she’s pressing a kiss into the blend of your shirt while you’re flipping burgers on the clock. “The best at it too.”
Even through the shades of your glasses, you lean over with Dahyun scooching to your left. A white bucket hat is all you see through the lens that’s shielding the top of her head with the monochrome scheme she has with her dress and shirt. Simplicity at its finest with the way she swipes your drink for a quick clink with Jihyo’s before downing it after.
There’s this mix of food and drinks being dished out, there’s a lot of simple activities spread out across the yard. Some people are in the pool with White Claws on the cupholders of the floaties, another group is playing spikeball that one of them brought over for more variety with the hoop on the outer rim of the boardwalk, the set table for beer pong, and essentially some others that were scribbled off the shopping list.
You’re weaving in and out of different groups throughout the houseparty - the role of being the host of the party really shows with the amount of times you’ve checked in with everyone in the span of ten to fifteen minutes. It’s all in good graces really, to set a solid first impression while the ambience really sets everyone into a mood. Cooling down once the sunset hits, and all of a sudden the influx of drinks being passed around might be mistaken as a frat party.
Aside from the inquiries of passing more drinks, you’ve noticed the stigma that’s seeping through the guest’s faces when you’re indulging in conversations, a hierarchy of sorts. And when they see you get cozy in the seat, that’s when the questions occur.
Mina, the person living in the house on the opposite side of your street asks: so what’s your daytime occupation, if you don’t mind me asking?
Quick on the draw, you answer: Currently working in data science from the comforts of my home. Oh, and I also dabble with a little bit of history to a minor stance.
“The world doesn’t thank enough people who aren’t willing to move for a charitable cause.” Her tone is nonchalant, almost flat. That simple black dress she’s wearing, the outline of her figure that may look unreal at first glance, the way her leg is folded on top that signifies that she’s all class, a tilt of her head that has you leaning back ever so slightly. “Are you this some sort of- house husband then? Given the way you’ve been tending to us around the party so far?”
“God no,” you answer, hand up in defense while you’re casually leaning for the unattended cup of Lager that was brought in by Jihyo’s fling? Booty call? Friend with some benefit? It wouldn’t matter since he’s athletic enough to have his own chain of gyms as a fine investment. “Call me a clean freak, but I get by with my duties around the new place.”
“What does Dahyun do again?” Lisa, another neighbor just a few houses down chimes in, “You said that she’s–”
“A corporate lawyer,” you say, catching Dahyun in your peripheral view who’s laughing with another guest that seemed to just make their way into the late afternoon. Hand to the back of your head while racking it, “She’s pretty damn good at her job too.”
You get a collective nod from the two women when you keep your mouth partly open with a tongue nicking the inside of your bottom lip. Logistically, Dahyun was a key counterpart in her firm, the way that she’s her bosses’ right hand when it comes to finishing off deals whether the fact it came down to mergers or closing cases. She’s always one to speak her mind, not willing to play nice or by the book.
Generally, a lawyer’s job tends to be stressful at times, given the unhealthy hours depending on what lands on her desk first thing when she walks in, early or not. If Dahyun needs some downtime, you’d give it to her - something about it that she coined you to be her sleeping pill.
(Kinda funny, though.)
However, there was this whole ordeal of some big litigation incident with one of the firm’s associated parties. Something about the high ranking chairman and close member convicted of fraud and if the press found out about it, the whole door gets blown up and it turns into an absolute shit show. Dahyun’s boss had her spearhead the whole thing and as a big token of appreciation, she managed to get time off.
The apartment prior was starting to get a little bit cramped, so she brought up the idea of moving while eating out for lunch one afternoon and that was that.
Explains how the house acquisition was more simple to deal with, considering how you’re good with numbers and finances, but that’s all to know.
Tech savvy, is what Mina tells you, taking out of it with a margarita in her hand while you raise your cup in acknowledgement, breaking away from the set of couches around the makeshift bonfire pit. Ever the sentry, unintentional but it’s what a good party host does to get to know new faces, right?
Like the ping pong ball on the table, you’re bouncing around the backyard again, avoiding the splash zone of the pool when you slide across the makeshift bar of different varieties of drinks off to the right of the sliding door, cups riddled both half full and empty that’ll have to be dealt with eventually later, or in the next morning - whichever one happens first. A frame of mind falls into the same habit, picking up the clutter for a bit before you could treat yourself to another choice of booze or wine you’ll fish out of the kitchen once done.
Nothing would prepare you for the extra set of small hands swooping in the table to keep tight on the slack.
She seems familiar, not long term familiar, but something that you’ve caught yourself having a double take at for a quick second only to forget a couple seconds later. A quick spike of the heartbeat, that’s also something that you’re very torn on in that moment - running back a necessary subroutine in your memory banks to check that you’re - well, you.
“I take you’re the guy Dahyun was praising about.” she says, her voice cheery with that simple but sly smile of hers that’s stabbing daggers into your heart. “Find it hard to believe that you’re her husband, actually.”
The solo cups slide in smoothly, placing it back in the respective stack while this girl is tending to the crushed water bottles and cans in that small plastic bag she’s putting them in. A small contribution at that, but a helpful gesture that you’ll indirectly accept once the plastic is tied and in the bin.
“And what are you trying to say?” you start, arm bearing your hand when you stand square across from her. “Was it everything that you hoped to expect?”
Unbuttoned baseball jersey, those high top sneakers and short shorts giving a slight peek into her figure from the down up. Her tank top also raised enough to show her toned midsection that looks tapered and detailed. Casual, you think, perfect for the summer vibe that you could honestly put a lei over her neck and all of a sudden this party is a fucking luau.
“Hon!” a voice calls out to you in the distance, approaching you and the girl from the other side of the yard. When that person gets closer, it turns out to be Dahyun who immediately grins at the sight of you looking all curious. “Oh! Good, I’ve managed to get you two both together.”
“But you didn’t do anything.”
“Who said that I was the one to start it?”
“Coming from the person who’s all for taking the credit for herself.”
“Always the pleaser,” the girl laughs out loud, Dahyun closing in with her fingers intertwining with hers. There’s history to them - not even a second thought to track back, it’s all there right in front of you to see. It also clicks in your head that this girl was also the same one that Dahyun was gleefully excited to see back in your sit-in with Mina and Lisa.
The exchange of happy glances abruptly stops when Dahyun catches you with an arched brow, looking for answers, and to this she just smiles downward because how could she forget with the formalities, it’s silly. “Babe, I’d like you to meet Minatozaki Sana, one of my closest friends since college.”
“Sana,” you say, and when the syllables reverberate past the oral cavity and into the air, it rolls off the tongue nicely. “I see, friend of Dahyun’s?”
“Indeed I am,” she says, extending her hand as a peaceful offering - not even realizing the turmoil that’s running through your head while hiding it effortlessly. The way her hand fits in yours, her whole body looks delicate like she’s handmade with God’s well crafted time; she’s also a few inches taller than Dahyun (by two for the accurate calculation), you’ve got Dahyun to mold into the threads of the mattress and now imagine–
“I was wondering who was getting Dahyun a bit excited at the gate when you came in,” you say as you’re pouring yourself another cup of brandy this time, since the other drinks were relatively tame for your high alcohol tolerance. “Now with a face to the name, I gotta say, you’re pretty likable already.”
Bottom line, it’s really curious to act this way. Clearly, you’re smiling at the fact that she’s standing there with her arms crossed, you’ve placed your cup down filling the next one, because another wouldn’t hurt.
So how did you and Dahyun meet, you say - palm flat on the foldable table that sends the drinks sloshing slightly at the change in stable weight. I would assume that the story in itself is an interesting one, I hope?
Sana and Dahyun have this exchanging look between the two of them, the infatuation of how their minds are interlinked. These two have been through everything, despite the differences in majors and fields of work - the bond that they have is admirable. “What do you know about me that Dahyun has told you?”
“Whatever that wasn't ordinary already,” you reply. “What also boggles my mind is that–”
“If she told you about the time I almost had to blow my professor to give me a passing grade, she’s dead wrong. It never happened.” That star-stricken grin that has you pouting slightly and rolling your eyes because her answer has you completely way off of left field.
Not that, you add on but-hmm it can only make you wonder of the kinds of things that happened in that period of youth, before Dahyun came along into your life albeit a simple nudge of the shoulder while passing between working schedules. A part of the script of life that’s rewritten in itself and jesus - it’ll sit in the comfy nook of your brain while it sends your heart and gut flipping in all directions.
Let that be a new doc or spreadsheet for you to graph out in your mind, because there’s a lot to compute and learn into getting this right.
–
So it actually turns out that Sana’s the next door neighbor living on the left of your house. She just wasn’t there during the whole moving process before the housewarming party because like Mina, Sana was out and about seeing the world - something about putting some miles in her life trying to cross off one or two things off the bucket list, maybe more.
There’s only some noticeable details to keep track of in a few:
* Said somewhere along the lines of having a fear of heights? Lost a bet to her cousin and went skydiving to get over it.
* Well-spoken, considering that she was in Dahyun’s undergrad cohort before she had a change of heart in her choice of major, leading towards the pipeline of communication studies or working with kids, cute.
* She’s an only child in the family and very accepting of the fact of having a big house to herself (since Juile, her housemate who was also paying for half of the place but hardly around to live inside and still depositing the rent when it was time). Lonely, one might say out of sympathy but that would be undermining her success till now.
* Oh, and that story of her blowing her professor to get a passing grade? Hard to believe how it’s true and very similar to a common storyline you’ve surfed incognito on the internet before.
“Look,” and she says this with a whole hearted laugh when you’re behind her and Dahyun walking out of the side gate. “It was only a one time thing, I swear and plus,” you’re having flash of doubt when Dahyun looks over, and you’re terrible at hiding it because it’s in your eyes, a shake of the head in disbelief when Sana’s shoulders slouch, “we were sophomores that hated that fuckass professor so much, I was willing to take the fall.”
“And you did, but thank god there’s no proof of documentation that recounts such events like those, right? Right?”
A prompting cough deviates the ongoing conversation, “I assume that everything was handled then?” To this, Sana nods - right hand swearing under oath, smiling earnestly with those eyes of hers, left hand supporting her elbow. She’s distracting with how her tank top peeks out with her chest open slightly. In the court of law, she could never get away with testifying let alone convince the grand jury. “I mean, what would happen if there was something that’s sizable enough to damage your image of being this good-willed human being?”
“Then everyone would watch the world burn if that were the true, but I’m cautious of my digital footprint, always making sure that my track record is clean.”
(She’s in the same pedigree as Mina, Lisa, and pretty much everyone that’s occupying the boulevard: poised, casual, stable, know themselves all too well to get what they want - because they always do, it’ll have your head turning from the moment they walk in to when they leave the table. Dahyun gave you the brief rundown about her circle of friends; they’re good people, not wanting to let the finer things of life get to them, stay true to their words, grounded even.)
It’s how the amber light of your garage door shines above that gives Sana this radiating shade of copper in her hair. You’d offer to walk her back to her place if it wasn’t just a few steps away. Better yet, Dahyun would’ve permitted you to do so if you were to ask right now, but it’s fine. The grace period of life works in mysterious ways, funny how this sense of nostalgia comes back when you see two lovely girls play the game of catch-up, hugging after not seeing each other for a couple years.
Tuning back in to the image:
“I’m baffled you’ve managed to land a house like this, especially with your money and the amount of back breaking work you do on a daily basis. Twenty trials? You’re a fucking workaholic.”
The pair of them laugh together, it’s really heartwarming to listen.
Still,
“-plus the extended vacation time you just got-” Sana sounds like a kid on the last days of school trying to come up with a multitude of things to waste time while Dahyun just listens to her rambling; eyes curving up with stupid smiles and the head tilts as if the secrets being exchanged are not meant to be spoken of to others, they look good together, wow. Have we checked the calendar if it’s Pride month still?
When they turn toward you, the actions seem unreal to register. Dahyun’s monolids contrast Sana’s double eyelids, the way Sana’s eyes especially look almond like. Her smile is a little smaller compared to Dahyun’s and when they’re just freely cuddling each other without any spite of jealousy beneath it.
They’re leaving you dumbfounded, consider yourself to be humbled.
Sana breaks the hug first before she lets out an overreaching hand for you to shake. You’ll admit on another given day to Dahyun that Sana’s pretty, the small pull hinting at her smile all the more reason to give a positive outlook for first impressions that will also have you wondering how in the hell isn’t she in a relationship yet. Overkill when she does the line with her eyes while keeping the same smile when mirroring Dahyun’s expression, too.
“Same number as always?” Dahyun asks, clinging onto her hand like she’s going away for a sizable amount of time. “I got nothing for the next couple of weeks.”
“I’ll just walk over and ring the doorbell, don’t bother.” Sana’s answer is optimistic, and you’re hoping she’ll stick to her word because you’re willing to break the lines, the yellow tape at the scene, and ignore the lines of ink blacked out for confidentiality assurance.
You and Dahyun say good night, and she’s just happily bouncing along the sidewalk into her own front yard.
“She likes you, by the way.” Dahyun tells you, slotting herself right underneath your right arm while you’re squinting to see absolutely nothing in the darkness, not even tuned in to what your wife was telling you. A few sweeps of looks across the street pass and you’re rubbing warmth on her shoulder, only to nudge your head slightly to finally hear.
“Sana’s…interesting.” you say, blinking, looking down at Dahyun’s gaze before your eyes shoot away scouring for something else to eye at in the short meantime before a light slap to the stomach sends you snorting out of the quick annoyance. “Hey, based on how she acted, I would’ve thought she’d be anything but ordinary.”
“She’s done some stupid shit, that’s for sure.” Dahyun signs to her own admission, seeing it first hand of the stories that were told an hour ago. “Though, she’s gotten better once I convinced her to see things in a different perspective.”
“Could’ve passed as a good lawyer if you asked me.”
“Please tell me that’s satirical.”
“Wasn’t planning to say, but I guess it just happened.”
A close of the gate and up the steps into the front door, easy to say that getting yourself settled in for once in your life doesn’t seem to be that bad of an idea. The plans themselves are just getting started, drawing them up on the itinerary sometime later this week will get a number of things going.
–
Apparently nobody saw this coming, and let this be an error in the calculations because evidently, this whole ‘summer in the hamptons’ type thing was about to be undermined entirely.
Turns out on the following day, Dahyun gets this business call at around three in the morning, and the phone just keeps vibrating on the nightstand. She eventually lets you off slumbering with the lamp on while she goes to the couch to hear what her boss was egging on about for what you think would be a short call, but it wasn’t.
What you eventually find out hours later is that Dahyun was called in to help play defense in this big lawsuit that was deemed to be ‘the second coming of the Watergate Scandal’. God, those news anchors and journalists need to do a better job of nailing the creative writing aspect because it was just fucking awful when they’re reporting it at eight in the morning after. Apparently you’re also reading an article online on your desktop about Dahyun’s firm coming under fire for a sizable client that’s been doing murky deals behind their backs that would not only jeopardize one branch of the corporate relationship, but all the potential deals that have yet to be signed. It’s a mess. Though, work shouldn’t even be the thought since Dahyun’s pulling out all of these boxes that were related to this case out all over the dining room table that she has to bring back to her office and whatever was on the menu for the boat party next week that you’re having with close family and friends was about to be canceled.
And this has happened on many occasions, but if it involved Dahyun or anything related to the law firm she holds dearly to her heart (of course, you’re first, obviously) the support in her endeavor would always be important to protect.
“I just hoped that they were able to handle this quietly, and without my help.” You’re dipping your head down to spit the last taste of mint from your mouth. Dahyun leans forward on the sink with her ankles crossed, wearing one of your shirts blinking dutifully, quite zoned out while her hand is over your hamstring, tapping it gingerly.
“Well if that were the case, then they would’ve called you in anyway.” You say, raising an eyebrow with the tinge of mouthwash cycling in and out when you spit again. “So much for having your rewarded vacation time.”
Dahyun leans back against the mirror when she’s putting her hair up in this messy bun. She looks a little more relaxed compared to the ragged breaths down your ear when your cock was buried inside her, clinging to your neck while that vicious upstroke of your hips sends her absolutely blown out. The look she gives with her pleading eyes when you take the toothbrush out of her mouth, washing it after she leans over to spit out the toothpaste before handing a washcloth for you to wipe yourself with. “You think I shouldn’t go.”
“Wasn’t really bringing that up for you to consider, but judging how this looks from the outside in, I’d say it’s pretty bad.”
“You’re really not helping my train of thought here,” she sighs, hands bearing her waist, the crinkles of your shirt on her subtly showing that petite frame, the image itself recorded in your memory banks loads of times - each one just like the first, if not better.
Sliding over a few inches to where she sits there idly, your hands placed on the outer rim where her knees bend over the marble counter. She doesn’t change her posture when you’re looking her in the eyes trying to get a read on what her next move might be. Still elegant as ever, Dahyun will always put this appearance on even when it's the simple domestic life she’s living.
Energy levels are still high, and the initial action was to get back to watching this sappy rom-com kdrama that bored Dahyun to the point where she slipped a hand inside your sweatpants just to ‘spice things up a bit’. Once the prompted question of are you still watching appears on the screen after minutes of inactivity, no point in answering it while she’s happily fucking herself over you while you’re sprawled across the satin sheets, gripping into her perfect waist with the sound of her hips with yours bouncing off the new walls.
When’s the flight? You ask her, hand sliding up her thigh slowly. I could put in a word for your associate to get that done, save the trouble. Inevitably, the jaws of justice will soon swallow her up again when she manages to break free from the shackles of court orders and depositions.
“First thing at nine,” she answers, fingers tugging at the midpoint of where the seam of your shirt and the waistband of your sweats meet. “Got some things to pack up soon, but I think most of the papers and boxes won’t be a lot for me to carry on the quick plane trip back.”
“Crazy that they get paid for a short flight from upstate.”
“In addition to the fact that they’re also on my dad’s payroll.”
“A plus I might admit.” you muse.
Dahyun shifts her gaze from right to left, spreading her legs wider when you scoot her hips up to meet yours. The hum of satisfaction that she gives when your eyes flick up to see that rosy shade of pink plastered across her face, eyes waiting, honing on something that she subjects that will be given to her. Precision was one of her key strengths, but when that’s used against her, it’s a completely different story.
When she tugs a little bit more on your undershirt to lift, she usually does so with this sense of security - like a kind of clinginess that you won’t have any sort of complaint against. You’ve understood it to a degree. Whether you’re dropping by the office of the firm or being dragged into the kitchen after sitting on your chair for hours and hours doing analytics and business calls, moments like these with Dahyun are always something to behold. Considerably, you don’t mind giving into her needs for attention; in fact, you’re willing to do that without even thinking twice.
“So,” Dahyun prompts with this sultry voice of hers, clueless and innocently - as if she has no idea what she’s doing to you. With her (your) shirt rumpled all over her body, those pretty eyelashes, her creamy thighs, the way that her fingers are grazing the elastic of both your sweats and boxers, you begin to assess the conditions when you’ve nestled yourself in between her knees, some water staining the gray cotton when you finally lean closer. “How are you gonna handle yourself while I’m gone?”
“I think you’ll lay the severance package,” you say, not giving any faltering sense when she’s ghosting her set of fingertips on the right hand across your chest. “If there’s damages to it, I don’t mind paying up.”
“Non-compete or NDA,” Dahyun huffs, lifting the outer seam of the shirt past her hips, showing the opening underneath where her pussy is glistening with her slick, awaiting your end of the bargain, this non-verbal agreement where she knows that you’ll always deliver the requests and offers. “Besides, you still owe me.”
Laughing, you do recall the statement. It’s funny - there’s a trade off throughout the day earlier where you’re awoken to her warm mouth, deepthroating your cock that leaves you with these sharp inhales. The way her jaw slacks of how she sucks, the mix of spit lathering all over your length while she’s bobbing away between your thighs at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. Even after Dahyun takes care of the morning wood situation, you pay her back by eating her pussy freely on the kitchen counter as the logical option to keep yourselves occupied while waiting for the oatmeal. There’s no competition between the two of you of who makes the other cum the fastest, the hardest, let alone how many rounds can you do in a day; it really just boils down to this one simple look, a push-pull that sends the neurons firing away automatically - fucking each other ‘just because’ to put it simply.
This girl on the bathroom sink, slouching, head against the mirror still while your hands finally snake under her shirt, feeling the unbelievable midsection under the breasts when she lowers her eyes, leaning up for the touch of your lips.
Every kiss, stolen or prolonged, each one always has the flaps in your heart opening. She’s yours.
Tender at first, but then the heat gets raised up when her arm hooks onto your waist, fighting the slipping tongue that’s breaking away for a slight second in her mouth. Her hands are also grasping for any kind of reach for her to clutch on, no luck for it when she finally takes her fingers into your hair, not wanting to pull away.
Dahyun does this little whine after the quick inhale of air when you slip a finger or two inside her bare cunt, testing the waters as she bites her lip in anticipation. “Don’t do that now,” she spits. That obscene noise coming out of her instantly after when she bucks her hips forward again, accidentally curling a finger in her warm cunt that makes her look away from your intense gaze. “Darling, please–”
“Use your words honey,” you whisper against her lips when you’re tugging on her bottom lip, causing her to sit up straight on the counter, slotting her arms around your neck with hands circling her waist. “Can’t really hear what you’re saying if you’re mopping my face up.”
She’s losing her sense of focus when your fingers continue to bottom out the whole length of them, filling her up and pushing deeper. It also doesn’t help when your thumb presses flat on her clit that sends her mewling at the bend. Her face is against your neck, the steady pace of those staggered breaths against your skin keeps your current operation on the clock, unraveling this line when you’re slipping in and out of her.
“Baby, baby, baby, please–” her heel locks the back of your thigh in place, hitting a kneecap on the cabinet. She’s reduced to these simple words and responses with the heavy breathing. Her hips are nearly coming off the glassy surface of the sink. The shirt’s lifted up beneath her perky mounds (and that fucking underboob is a national treasure in itself), the seal of your mouth is all over her throat: pulling, kissing, gnawing. You kinda feel bad for the concealer pack she’s gonna be using later for a brief afterthought.
Although this little contest of edging Dahyun out to cum wasn’t on the cards for tonight. You’re managing this smile when she pulls the hair tie out of her hair, letting it flow freely. This look of post-sex yet natural style that she does makes you stare in awe when you pull her hips more out at the edge, the way her elbows are propped up nicely and her legs are spread even wider. Her hand pulls the shirt higher, showing her breasts now, the preferred choice of marks that were left there as a reminder from earlier. You slip out of the sweatpants and boxers, fixed on the brushing of her bare cunt just millimeters away from dipping yourself - a teasing tip, then the first couple inches at the half - and that shudder from her hips catches you off guard.
“Yes,” Dahyun moans out that matches your sigh in perfect timing. A moment’s hesitation, replaced with the second necessary action to sink yourself into her more, parting her walls nicely, slowly, until you feel all of her wrapped around you.
She gasps, mewling, spilling out this chain of hitched breaths, “god. honey, your cock–”
It all slides out for a second. Unreal. Then you slam back into her again. Pacing was always the methodical approach, a line into the protocol when Dahyun is writhing in the drag of your cock fucking deep into her cunt, she’s biting her lip at the fact that she’s shimming her legs more out, wanting to choke herself down the length. My god, you’d love to keep the look she has on her face, lips parted at how badly she just wants you to split her in two, seeing the last hint of her pupils rolling back into her brain when you skate the palms of your hands across her stomach, clutching onto her perky breast when the tempo starts to increase.
When your hands finally nestle into the curve of her hips, they stay there. They’re already at a good place when your cock finally feels all of her, so wet, so tight. A slight throb along the length when you drag yourself out, that small pocket of air escaping before the vice seals shut again. She’s unbelievably perfect, one label off the list from your head when you’re fixed on the sight of your length disappearing inside her, head tilting forward with every stroke back in.
“You’re so - mmh,” Dahyun hitches her breath, shuddering, you could feel the rise and fall of her chest when your hand clutches her thigh. A choked out sob leaves her lips, and you’re impressed at the composure of nailing her cunt, the same spot being hit deep, even deeper, to that one area where she’s lost herself before. “Fucking big for me, this cock - feels so good-”
“Dahyun...” you hiss, shifting your hands down to the soft cushion of her ass, sinking down once again, then another, and then another, sliding her out across the counter before you’re driving her back in, this never-ending piston into the fiery pit of heat, stretching her out, twisting that nimble body of hers into your own creation, coaxing every exhale you catch from her abdomen. “Your pussy is so–”
What you meant to say was, “your pussy is so fucking tight, god damnit-” You know what, the thought can barely even be formed in your head when you meet Dahyun’s eyes, slowly fluttering shut with her teeth slowly disappearing behind her lip. That, and the feeling of her walls imploding your cock to the remnants of awareness you had left.
It’s also pretty funny to think how Dahyun was fucking herself freely over you just an hour ago, only for her to be used like this and she knows you simply can’t help yourself.
“Love, I can’t - shit,” that utterance nearly takes everything ouight of you to say; everything about it is euphoric, the way you have her legs up, bottoming her out. You look at her again, and she has her hand over her mouth, trying to fight that natural clench when your cock fills the heat inside her. “You’re so good for me, spreading yourself open like this. Fuck.”
This is a case that you’ll take to your grave, knowing all of your wife’s body so well to the point that every kiss, thrust, moan, hell even the appearance when she’s like this for you will be more than enough to last as much as possible. Dahyun knows the switch off too - aside from the fact that she’s cock drunk every single fucking time you fuck her brains out - and she loves this. You see it in her pupils, the desperation to tear all the edges apart, the signal for you to finally wreck her in the way that she wants you to.
“Don’t stop,” she begs, chest heaving heavily when her legs wrap around your waist, propping herself up for you to take her waist into your chest, letting out these songs of pleas that’s encouraging you to get to that edge first. You could feel her body going limp, the support is almost reflexive while your hips continue to pummel her out.
“You-” you try to say. Fuck. It goes everything against the directive you’ve put yourself in, the noises of your skin clashing with hers, creating this filthy yet harmonious sound that only gets more and more harder. Dahyun’s breathless moans keep you in check when your motions start to get irregular, inconsistent, keeping yourself busy with your mouth all over her chest. “God, Dahyun–”
“Do it baby,” she whispers into the cuff of your ear, “Keep fucking my pussy. Pound me like this.” Her hand does this simple action, and it’s lethal. All it took was a simple palm to your cheek, it’s filled with little meaning but carries so much intimacy. Moans and grunts continue to slip out while you search for her eyes, feeling that pull in your waist, grip tightening and loosening as you’re mindlessly thrusting. “You’re getting close for me, aren’t you?”
“Honey,” and at this point you’ve got it all spun out of control, “You feel so fucking good.”
“I know, baby.” Dahyun ignores your words of affirmation, smirking. “You know what to do.”
God. She can kill you, bring you back to life, and kill you all over again. Begging was already done before, you’ve fucked her way past her orgasm on mulitiple occasions - using her as your cumdump; doesn’t matter what time of the day or what you’re doing. The endgame was always this: having you completely fucked out in that velvety smooth pussy of hers - all wet and warm enough for you to live in.
With your teeth gritting and a final huff of air blowing past your nostrils, you cum inside her, filling her sloppy cunt all the way up.
Dahyun is sinister, it’s not up for a fair debate. When she coos and hums into your ear canal, you’re battling every urge to just wrap your fingers all over the column of her throat, use the remaining bits of pulse in your member to get her screeching. Alas, you hold yourself back while the ropes of cum are spurting around her walls, her mouth also gaping open when the fourth and fifth pulse out your cock weakly.
There’s this pause soon after, a collection of breath between the two of you that constructs a reconsideration of your choices. Dahyun has this telepathic connection with your mind that makes the connection instantaneous - you don’t say anything because there’s this one look in her eyes, hanging in the atmosphere bathed with afterglow - and she knows.
When you do slide out of her swollen cunt, there’s a considerable amount of your cum dripping out of her, slapping the tip along the outside of her folds just to tease her before retreating away entirely. The image of her legs spread out and her back laid across the sink will be saved into your memory for you to look on sometime in the future, or maybe even next week.
“So,” you mutter, shaking off the small jitters of blood loss to the head when you’re massaging Dahyun’s thighs, “Have I paid off my case in due time?”
Dahyun chuckles, a single finger raised up from the wreck beneath to get a taste, licking her lips following the fingertip. She wiggles up on her hands to sit on the counter again, hair flipped to one side while she lets the shirt fall down to cover her body, “Hate to say it, but you always do.”
“That’s good to know.”
“I’m also saying that you could use my help.”
“Ha Ha,”
“What? I’m serious.”
“I’m serious. Well so am I.” Dahyun sarcastically says, slapping your hip that makes your cock jump suddenly. You can see the dashes appear on her face when she lets out this simple smile, the eyes disappearing reflecting the same expression on her lips. She could saunter around the courtroom making a solid case for the defense, but no one would know the fact she’s all liquid putty when you have your hands on her like this. “I appreciate the thoughtful offer, but I think someone’s gotta guard the house while I handle work.”
“I’m gonna hate you by the end of this.”
“How bout you flip me over and rail my ass on the sink again?”
You’re starting to curse that concrete jungle a little more by the end of it.
–
Okay, to cut to the chase, there might’ve been a slight miscalculation that you had panned out in your head.
You switch on the TV two days later and Dahyun’s already made her way back to ground zero in the city to handle this case, where it completely spirals into an absolute shitshow. All gloves are off when the story gets released out to the public, scapegoating one of Dahyun’s board members having themselves tangled in an affair with one of the staff. Sure, it could've been an analytical approach to brush off the heat that’s only growing by the second - a shitty attempt you might also think; either way, this trial was crucial for your wife’s firm to win because in the scenario that they lose, all credibility and positive imagery surrounding them will plummet and that equals no more lawyer work for Dahyun.
She was optimistic at first while on the phone with you, talking about how this case should’ve been a cakewalk to handle, predicting the possible time period of when she should come back home to finally relax with all that hard work paid off temporarily. You’re smiling at the fact that she sounds composed, no hint of stress lying in her tone, riding on that high when you have her bucking into your hips just an hour before her private plane trip to the firm.
It’s only a matter of time before all of this blows over, you think. Not your fault also when the house feels suddenly empty in the wake of this unexpected catastrophe.
You’re hearing this definition of a fortnight. As in, Dahyun’s projected time when she could get out of the office and have someone else handle the case on her behalf. A little unusual for her to indulge in the understanding of the term itself, not while you’re making yourself dinner with the chops of onions on the cutting board and the phone being on speaker off to the right side.
“Two weeks?” you’re asking, the dice of onion cubes being skated off into the pot left to boil while stirring. “That’s a pretty big ask for you to take up with your boss.”
“Why do you think I’m hitting you with the English lesson?”
“Babe, you’re talking about a term that was used in the freaking 1800s.” you laugh, leaning back on the counter, glass of water in your hand as one of the stupid actions that most people tend to do when talking to their crush. “Would’ve been better if you just said two weeks instead of a fortnight. What do you think I am? Some kid that’s withering their life away over some video game?”
“There you go again.” She laughs out loud. You can envision the picture of her rolling her eyes at you when you spew out complete nonsense that won’t comprehend in her brain since her lifestyle doesn’t line up with it.
“Sorry,” you mutter, smirking with a dimple poking out against the touchscreen. “Seriously, when do you think you’re gonna make it back?”
“Honestly, I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon.” she admits, hearing the click of your tongue over the speaker when you’re accepting the fact that her job might potentially be on the line if she were to leave early. “I know we said two weeks, but in this case-” You can hear her stop short when she clears the lump in her throat before continuing, “This trial might drag on for who knows how long? It might be a few days, two weeks, a month? Everything is laid out for us to fail.”
“And you won’t.” you tell her, reminding the positives going forward. “Maybe it could look bad, but I’m certain that you’ll do a good enough job with what you have to work with. I’m sure of that.”
That sigh of relief you hear through the phone. Yeah, you’re right. I get it. A little reassurance goes a long way for someone in her field dealing with that kind of work - not that you would relate or somewhat imagine what it would be like to be in Dahyun’s shoes, but aside from all bad things, you know that she’s headstrong to the point where none of this should even faze her in the first place.
“You know you can’t go back to the old place, dummy.” you laugh, opening the lid of the pot that unleashes a quick cloud of steam rising above the rim. “Where are you planning on staying in the meantime while working?”
“Minju has a guest room at her place.” Dahyun answers, “I’d figured that I should tell you this, but I think she and her associate are having a little thing together.”
“And this is news to me, how?”
“Because I’ve seen him and her get a lot closer than usual.” she adds, “You do remember that we have this policy that’s strict on relationships around the office–”
“But you and I, along with some other considerable names and high-ranking figures, are the exception. I know. We’ve been over this story a bunch of times already.”
Dahyun straightens herself up on the couch over the phone, folding her legs inward on the seat, sighing, smiling. “Are you eating dinner this late?”
“Well, if you consider ten-thirty to be late to have myself a meal, then yeah, you can call that to be a late dinner.”
“Rude,” she muses. “Can’t your wife have a little bit of curiosity about your day while being alone? Missing me?”
“I guess, but there’s nothing to report on my end.”
She hums, and you can picture the pout she’s putting on whenever you give her an open ended answer that could totally be expanded on if you just put the effort into it. Dahyun knows you're lazy to an extent when it’s off work hours, and she doesn’t blame you for that. “Have you been using your hand to keep yourself occupied while I’m gone, baby?”
“Sweetie,” you chuckle, tongue against the inside part of your bottom lip when you automatically realize what she’s trying to do - what she’s trying to make you do. “No, we’re not doing this.”
“Aw, why not?”
“Because I can only do so much to keep myself sane while you’re not here.”
“Fine,” Dahyun sighs out in defeat, and you turn off the stove to let the signature dish of your mother’s pork stew cool down before you get to eating. “One last thing,” she starts, “Sana wants a favor from you while I’m not there.”
“Hmm?” you sound off, getting a small taste test of the minimal viscosity of the soup you just cooked. “What does she need help with?”
“Just some heavy lifting around her place,” Dahyun answers, yawning. “I told her that she could come by the house to get you and help with whatever she needs.”
“You’re setting me up, aren’t you.”
A soft giggle could be heard in the background on Dahyun’s end. It probably shouldn’t mean anything, but a suspicion starts formulating in the back of your head. This could mean one of two things: you’re either fucked for the potential summer, or fucked for the potential summer.
“Help Sana out tomorrow,” Dahyun instructs. “I don’t think anything bad will happen if you’re stuck with her.”
–
Turns out that Dahyun would be right when you do stand at the steps of Sana’s front door, hand at the hip while the few seconds of silence runs the possible uncertainties through your head.
A swing of the door inward: “Howdy stranger, have my pizza?”
You get a good look at her. She’s wearing these thinly rimmed glasses, the middle wire sitting nicely on the bridge of her nose. Her long sleeve hugs her shoulders nicely, tugging at the fabric while her other arm is raised on the door. The shorts are also doing a number on you internally, highlighting the ridiculously long legs that has miles and miles of skin, aside from the fact that they appear to be too short (and also pink, but fuck, man.) Cozy, homebody type of vibe, is what you end off with.
“Hey.” And this comes off as a half-choke in the fumble of words, “Dahyun said that you needed some help?”
Sana cocks her head off to the side, brows attracted inwardly, lost for a second before she fully realizes the present dilemma that she’d had happen to forget. “Oh, I did ask for a few things.”
“Fingers crossed your to-do list isn’t full?”
She does this subtle nod of her head motioning you to come inside, and you hesitate for a second, peering over past her head of brown hair to see the state of the place and here’s how it looks: everything has a very simplistic aesthetic, blank tones of the furnishings and floorboards complimenting each other the more you and her make your ways around the place. Some boxes are still present here and there, half-open, half-closed, like the items in them haven’t found their rightful place amongst the shelves and cupboards and closets between the rooms. Sana mentions also that her and Julie also have similar tastes, but given the fact that they both haven’t been in the place that often because of their work, it’s pretty disappointing to take away.
“How long have you had this house?” you ask, picking up a picture frame off one of the tables in the living room that has Sana and this other gorgeous girl leaning her head in with hers, you can’t put a name to her, but curiosity will come later when the time is right.
“Just like you, not that long actually,” Sana answers, rounding past the corner towards the kitchen when you pick up on the lasting trail of her footsteps to meet her at point B. “Julie and I only managed to settle in about a few weeks ago before she went overseas for some big movie project that she’s a part of. Other than that, it’s just been me here all by myself.”
“That doesn’t sound fun.”
“I find it calming to have a big house with multiple rooms without the sense of company.”
Your eyes trail off in the distance of this closed space. It looks barren, but rich, with the sense of presence from all of the different decorations and paintings all over the walls and tables. You might mistake this as a museum, an unplanned exhibit with your neighbor as the centerpiece of this gallery.
“So,” you start to say, arms cross when you’re watching Sana on the opposite side of the kitchen island, sipping on a glass of strawberry lemonade, looking back at you with wide eyes, those pouty lips on the rim–
She points to the set of disregarded items off to your left side behind, the same set of boxes you noticed when walking in, “I need to get these things out of there and placed around the house,” and she starts to round the area of the kitchen to get closer to you, “and my garage door needs some fixing since it won’t open for some reason”
“You really think I’m qualified to help you with the garage?” you raise an eyebrow in suspicion.
“Dahyun asked you to help me, so please, make us happy.”
–
The first meeting with Sana happens quite quickly. It should’ve ended there - a simple favor fulfilled and get on with continuing the daily routines around the house and neighborhood.
Except it doesn’t happen that way. Not when Sana catches your attention when you’re taking out the trash, watering Dahyun’s little growing garden, when you’re getting your morning and evening runs up the hill and round the block, she always seems to get you caught in her lines of sight.
You’re not against it however, taking a liking to have a quick chat with Sana about different things that were worth bringing up - it’s the simple camradire that’s developed rapidly after the housewarming party. She’s interested to see you with the garage open, finding a new thing to tinker and fix with the car (although modding a tesla would make some vehicle enthusiasts want to rip out their hair and gouge their fucking eyeballs,) she just makes the minute trip from her house over to yours just to talk.
Dahyun’s calls circulate every now and then, getting the quick rundown of what’s been happening while she’s knee-deep in trial work down at the firm. You simply smile while tapping on the camera switch icon on facetime to have her look at the group of Sana, Jihyo and her summer flirt, Mina, along with a few others just have a communal game night of Mario Kart down at Sana’s place when everything is settled in. Before that, you were explaining the fascination of this ancient city that you’ve been reading into between business calls and graph inputs during work that may sound like you’re a boring professor talking about history.
None of that would matter because Sana’s house is like this ancient city that’s riddled with riches and items of materialistic value that would probably convince someone else that their money is being wasted over meaningless items rather than propper investments. You get a few nods of agreement, maybe some fingersnaps because what you’re saying could be plausible with the amount of knowledge you’ve consumed to tell without boring everybody.
“I could care less if that were the case,” Sana says, leaning closer on the couch while running a hand through her hair, the flowy locks combined with that cropped Prada shirt could have you reeling in an alternate universe, but it doesn’t.
“Sana,” you call out, Jihyo’s also giggling at the fact before you even say it also, “your walk in closet is literally the devotion of this ‘city of gold’ I’m talking about.”
“Hey!” and she’s taking this with a light offense, “I only say that it’s true because where else am I supposed to put the dresses?”
“I suppose they could go somewhere else that doesn’t take up space in the racks?”
“You’re the one who helped me put them up anyway!”
“Don’t get all defensive now because I’m talking about it.”
She cracks this smile while Mina sounds off with a ‘boo’ noise, “You can take your little history tangent up your ass then.”
To that, you raise an open bottle of White Owl to her face, downing a bit of the drink while she rolls her eyes, narrowing while she purses her lips. She’s lining her fingers across the bottom of her chin, intuitively, studying the movements of your hands and eyes, getting a read of what makes you tick.
Even after the activities of game night are all wrapped up, you stay behind in Sana’s house, picking up the assortments of empty glasses and bottles, the charcuterie board that’s scavenged through, except the stack of cheese that was apparently stale and too cold to even dig their teeth in.
“Care for some cereal?” Sana prompts after the final sweep.
“You’re asking me to have a night breakfast?”
“You’re making it sound like it’s something to be frowned upon.”
“Then why the paradoxical proposal?”
She doesn’t bother answering that with a simple hum while you’re chuckling lowly. There’s already two bowls on the counter, and not long after, she’s holding out two boxes: Frosted Flakes and Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
“I like the choices.” you tell her, placing yourself on one of the high chairs while Sana slides one of the boxes over with the jug of milk trailing just behind it. You snap a picture of yours and Sana’s bowls to send over to Dahyun and in which she responds in three seconds - you fell for the cereal bait tactic.
What? I got courted with Frosted Flakes and you know this, they’re great.
She did the same thing to me back in college, but that’s her ‘ol reliable’.
Sana swipes your phone from your hand that you try to get back, but she skips a few feet away and starts to text in your place. “What are you texting Dahyun about?”
“Why does it matter to you?”
“That’s my phone you’re using.”
Sana parts her mouth open, humming once, “I’m too lazy to grab mine from the living room.”
“You’re texting my wife.” you deadpan.
“She was mine first before you came along.”
You roll your eyes. Ouch. But you sigh once the defeat settles itself back in over you. All that you’re just left to do is get these soggy, milky grains down before you eventually pack it up for the night.
“Thanks again for staying back to help,” Sana tells you on the front step of her yard, “worth the treat of cereal as a reward.”
“Nice to have some company, especially when there’s video games that make me feel like a careless child again.”
“We’re all a little starved for a little fun, glad I contributed to that reach of youth.”
And this comes out of nowhere, really, you miss Dahyun around the house and it’s felt like ages since you’ve last seen her.
Sana has her knuckles against her cheek, the fingers are well refined, she has that glow on her face and that small hint of a dimple that breaks out underneath and well - that same pout you saw last time breaks into this perfect grin of hers that’s filled with uncut happiness, the way her eyes arch into that same eye smile Dahyun has really makes you think twice about your situation.
It’s embarrassing, but you miss Dahyun while there’s this small crush of Sana growing inside you. Going against your vow might be one thing, but your heart can’t help itself to only tell you over your mind - well shit. Congrats.
Though, she’s reeling you back in after seeing Hailey’s comet above, calling your name that makes you unsure if you even know your own name.
“Will you be busy for the rest of the week?” She prompts.
“You can just come past the gate and ring the doorbell, I’ll always answer.”
Sana doesn’t say anything more than that, only giving you the usual ‘good night’ message before she sends you off on your way, just a few feet to the side and behind another door.
–
Some weeks pass. It’s late, and hot. The combination of this nightly hot climate doesn’t serve anyone well.
You hear a knock at the door that has you scratching your head over the fact on who would be at your front doorstep around this time. All of that gets thrown out the window when you look up past the column of wood to see Sana standing there, bundled up in gray sweats and an oversized sweater that’s draping her frame, two sizes too big, her shoulder noticeable to see. She has nothing else on or with her besides the phone in her hand.
“It’s the middle of the night,” you announce, squinting at the light towering over you and her in the front patio of the house, letting out a sigh while Sana just wiggles her body side to side, acting all innocent knowing that she knows what she’s doing. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping already?”
Sana finds your reactions to be funny. For every question, you give her a simple or calculated answer. A greeting in the morning or afternoon would be short and sweet ending off with ‘let me know if you ever need anything’ before heading back inside with the daily mail or some vacuum or bundle of rags to clean from the garage. Every blurt or sexual comment would send you coughing or spitting out some of your water when Sana’s dropping by to see what you were doing. Most girls other than Dahyun in her position would be automatically disinterested, not your fault for being naturally dry and introverted.
“Julie crashed at Natty’s place, so I managed to drive myself back home.” Sana replies with a pull of her lips, breaking a sly grin when you return the same nod, prompting her to come inside because it wouldn’t be like you to keep a beautiful girl from around the neighborhood just standing outside your doorstep.
The hums that come out of Sana’s mouth are refreshing, in addition to the little swing of her head back and forth when she moves past the first lounge area of your house to between the dining table and kitchen where she stops short for a second, looking off to the left, formulating a thought. You had the lights dimmed around the place, but you catch the silhouette of her side profile while a hand is behind her back, like one of those poses that she did for a magazine not too long ago that she shared when you finished up moving the last bits of her boxes.
“Why come to my place?” you ask, flicking a light switch that brightens the area right outside leading up to the backyard. “Are you that bored around your house that you just walk over to mine?”
“Not denying that I’m bored,” Sana amends, turning towards you again, “just wanted to give you some company.”
“Sana, it’s late.”
“Remind me again,” she pouts, the lift of her eyebrows makes you slightly cringe, “How long has Dahyun been busy with her work and that trial of hers?”
“Last I heard from her was that she’s almost done closing off the settlements.”
“Good, and you haven’t been losing your mind over the fact that your wife’s not with you.”
“Can I live normally while Dahyun gets to play the main breadwinner in the relationship?”
Sana coos after that. She keeps this longing gaze at you while you’re returning the same fix on her. The end point of her nose, the lines of her cheek, that over peeking collarbone when she sweeps her hair from the front to the back with a little flip; you tell her that the downtime you were mainly focused on was trying to get back to sleeping, but the damn heat was the main excuse and to that she laughs, scrunching her face when she can see right through the poorly constructed lie.
It’s distracting, the small rumbling of this breaking desire - makes you feel uncertain in how you should approach the current dwindling situation.
Falling off the curve, however, Sana asks you: “Do you mind if I can take a swim in your pool?”
–
This should be a page in the history books, ripped away and shrouded in the shadows, never to be disclosed to anyone else that isn’t yourself.
It’s also completely harmless when you’re mindlessly handing Sana one of your spare towels sitting in the bathroom, smiling sincerely when she accepts the simple item of hospitality with the add on of, if you also need some extra clothes to wear because you dipped your feet in the pool with the overhanging flared sweatpants of yours getting stained, I can lend you a pair while it dries up - pick it up tomorrow or have it dropped off-
She floats her way down the steps, towel over her shoulder, “I’d take an extra pair of pants to use after I finish, thank you.”
You nod, letting herself like at home as if her own home wasn’t only less than five seconds away next to yours. The glass sliding door opens up to the balcony when you finally hear the light crash of water being made from the floor below.
There’s something calming about the light blue glow being illuminated from the pool, looking up at the different stars and constellations with today’s moon being somewhat of a mix between a half moon slowly transitioning into a crescent. Dahyun was also with you in this same position after the first night of moving in, pointing out the basic lines of the Big Dipper and the Alpha Centauri, you showing her Orion’s belt before she made a counterargument that it wasn’t a freaking belt, but it just goes to show that you’re just counting the days down until Dahyun gets back from brining the trial win home.
Looking down, you just see Sana the singular hint of honey brown sitting on the edge of the pool before slowly dipping in, getting the ends of her hair wet before tying it up in a high bun and happily floating in place, sighing while the refreshing yet, cool temperature of water settle around her body.
The room of your study looks tempting to set up base camp, not the worst option to consider also as a form to keep yourself occupied while your bubbly neighbor was right outside your backyard swimming in the night.
(God’s really picking and choosing your battles in any way that he pleases, huh?)
You stay the course, grabbing a quick bottle of Heiniken from the fridge when you’re seeing the sight of Sana’s shoulders and arms breaking the flow of water, her head just above the turquoise surface, the light shining beneath her face to get a good glimpse of her rosy cheeks, those lips tugged at the ends of them in a soft smile, the line of her neck also doing you numbers than the beverage in your hand before you’ve even got a propper sip.
Sana looks towards the back of the house, you raise the bottle up to let her know that you’re still here, noticing the pile of clothes on one of the lounge chairs, neatly folded with her phone as the cherry on top.
Here’s where you make mistake #1: The second bottle in your left hand needs a drinker, and you step your way out into the boardwalk of your pool. A missing piece of detail that you completely ignored was how Sana’s pile of clothes was lacking one vital part–
“I find it to be pretty peculiar for my wife’s friend to be skinny dipping in my pool at around this hour.” you inform Sana of the situation, to which she softly laughs at the observation while you’re kneeling at the edge, placing the two bottles off to the side that you’ll get back to later.
Sana floats her way to the edge of the pool right next to you, arms hanging on the deep end while looking up, “Didn’t think I needed the necessary layers, no?”
“You want to tell me about layers when you’re wearing nothing underneath.”
“Where’s the fun in having swimsuits and trunks?” she teases, “it’s too much of a hassle for me to go through the exhausting process of changing in your spare bathroom that’s miles away from the pool.”
“There was literally a bathroom for you next to the kitchen that you passed by to get here.“
“Why don’t you join me? The pool’s too big to have one person inside.”
No. No. Don’t even think about–
“And if I refuse?” you ask quickly, naively.
Sana leans her head back, and your eyes can’t help in anything besides fucking you up. The waves of the water cleared up, returning to its calm, idle state where you catch the highlighted sallow skin against the light, catching her hips and legs flowing freely. She lets her lower body rise up to the surface, hands still alongside the edge almost as if she’s lounging on the nearby chairs - it also hits you that she’s doing it on purpose, the fact that her bare ass is just out in the open air for you to see–
Right on cue, mistake #2: you sit down nicely, criss-cross like a little kid; and Sana scoots herself to where you’re sitting, closely, dangerously.
“I’ve got some pull for you to rethink, take my offer into some light consideration.” she muses, and the leaning closer coming from you is seriously not helping. She’s got her hand laying below your knee, and she might as well be right under you with the ground advantage.
That same lean is also curious; it’s also pretty familiar too - how the natural state of gravity works, Dahyun reeled you in to some similar form a long while ago - forget if or maybe if the fact she looked first or you looked first, it doesn’t matter. One key difference between that event and now was the fact that you realize that you’ve toppled over and into the swimming pool, clothes still on and everything, the brisk feeling of water washing over before you find yourself breathing, ears getting flushed out and replaced with Sana’s sweet laugh to top if all off.
You swipe your hands through your soaked face, slowly floating to the shallow end while cringing at the present moment that just occurred. The blend on your shirt and sweats mold to your figure, like someone had slapped clay on you. Chlorine is not good for the eyes, obviously, so keep rubbing your eyes and clearing out any sinuses while telling Sana that you’re not inviting her in the next time after this night.
Sana has this effect on people, so natural and open to the point with others that she’s hugging everyone and doing skinship as she pleases, you’re not far off from the latter, in fact–
“I thought you’d be a little more vocal with the fact I pulled you in,” she tells you, turning away slightly when you splash a hint of water as she approaches you.
“It’s cold,” you say blankly, slicking your hair back while Sana closes the distance. Sly smile and everything.
“That’s all you have to say?” she asks, “So dry.”
“Aside from the fact that you’re swimming naked in my pool, I think there’s more pressing issues for me to take care of.”
Pressing issues noted, Sana is well within arms reach, except you have another look at her charming face, her body under the water - she’s well defined in all avenues, fair skin that would even rival Dahyun’s for a quick comparison, her hands continue to do their own thing when they’re measuring the shape of your middle, fingertips grazing the soaked shirt and all.
“I’m sorry” she breathes out, the faintest apology of them all.
You’ve got your arms around her waist, not a care to fully realize what you’re actually doing; it’s a collapse in real time, her hand to the back of your neck: mistake #3.
With a simple press of her lips on yours, she grips tightly, the draw of air clouding the intoxicating taste that has you humming a bit, the slide of her fingers down the line of your jaw before going off the rails with replacing the hand with a full on arm, hooking onto your neck while you move up to her upper back.
But this inferno was unraveling.
Her legs fill the gap between yours, hands are now on both sides of her face, thumb sliding across that prominent cheek bone that will have you sculpting out the details some other time. She’s kissing you like she wanted this to happen, the desperation, hunger even, like it would be the last thing needed over everything else, and you’d give that to her. It’s all sinking, that box of thoughts that was supposed to stay at the bottom of the ocean, the sealed lock intact and with no key to open, it’s resurfacing like the breaths of air you and Sana share with your faces just centimeters away from each other.
“Do you think you can forgive me?” she stops to ask.
A fucking truck of reasoning is what hits you, pulling back even more but your hands are now keeping Sana in place, just right above her ass holding at the hips. “Yes- no-” She pulls you in for another convincing kiss before another could be stolen on her cheek, the same sigh she sounded in your throat a few seconds ago comes around. “I don’t know anymore.”
“It’s okay to not know.” Sana’s face softens when you can’t even bother to look her in the eyes now, tilting your chin up to support, lightly stroking it. “We probably shouldn’t.”
She’s right. You’ve got to end this and you have to end it now.
“But what if we did?” You’re left breathing, in disbelief.
“Would you want to find out?” Sana asks again, unsure but also confident. “There’s this kind of luxury I’m fascinated with discovering the unknown.”
You’re thinking of these different stories in your head, the different kinds of graphs and tables riddled with numbers trying to come up with a logical case, predicting a scenario where you could forget about all of this, count the days until you won’t be alone again with the right person. Except Sana is dishing out all of these simple motions that have you leaning in for more, yearning. A hand is being slid across the shoulder, her face is suddenly closer with yours when you pull her towards you. “I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t afraid.”
“Don’t feel bad,” she tells you, a comforting whisper, wisping in the breeze. “You’ll be able to catch on quickly.”
(If there was anything that you’ve noticed while starting this new chapter: you’ve learned that the sly smile armed by Minatozaki Sana will have anybody flipping over, ruining lives and starting fires.)
All common sense gets tossed out of the pool when you kiss her again, a choice that will have its own consequences when the time is right, the floodgates of sin opening harshly while you've just signed your one-way ticket straight to hell.
–
Another thing that you learn from the houses that are oozing with richness up and down the street is that money and sex have powerful selling points.
This may be subject to change, but when you have an art piece like Sana stolen from the museum of her house (figuratively), all fingers and charges point toward theft, the necessary offenses that follow after don’t really matter as of right now.
–
It’s not that difficult for you to fall in a place like this: carrying Sana up the steps but only stopping short at the doorway when she’s lapping her tongue into your mouth. She’s still wet in your hands from the pool, and you have the wall play as a part to keep her in place - the fit of your lips breaking apart before they find themselves again.
“Mmm,” Sana hums into your mouth when you finally let her down, on the balls of her feet while your hands wrap around her waist again, knee lightly nudging the apparent line of your cock with the pads of her fingers soon after, testing it.
“Hey,” you mumble, pulling away with an audible smack from her lips, tongue licking your mouth while she softly laughs, and again - it’s definitely on purpose when her hand palms your cock more firmly through the soaked sweatpants that has you gasping for a millisecond. “Trying to get on with it faster now, are we?”
Her hand sets itself on your chest, eyes meeting with hers half-lidded, she knows what she’s doing, she knows that this is wrong, and she most definitely knows that this is on purpose. You tilt your head more deeper only for her to stop you for not more than two seconds, before easily allowing you to kiss her once again.
“Who’s leading?” Sana laughs at herself, still stark naked when your hands land at the rise of her hip, massaging the slope of her ass with the droplets of water gliding across your palms. “Wouldn’t be right of me to do all of the hard work, begging at the fact that you’re about to fuck me over in this huge house, get your fingers inside and finally have that perfect dick that Dahyun always talks about.”
“She told you?”
“Much like every time we catch up. Always.”
“What do you know so far?”
Sana sighs when you kiss her again, the lines on her face softening like a flush of anxiety that suddenly went away in a matter of a second. Your hand is quick to travel to the back of her head, pull the elastic of her hair tie that lets her locks flow down while the counterpart is palming her warm, bare cunt, eliciting a slight gasp while you’re smiling into her skin. “She- she told me that you were disappointing the first time y-you guys did it.”
“Oh?” you mutter, thumb tapping on her clit that makes her whole body stiffen while the pad of your middle finger slowly scoops under her folds, noting how much she’s gotten slick in the short span of time. “The inexperience was the main factor.”
Another finger pushes inside, feeling the stretch while your ear receives the steady decline of Sana’s breaths, lip being pulled inward by the upper row of her teeth while her chest heaves, the heat becoming too unbearable to handle. She’s not one to let you take the easy route, putting her lips back with yours while you scoop under her luscious ass, walking past the doorway and into the bedroom - a space where Dahyun’s appearance was the common one - now introducing a newcomer that will make her case to stay.
The landing on the bed isn’t gentle, and Sana slightly sets herself up on one elbow, while you’re tugging the sopped clothes off your body, trying to get a read into this pretty woman’s eyes of the things you want to do to her. You’ll make her cum, flip her into the mattress, have her bouncing on your cock later, get her whimpering while you drink in the sight of her pretty face just blown out, euphoric, the writing’s already on the wall before you even get a chance to draw the pen.
“You think I’m gonna disappoint you with my performance? Maybe prove that Dahyun’s point still stands?” you ask her, making your space bigger over hers when you’re on top of her, pulling from the hips to get her to meet your thighs. Sana bites her lip in a short excitement, keeping her gaze on yours when her fingers finally wrap around your cock, giving a few experimental pumps while she spreads wider, opening the gates to an avenue that will have you packing your bags to the next house over. “Imagine if–”
“I’ll make you shut up about your worries, now fill my pussy up. With your fingers, your cock, just anything, please.”
She’s desperate for you, and you have to admit it too, but when that first rush of every single sensation registering in your mind from the very instant you have your cock wrapped around her, sliding inside those lines with the small tug of your hips, pushing more while you could feel nails rip into your skin.
It’s a new entry of data, the approach of how Sana’s pussy is downright perfect for you. There’s a slight throb, a misfire when the strokes are still hesitant, uncertain exchanges of breaths with the slow blinks between her eyes and yours. Uninviting, but all the more welcoming with her walls, clinging into the deeper ends of her cunt, breaking down the imaginary lines of numbers and rope circling through your head.
“My, fuck–” and you also choke out something too when she says that, the muted cry she let out while you take a moment to readjust, sliding out before you yank Sana’s hips onto your cock again. “T-this is everything.”
Like you need the exposition on the term everything. All of your worries wash away when you thrust more ferociously, the internal bomb in your brain ticking away the time every single speck of seconds that passes through burying your cock inside her. You’re nowhere near gentle at this point, the squeeze that has you mirroring Sana’s “hnns” over the claps of your thighs with hers, taking advantage of the arch in her back by hooking your arms underneath while one of her long legs locks around you.
“So good,” she just groans out, relishing in the feeling of it. “Don’t stop–”
You’re also not safe from it either, fingers resting alongside her midriff where her hands are placed on top, grasping at the new angle of your hips where it has her wheezing, the fresh spot of heat hitting the base also making your lose your sense of awareness, reduced to nothing but just a desolate being of a husband that’s throwing their marriage away.
Her creaming cunt only keeps you focused, the pretty sounds and remarks coming out of her mouth has you giving her expressions of confusion, lust, shock, and maybe that longing look of when you see someone at first sight and it just kills you, right then and there. The sheets come undone, a pillow is used as a secondary support underneath her back, a clutch of the tit and she does this simple evil grab of your hips while you’re ruthlessly pounding into her helpless body, utilized as a vice the more you hold your end of the bargain.
“Sana, you’re–” and again, the mind blanks out of this small blurb of praise before she just giggles for her response, fucking her so throughly that you’re running the different combinations of tempos to get her even more ruined, fucked dumb, maybe even have her begging to be used over your cock like this again soon - the eventuality of that notion will be all too apparent when the sun rises the next morning.
She just clings to you, keeping your hips in motion while her hands cup around your face once more, pulling inward for that press of lips all over again like the beginning. You feel the wobbling lip, a thumb quick to keep her coaxing while she whimpers in absolute bliss.
“I want you,” she huffs, and you’re falling through the cracks with every steady stroke of your cock between the opening of her legs, “to make me cum. Make a mess out of me and this pussy.”
You’re taking shelter between her mounds, not wanting to look up in pension for the cardinal sins committed tonight, lips swiping up and down her neck that has Sana moan out in approval, the clamp of her walls tightening every return back to the bottom, her hands are over your back, tracing lines, fantasizing. She’s a fucking waterfall every thrust you take.
“I’m- fuck–you’re gonna–gonna make me cum so fucking hard.” you feel the pulse impending, the muffled squeak that she makes in your lips, she’ll be the first to fall. That eruption happens fast, the spasm and tighter grab in her walls around you while she’s crying for now.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for this incident, a flashpoint in time that was probably bound to happen, fucking Sana in the walls of your own bedroom this hard– “You’re something else, just like you were meant to have me like this, God.”
“Keep fucking me like this - god that feels so good, You and your cock it’s-” she huffs, barely smiling. She can see you slipping, at the edge, the litany of moans sounding like a siren out at sea. That mess she requested, you’ll give it to her, bury your cock in the deepest depths where it shouldn’t even be humanly possible, where the molten hot walls are bursting the thickness of your head, grinding out every cell and fiber - it’s possible. “Fuck, that’s so hot when you’re all fucked out for me.”
“Sana,” you say, and she has your hand over her tongue, licking up the thumb, and you’ll swear that it’ll do damage to you for centuries.
“Mhm,” she responds nicely, the last bit of the hum coming out as a hitched whimper, “Cum inside me.”
That’s how she’ll want to do things. If she wants something, she’ll get it. You do the same amount of damage to her like she did to you while she’s begging, whimpering, getting all of the lovely noises of being fucked out to oblivion out of her mouth until she’s leaking - washing you over, from the legs, to the pillows and sheets. Stretching her out perfectly, get her to slur out phrases that she would say normally on occasions not like this, only to come back around and have you fill in between the gaps.
You slip, she slips, it won’t matter, because you or her will make the catch, that extra push deep, maybe harder. The velvety drag already has you addicted to her, the sight of her body above this hips was just the plus.
“God, Sana. So fucking wonderful.” you snarl against the line of her cheek, one last final dip that has your cum flooding deep into her warm, velvety cunt.
The throbs of your cock has Sana mumuring softly, saying something like - yes, yes, keep fucking your cum into me, so that I can feel it - nice and hot, god yes.
You slide out halfway, and her hips buck from the tender motion while your hands rub her thighs. And you also black out for a second when a few more spurts coat her walls even more, the pullout quick for a fist around the head of your cock, covering her waist in the remaining bits of cum still left inside you - well fucked and sloppy.
Sana’s eyelids flutter shut, your hand rubbing along the oblique of your hips, that sense of desire finally fading away when you fully realize what had just transpired in the past hour or so. The lights are off in the house with the illuminating glow of the moon breaking through the window, tinnitus ringing in your eardrums and your eyes are fixated on Sana again, cross-eyed on the cum-soaked fingers she has, taking the liberty of sucking on them shamelessly, and the fucking noises she makes has your jaw to the floor.
“Thank you,” she says, sweetly, innocently, sitting up on the bed with her legs crossed, the trail of cum still apparent on her stomach. “You certainly did not disappoint.”
You, my friend, are entirely fucked.
“What’s gonna happen to us now?” you ask her, rubbing your face and shaking your head in disapproval while Sana cleans the rest of herself up with her fingers. “I think we made–”
“Did I not tell you to worry?” Sana’s quick to shut you down, her look cross while you don’t even bother to meet her in the eye. This is supposed to feel wrong, it shouldn’t feel like anything else besides that. She scoots herself over to you with a quick kiss to your cheek, one that you accept openly, but still feel pensive over.
“We can talk about it later,” she says, sliding herself into the rumpled sheets, patting down the open space next to her. “Would you mind if I stay the night? In your room? And in your bed?”
“I can’t really turn down that offer,” you laugh, following along with a hand trailing up the side of her figure, giving a meaningful press of lips to the spot of her hair, “I actually like the company now.”
“Would you also mind if I want it later when I can’t sleep?”
“I’m seriously gonna hate you for this when we’re done.”
“But I’m asking nicely.” she says, and hums this sweet tone when you lay next to her, feeling her ass shimmying against your cock underneath. “You’ll say yes,right?”
“Keep up with the needy act, and maybe I’ll have to fuck the want right out of you.”
Sana rolls herself on top of you, finger tracing the lines of your face again, sketching, the bottom of her lip tugged by a pair of teeth. There’s that sly smile again, mischievous. It’s the reality now, she’s won you over.
“Consider it a gift for you.” she adds, kissing you again before she goes slack on your chest, the wave of sleep finally setting in.
–
(This actually comes later when you can’t dream a wink, staring up at the high ceiling:
It only takes little effort for someone to make a house into a home - and you learn to the best extent possible, Sana slots in that missing piece where Dahyun is supposed to fill - without even fully realizing it.
Her and Dahyun are two sides of the same coin, both give you this sense of ease and confusion that has you looking off while they’re trying to hide the inevitable laughs. They’re both also moodmakers with the way they look at you with the earnest smile, a reminder of one and the other that you’re not too far behind to follow.
Every nick of the mouth moving, the glint in their eyes that will break you down from the shackles of rational thoughts while the springs in your bed are supporting the absolute fucking you’re doing over them.
Maybe this summer will be saved after all.)
–
When the crack of dawn breaks through the sunrise, you’re trying to recollect what little thoughts you have left of your deteriorating marriage; as in, what’s gonna happen to you when Dahyun finds out you’ve slept with her close friend who just happens to live in the house right next door, aside from other things. This space was now tainted in the heinous acts you’ve committed but the only thing that was filling the front of your mind was the amount of work emails you saw on your phone while waking up.
“You’re just gonna leave me here in the bed all alone?” Sana asks, your back still turned to her when you mindlessly flick up the switch to your bathroom.
A simple spin on the ball of your heel, and the image is just majestic to witness.
This 5’3 brunette that’s all sunshine and rainbows, replaced by a deity that oozes sexiness and uncapped lust, lays on the side of her frame with an elbow propped up to support her head, hair still having that post-fuck frizziness to it, the sheets are covering most of her middle, but that outreaching left leg exposed, folds in, and you catch that slope of her hip, her ass is also not that far behind to look over.
You already know her body all too well. If you could put someone that’s remotely close to the Greek god of Aphrodite, Sana would come very close to that.
“Are you really expecting yourself to stay here?” you ask, fishing for your toothbrush before washing it with one hand, the other grabbing the minty toothpaste that was adjacent to it in the cup. “You know that I have work, not to mention working at home too.”
You watch from the doorway when she sits up, the romp of her sheets falling over in front that shows that pale chest, her firm breasts that lay beneath her fine collarbones, there’s a new set of hickeys - the hickeys, showing your favorite spot to soothe her while she’s wailing in your arms, the rise and fall of her shoulders every breath let out has another wanting bite of her swollen lips.
“Is it too much to keep you company?” she asks again, tugging on the comforter, hoping that she’ll get the right answer out of you.
“It’s not that I mind about the company of you, it’s the fact that others would get suspicious.” you retort, placing down the brush filled toothpaste on the counter, “That’s the last thing that I want to happen.”
“How long has Dahyun been at trial with her firm?”
“At least a couple weeks at this point.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“You need to go home.”
“But your place is a lot nicer than mine, clean also.” she smiles, looking up little by little when you approach her on the edge of the bed. A hand is outreached with hers, and it’s damning how well it fits with yours, the automatic reflex of brushing your thumb over the highest peak of her middle knuckle. You don’t even flinch at the fact that she’s moved your hand over to her breast, tracing her nipple. It’s not hard to ease into these seductive advances, softly chuckling at the way Sana’s tit has a sort of weight to them - perky, but impossible to resist.
“What am I gonna do with you?” you ask yourself, a little loudly for Sana to hear too, “I have to get ready.”
“Breakfast on the table?”
“Have you freshen up before you do the walk of shame next door.” you whisper, helping her up, swooping under her legs in a bridal carry. The tangle of her hairs on your chest when she leans her head in, laughing, the smell of citrus and lingering sweat. “The comforter was too heavy and hot anyway.”
Sana just giggles, waving her feet in the air, into the bathroom where her skin glows a little bit lighter. “What’s the point of having that open room next to yours if it’s not used?”
–
(There’s a lot of questions that don’t get answered. Partly because Sana can’t concentrate while you’re kneeling between her legs in the shower, lapping away at her clit, washing away any slick that’s left out; her fingers are splayed out across the tile, slipping, dripping away from her hips.
You also shouldn’t be whispering these sweet nothings into her ear either, kissing her as if in another reality, maybe this too, could be a thing. It isn’t fair, it’s not right. She comes off as urgent, hoping to keep your mind off of the responsibilities sitting at your desk for just a little while longer. “Don’t do this to me.” That’s a plea, your mouth hovering over her neck, she has your dress shirt draped over her on the kitchen island with her knees apart again, filling in the space while she’s all porcelain teeth and warm tongue. She tugs on your lips like she wants every last bit of you, and it’s not worth fighting for. Her mouth gets on the cuff of your ear, and she whispers this spell, a curse rather, impending your fate even more:
“I think you know all of the things that I would do to you.”)
–
Fucking Sana has its own luxury.
This living art piece wandering about in your house where no one else knows. She comes to your place, you go to hers, it’s a trade off that’s very easy to do when you’re just a few steps away from each other’s doors.
We could also talk about benefits. The benefits. She asks for a couple favors - a helping hand to clean the house (yours or hers) as an example - you have some requests of your own, mostly to just have a quick bite of her cooking or pull some aged alcohol that was gifted to you a long while ago, half the bottle already gone before the end of one night. It usually ends up with you sinking inside of her, caressing her gentle body, kissing the nape of her neck when your hips mesh with hers perfectly.
It’s a new fun that’s profound in yourself. This super popular model that has every hot contact of companies you could name off the top of your head in her phone, taking a quick hiatus for some ‘me’ time. She’s got a solid income, her closet is full of brands that you take note of to give to Dahyun later down the line, and the sex man, it’s just fucking- well, terrific.
If having Sana all to yourself was the prime exclusivity in its own right, the girls she invites over make everything much more interesting, just aside from the fact that she comes unannounced most of the time. Oh, and that girl in her picture framed back at her place, Chou Tzuyu, she’s a real sweetheart. You’ll have her tag along with Sana no matter what time of the day it is (or night, because you’ll always be free outside of work when it counts).
Sana usually stays in your house more compared to hers, and she usually seeks you out first with a longing press of lips on yours. Tender, sweet, before you get into the best part of your regular business day, bending her over the nearest piece of furniture and dumping a nice hot load between her thighs while she goes on doing whatever you need her to do around the house to keep herself busy.
She doesn’t let you have your way that easily. There’s this business call you’re doing, talking about how the numbers don’t really add up for this list of statistic report you were handed an hour prior, trying to fight the gravity of your head leaning forward–
“Sana, your fucking mouth. So good, jesus.” you mutter, cradling her head while she taps your cock on her perfect lips, laving her tongue over before she dips down again, pushing you past the tightness of her throat.
–of the very person pushing your thighs apart underneath the desk when she primes at the very angle, bobbing her head slowly while maintaining that hypnotic friction of her hand over your shaft.
You hit the key binded to the mute button on the call, not giving a single ear of the person in the session rambling about well, if we could get an extra day or two with the new inputs for the program, then maybe we the numbers that are put together can line up with the graph - ‘and, let me get this straight–’
“Mmph, god.” You’re broken down to just a few simple actions, combing Sana’s hair, guiding her silkly mouth onto your cock, and she doesn’t let up the fucking pace. You’ve got your fingers intertwined with hers on your thigh, not giving a care of how she’s so persistent to get you off like this, choking, drawing back for some air - her pinky and ring finger moving in this motion on the tip that has you shuddering.
“Such a fucking hard worker,” she says, biting her lip, the glare in her eyes that’s nearly demonic while her tongue slips along the underside and upper part of your cock. “How could you talk so calmly while your dick is in my mouth?”
“I’ve had practice before,” you answer, slightly smirking at the memory of Dahyun doing the exact same to you long ago, it’s no different.
Keeping it together wasn’t the option anymore, while the rush of Sana’s mouth is drawn back to you, proceeding with the online meeting as planned, discussing the future plans delegated to your coworkers. Too bad that they can’t hear the litany of gurgles and gags happening below your desk, struggling to not use one hand and keep Sana buried under there, watching with that lustful look in your eyes when she knows you’re about to pop, the shake of your leg as the sole hint to what she needs before putting both hands into the mix, all wet while every ounce of focus gets diluted to the ceiling.
The meeting eventually ends while groaning at Sana’s throat bottoming you out, spilling inside that heat with a weak buck of your hips, shoving everything into her where your balls meet her chin. It just happens, more and more; her mouth is so fucked for you that some of the cum gets on her teeth when you slide out of her. The worst part: you’re still fucking leaking, getting it on her bottom lip, another rope above her eyebrow; the splatter doesn’t even end when she lightly presses a thumb down at the base and you get another drop to her cheek - it still isn’t fair when she wraps her fingers around, lightly stoking while your entire lower half of your body is still twitching once the work is all done.
Sana can be evil, but she goes back to being a bundle of joy when she plants a kiss to the tip, pushing your chair back and kisses you back on the lips, wiping some remnants of your cum from your lips onto her fingertip while she sucks them cleanly. “Productive call?”
“Got a few more clients to talk to, but thanks. I needed that.” you sigh, fingers on her chin to assess the proof, nodding Sana off to go ahead and wash up before cooking lunch.
“You still want the usual meal?”
–
Sana goes away for a few days, and the place gets hollow again.
You have the phone in your ear with your manager to talk about potential vacation time (talk about great timing too), and with a press of a button on the TV, you see the headline on the channel broadcast:
Dahyun and her firm won the trial. Which means that she’s finally coming home.
–
Dahyun’s homecoming is a bit short lived when you wait for her right on the street, her personal chauffeur rolling away while she’s walking to you with a duffel bag, a carry-on luggage, and her briefcase that she sets down before jumping into your arms. She smells soapy, a nice tinge of lavender when you bury your nose into the midpoint of her collar and neck. You tell her that you’re proud, give her the necessary congrats before dishing out the reassurance that you didn’t burn the goddamn place down while she was out saving her own job.
“You didn’t miss much,” you say, watching Dahyun take a longing bite of the salmon dish you cooked for her, the hum of approval with that smile you’ve missed so much for god knows how many weeks has it been. “Besides the fact that you were saving your career, I kept myself busy with the projects at mine.”
“Really,” she starts, “I would think that you’d drive yourself insane up until I finally managed to get back. That racing sim setup would literally drive your attention away from me, so I thought that was one of the things to keep you busy.”
“I didn’t even have the whole thing unboxed yet,” you manage, swiping her glass of water for you to drink out of while she drives the knife into the food for another slice. “If anything, I was just cooped up in my office while keeping the house nice and tidy.”
“Good to know. Have you been doing stuff with the others while I was gone?”
“Who do you mean?”
“I mean. Jihyo, Mina, maybe even Sana.” Dahyun says, and your gaze shifts from stoic to this more pensive one; like the last name makes you remember things that you’re not supposed to. “You did help with Sana right?”
“I did. I was hoping that she left a handful of messages for you to read when you got off the plane.”
The doorbell rings, and your wife is quick to answer it with that fast-paced walk of hers. By the time she opens the door, the home is filled with a familiar sound that was echoing through the hallways not that long ago, a week, three weeks even.
Sana greets Dahyun with a loving embrace much like yours earlier this morning. Their conversation was pretty much filled with the usual ‘when did you get back?”, ‘you have to fill me in on everything that happened at your work!’, and ‘did you give him a hard time with the stuff you asked him to do?’ All of these questions have your head at an angle when you see the pair of them cling onto each other, like lost friends who haven’t seen each other but miraculously reunite at an airport after who knows what time frame you’d put them in.
(Sana gives you this gaze, one that will have you kicking your heels while she combs down Dahyun’s hair, that sly smile of a girl who knows what they did, what she does to you.)
You do nothing, just give her the simple wave and smile like nothing ever happened, while your mind plays a whole different tune and movie in the back of your head.
–
(A small tidbit about montages: these moments in time from here on out to help shape up how stories play going forward. It’s not pretty, playing Sana’s game of chess while the ‘oh, my wife doesn’t know I cheated on her with her best friend who just happens to be our next door neighbor’ runs in your head.
The blips don’t also fucking help either:
Instance #1: Another house party hosted by you and Dahyun where you bump into Sana in the kitchen, who returns with a playful tap to your crotch and a smack to your ass that has you buckling forward while you hear her laugh fade into the crowd.
Instance #2: Sana comes over for a movie night with Dahyun. While she went to use the bathroom, she uses this as an advantage to straddle over your lap, sucking your face up with her lips like a vacuum in the dark before she hurries back to her original spot on the couch, fixing up her hair and wiping her lips, playfully pointing at the hickey underneath your jaw that has you rolling her eyes by the time Dahyun settles back in the seat.
And finally, instance #3: The infamous office room incident. Where you had a dinner party with the neighbors again to celebrate your promotional achievement of heading this massive project that would benefit into making electric cars more affordable for the common money maker. Everyone is having fun with the drinks and partying aspect of it while Sana is on her knees, again, in the dark, deepthroating your cock with the door open for anyone to notice. All urges are off the table when you and her stow yourselves away into the guest room (with the meticulously placed soundproof foam pads all over the walls) when you have Sana’s light body bouncing over your cock, hammering down her hot cunt for a few minutes while she bites her own finger when you switch up the tempo to be more slow, loving, a deliberate way where she can really feel every throb inside her. She has a hand to the small of your back, you’re covering her moans with your palm, making her cum over and over until she’s walking to her house with a stutter in her step.
More incidents did occur, but there’s got to be a sense of craziness if we’re thinking of going through all of them.)
–
“I’d say that things are pretty normal now,” you say, arm around Dahyun’s back with fingertips just grazing the top of her ass, legs over your lap while taking shade on the couch in the backyard patio, hanging out with a quartet of drinks on the table, two for you, and the other two for Sana and Tzuyu.
They’re here on another hot Thursday, not wanting to risk a brownout with the a/c running for more than the viable six to eight hours that you’d normally have while working, taking a dip in the pool for a bit. Two pretty girls in clad bikinis: Sana in a revealing two piece that barely covers her nipples and pussy, Tzuyu in a striking singular bathing suit that shows those luscious thighs almost having you drool when she gets out of the water.
“This was so much better than just walking around in our underwear around the house.” Tzuyu says, laughing, grabbing her bottle of this brand you pulled from the fridge when she takes a nice swig. You remember the faint memory of waking up one morning with Tzuyu and Sana, both of them taking turns fucking you in different parts around the house. Tzuyu on the couch in the living room and Sana again on your office chair, hopping along your cock while you’re typing in a report on the desktop.
Sana’s laugh fills the atmosphere when she talks about pushing Dahyun into the pool, her look unamused when you stare at her in bewilderment while she sees Dahyun slap your shoulder, motioning you to take on the defensive. “You really have nothing else better to do than to spend your time with us.”
“You and Dahyun are good company.” Sana says, dismissively, hand on Tzuyu’s thigh to also include her in the conversation.
Dahyun shifts her legs off of your lap, pulling them in towards her while you sit up, leaning forward for the empty bottles before you’re stopped by Sana and Tzuyu, who both offered to get another round of drinks back inside while you relax. The pair of them both walk away, arm in arm, two beautiful girls with both bearing breathtaking asses, all within line of your eyesight.
“You don’t think I know,” Dahyun says, snapping your gaze immediately back to her.
“Know what?” you say, crossing your arm over while she leans in closer to you, making a face that looks very serious, but not threatening. A lick of your inner lip sends you uneasy while Dahyun’s eyes stare deeply into your soul. That deepening pit of anxiety inside your stomach has you second guessing on whether or not being honest and transparent with your wife should be the best route to go knowing what you did. What you’ve done.
“Nothing,” she answers after, “Wanted to test something out of you.” Dahyun then leans her head into your collarbone while you stare out into the blue horizon hearing the sounds of Sana and Tzuyu come back with another bundle of bottles waiting to be downed.
–
This happens entirely on a whim, and when you’re not even a part of the picture.
Sana answers the door to her house, eyes shooting up when Dahyun’s at the top step, smiling with a bag from the bakery and a full bottle of sparkling cider.
It’s the usual game of the catch-up conversation, Dahyun talks about her draining work from the trial, plus her extended vacation time handed by her boss. Sana talks about the upcoming collabs that she’s been appointed to, a plane waiting with an open door for her on the taxiway by the end of the month.
Exchanging laughs, quick memories of their past hangouts. The high-school reunion type vibe has this sense of nostalgic feeling between the two of them, but Dahyun drops the act completely out of nowhere to talk about more pressing matters.
“How long?” she asks Sana, placing her glass neatly on the counter across from her.
“What are you talking about?” Sana says, swallowing down a lump of bread down her throat, worrying. “Did I do something wrong?”
“I know you’ve been getting cozy with him,” Dahyun says flatly, “I just want you to tell me if that’s true or not.”
“About?”
“Getting his dick all up inside of you like you wanted.”
“I thought you were okay with it?”
“I never said anything remotely close to that.” Dahyun sighs, grabbing the half-full bottle of cider before downing it straight from the opening, placing it down right after while Sana taps her finger on the counter. “Besides, he’s probably worried that our marriage is ruined.”
“Doesn’t seem that way.”
“Sana, what are you implying?”
“What I’m implying,” Sana prompts sweetly, stepping towards Dahyun around the counter, snaking a hand down her waist where it’s open in the crop-top, kissing her by surprise. Dahyun’s mouth opens wider, fingers curling around the nape of Sana’s neck, like an old memory locked away coming to light again. “Is that we show your lovely man that shouldn’t be the case between us.”
She dips her face into Dahyun’s again, the kiss more intoxicating than the first initial contact. It’s how Dahyun melts down from Sana, the way her spine curves backwards, Sana’s hands there at the perfect time to support her, both of them are panting into it, how open they were about their feelings for each other before you waltzed in to have Dahyun all to yourself.
“I hate how I like you and him both.” Dahyun gasps when Sana plants her lips across her neck, her hands grasping her waist and ass that gets this hum of approval from Sana on her skin. “Maybe we could find a probable compromise to solve this little problem?”
“Is it the same compromise I’m thinking of seeing his pretty eyes when we cum all over his cock?” Sana asks with a wink while Dahyun just giggles into her chest.
“I love it when you and I are on the same page.”
–
A sigh leaves your lips when you hear how the metal grinds inside the lock of your doorknob, pushing the front door open to see the surprise of an article of clothing, sitting at your feet, tilting your head to the side when you pick it up to see that it was a cropped shirt. The soft sound of the humidifier fills the eerie silence when your eyes notice another piece of clothing a few inches away from the shirt, connecting the dots in your mind realizing the trail of clothes up the stairs.
Once up the steps, the pieces start to get larger: first a shirt, then some stockings, the door leading into your bedroom was ajar, the knob hanging with two pairs of panties. The hinges on your door squeak but so quietly, and your ears are greeted with a familiar laugh, not just one, but two.
Without producing any more noise to make your presence known, your eye captures the sight of Sana on your bed, dipping her head lower to a girl laying underneath, caressing her face while the other girl giggles, returning the kiss openly. It’s pretty peculiar, when you also realize that both of them are naked on your mattress, it’s also really fucking peculiar when you connect the dots that the girl laying underneath Sana is Dahyun of all people.
“I suppose that Sana’s little secret was finally let out by her.” you finally say, leaning on the door frame with the smooth wood wide open. And when the both look up at you, Sana looking up and forward, Dahyun looking from under while laying still, fuck, it’s sending signals to your brain at the image of them on top of each other like this, a mesh of skin on skin, their pretty faces stacked on their chins - you could sketch it on an easel, because that’s a literal art piece in real time.
Your mind doesn’t even register the few seconds after, when both Dahyun and Sana make way towards you, the movement of their bodies in perfect sync, hypnotized at the way you watch how they stand on their tiptoes - ghosting their hands all over your chest and hips while your hands tend to their asses, palm at the defined fit of them, softly laughing.
“We had,” Sana and Dahyun both say each word in different pauses, something straight out of a horror movie at the way they ad lib each other’s utterances. “An idea,” Sana adds. “That you’d hope you’ll like.” Dahyun finishes. “Would you like to see what we were discussing?”
(God picked your battles, and maybe you could let him off the hook just this once.)
“Impress me,” you simply say, while Sana pulls your head into hers when she kisses you in front of Dahyun.
–
So Sana and Dahyun return to the positions where you first found them.
The only difference being, Dahyun hanging her head off the bed upside down, dragging her tongue across the seam of your balls while Sana’s tongue slips inside your mouth, her slender fingers giving these languid strokes to your cock while the pair of them just hum in content, getting you ready when all of the gears are primed to click.
The contrast between the two of them, Sana being gentle with her lips while Dahyun is the complete opposite with hers, aggressive with the way her tongue swipes across the underside of your cock, her hands wrapped around your thighs to get more of those lavish licks at the base that has you counting stars behind your eyelids early.
“How are you rock fucking hard?” Sana husks, brushing her lips against yours while Dahyun leaves a path of pecks to your inner thigh before she rolls her body over, looking up with her doe eyes while Sana lets herself fall right next to her, flipping her hair back while the sheets crinkle at the elbows, reflecting the same look before flashing her eyes back at Dahyun. “Makes me wonder who you’re gonna finish inside of at the end of this.”
“Didn’t know that this was a competition,” you say, mind zoning out when Sana draws her tongue up your underside now in a quick lick, Dahyun smiling on the opposite end doing the same exact thing, that will most definitely bite back your words.
It’s only right that Dahyun gets to be the first to push your head into her mouth, inhaling a bit while her tongue smoothes out across the area, delicately brushing along the length that sends the synapses in your spine on an electrical current. Sana just looks in awe at how much your wife is taking you, twisting a hand in play while she plants a wet kiss to her temple.
You could get lost in the finesse of how Dahyun’s small hands skate up your length, the cushion of her mouth already enough to have your tongue between your teeth, but Sana didn’t come her to just watch, tapping lightly on her shoulder and sliding you out of one heat into the next, and the expectation you had for Sana blowing you always gets thrown out the window.
“Fucking whore she is,” Dahyun rasps when Sana lowers her lips more down your cock, rolling along with the lightest graze of her teeth along the top, a twitch of your legs with a billowing puff of your cheeks to let them know that what they’re doing is working. How many times has he let you blow him under the desk? You hear Dahyun ask Sana, pulling some stray strands of hair from her side when she clasps her lips at the base, keeping you there in the sweltering heat.
“Oh Dahyun,” Sana reprimands, “You have no idea how much I’ve made him cum while you were away.”
A hand is thrown into the mix, behind both of their heads when they meet the glints in their eyes, uniformly taking your cockhead from the side, slowly sliding down at the suction, how they both fluidly slide you in their mouths in alternating fashion. Sana popping with her mouth, Dahyun swiping along the slit the next second.
“Christ girls,” and you could hear the giggles of satisfaction to your amazement when they both have a hand along the length, stroking slowly to the point you can’t even look them in the eye. “You had this planned for a while now, haven’t you?”
“I was against Sana’s crazy idea,” Dahyun purrs, face flushed when you notice that Sana’s hand is at her rear, fingers dipping into her cunt that’s already slicked up, waiting to be stretched, “but then she convinced me otherwise after some- propper persuasion.”
“Tell me,” Sana chimes in, that innocent pout with her pursed lips doing absolutely no justice to how she looks right now, “Who do you think is the bigger slut between the two of us, me? Or Dahyunie?”
Dahyun guwaffs when she leans into your palm, slapping your cock along her lips while you thumb the soft skin on her temple, swiping the underside of your head makes you grit your teeth at the amount of teasing they’re both doing. “Maybe he should fuck our faces to see,” she suggests, “Who could choke the hardest over this fucking cock.”
(With a pair of wide open eyes, you could only mouth the word, “fuck.”)
“You’d like that anyway, won’t you daddy?”
The obedience settles in when both of these girls let their hands rest on the edge of the bed, finger and thumb wrapped around your cock when you tell both of them to hang their mouths open, rubbing your tip around the rim of Sana’s lips when she opens wider, wider until her jaw fully slacks at the whole length, and you love how she’s a pro at this.
You take your deserved pleasure of how each of these girls' mouths feel around you. Sana’s lips being so unbearably perfect with those pretty lips of hers, sliding out and have Dahyun practically inhale your cock next, her eyes blinking up over the tight seal she has over you. “Jesus, baby–”
Sana helps play the guide fucking your cock more into Dahyun’s mouth, the subtle flick she has sliding around with every move and thrust flushing into her throat. Her small lips were already ahead of the curve mirroring Sana’s movements a few minutes ago, the pressure sending waves from your hips up, lightly clutching her hair to keep the ache building.
“Taking your baby so well, huh?” Sana growls over the sound of Dahyun desperately slipping her head down your length. “You like how she’s deepthroating you after not having your cock for a whole month?”
“Feels so fucking good,” you answer, spreading your legs apart to keep Dahyun’s mouth on your cock warm, moaning so loud when Sana’s other hand works your balls, fingernails scratching along the ridges of skin while she fingers her, the moans sending vibrations along your shaft nearly breaking you. “Keep- gonna cum on this pretty fucking face.”
Borderline filthy, almost off the fucking rails. Sana doesn’t like to play fair when she pulls Dahyun off of your cock, the drag of her tongue stripped off with a line spit connecting to her lips that’s soon catered to Sana’s mouth kissing Dahyun again, and the sight in itself is a blessing that you’ll never take for granted, how their faces tilt every second they meet, the smile breaking at the corner where you could notice them, delicately letting their fingers explore their faces, hooking into their hair and necks, the rise and fall of their shoulder every breath taken.
Sana’s head spins out of control when she’s pushed onto the pillows of the bed, propping on her elbows while Dahyun spreads her knees apart more, kissing up the line of her inner thigh. “Dahyun,” she rasps, head reeling back when she’s getting close to the center, “I’ve been dreaming of this to happen for so long: you eating me out while your husband is oh- looks like he’s already ahead of the–”
You don’t pay attention to their short exchange of words, relishing in the taste of Dahyun’s pussy, licking past the slit when you grip her asscheeks a little more tighter, a slip of the tongue over her clit, lapping up in the ways that you know your wife likes.
Like the trail of clothes to the bedroom, your vibrations transfer up to Dahyun’s mouth and into Sana’s cunt; it’s a connecting line of fucking when you slide your tongue deeper, where the heat is the most hot, hooking your arms over Dahyun’s thigh’s while Sana grips her head, whimpering the moans where she’s left struggling for air.
“Look at us, Dahyun, shit, he’s eating away at you, you’re eating away at me, this is so fucking good.”
Sana’s the first to sputter, the amount of hums in approval, cracking under the faults. You and Dahyun are on the same page when you’re slipping two fingers in - then three; Dahyun catches on while getting fucked over, adding her four fingers into Sana’s stretching pussy. She’s gonna lose it.
That whine she makes, when she’s over the edge, it’s the missing symphony in your ears.
“Yes, I’m cum– gonna fucking cum,” she cries out, Dahyun leans all the way in, back arched in a way that would rival a gymnast. The way your fingers are clutching at her snowy skin, enough to easily scratch and draw bruises, she’s quivering when you’ve also made her reach the peak like Sana: these meaningless sounds, air getting more static through their tracheas.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Dahyun whines out matching Sana’s volume, hips tensing while your mouth is pressing against the pucker of her ass, tongue and finger tag teaming while she fucks Sana through her sensitive pussy, past the first hurdle of cumming and skating a pair of fingertips over her clit, making Sana lock her knees while the circles on her nub continue, speaking complete nonsense and in mewls.
“I’ll fuck you now, just like you wanted.” you spit, pulling yourself closer to Dahyun by the hips, her whole body relaxing when you have the head of your cock, skimming the folds of her pussy while Sana cradles her head on her boobs, leaving languid kisses while Sana puts her legs up underneath.
“Need it–” Dahyun pants, only to be shut up by Sana kissing her again to keep her dazed.
“What do you need, honey?” you ask, leaning forward to kiss the line of her back, hand massaging her waist before you retract your hand up the dunes of her hip, onto the divot of her hip while impulsively smacking your wife’s ass that makes her yelp at how hard you hit it.
“Your cock- need your cock inside me-” She can barely answer while she’s drunk at the teasing of your cock along her pussy while Sana’s lips work her neck. “Need you to fuck me.”
“Well, he’s gonna have his work cut out for you isn’t he?” Sana asks, massaging Dahyun’s waist while the top of your thigh meets Sana’s ass, licking your finger to make her squeal when you rub it on her clit, and you get several. “Fucking our brains till we’re drained.” she tells you, watching as you stroke the length of your cock. How long could you hold out? How much can you handle? You’ll be good for us, let you easy- until you’re cumming a whole fucking mess.
Sana means business, Dahyun is already putty just waiting to be put back into a tube and spilled over on the bed. “You two will be good girls for me, and I’ll fuck you guys right.”
You mean what you say, it’s in existence. And when you push your head into Dahyun’s perfect pussy, the opening rips out a tone within her that you’ll always remember - sucking in an air at the clamp, taking you all the way. Sana smiles at the wince Dahyun makes, holding her face when you pull back, slowly thrusting halfway, the tightness leaving you speechless.
That very moment where you’re sinking - where you don’t even have to say anything. (Because Dahyun was just made to take your cock that doesn’t feel undeserving at all.) Her ass is spread out, cunt gripping the whole fucking length while she buries her head into Sana’s neck. You could also hear a hush come from Sana’s lips while you’re still fixated on your cock disappearing inside of Dahyun.
“Just-” Dahyun sputters, the octave in her voice going up pitch by pitch, fucking her soaking hole while you’re pushing everything to the possible ability you can, where you can feel the clench around your head, sobbing, hands over the dough of her ass, getting her cock drunk until you senselessly empty yourself inside her.
“Harder,” Sana chides, tongue on the neck while she’s the supporting beam of the shaking girl laying on top of her. “I want her to be broken in two.”
So you keep pounding, this familiar angle with your hips to where Dahyun has died before, shrieking while she feels like she’s floating in her head. When you see her head move over to the side, her profile in view, you’re blown away by the fade of her blush, Sana’s hand underneath to her chin, her back arched to the highest point she could possibly have it in, pistoning yourself in like it wasn’t the daily routine as it is, not ever realizing that it would never stop being like this.
When her moans reach the apex, you could see Dahyun mouthing something, a wobbling lip hindering for her to even say the words properly - Baby, I’m gonna fucking– cum so hard on your-
One final push in, and her entire lower half shakes, a dam finally cracking under the pressure.
Sana’s just there to admire the artwork of her face, while reassuring that everything will be taken care of once all of this is done, a kiss to the lips while your cock continues to slowly plunge deep, cumming on your hips, the warmth too comfy to even leave. This would be great, one more sense of presence in the bed that will be a mainstay from now on.
“Look at you doing so well for him,” Sana says, and she’s still laughing, drunk on the sounds of Dahyun while her half-lidded eyes are telling a different tale. “You’ve missed his big fucking cock, fitting so perfectly inside you, hmm? Look at how much you creamed all over him, ugh, filthy.”
Dahyun just shudders while you’re massaging her inner thigh, pulling the head of your cock out of her fucked pussy, slapping the head agasint the sensitive clit, and you chuckle lightly at the small twitches she makes every hit that she feels; once, twice, thrice, and even the fourth.
“Was that enough to satisfy you?” you ask, learning over to get your face in between the two pretty girls, getting a whiff of your wife’s hair while Sana’s quick to plant her lips on the cuff of your ear, bold, trying to hide how badly she wants the next go at you railing her. “Could you take more tries before your cunt gets my load all up inside of you?”
“She’s not gonna answer that for you right away.” Sana sliding herself down, her fingers fluttering around your shaft. She does these circular motions alongside the skin that had your head sideways the other day back on the couch, realizing how sterile you were at being delicately handled, she’ll play that to her advantage, and she always finds something new.
“Now that you had your fill with her,” she continues on with this while showering Dahyun with peppered kisses across her breasts. “Don’t you think I should have a go? Make you throb to the point where I get to feel the teeny bits of precum before you burst?”
“Sana, that’s not nice.” you tell her, lightly tapping Dahyun’s waist, leaning over to the nook of her neck to whisper something. Have her something to do while keeping Sana’s mouth occupied, because I hate how she doesn’t shut up about things like these. And Dahyun follows along, still coming down on her high, shimmying her way up on her knees and when she finally hovers over Sana’s face, you see the quick peek of her tongue tip in preparation while your fingers are working fast around Sana’s thighs, pulling her towards you and priming Dahyun for the perfect angle.
“Should we shut this little slut up, honey?’ Dahyun asks, biting her lip at you while you slapping your cock along Sana’s folds, to an amount enough for her to hide the growl coming out of her mouth. “I think she’s a little too antsy for the both of us.”
“Ladies first,” you smirk, providing the common courtesy, dipping your cockhead in before backing out, catching the small ‘fuck’ being let out by Sana. Dahyun takes the quick moment of weakness as an opportunity to finally sit on her face, her hand also quick to rub her clit while the woman’s open mouth on her pussy starts to tear away at the threads, and you know Sana well enough to describe the feelings.
It’s listed as this: tight, so fucking tight to the point that it should be considered to a world class delicacy that’s not meant to be enjoyed leisurely.
That sharp draw of air through the thin lines of your teeth, finding that leverage into her cunt, easing into her, trying not to get ahead of yourself when she’s finally flush with your hips. You could hear the hum of satisfaction through Dahyun, her hand gripping Sana’s hairs between her legs, lightly grinding her cunt over her wet, hot mouth.
“Right there, yeah, there we go.” How your cock stretches alongside the walls, spreading her apart. It’s always a real show to keep both eyes open on, no quarter of the inch left behind. Sana would be this tornado that swoops in places, taking people off their feet. In trade for that, she offers a grace with her person - a vibe that comes off as rich, tied to materialism, to be used as a personal fucktoy when the time is right, and that instance of ‘time’ happens to be legitimately, every time.
You could take days to figure out how you managed to get in this position. It’ll only take you hours, minutes; hell, maybe even less than a few milliseconds to wrap your head around the fact of how full you make Sana with your cock, providing the same structure of strokes, slowly building up pace like with Dahyun a few minutes ago.
“How’s he feeling, Sana? Does he fill you up well like he said that he would?” Dahyun finally says, hair curtaining the right side of her face while Sana’s eyes can only look up while her mouth works her pussy again. The gluttal sounds of moans and chokes and smacks of Sana’s lips on Dahyun’s other lips, the only thing that she can do while you’re splitting Sana apart, her also doing some small movements so that she could fuck herself back onto your cock.
Dahyun pulls her hips up for Sana to speak, “Oh baby, it’s fucking me so deep. Want him - want daddy to fuck this pretty pussy–all for him.”
“Is that something you can do…fuck her cunt the same way you fucked my cunt?”
This takes a pause, flashing a gaze to Dahyun while you could feel the muscles flex in Sana’s legs and hips, driving yourself into her continuously, keeping a rhythm in check. The demand that’s being proposed doesn’t even register in your mind and Dahyun does this swift motion of doing a complete one-eighty of her hips, pressing her ass down onto Sana’s forehead, leaning over with a hand onto her waist while the other pulls your face in with her small fingers. You’ll have to pay attention, because her lips are quick to keep you from snapping out of Sana’s perfect pussy.
“What are you asking me to–”
“I want you–” one kiss to get you drunk from Dahyun, “to fuck her properly–” another kiss to keep focus, “until she cums–” nothing wrong with having a third kiss, “all over this perfect cock.”
Your hand is quick to reach across for Dahyun’s breast, kneading it in a way that she knows that she’s still yours, her eyes flickering down to the sight of your cock sinking back into Sana’s blown cunt, floating a pair of fingers on the clit, watching as you tear her apart, not wanting to shy or look away herself.
Sana’s quick to pull her face off of Dahyun’s ass, gasping for air before sweeping the flat of her tongue across her pussy once again, “So fucking perfect for me, daddy, please, don’t stop,” is what she says to you while you can see her legs go limp slightly from the sides.
The creaks of your lofted bed frame are singing at the shift of movement between the bedsheets and pillows, pulling yourself (with Sana inside still) up to the edge, planting both of your knees when you bottom yourself a little bit more deeper. You notice the image of Sana’s face fucked out, how she’s blushing, twisting her head to the right with her eyes closed, Dahyun manages to stave off to the side, taking a momentary break while you carry on with teasing Sana’s swollen clit, getting a few whines, moving her head against the sheets in a brief tantrum.
“Had enough yet?” you had the frame of asking, smiling alongside the line of Sana’s neck while the temporary angle of your cock just nudges that one spot you’ve managed to hit a couple times, the symphony of Sana’s little ‘oh’s’ when a small move of the hips just has Sana’s cunt clenching the head of your cock to send you gasping as well.
“Stop - stop with the questions,” she huffs, body stiffening before the wave of relaxation when you’re leaving more pretty bruises along the drawn canvas of her middle, licking up the deserved sweat of your hard work that’s also staining the sheets, along with the soaking that’s between your legs and hers.
You get a command, Sana looks up in a panic when Dahyun tells you to start fucking her harder, lifting the small of her back to get her horizontal with the mattress.
The levels just only seem to go up higher than then; Sana’s eyes being pulled down and rolled back. She knows you’re hitting the right spot, because of how she’s lightly pulling her legs up, you doing most of the support when she’s drawing these hitches of air, shuddering all over your waist while you push her beyond that edge. Her head is doing this bobbing motion when you slide with that upstroke, and you could feel the drag of her nails digging into your forearms that would seem accidental in another circumstance.
Dahyun plays spectator, catching her breath, hand toying between her thighs while you’re fucking the girl beneath you into a spilled puddle all over your lap.
“Are you seriously getting off without my help?” you ask, effortlessly gliding into the folds of Sana’s cunt. “Touching yourself while your best friend is taking my cock, sweetie? God, look at her, she’s wrecked.”
Sana pulls you in with little strength she has left, able to get her arms around your neck and shoulders, tightening that pull even more against you.
“Want you to cum,” she pleads, “I want you to cum inside and just, fuck, you don’t–” It’s miserable, hopeless, the power you have to just do exactly that with the way both Dahyun and Sana are both moaning and panting and just straight up rubbing both of their swollen clits while the length of your cock is still drowning in one of them.
It’s how you do these broad strokes, slowly, strategically, a technique that you’ve perfected over the amounts of times you’ve got yourself completely fucked over, balls tapping above the pucker of Sana’s ass when pulling yourself in from the top of her thighs, a holding point while doing the best punishment of teasing you could ever do for someone like her.
(Calling Dahyun over: shut this bitch up for me, please?)
It’ll do you numbers in which: you’re still fucking Sana insanely hard still, with Dahyun’s head hovering above the present action.
Sana’s clutching on to Dahyun’s leg, pressing her eyes into the skin, not wanting to let this fantastic feeling ever end, muttering all of the lovely things that she’s told you before multiple times. You could see the tug on her lips, tilting your head at how familiar the look was because you’ve seen it the first few times at how she couldn’t believe that you’d feel this good inside her, to get her stomach transformed into ashes and have her seeing stars. Sana’s body is “Pandora’s box’ full of lust, just waiting to be opened until you’ll give her opulence of what she needs from you, to fill her up.
“Fuck her through and through,” Dahyun orders with this hint of anger, “need to see her cum–”
“Give me your mouth, princess,” retreating from Sana’s exhausted cunt and getting Dahyun’s mouth all over you, cleaning up the mess of Sana’s slick right off of your length, stomach dipping when her throat swallows almost the entire half.
Your ears are zeroing in on the gags your wife is making on your cock, doing a double feature while her fingers are rubbing Sana’s clit to keep that ache, grasping a high ponytail with one hand, sucking away that will have you dreaming that the tension is almost tempting of spilling inside her throat right at that second. Dialing back with what little warning you have left, slipping back into the other hot warmth below her chin.
Despite the numbness clouding your brain, the obscene sounds of hums and whines tie in perfect tandem while you’re gliding back into Sana’s cunt, alternating between the tender rings of muscles, stretching around your cock in a one-two step: Dahyun’s mouth sliding and slobbering down your length, teasing Sana with your cockhead in her cunt massaging the walls around that squeezing vice.
You’re not at fault for when it happens: face red hot from within, the sound that rips through your vocal cords while your knees buck at the sensation of Sana’s ass bouncing back off the edge of the bed, and the small gyration of her hips when you’ve driven all the way to the hilt, she can sense it too.
Again, you’re not at fault for the way your cock pulsates that first second inside Sana’s sopping fuckhole, the first shots at the deepest pit where you could take it, twitching while you’re trying to save yourself from losing all of it from the first hold. Any second longer inside that lovely heat will have you rethinking your life choices up until this point.
You pull out, fist tight around your cock when you could see the lower point of your tip, giving an act of generosity firing another shot of cum inside Sana, cock out in the air where Dahyun sees the opportunity to lean in, drinking in the remaining spill that–
Scratch that, it’s not remaining, because you’re cumming everywhere.
There’s drops of white spilling from the front of her lower lips, pumping out the leaks on the flat of Sana’s stomach. Shit, you even managed to get a few globs on Dahyun’s cheek, even up to Sana’s right tit. It’s all fucked, you almost topple over on top the both of them, the arm serving as a last gasp foothold while the color drains from your face.
Dahyun pushes you up with both of her hands, staring at you with the splotches of your release slowly sliding down alongside her cheek. She’s taken aback with the load, but what she does with it–
(Well, don’t be surprised. She’s the love of your life for god’s sake.)
Two fingers skate off some of the cum off her profile, rubbing it on her lips. You draw yourself away while Dahyun helps Sana sit up on the bed, her hand quick to dip under her cunt where she picks up more of your cum that you’ve spilt inside. Sana catches on quick to lick off the cum off of Dahyun’s cheek, tongue sliding across the plane to swallow, the small ‘mms’ and audible smacks of lips colliding. Dahyun just laughs when she examines her palm, placing it underneath her mouth and Sana’s both of them licking the dribble up like two birds in a bath, washed over with sweat and slick and filthy and–
“So fucking gross,” Dahyun says, finger to the arch of Sana’s brow, wiping a wisp of hair off. “Like, are you gonna be so full of yourself–”
“Hey,” Sana tuts, “Don’t get all mad now that I’ve managed to push his buttons better than you.” She then slumps herself over Dahyun’s lap, hand massaging her waist while Dahyun leans back on her palms, crossing one leg up the edge to support her head. They both get secluded in their own little world, whispering these different sayings to each other with a soft smile at one, a scrunched nose to the other.
You manage to slot yourself to the side, next to Dahyun, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, “I thought this wasn’t a competition over me.”
The pair simply roll their eyes, Dahyun runs her fingers through Sana’s hair, unconsciously, affectionately. They’re still coming down from all the fucked out clarities while they simply - just - look. Being proven wrong wasn’t that much of a loss in itself; in fact, it was actually inviting when you’re giving them the same confused expression that has the brain questioning everything from the plain existence to whether or not this new reality was even sustainable amongst the three of you.
“We could all agree to an accord together,” Sana says enthusiastically, “like distinguished human beings- or, something like that.”
(I mean, there’s a blueprint to draw up for that extra room anyway, but you’ll get to that later.)
–
It’s during one Saturday morning, when the plates and bowls of today’s breakfast are already in the sink, you have a single carry-on duffel bag in your hand, placed on the highest step of the stairs, taking in that crisp air through your nose. Everything comes to a gentle slope, the clouds are high up in the sky, meshed up together, shielding the landscape from the beaming sun, and the time hasn’t even hit noon yet.
“I just don’t get it.” you beam, elbows on the railing while your eyes get caught up in a pair of blue jay’s gliding past the street, fascinated by the companionship of nature. Only to have your attention drawn to the awaiting car on the driveway, Dahyun’s personal chauffeur (and to this day you’re still wondering if that person even gets paid or not). “All of this trouble of having a vacation, get reeled back into working, have more time off than expected, but still decide to take up another work order again?”
Dahyun steps out the doorway, slapping your arm, leaving your face with a small wince that you play off with dead eyes. “I could call Nayeon to put in a word for Momo. If you’re making such a big deal out of it, I might as well tell them myself that I wanted more time off than need be.”
“You said that it was work related.” you tell her as the counterargument.
“But it’s not!” Sana bursts out, all smiles while you’re walking down the pathway with another bag in your hand onto the asphalt. “Such a buzzkill, as if you didn’t want the whole place to yourself to burn down. You spend wayyyy too much time up in your little office, so consider this to be punishment.”
“Where did this come from?” you ask, flustered, with arms up trying to play the innocence card.
Dahyun pulls Sana’s singular luggage from her hand and into the trunk of the car, the bag you were carrying also next to be put before a shut off of the compartment. “We’ve been planning this for sometime, and now we’ve decided to do it. Together.” She pulls up her own passport with an airline ticket shoved in between the pages. You could probably guess where they’re going, judging from the assortment of clothes that they’ve packed, it must be somewhere tropical, like Cancun or in the Bahamas, maybe even Malaysia was on the cards, but you take it with a grain of salt.
“Is this supposed to be a besties trip that I didn’t even know about until now?” you ask the two girls standing behind the car, leaning back onto the glossy material of the paint job while your arms are bridged between your chest. “I’m also assuming that this is predetermined–”
“Stop being so analytical.” Sana groans out, “You really have to think twice about what our summer plans were?”
“Maybe he just needs a few conditions.” Dahyun adds on, nudging Sana’s shoulder to which her face suddenly lights up in excitement. “Besides, he’s really good at reading between the lines, like, you know, he has a good thing for body language - go ahead, test him, I’m sure that he’ll show off like he always does.”
(It’s how you catch yourself shaking your head downwards to the Earth, hiding the grin that’s breaking on your face because Dahyun knows how well you observe your surroundings. She’s trying to play dumb at the fact that she went ahead to grab your duffel bag while getting the shower ready for yourself. You also notice that Dahyun’s driver got her roughly about ten minutes early to put your bag in the trunk and pretend that nothing ever happened. It’s cute when she gets sneaky and mischievous, because Sana will always buy into what she devises to get you stressed, a migraine pounding through the back of your head, taking it out when you have both of them moaning underneath or straddled on top of you.)
So you say: “Are there any guarantees to this if I do what you ask?”
Dahyun puts her passport out in front, shifting her thumb over to show yours underneath. You pretend to be shocked with lifted eyebrows, but you already have them figured out.
“Honey,” Sana says, blinking with her teeth peering through her smile, “I can guarantee that you've got us both.”
#twice smut#sana smut#male reader smut#kpop smut#minatozaki sana#twice sana#kpop fanfic#male reader#twice x male reader
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when you are shipped with another idol.
엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader seven hundred requested ！ established relationship ⠀⎯⠀⠀ not proof-read kissing skinship slight jealousy ( other )
heeseung would be purely flabbergasted. because, with who could his girlfriend be shipped with if it is not him？you will be able to see thirty different expressions displaying on his face in the space of ten seconds. would try to hide the tiny bubble of jealousy that grows inside of him. “it was me who gave you this beanie, pft,” he’d mutter under his breath while he reads the freshly aired article your manager sent to you. you would have reassure him, “it’ll go away quickly, don’t worry, bub” and maybe with a few kisses— he would forget about it quickly enough.
jay would only give you a soft and weirdly understanding smile as you tell him that fans are spamming another idol’s name in your lives. they claim that you would look cute together and you try your best to ignore them. the truth is, he would know; he would watch your live regularly. would not mind that much though, as he would not be the jealous type. still, his still so sweet demeanor would throw you off, “you don’t care?” you would ask, only slight shock written on your face. “do i need to?” he would ask, giving you a peck, “i know you are my girl,”
jake would sulk immediately. would never think that you would be shipped, loved to be seen, with someone who isn’t him. would not try to hide his jealousy at all — rather opting for a overdramatic pout that just goes with his personality so well. “do you think he is cuter ..？be honest,” he would question you, the only response he would get would be a confused look that he would straight up take for a ‘yes’. you would have to shower him in compliments while gently stroking his hair until he becomes red and hide his shy face in the crook of your neck.
sunghoon would develop a one sided dislike for the, unlucky (in that case, because your boyfriend would think that they are really lucky) idol you get shipped with. would shoot the said idol some glares that would make cold sweat appear, would slightly roll his eyes whenever that that idol talks and would fight the urge to start a war if they are a bit too close to you for his liking. you would definitely make fun of him for it, “you know it’s really all in your head right,” you would ask him, and he would just mumble while making himself comfortable on your chest.
sunoo would feel offended, almost cheated on by your fans. would hide it well, to anyone else but not to you, with a wide smile when you ask him what is wrong. you would try to scoot over his shoulder discreetly, eyeing a tweet about you and, allegedly, another idol caught dating— knowing who it really is. “you know it’s you, right?” you would giggle in his ear and he would jump, holding his heart as you scared him. would claim that he does, still pouting, nonetheless; a few poke on his soft cheeks would make him forget about it.
jungwon would be confused. would have his inexistant comprehension of the situation written all over his face. would raise his eyebrows while he watches a slideshow of you and an unknown’s ‘dating proofs’. ridiculously enough, after scrolling through the hashtag of the freshly created couple, it would convince him as well at some point. “w-woah, these are really convincing,” he would mutter, putting his phone down to stop whatever is going on. “you are only dating me, right?” he would ask in your ear, scooting over you, wrapping his arm around your waist.
riki would not like that, at all. “which one is cooler,” showing you his phone, he would interrogate you. “him or me?” your gaze would be full of endeared annoyance and fondness. would tilt his head to the side, mirroring you and waiting for you to answer his question. “you are so cute,” you would tell him, cupping his head in your hands. would have to lean a bit towards you as he is taller. the look in your eyes would quickly take over his mind— forgetting the question he asked a few seconds ago. “you will always be my only choice,” then he would smile when you kiss his nose.
this was really fun to write ! >_<
#⠀ᕱ⑅ᕱ ⠀𝓁ove𝓁etters。#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen drabbles#enhypen imagines#enhypen reactions#enhypen scenarios#enhypen headcanons#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#enhypen x reader#enha fluff#enha drabble#enha imagines#enha reactions#enha scenarios#enha headcanons#enha soft hours#enha soft thoughts#enha x reader#heeseung fluff#jay fluff#jongseong fluff#jake fluff#jaeyun fluff#sunghoon fluff#sunoo fluff#jungwon fluff#niki fluff#riki fluff
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐚 [gojo satoru]
synopsis: you got married to gojo satoru at the edge of a frozen lake in summer.
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
warnings/tags: heavy angst, a love that’s TOO LITTLE TOO LATE if one can even call that a tag, unrequited love (kinda).
Marriage is a golden ring on a chain whose beginning is a single glance between two unsuspecting souls that ends with eternity.
Twelve years. You’ve loved him through twelve springs. It’s bittersweet to think how a person could give another their youth for free. But then again, the only things that you truly keep are the things you give away. That’s just life, isn’t it? And besides, you take a step towards the blue peony littered aisle with a wistful smile on your face as you picture a certain arctic-haired man standing at the other end, when it comes to matters of the heart, keeping ledgers of the love you give and the love you receive is a futile effort.
You should probably put that in your vows later. But ah, what did it matter? Satoru’s probably just gonna wing it later, arguing that expressions of love should be light-hearted and candid much like the love you share.
“Y/N-chan~!” He steps in front of you, his tall form towering over you as he catches you by the student lounge’s vending machine. Shoko smirks behind you, pulling Suguru ahead of you to leave the two of you alone. She nudges you forward and you cast her a betrayed look to which she only replies with an innocent shrug. It’s common knowledge to everyone in Tokyo Jujutsu High how you feel about the Gojo clan’s illustrious little starlet.
Well, it was common knowledge to everyone except Satoru Gojo.
And you don’t know if you find that comforting or saddening.
Comforting that he wouldn’t find out about your feelings from someone else, though you’re still working up the courage to fess up, you wholeheartedly believe that this is something he should hear from you and you alone. Saddening that maybe the reason he’s been all blissfully ignorant of how your breath becomes shallow whenever he’s around you is he’s actually already aware of your feelings towards him and he’s only deflecting it.
“We’ll go ahead, Y/N,” Shoko says in a sing-song voice, taking your cursed tool from you. “Come see me if you have any injuries!”
“But if it’s a broken heart, she probably can’t fix it,” Suguru chimes in, winking at Satoru as if to say: ‘Go talk to her.’ before turning to follow his girlfriend.
A hush falls between you and Satoru, unspoken words swirling around the two of you like a symphony of longing. Both of you seem to be saying the same thing:
Should I tell her?
Should I tell him?
What would she say?
Would he leave?
If the truth is meant to set you free, then he is your jailer. Why is he content with never uttering those words aloud? Why are you so eager to stay in the hedge maze of your mind, seeking his shadow at every corner? This was a tiring game of hide and seek.
But Satoru is completely fine with letting it drag on if it meant he’d never risk losing you.
And you were fine with that too. You were fine being a prisoner to your truth as long as he was with you in this jail cell. You were fine.
Whatever fine means.
“Wanna go to the arcade?” Satoru looks at you with a shimmering bittersweet look in his eyes.
You smile and a breathy laugh falls from your lips causing his face to light up even more.
“That depends, you gonna let me win?”
“Never.”
“Y/N! There you are.”
You turn around to see an older Shoko, her youthful bob cut having outgrown its juvenile flare. She looks out of breath, she must have run around the venue looking for you and judging from the way she keeps glancing at her watch, and the exasperated look she was throwing your way at the sight of you still in your silk robe, you needed to get moving.
But your feet remain planted in the middle of the empty aisle, your gaze trained on the arch.
“You feeling okay?” Shoko asks, her hand finding yours in a tender display of solidarity. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know.”
You flash her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I know. Just…deep in thought.”
“Yeah.”
Weddings are always so beautiful, you think to yourself as Shoko steps back giving you some space as you contemplate the day ahead. Your fingers trace one of the satin linens adorning the trellises much like your heart traces the contours of a love too delicate to verbalize, too powerful to ignore. Your gaze dances over the elegant arrangements of blue, white and gray, the scent of grapefruit-quince adorning the air, mixing with the scent of peonies, jasmines and white musk.
Everything here speaks of the imminent union of two souls finding their way to each other. And how comforting it is to know that no matter where you wander, all paths inevitably lead to Satoru Gojo. And you have your drunk cartographer heart to thank for that.
“He loves you,” Shoko finally says, catching your wrist to bring you over to the gazebo to get touched up.
“…I know.”
You look back at the empty aisle, with all but one question in your mind.
What happens when simply knowing is no longer enough?
“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again with my sunglasses off?”
You nearly choke on your yogurt drink when you see yet another stunningly familiar light blue sticky note on your desk. Satoru fucking Gojo is going to be the death of you one day. Your touch grazes over the hastily scribbled note, a small smile playing at your lips as you take out a white pad of sticky notes from your school bag. After collecting your thoughts, you decide to play along with his little game, your heart fluttering when you realize that this back and forth could actually be considered flirting.
“There’s no such thing as love at first sight. And sorry, pretty boys like you aren’t exactly my type.”
Satoru finds the white sticky note plastered on his stool in Jujutsu Tech’s science lab. Despite the playful jab in your reply, Satoru is hyperfixated on the fact that you just called him pretty. Did you really mean it? He bites the inside of his cheek being careful not to grin too much in fear of Suguru catching wind of what’s happening — the strongest sorcerer of this generation being caught off-guard by his little crush? Detestable!
“You think I’m pretty? ;) I knew it.”
Shoko looks at you funnily, you’re practically red as a tomato with how you’re fuming from the ears and sputtering about how ridiculous Satoru is being. “He’s just so…so…!”
“You really should work on finishing your sentences now~”
You are interrupted at the sight Satoru practically hopping down the steps leading to the training field with a convenience store bag tucked under his arm and you sigh exasperatedly, turning away as if he was a bug that’s hovering over your ear that you really shouldn’t be paying attention to. All of his six foot two form plops down next to you and you jump when he presses a cold ice cream bar to your cheek.
“You’re awfully generous today, Satoru,” you smirk, accepting and lifting the ice cream bar in silent gratitude, suppressing the blush creeping onto your cheeks.
Satoru blushes himself, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Shit, say something, Satoru thinks to himself. Was he being too obvious? Did you somehow piece it together now that he has feelings for you?
In his internal dilemma, Satoru settles for undermining the deliberate gesture.
“I only needed two more stickers to get this really neat toy,” Satoru explains, reaching into the convenience store bag and pulling out his new tamagotchi. “Pretty worth it, I would say. The one I saw in Akihabara is being sold for 7500 yen, but that’s the angelgotch variety, so I kinda get the whole roadside robbery thing.”
Of course, he steered the conversation elsewhere. You’re not even surprised at this point that he’ll always only stay at the surface when he treads these long drawn out conversations with you, too afraid to say anything more — do anything more — than what was necessary as your friend.
Keyword: friend.
He had no obligation to you other than being your friend. And you don’t blame him. You’re not angry at him that he’s only willing to stay in shallow water with you, it’s just…
“Hey, I have to go, Yaga’s calling me.” Satoru casually interrupts your train of heartbroken thoughts, but you do not miss the unease in his voice, he almost sounds sorry that he has to bail again.
But you already send him off with a reluctant thumbs up. As you look at his retreating form, he stops for a bit at the stone tori gate, his head bowed in thought, you don’t know why you held your breath. He reaches into his pocket, but thinks better of it, and he paces two hesitant steps forward.
Then, he looks back to meet your eyes from afar.
And his heart clenches in a mixture of affection and exasperation when you are the first to blushingly look away.
The ten feet separating the two of you is very reminiscent of how you began: running in opposite directions to outdo the other in your competition to see who can act that they care less, placing more distance between your flustered hearts. Satoru gazes at you as if he’s seen the divine incarnated into a single beautiful being. He wipes a tear from his eye, sniffing momentarily, watching you gracefully float down the aisle with an equally smitten expression on your features.
Clutching the bouquet in your hands, you don’t break eye contact and everything seems to unfold like a motion picture before your very eyes, your and Satoru’s life together in vivid cinematography: your first dance later tonight, your first trip out of the country together for your honeymoon, your first time, your first year, your first child. Everything. You’ve imagined Satoru to be your first in everything. And as you make your way to the aisle, tears glistening in both your orbs, you stop to meet in the middle, the two of you standing on fate’s edge together.
He casts you a look, and you offer him a melancholic smile.
This was it.
…
…
…
…
The doors open and his bride arrives, and you move to the side, taking your place next to Shoko, painfully leaving the space you and Satoru briefly shared, a space that was never meant for you in the first place.
Which begs the question again: what happens when knowing is no longer enough?
Or is it…the two of you never knew at all how the other felt?
No, you and Shoko watch as Satoru stares at you from his peripheral, his heart fragmenting into irreparable pieces at each step his bride makes towards him.
Should I tell her?
Should I tell him?
What would she say?
Would he leave?
The answer is clear now. He wouldn’t have left. Things were just left unsaid, never admitted — the words that you longed to hear from one another never fell from your lips. Not once in the twelve years you secretly held him in your heart. And thus, fate then decreed that love is for the brave, and not for cowardly souls like you and Satoru Gojo.
And with whatever strength you have left, uncaring if this would cause you to look scandalous: a bridesmaid going after the groom, you mouth the words: “I love you.”
A pained smile appears on his lips, an allegory to the goofy grins he used to flash you when you two were young, and he nods, tears in his eyes.
This was twelve years too late. But it’s better than never.
“I knew it.”
#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo satoru#gojo x reader angst#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you angst#jjk x you#jjk angst#jjk x reader angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader angst#jujutsu kaisen x you angst#jjk x you angst#gojo satoru x reader angst#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo angst#gojo satoru x y/n angst#gojo satoru x you angst#gojo satoru angst#gojo headcanons#gojo satoru headcanons#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk gojo#jjk x y/n#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk imagines
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my love is mine, all mine (pt 2)
summary: more glimpses of your relationship with jude!
pairing: jude bellingham x reader
a/n: i’m having too much fun writing these scenarios lol
~one~
you rarely ever get into arguments with jude but when it does happen, it’s terrible on everyone’s part. this particular moment was about him not spending enough time with you.
“so you’re saying i can’t hangout with my friends? because that’s what it’s sounding like.”
“jude, that’s not what i’m saying! i’m just saying that it would be nice to have a day with just us. i feel like i’m left on a back burner right now.”
“we do hangout. i mean, i’m here right now but you wanna spend the time arguing!”
“tell me the last time we had a day to ourselves! please enlighten me,” you were beyond frustrated and your head was hurting from all the yelling.
“stop being so fucking clingy. i see you at home every night! we don’t need to be together 24/7.”
you felt your heart throbbing from the pain of hearing those words. is it really such a crime to want quality time with someone you love? between his training sessions and your job, there hasn’t been much alone time.
“okay. my apologies for wanting my boyfriend here with me. i won’t ask again,” you took a step back, looking down to possibly stop the tears. it didn’t work. the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.
jude instantly regretted saying that. he understood completely where you were coming from but the stubbornness in him clouded his judgement.
“baby, i’m-“
“i don’t wanna talk to you jude.”
-
it’s been hours since he last saw you. jude already made the guest room into his bed for the night and found himself restless. he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else but he couldn’t sleep without you near. even if you guys weren’t cuddling, at least his hand could be on you in some way. so he tossed and turned until he had enough.
jude makes his way to the room door, raising his hand to knock when the door swings open. it startles the both of you. leaving you to stare at each other in silence. jude noticed the dry tear streaks that laid on the apple of your cheeks. it made him feel worse.
“you really hurt-“
“i’m sorry bab-“
speaking at the same time wasn’t uncommon for you two, causing the both of you to let out a breathy laugh.
“you can go first honey,” his light whisper fell into the air as if he were too scared to talk any louder.
“jude, you really hurt my feelings earlier. i just wanted to spend time with you and you made it seem like i was asking for a million dollars or something bigger. i didn’t feel heard during our conversation but unfortunately i can’t sleep without you. so i was coming to drag you to bed even though i’m still very mad at you.”
“baby i’m sorry. i’m so sorry for hurting your feelings. i want you to know that i don’t mean it. hell, everyone knows i’m the clingy one! you’re the love of my life and i would spend days mending whatever hurt i caused,” his hands came to rest on your cheeks, fingers softly swiping at the dry tear stains.
“can we go to bed now? i’m exhausted and we can finish talking in the morning,” jude nods in response to you and kisses your nose.
“yeah, let’s go to bed m’love.”
~two~
“hey babe!”
jude looks up from his ipad upon hearing your voice through the phone. he was in germany for match and of course, he asked you to go with him. saying something along the lines of being his good luck charm. you couldn’t originally get the off time from your job.
“i miss you so much.”
“jude, baby you’ve been gone for like two days.”
“and your point is?”
“okay, whatever you say. anyways, i got a package for ya! just open the door.”
the boy failed to realize how close your face was in the camera and how you whispered. you had surprised him by coming to germany, being that your boss changed her mind and let you go. it wasn’t like you asked for off time a lot anyways.
“what?”
“can you open the door baby?”
jude jumps off the bed and practically leaps to the door. swinging it open to find you with a toothy smile. he rushes to hug you, bending down to your hight and pulling you into his arms.
“you said you couldn’t come!”
“surprise! my boss decided to let me take the time off last minute. i found the first flight here.”
“how’d you get to the hotel? i would’ve picked you up.”
“it wouldn’t have been a surprise then.”
he detaches himself from you to grab your bag, then grabbing your hand, walking you inside. you take a seat on the couch that was sitting in the room and smiled as your boyfriend put your bag next to his.
“i can’t believe you’re here.”
“well believe it,” jude sat next to you and began pressing kisses into whatever inch of skin he could get to.
“babe relax,” you say, in between giggles as he continued his work down to your neck. only getting off you when you pushed his shoulder back.
“i just missed you.”
“it’s been two days!”
“so what.”
~three~
you’ve become familiar with jude being your passenger princess. you never minded, it was just nice having someone to drive with. so, you took him on another one of your side quests. thrifting.
“i hope i find something good this time. last time we went, it was a bunch of bullshit.”
“i’m kinda hoping i see something i like,” you gasp into response to him, quickly looking at him and then looking back at the road.
“woah, thee jude bellingham is interested in thrifting?”
“oh come off it.”
“i’m just saying! i literally never heard you say anything like that. just making sure my ears heard correctly,” you give him a teasing smile.
“i will jump into oncoming traffic.”
“no you won’t.”
“i swear i will.”
“i’m calling your bluff.”
the silence in the car became loud as you both tested one another.
“no i won’t.”
“ha! i knew it.”
“whatever, drive faster loser. all the good stuff are gonna be gone.”
~four~
you wake up finding the bed empty. jude’s side is made up, totally not uncommon. you figured he was at training and got out of bed to get something to eat. as you walked to the kitchen, you find your boyfriend with his bare back towards you.
“good morning darling,” he turns his head to face you with a small smile.
“good morning. what’s all this?”
“i wanted to cook for you! training was canceled today because of a family emergency. i was gonna surprise you in bed but of course you had to wake up early.”
“that’s very sweet of you,” you make your way towards him and wrap your arms around his waist. pressing your front into his back, hugging him as tight as you could. you leaned up to kiss the back of his shoulder blade before stepping away.
“let’s spend the day inside.”
“are you sure jude? i know today is my off day but you don’t have to stay in with me.”
“i want to.”
jude plates the food and sits it on the dining room table. you follow close behind and go to grab your chair. instead, jude pulls out your chair for you. pushing you in before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. sitting down next to you, you both began to eat. a comfortable silence fills the room as you both ate. his free hand resting on your thigh, caressing the skin beneath his fingers.
“i love you so much. thank you for this.”
“you shouldn’t have to thank me. i’m your boyfriend, it’s a job of mine to make sure you’re feeling loved at all times.”
“trust me, i feel all the love right now.”
“it still wouldn’t be enough to express how much i truly am in love with you darling.”
“don’t get sappy on me bellingham,” you teased, watching his face attempt to hide a smile.
“oh we wouldn’t want that,” he plays along and kisses your cheek, making you both laugh in the process.
#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham angst
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The Cost of Flesh
18+ 4.9k the ghoul x f!reader. gif credit.
dirty talk, vaginal fingering, clothed/naked, finger sucking, grinding on a cowboy boot, cooper's busted anatomy forces him to get creative, body worship, lightly established dynamic, surprisingly sentimental.
a prompt from @tearueful that got wildly out of hand. thank you, friend! 🖤
When what starts off as a purely sexual arrangement with the Waste's most notorious bounty hunter–the ghoul–gradually grows into a living, breathing love, you're both forced to confront the inevitable humanity that comes with sharing your body with another.
There’s a living myth that walks the wastes, a figure known exclusively as the ghoul. He’s enigmatic, a force of nature that declares himself to the world with his every step. If you're unaware of sharing a room with him, it’s likely because he’s hunting you, in which case it’s not a matter of if he catches you, but when.
Naturally, it was the talk of the town when he made a regular haunt out of the saloon you worked in.
He watched you serve drinks all evening, his gaze a physical thing upon you. Normally you expected a degree of harassment from clientele, raiders and the like often rolling through, but it was as though everyone else sensed his attention on you as much as you did. You could tell from the tilted angle of the wide brim of his hat when he was listening to your conversations.
It was as eerie as it was intriguing. You couldn’t fathom a bounty on your head, so what did he want?
You would soon be ensnared by him, but not for a bounty. It was for pleasure. Your pleasure.
“Come upstairs with me,” He murmured in your ear, standing close behind you, a gloved knuckle rolling up your spine. “Y’ain’t gatta do nothin’. I won’t hurt’cha none. Just wanna hear a pretty bird sing.”
You shivered, caught unaware. You never even heard his approach, even though the din of the bar had quieted in the late evening.
“I’m not for sale,” you replied, testing the water. He was close enough that you felt him, but not so close you were pinned. You could move if you wanted to.
“I ain’t buyin’,” he gave back. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. “But I’ll make it worth y’while.”
The gravel grit of his voice was nearly drowned out by the drumming of your own pulse in your ears. To this day, you don’t know what possessed you to agree, but you did. He took your hand in his, the leather of his glove soft with wear, and led you away from the bar. The next thing you knew, he was stripping you bare in one of the dark rooms above the bar.
The ceremony with which he undressed you had felt disconcertingly like meal prep. He tied your hands above your head, and your heart thundered with the understanding that there was nothing to stop him from devouring you alive where you lay sprawled out on the bed.
By the time his gloved hands were dragging away your underwear, you felt dizzy with the heady mix of arousal and fear, an unquiet ache thrumming between your thighs. Your only meager assurance was that of all the legends you’d heard of the ghoul, seducing and eating barmaids wasn’t among them.
And yet devour you he did. You were hooked from that very first wet, hot slide of his tongue against your clit. He spent hours with you that night, mapping your body with his tongue, your scars and blemishes serving as waypoints and constellations. He nipped and sucked until dark marks blossomed under his tongue, and he relished those spots more than any other.
He never took off more than his gloves, and he never let you touch him. He never fucked you. He brought you to climax with his mouth and his hands so many times you lost track of the number. All you could do was writhe and moan your pleasure. He didn’t stop until those moans turned to sobs, until you begged him to. After that, he cut your binds loose and left you a mess on the bed, aching and used.
You laid there for a long time, thinking you would never see him again.
The ghoul returned not a week later.
He wasn’t subtle about what he wanted from you, beckoning you from across the bar with a crook of two fingers. You felt your knees weaken with the memory of those same fingers in your mouth, your cunt, that hand pinning you by your throat to feel your cries against his palm. He stared at you from beneath the brim of his hat, cocked his head. You nodded, and his eyes flashed.
Hungry.
You didn’t learn his name until your third encounter. He whispered it in your ear.
“Now scream it for me, sweetheart.”
You did.
The two of you would meet several more times. He would stay a little longer after each session, and bit by bit, you would come to understand the man beyond the ghoul. He doesn’t talk about himself, and he doesn’t ask anything of your life in turn, but he reveals himself in pieces nonetheless. Beneath the ruthless pragmatism of his legendary persona, you find the manners of a shockingly tender gentleman lurking.
He’s always unhurried in disrobing you, devoted to the task at hand: taking you apart piece by piece. He treats each article of frayed clothing like a piece of paper that might tear if he pulls too hard. He makes the process of being undressed in and of itself feel like sex, every move intentionally sensual.
For you, the experience ranges from thrilling to maddening depending on your mood that day. He never heeds you, always keen to take his time regardless of your impatience. He takes a particular kind of enjoyment in your body, the likes of which you’ve never known. You’re certain he knows it better than you do at this point, and yet he’s never laid himself bare to you. Never let you bring him the kind of pleasure he brings you.
He’s never kissed you.
“Please. I wanna touch you, too,” you tell breathlessly, knelt between his legs, naked as sin. His focus breaks, gaze snapping to yours. You lick your lips, relishing the rare feeling of catching him off guard. You slide your hands up his thighs, inching towards his groin. “Taste you. Make you twist. When’re you gonna let me, huh?”
He catches your wrists as quickly as a viper strikes, holding you still for a long, tense moment. You hold his gaze without any of the fear or reservation you’d felt that first day.
Despite the warmth that’s grown between you in the time since that first night, you’re uncertain of what exactly the two of you are now. It would be romantic to think of this feeling in your chest as love. Certainly it is intimacy. Familiarity. What is love if not consistency? Perhaps it’s like masonry. Steel against stone, and the conscious choice to change something as immutable as solid rock.
For as long as he chooses to come back to you, to find his pleasure in you, is that not love? If it isn’t, it might just be the closest you’ve ever come to it.
Dumbstruck for a moment by the tenderness in your gaze, Cooper’s own drops to your hand, lifting it to his mouth. His grip is tight, but not painful. As he does with everything else, he takes his time answering.
“Won’t do much good, darlin’,” he says, folding your hands wrist over wrist. You perk up. He’s never given a proper explanation for why he seems to have no interest in your reciprocation. From his belt, he withdraws a length of rope and begins encircling your wrists. You allow it, the ritual a familiar one. “Plumbing’s long busted, but that don’t mean I don’t enjoy myself. Enjoy you.”
Like the final piece of a puzzle falling in place, understanding dawns. His initial use of you drops perfectly into context. It was like you were more an object to him than a person, a vessel for him to exact sensation upon. You understand now that that’s exactly what you were. Be it the radiation or the myriad of drugs he takes to keep the degeneration at bay, it’s likely just one more piece of him the Wasteland has stolen.
“Oh.”
“Disappointed?” He asks, fastening the rope with a sharp tug that shoots a hot throb between your thighs. If he’s apprehensive about your answer, he hides it well. If they still made movies, he’d make for a fine actor.
You pause, giving the question the thought it deserves. “Not exactly. Maybe a bit,” you say, struggling to articulate the feeling. “Kind of relieved, though. I didn’t know if you couldn’t, or just didn’t want to,” you admit, leaning into it when he brings his palm to the side of your face. Your lips part automatically for the brush of his thumb along them. “I just want to do more.”
Cooper’s gaze softens, the line of his mouth twitching in what almost looks like a smile before it’s tampered by a profound sense of sadness. However, it disappears as quickly as the smile that nearly was. His expression smooths back out into controlled focus.
“So do more,” he says in that molasses drawl, thick and sweet. It could be your imagination, but his voice sounds warmer than it did a moment ago. “Put on a show for me.” He widens the spread of your legs with the press of his boot to your inner thigh. “I got plenty ‘a things for you t’ride.”
He lifts the worn leather to the wet heat gathering between your thighs and you shudder, lashes fluttering. His boot sinks back to the ground and you follow it, grinding down against the leather with a soft sigh of pleasure. He hooks his fingers through the tether around your wrists and draws you forward by it, his knee pressing between your breasts, your bound hands resting on his thigh.
“Don’t take much t’get you moanin’, do it, sweetie?” He baits, mouth curved in a crooked smile. You roll your hips with a soft keen, shaking your head. You were already tingling all over from the slow way he’d undressed you, and now that ache is growing rapidly into thrumming need. He whistles lowly. “All that noise for a li’l friction.”
He bucks his boot against your cunt, wringing a cry out of you. You screw your eyes shut, clutching at his pant leg while you roll your hips, embarrassed by how right he is. Everything he does is electrifying, and his honied voice in your ears helps turn the curve of his boot into the most exquisite touch you’ve ever known.
With his teeth, Cooper tugs off his glove and touches your cheek with warm, rough fingers. His bare thumb hooks your bottom lip, easing it open until you taste the salt of his skin pressing down on your tongue. “Or just didn’t want to…” He echoes through a frayed laugh, sounding equal parts amused and wistful at your words on his tongue. “Y’got no idea what I’d do to this sweet mouth if I could.” He presses his thumb deeper, watching with dark eyes as you start to suck. “What I’d give t’see how pretty you cry, chokin’ on my cock.”
He paints such a pretty picture that you long for it, too. Releasing his thumb with a breathy sound, you open your mouth. “More,” you say, your breaths shallow. “I want more.”
His own chest is heaving with each breath, his tongue caught between his teeth. He slips two fingers into your mouth, pushing them all the way to the knuckle. You both moan with it, pressure creeping slowly up your spine. He rocks his fingers in and out, and you start to match his pace, grinding against his boot as fast as his fingers fuck your mouth.
Catching on, he kicks his pace up a notch, captivated by the pull of your lips, the shimmer of your saliva on his weathered skin. You can see it in his eyes, how he loses himself in your pleasure as if it’s his own, filling in the gaps with faded memories. He pushes in a third finger, teeth raking over his bottom lip. You push your tongue between them, over them, sucking and lapping as if it really is his cock in your mouth.
“Fuck, darlin’,” he hisses, pulling sharply on your bindings. You make a noise around his fingers, so close to the peak of release that your lungs begin to seize, throat quieting. It’s pure agony when Cooper abruptly hauls you up onto your knees, halting your ascension. “C’mere,” he growls, all grit and throaty need. His fingers slip from your mouth and he manhandles you up into his lap, bringing you into a straddle over him, your bound wrists thrown over the back of his neck.
The same fingers he had halfway down your throat now move between your thighs, pressing into your slick, yielding body with two wet fingers in one deep push. You groan, the burning ache of it so good your eyes roll back. His free hand skirts up the length of your torso to the underside of your breast, kneading soft flesh with a rough hand. Then, so quick all you can do is gasp, he pushes the weight of it upward, meeting pearl-soft skin with lips, tongue and teeth.
All the while his fingers sink deeper, moving faster. He adds a third and you strain against your binds, arching your back, pressing your chest into his hungry mouth. He scissors his fingers, determined to make you feel every inch he fills you with.
“C-Cooper…” You keen, shivering for the hot slide of his tongue over your nipple, how he sucks it into his mouth.
Pulling off with a wet pop, he drags his tongue up the line between your breasts, greedy for the taste of you. “Shh, shh,” he hushes, already teasing a fourth finger. His breath is hot on your damp skin. “Just a little more, you can take it,” he says, pressing his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles to soothe the burn of being filled so suddenly.
“I can’t, I can’t,” you protest, nails biting into your own hands, eyes screwed shut.
“Y’already there, sugar,” he rumbles, each word rougher than the last. He’s right, you’re seated in the crook between his thumb and index finger, so full of him that your thighs are trembling from the strain of it. He rocks his hand slowly, fucking you deep, crooking his fingers until a sharp jolt of pleasure makes you shudder. “Doin’ good, takin’ everything I give you. That’s it. Go on, pretty bird. Sing me a song.”
Your eyes meet, both bleary and wild. You could lose yourself in the darkness of his gaze, and given his insatiable hunger, you know he would swallow you whole. You moan for him, sing his praise with the breathlessness of your voice, with the sway of your hips as you pick up his rhythm. He nods absently, watching you with such voracious wonder, you feel beyond yourself. Half human, half embodiment of pleasure.
The meteoric rise back to the cusp of your climax feels like flying, your stomach tightening, the velvet walls of your cunt throbbing and squeezing his fingers so tightly, you feel their every slide.
You come hard on his fingers, crying out just before the height of your pleasure seizes you. Cooper watches every second of your release, his own lids flickering, though he never blinks. He slips his arm around your body and pulls you to him, naked skin pressed snug against leather and tattered fabric. You collapse into him, held up only by his grip and the tether binding your hands around his neck.
He holds you through the aftermath, savors every last wet quiver of your cunt around his fingers. His thrusts slow, but he doesn’t stop until–in a quaking breath–you beg him to. His fingers settle in deep, lingering a moment before he slides them free. The relief of escape from overstimulation is rivaled only by the awful emptiness that his fingers leave in you. You clench your shaking thighs on either side of him so that he might understand.
Stay.
Either he understands, or he simply isn’t through with you. His gloved hand slides up and down your back, thumb brushing the back of your neck on every upward swipe. Before long you hear a decidedly wet slurp, and you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him through euphoria addled eyes.
One by one, Cooper licks every one of his slick fingers clean, purring his approval. “Not even decades of radiation poisoning can erase the taste of good pussy,” he says, voice low and lazy. “And this, darlin'? Gourmet."
You smile, heat rushing up your chest to your cheeks. “I think you have an addiction,” you say, a slight slur to your words. You roll your fingers, which tingle faintly, the rope taking its toll on your circulation.
He clicks his tongue, hands settling on your hips. His hands are warm, and his touch erupts goosebumps up your spine. “Y’say that like it’s a problem. Gonna cut me off?”
“As your dealer, it’s in my best interest to encourage said addiction,” you say, cocking your head. Up close like this, focused only on each other’s eyes, it’s easy to forget he’s anything other than a man. His eyes are beautiful, the color of sand in that fleeting hour of sunset that turns the whole world gold. Not even the hole left from the decay of his nose takes away from the beauty of them. Truth be told, you find the whole of him entirely too handsome. “Besides, I find myself similarly afflicted.”
His lips split into a slow smile. “Y’somethin’ rare, darlin’. Fine company’s scarcer than clean water these days.”
Another wave of heat washes through you, but this time it concentrates in your chest, coiling around your heart and squeezing. “You’re just not used to talking to people who know how to read,” you say, trying and failing to swallow back the sentimentality swelling in your throat.
He chuckles. It’s a rare sound, one that does nothing for the growing affection suffocating your heart. “True, true.” He already admitted that the way you spoke is what caught his attention in the first place.
“Say…” You begin, hesitant. “You remember what I said to you when we first met? Down in the bar.”
Gently, Cooper lifts your arms from around his neck, setting your hands between your bodies. He blows out a breath and starts untying your hands. “I’m old, sweetness. Refresh my memory.”
"I told you I wasn't for sale," you remind him, blood rushing back into your hands with the removal of the rope. You rub them together.
He makes a small noise of recollection, winding the rope around his hand. “Y’did.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” you say, watching him carefully.
His gaze flickers up to yours, searches your expression. He can tell you’re guarding it, and his own sobers in response. “Dare I ask the cost?”
"Love,” you blurt out, far more graceless than you’d been in your mind. His eyes widen a fraction, caught off guard. In any other moment you’d be smug about that, but now it’s precarious. Whatever nebulous sentiment exists between the two of you, you know it’s fragile. “Love. Yours, or just… mine. The cost is love.”
“Y’don’t love me, sweetheart,” he says, but the gentleness of his words does nothing to dissuade you. It only worsens the yearning in your heart.
“You don’t get to decide that,” you say, a frown tugging at your lips.
He’s quiet for a moment, gauging you. “Y’don’t know me.”
“You let on more than you think you do,” you counter, hands braced on his chest. “I might not know everything about your life, but I know you.”
You know he read westerns and science fiction novels written by a man named Louis L’Amour, but confessed to liking his poetry best. You know the variations in his smiles. You know the sound he makes when he gets up from sleep, stiff-limbed and weary. You know him in intimacy. You know how he craves peace and grace in the warmth of your body. If blinded and deafened, you would know his touch.
Whether he likes it or not, you know him the way souls know each other.
His eyes drift away as if he’s leery about you seeing anything more than you have. “What you’re lookin’ for, y’not gonna get it from me. I’m burnt out, darlin’. All dried up.”
“I’m not asking for more than you’ve given,” you say, trying not to let the terrible ache in your chest color your tone. You could scream at him for how wrong he is. How much left of him there is to love. “I’m telling you that I have more to give, and I want you to have it.”
“I wouldn’t even know what t’do with it anymore,” he says, gazing somewhere distant.
You wish he’d at least look at you as you bled your heart. “Nothing you haven’t already done, if that’s what you want.”
“Then why say anything at all?” He asks, an edge creeping into his tone. He does finally look at you, the lines of his expression as guarded as they were the first day you met him. “If y’didn’t want t’change things, why say anything?”
You stiffen to keep from shrinking away. You want this too badly to let him spook you now.
“So that you know,” you say, choosing your words carefully. Each one feels sharp on your tongue, too honest. Too vulnerable. You’re giving him too much power with each one that falls.
“I’m telling you so that you know I love you. I’m telling you because if I don’t, I might explode with it,” you say, fervency climbing in your voice, spurred on by the beginning sting of rejection. “I’m telling you for me. Is it easier to accept my love if it’s selfish?”
There it is again, that flicker across his face. Whatever he expected to hear, it wasn’t that. Slowly, Cooper removes his other glove, dropping it to the wayside. With that same hand, he brings his knuckles to your face, ghosts the heat of them down your cheek.
“Y’deserve better than half measures from a broken old man,” he says so quietly, you strain to hear each word. “Most of me’s always gonna be out in the sands, lookin’ for what’s lost. That’s no life for you.”
Taking his hand in yours, you hesitate a beat before you start to place gentle kisses on his every first knuckle. “Maybe. Maybe not,” you say between kisses, not meeting his eye yet. You’ve never been quite so openly affectionate. “But it’s like you said… Fine company is scarce,” you say, kissing each second knuckle next. “Don’t deny me the best I’ve ever known.”
His smile is reticent, tugged from the corner of his mouth as if by an invisible string. There’s something wistful in his expression. He watches you kiss the pads of his fingers next, the prints of them long worn away and replaced with thick calluses. His thumb is last. You give it a playful little nip, lest the softness of your lips scare him off.
Cooper slips his hand out of yours, the wistfulness of his gaze replaced with somber resignation. “M’sorry, darlin,” he murmurs, cupping either side of your face.
Your stomach drops, the bitter stench of a goodbye settling into the air between you. You remind yourself that you knew this might happen. You repeat the thought again and again, as if being right will make it hurt less.
His thumbs stroke over your cheeks. “If I were a better man, a stronger man,” he says, gaze dipping to your lips. “I’d walk away for good.”
Your brows furrow. “Wh–”
He kisses you with such gentleness it breaks you apart. Your hands fly to his jacket, holding him to you. It’s as if the entire world spins on its axis, your stomach flipping wildly with it. It leaves you floating, tethered only by the grips you have on each other. What begins as a chaste press quickly heats up into a gnawing hunger, his tongue slipping into your mouth, your teeth scraping his bottom lip.
“Lucky for me that I ain’t even a good man,” he says, words peppered between kisses.
The world spins again, but this time you really are moving through the air. You let out a yelp as Cooper flips you onto the bed, kissing a trail down your naked chest. You’ve felt his tongue and his teeth, but never the reverent press of his lips. As if you’ve only just given him permission to see you as something more than a tool for vicarious pleasure, he touches your body the way a superstitious man worships–full of intent and genuine belief.
“Cooper,” you sigh, smiling. “It’s my turn to touch you,” you remind him, tugging at the shoulder of his tattered jacket. The most he’s ever taken off is that jacket and his hat, but you want more.
He looks up at you from between your breasts, hesitating a beat. “You should know that it only gets uglier ‘neath the collar, sugar.”
“You’re not ugly,” you tell him. At his skeptical expression, you continue, “I’ve seen ugly. Heard it, felt it. You’re not ugly. Not to me.”
He quirks a hairless brow and lets out an incredulous little breath, adjusting himself onto his knees between your legs, swayed. “Y’might consider glasses,” he tells you, shrugging out of his coat.
You hook your legs over his and use them as leverage to sit up, reaching for the buttons of his vest. “That might not end well for you,” you say coyly, popping each one loose.
“I’m used to it,” he says, leaning down for another kiss. This, too, is reverence. He takes his time, savoring the feel of your lips against his, licking the taste of you from them like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever known. With his vest open, you work on his undershirt next, tugging them loose while sucking on his tongue.
Halfway down, he stills your hand with a firm grip on your wrist. “That’ll do,” he tells you, voice little more than a rasp. You bite back a protest and nod, understanding that this is likely more exposed than he’s been in a long, long time. You push back into the kiss and press your hand to his chest, sliding slowly down.
The skin beneath is as gnarled as old tree bark, pitted in places and scarred in most. For as durable as ghouls are, Cooper’s skin has been shredded and torn and riddled with bullets enough times that parts of his body have taken hold of those memories forever, formed around them.
You treat them gently, tracing them with your fingertips. You feel unreasonably powerful when he shivers subtly beneath your touch. You press your hand flat to his heart to hold the beat of it in your palm. It’s slow, but each thud is strong. You break from him with a deep breath, dizzy from the way he makes your head spin with each kiss.
“Lie down,” you say breathlessly. You’re almost surprised when he does, unaccustomed to taking so much control. You cozy up against him, laying your head where your hand had been a moment ago, and close your eyes. His heartbeat sounds just as it felt. Steady, firm, slow. You imagine the radiation has scarred him inside and out, left his heart thick and misshapen as well. Alive nonetheless.
After a brief hesitation, Cooper’s arm slips around your waist. His thumb caresses your hip. “For what it’s worth,” he begins, his tone overly conversational, masking whatever true feeling lurks beneath. “I won’t hold you to none of it. Not if y’get sick of it.”
If you get sick of him, he means.
You tip your head back to look up at him. His gaze is affixed to the ceiling, but you can see apprehension in his distant expression. You drop your eyes, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. His hand cups the back of your head in response, stroking. You smile faintly, soaking in all these little affections. You wonder how long he’s been holding back from touching you like this, denying himself such simple intimacies in order to maintain a distance he didn’t feel, but deemed necessary.
“You’re wrong, Cooper.”
“‘Bout what?”
“You are a good man.”
He goes quiet at that. The two of you lie there a long while, his hands absently roaming your body like he’s committing you to memory. Your hands do the same, dipping under the hem of his shirt to explore further. He hooks his knuckle under your chin, tips your head back to kiss you languidly.
There’s a surreal domestic feel to the unhurriedness of it all, as if he won’t be gone to the winds come morning. You make a home of this moment in your mind, constructing four walls in which to imagine another life. The kind you’ve read about in tattered books and seen on fuzzy old screens.
All the while Cooper holds you, his lips never long from your skin.
You eventually find your way under the covers together, past the point of words. You drape yourself back down against him, your ear finding the chamber of his heart once more. You fall asleep listening to the beat of it, content for now to take each day you spend with him as they come.
#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#cooper howard x you#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard#x reader#fallout fanfic#the ghoul
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sanemi x f!reader. isekai au, established relationship, mostly fluff and character study. | wc 1.3k, divider thanks to @cafekitsune
Gentle communication has never been Sanemi’s strong suit.
He’s moved through his life as wild and blusterous as the winds he wields to keep the world safe, a flurry of carelessly running off at the mouth and leaving destruction behind him if it suited him best. At least until he met you.
Brash is the kind word you’ve chosen to describe him or at least that’s what he overheard you discussing with Mitsuri shortly after he realized his feelings for you were mutual, after the two of you had engaged in relatively wordless physical passion more than once. He didn’t know what the word meant (frankly, he isn’t sure if she did either although she never mentioned it) and he asked you, pointedly, to explain yourself.
“What the fuck does brash mean?”
The look on your face, wide eyes and slightly downturned corners of your lips, caught him off guard even more so than you found yourself. He watched you through narrowed violet eyes while you considered the way to phrase the explanation, a little regretful about his naturally commanding and harsh tone though he could not, and cannot, change it about himself. For a period of time, you looked terrified of him every time you glanced at him and while he felt grateful that was no longer the case, old fears crept in when you opened your mouth to speak, eyes still wide.
“Are you upset with me?” You asked, glancing toward the ground for a moment and then back at his face - that scarred, beautiful face - concerned that your choice of words offended him.
“No.” He answered quickly, reaching out to rub his thumb along the soft skin of the inside of your wrist, something that became a habit after the two of you began sleeping together. His shoulders slumped forward, he inhaled deeply and lowered his voice. “I just want to know.”
Smiling at the glimpse of the man beneath the surface, you leaned in toward him to close the surrounding world off to just the two of you.
“It means that you aren’t afraid to speak your mind and to assert yourself. It’s not a bad thing, you just get to the point quicker than other people might.”
He could tell you were beating around the bush, a little trait of yours he noticed more and more over the time that passed, and his face fell into a scowl despite his thumb still pressing against your skin.
“So you’re saying I’m an asshole?”
You frowned back at him, shaking your head.
“No, I think you just forget about the subtleties of conversation. Facial expressions, tone of voice, language,” you raised your eyebrows at him, pursing your lips to punctuate the last point. “Little things matter, Sanemi. I can’t tell you why but they do.”
Tilting his head to the side, he lacked the grace to hide his confusion. You glanced up at him and trailed your free hand up his arm, reaching until you cupped his chin and cheek in your palm.
“Why? Why can’t people just say what they mean?” You giggled and patted his face, shaking your head. “I don’t have an answer for that but what I can promise you is that I’ll always figure out what you mean even if you say it a little roughly.”
He smiled down at you, slight enough that anyone else would mistake it for a grimace, but you knew better. Emotions have never come easy for Sanemi and you knew that long before getting involved with him bearing in mind that he didn’t speak to you for weeks except to bark orders or demand you cover yourself up in the revealing Slayer uniform you were given upon your appearance in his world.
Even back then, you’d come a long way with one another in a short time. You sighed and dropped your hand from his face, sparing him the embarrassment of being caught mid embrace with you lest someone approached.
“I never mean to be mean to you,” he admitted, eyes glued toward his hand still resting on your arm. “I don’t know how else to tell you what I’m trying to say. All this shit is just…different for me.”
Nodding, you reassured him with a half smile.
“I know and I always pick up on what you really mean anyway.”
The small tells have always said more than he thinks. Twitching fingers, especially the ones he has confided in you he has less feeling in, resting against your arm. Low chuckles in his throat, so brief you believe you imagined them. His lips roughly pressing against your hairline, your cheek, your throat in the darkness of your room.
───・・✦・・───
Those small signs have certainly come in handy over the time the two of you have spent together. The days of miscommunication aren’t long passed, they still linger in the back of your mind when his jaw is slackened and he looks like he may open his mouth to say anything and leave you to play damage control, but you have figured out the little tells.
The crease between his eyebrows deepens and he grips his teacup a little too tightly while kneeling in front of the table at his brothers’ home. You wordlessly sip from your own cup but glance over at Sanemi, raising your left eyebrow to give him the silent signal that you are checking on him.
Are you ready to go?
So many words contained in a simple gesture.
Please.
He nods once, indistinct enough that Genya and his wife who are lost in their own conversation do not look away from one another. Cup placed gently back on the table in front of him, he leans upward and folds his arms over his chest, allowing you to do what you do best. Talk.
“I think we’re about to head home.”
Genya and his wife rise and smile at the two of you, exchanging goodbyes and thanking you for visiting them and their ever growing family. Sanemi’s heart still occasionally pumps a few beats harder when he takes the time to consider how thoughtfully you approach him, patiently allowing him to clarify himself when most would just assume he’s impolite and leave it at that.
“Thank you,” he finally says when the two of you have exited out of the gate separating Genya’s home and the road, stepping down the path headed toward your own that is closer than it seems on a dusk summer evening.
“Of course.” You butt your shoulder against his playfully, fiddling with the inside of your sleeves. “I know you better than you think.”
Sanemi chuckles, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. He’s never been one for overt displays of affection but it’s just the two of you, the crickets, and the earliest appearing stars tonight. There’s no harm in kissing the crown of your head and nuzzling his face into it while your footsteps fall into sync.
“You do,” he agrees, kissing your head. “You’ve tried a hell of a lot harder at the very least.”
This makes you laugh, grinning up at him and wrapping your arms around his waist in return.
“Only because I like you.”
He looks down, brows raised, feigning that same angry look he used to wear before he learned to relax and roll with the punches - assisted by you, of course.
“You only like me?”
Giggling, you shrug, pressing your head into his chest so he can rest his chin on top of it.
“Okay, okay, I guess I love you or something, too.” He chuckles and you feel it rumble beneath your ear, cheeks warming his breath gently ruffles the hair on top of your head.
“That’s better. Say what you mean when you’re talkin’ to me.”
There’s no derision in his words. No anger or frustration, nothing to make you jump or wonder what you’ve done wrong. You glance up at him to find him looking down at you rather than the path ahead, smiling. He’ll save his “I love you” for later, in another way, something you’ve come to appreciate about him since the days when you barely knew each other and were trying to figure it out.
#sanemi x reader#shinazugawa sanemi x reader#sanemi shinazugawa x reader#sanemi imagines#kendall writes#man im feeling so fkdkdjdkdkdkdkdkdkkdmd about posting writing for him let me post this and run away LMAO
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aegean - fa14 smau
fernando alonso x fem!singer!reader
summary: fernando alonso and his girlfriend break up, but is it really over?
warnings: angst no fluff! some slut shaming moments, fernando does NOT look good in this one, but theres more going on behind the scenes i promise xx
a/n: this has no specific face claim, and the songs mentioned are from a variety of artists! there will be a list at the end of the post ♡ there is a part two to this all planned out, it will be posted shortly, hopefully!
my masterlist
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Instagram
Liked by yourbsf2, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 212,964 others
yourusername shout out to my girls 🫶 i love you forever!
tagged: yourbsf1, yourbsf2, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes
yourbsf1: YOURE SO PRETTY I LOVE YOU WIFE!!!!!
yourusername: NO YOU!!
alexandrasainmleux: pretty pretty girl!!
yourusername: can’t wait for another date with you gorgeous 👩❤️💋👩
charles_leclerc: excuse me?
yourusername: you’re excused, vroom vroom boy 😒
user1: gorgeous gorgeous girls have breakup parties together
yourusername: you know it!!!
user2: CONFIRMATION? IM DEVASTATED. RUINED. WALKING INTO THE OCEAN.
Liked by f1, astonmartinf1, and 375,599 others
fernandoalo_official Greece, you were beautiful🤩A few days off before it’s back to the track again! 🏎️
User3: Sir, I don’t know what you did, but you better fix it right the fuck now.
User4: how do you know it was his fault? we don't know anything yet
User3: bc that woman is literally a saint, there’s no way it was her fault
User5: don’t get me wrong, i love y/n so much, but there’s no way for us to know what happened. it might not have been anyones fault, and neither of them need this energy if they’re trying to get over their breakup :’( i’m rooting for both of them
Hater1: Always knew she was bad for you, congrats man!
astonmartinf1: see you soon, sir!
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Liked by yourbsf1, charles_leclerc, maisiehpeters, and 264,978 others
yourusername been a little busy lately, but i’ve got something cooking for you all!
yourbsf2: love you so big <3
yourusername: i love you the biggest! 💓
alexandrasaintmleux: can’t wait for everyone else to hear it!!
user6: PLEASE TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW!!!! 🙏
alexandrasaintmleux: 🤫
user 7: oh… this is gonna wreck me, isnt it.
lilymhe: yeah… you’ll thank her though
user8: the last photo 💔 i promise it gets easier, y/n
Liked by yourusername
Liked by finneas, coltonherta, yukitsunoda0511, and 516,785 others
yourusername remember when i said i had something cooking? my album ‘aegean’ is out now. a lot of love and hurt went into this album, and now it’s yours. i hope it means as much to you as it does to me <333
finneas: it was such a blast to work with you on this album, lets do it again soon!!
yourusername: yes please!
francisca.cgomes: so proud of you babe, just lmk when you want to run away and elope!
yourusername: my bags are packed and waiting!
pierregasly: guess i’ll just leave you both to it 🧍
yourbsf2: wow look at how cool and pretty and talented my best friend is, everyone!!!
yourusername: ugh i love you so much
alexandrasaintmleux: still so excited!!! can we please go get late night ice cream to celebrate
yourbsf1: seconded
francisca.cgomes: thirded!
yourusername: ok to the groupchat before this is a long chain xx
alexandrasaintmleux: as you wish, babe 👩❤️👩
user8: oh my god???? surprise drop???? queen behavior
user9: i’m not crying, YOU’RE crying!
user10: ur crying too, dont lie!
user9: ok yeah. have you HEARD aegean? how could i not be screaming crying throwing up.
Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, yourbsf1, and 228,531 others
lilymhe this amazing, beautiful girl did something amazing and beautiful again! y/n, i am so so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. please never let the hurt keep you down, because you are absolutely incredible. We will always be there to pick you back up if you need it! midnight ice creams with you are something i will cherish forever 🫶
tagged: yourusername, yourbsf1, your bsf2, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, maisiehpeters
yourusername: i love you sooo much lily <33333 thank you for being such an incredible friend
lilymhe: i love you forever 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
francisca.cgomes: pretty best friends stick together forever and ever
yourusername: men are temporary, girlfriends are forever
maisiehpeters: might need to move to monaco so i can come to every midnight ice cream from now on
lilymhe: you’re welcome every time!
user11: how do i get this kind of female friendship in my life? 🥺
yourusername: be kind, be yourself, and be open! your people will find you, user11 💕
user11: OMG HI QUEEN ILYSM KEEP BEING YOU!!! thank you so much!
Twitter
Fernando Alonso's Instagram messages
a/n: and that's my first fic! first smau too, so i hope the formatting isn't too bad? i love when reader is friends w the wags, but i also always love to have y/n have friends outside of the paddock, so i hope no one minded! sorry if any of the wags are ooc i just rlly needed a big group of girl friends for this and idk how normal people talk. also was this just propaganda for some of my fav songs/artists? maybe 🤭i'm actually super nervous about this, so i hope you all enjoyed!!! please send me any questions or comments you have!
the songs mentioned are:
While You Were Sleeping - Laufey
Black Hole - boygenius
Lovesick - Laufey
Goddess - Laufey
Wendy - Maisie Peters
anything - Adrianne Lenker
opposite - Sabrina Carpenter
Aegean - Push Baby
Mud - Delaney Bailey
things i wish you said - Sabrina Carpenter
(I Would Have Followed You) - Delaney Bailey
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#social media au#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso x female reader#f1 angst#f1 instagram au#fernando alonso#fernando alonso imagine#fernando alonso instagram au#fernando alonso smau#fa14#fa14 x reader#fa14 imagine#fa14 fanfic#fa14 fic
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can you write a story about how Alex, Charles and reader meet. Maybe she’s friends with someone in their friend group and when a,c and reader meet, a+c almost have love at first sight
🫶🏻🫶🏻
🎀 ⊹˚. ♡ ➛ Whipped
Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux
Summary: Based off the request above!!
Genre: Throuple, Fluff
Note: Thanks for requesting and sorry if i only made it now😭 there are some grammatical errors here.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist
─────── ─ ˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚─ ───────
The loud clink of utensils echoed around the group that mixed well with the faint sounds of people conversing with one another.
Laughter and playful banters were exchanged from the table of friends— one of them telling a joke that caused them to smile from ear to ear.
It was one of those nights where friends gather and boost about the things that happened to them; it was like their very own ritual to catch up every once in a while, but this time it was different.
There was another addition to the group.
….
“Ah, look whose here. Come y/n take a sit,” one of the girl asked, patting the empty seat besides her.
Y/n happily took the seat and smiled thankfully at her kind gesture. You were kinda nervous, seeing that you don’t know who half the table were, but it was nice to have new friends.
So you took the time to get to know each and every one of them.
While you we’re having a conversation with one girl at the group— two pair of eyes seemed to never left yours.
As if you were the only thing that seem to caught their attention; not even caring if one of their friends are trying to start a discussion with them.
Everything about you were just too mesmerizing— your eyes, your smile, and those laughs that sounds so angelic when it comes out of that pretty mouth of yours.
“Elle est si jolie (she is so pretty)” Alex whispered under her breath, that was loud enough for only she and Charles could hear.
“Je sais, je ne peux pas non plus la quitter des yeux (i know, I can’t take my eyes of her too)” Charles responded, his tone just screams ‘boy inlove’.
Don’t get me wrong, they’re happy with just the two of them, but you just make it so hard to not fall in love with you. I mean come on just look at you! You were built to perfection. God Is this what they call love at first sight?
If it were, then damn. They sure are whipped for you.
…
➛Message (Alex and Charles)
…
“Charles and Alex, you guys have been awfully quite for a while now” Bea exclaimed aloud, earning all the group’s attention to focus on them.
Including yours.
You flickered your eyes and glanced over at them. You’ve noticed their presence for a while now and just like the others you were star struck with their appearance. They were the epitome of luxury and elegance— they give of an aura that just seems so hard to approach them;
“Ah, sorry. Something just came up” charles spoke, his tone laced with sincerity.
As he said those word, his eyes met yours. It felt like he was directly saying it to you. But that’s just silly, imagine the Charles Leclerc saying those to you. Pfft hilarious.
“Oui, quelque chose de beau vient d'attirer notre attention (yes,something beautiful just caught our eye)” Alex spoke, her thick accent dripped with gracefulness.
Just like Charles, her words seems directed towards you. Her eyes latched onto yours— captivating the essence of your beauty.
You looked around, checking if she was looking at anyone else. To your surprise, there were no people at your back. You glanced back but she was no longer staring at you.
Hmm must be a coincidence.
…
Throughout the night, their eyes stared daggers at your direction— watching you like a hawk.
You could feel the burning gazes that came from them but just shrugged it off as a ‘must be someone at my back’ feeling.
…
“This was so much fun guys, i hope we could do this again soon”. One of your friends spat, smiling genuinely at all of you.
The night has finally come to an end; even though you felt all eyes on you every time, you still had fun.
All of your friends gathered their stuff and one by one began to leave the place. Saying all their goodbyes before finally taking off. Just as you were about too, two figure stood in your way.
You furrowed your eyebrows, confusingly. What’s going on?
“Uhm can i help you guys?” You asked, looking at them with pure curiosity.
Alex opened her mouth but then closed it again, she gently nudged Charles shoulder implying for him to speak up.
What the hell was going on, they look like high schoolers whose ready to confess.
Charles rolled his eyes and sighed,“Well, this is kinda awkward but me and my girlfriend were kinda hoping to get your number.”
Oh. So it was a confession kinda thing?
Your eyes widened from the sudden question, “but if you don’t want to it’s fine” Alex chimed in, her face turning red from the tense atmosphere.
You let out a giggle, seeing how their acting like teenagers inlove was just so adorable to you. So why not invest your time in these two cutesy couple.
“Here” you said, getting out your phone and showing them your number to which they wrote down.
…
After that day you guys continued messaging each other back and forth— creating a strong bond between the couple.
And eventually you guys were officially a couple, all three of you.
You were glad you came to that gathering.
…
Sorry for not updating in a while, hope you guys like this tough!!
#imagine#fanfic#oneshot#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one#f1 x you#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1#charles leclerc scenarios#charles leclerc story#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#alexandra saint mleux#throuple
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Ad Interim. | No Service
logline; The days and doubts and desires; the air, underneath the shoe.
[!!!] series history, this is the ninth; the amount of links are getting nauseating just go to the landing LMAO.
Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. I listen to this playlist too much in my day to day now, fr.
portion; 3k+
possible allergies; you're almost ten chapters in, you know very well by now that these two are rife with anxiety and insecurity.
pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (gets she/her'd mb)
fun fact: i finished this one 19 hours after the last chapter, whoops, but let it sit in my drafts to give some breathing room and do some rework
It is t-minus three days, until the worst Friday of your life.
But today’s Tuesday, and though you feel a touch uneasy, you figure it’s probably just the breakfast from yesterday at La Mattina settling in your stomach— Or, at least, hope it is.
You’re at home, sitting on your couch, pensive, haggard, leaned over. Elbows to knees, prayer hands to face, staring at your phone on the coffee table in front of you.
Just send it. Just send the text. Don’t be a fucking wuss. You’ve re-written it in your notes app like five fucking times— He does not care this much, he doesn’t even have basic reading comprehension— Okay, that’s mean— But it’s just not that deep. Just fucking! Send it!
Actually no, no, upon sixth review, the paragraph you had written out was way too intense, way too presumptive. Backspace, backspace, backspace—Just say hi. Let’s just start with Hi.
‘Yooooooooo’
Are you fucking possessed? Good Lord. How is he already typing he never used to reply this fast, what the fuck—
‘Are u fucking haunted?’
‘Fuck is yooooooo’
‘Yooo to you too, cousin’
Faster texter now, but Richie is still the same guy, at the end of the day.
‘this is a loaded fucking question’
‘but do you think you’ll be free any time this week?’
‘not unless ur dead or dying’
‘are you dead or dying?’
‘not that I’ve heard’
‘but I was thinking maybe we could like, get food or smth’
‘chat one on one. Been a minute, yknow’
That was too much. You didn’t need to do all that. Now he’s gonna go well who’s fault is that? And it’s yours. You know it’s yours. And then you’re gonna have that fucking conversation— Which is what this whole meet up thing was supposed to be about in the first place—
‘heard’
‘can’t get time off but fak needs to have his training wheels ripped’
‘could have dinner at the bear this week? Like 2 hours. Then I can watch him and keep him from shitting the bed’
‘and still get to do a fucking one on one, you corporate speak ass’
‘I didn’t know how else to fucking say it alright!!!!!!’
‘Dinner @ bear sounds good to me’
‘but probably ask carm/syd first if it’s cool’
‘yea yea I’ll fuckin check in with daddy don’t worry’
‘that sucked for me. That sucked to read. Go to jail.’
‘already have.’
‘I’ll let u know a time when I know. See u chip’
You heart it. The classic signal that it’s the end of a conversation. Holy shit. You did it. You actually texted someone that you miss that you miss them— Not directly, but you know Rich knows. And specifically, to book a dinner, to talk about what happened, to apologize for it. That’s pretty fucking huge. Which means—
It’s time to eat a whole freezer cake and lay in your pyjamas all day and interact with not a single soul on this entire planet. You’re absolutely at your social limit, for the day. Maybe you’ll talk it through with Mikey, actually. To the air, more accurately, but, y’know, same thing.
You’re gonna get dinner with Richie. You’re gonna get dinner, with Richie, this Friday. And it’s not gonna be awkward or weird, at all.
It is t-minus two days, until the worst Friday of Carmen’s life, so far, at least. There’s always next year.
But today’s Wednesday, and though he feels a little nerve-wracked, he’s pretty sure it’s just because the kitchen was so fucking dysfunctional this morning, and now that their prep’s off, the tempo of the whole fucking day is off, and they're behind on two tables. And fucking seriously this time, can someone get him a fucking marker that fucking works.
Okay, maybe it’s a little more, than nerve wracked.
Sydney is ever the intuitive, and always correct, at the station next to him— Because yes, they’re still down a hire since the meth guy, so now Carmen is on line.
She can tell, that somethings wrong with him, something’s always wrong with him. “Take your ten, Chef.”
Carmen shakes his head, obviously, there’s still prep to catch up on. And if he doesn't do it, it's not gonna get done, and even if it does get done, it's not gonna get done right. He’s pressing the dead sharpie down on the tape, like if he just brute forces it, it’ll start to work. “M’good, Chef.”
“Carmen.” She turns to him fully, stopping her work. And so, he does too. “Take your fucking ten.” She deadpans, she’s not taking no for an answer. She rubs her fist over her heart.
Carmen takes a beat, before nodding, doing the same. “Heard, Chef.”
He needs to look over expense reports that he can’t quite comprehend, anyways.
He really needs his sister. He steps into his office. Despite the fact that they re-constructed just about everything in the restaurant, this musty office remains the same. Untouched. After caving down walls, they had to cut the budget somewhere. He’s glad though, that it's untouched. It might be crowded, poorly organized, have an off smell (probably because of the birth in here, just a few weeks back), but it’s exactly as his brother left it, and that helps him feel… Connected, somehow.
What the hell is Var vs Budget? He’s googling every other word, here. He’s more than grateful, that before going home on mat leave, Sug set up a good enough automated Excel sheet that he could just plug in numbers and it did all the calculating for him. Doesn’t mean he knows what any of the numbers mean, but, they’re there.
He knows that red equals bad. Natalie told him that very specifically. Which did seem like she was calling him fucking stupid, but he let it go. There’s a lot of red. That’s a lot of bad. Well, not a lot, but like, a third of this is red. That’s probably more than it should be. How many months do they have again? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He is never gonna get to pay himself, he’s never gonna be able to pay Syd, he's never gonna get her a star, she’s gonna live with her dad for the rest of her life, you are never gonna get to work here, you’re gonna work as a bottle girl for the rest of your life, he’s never gonna get his shit together so he’s never gonna get to call you his, he’s gonna have to hand the deed to Cicero and then fucking everyone is gonna to lose their jobs and he’s still gonna be him. He’s still gonna be him. Carmy Berzatto, the chef that lost everything, little brother to everyone's hero who blew his brains out. Starless in Chicago, unable to feel anything more than sorry for himself. Carmen’s gonna die as Carmen, and nothing more. At the end of the day.
Take a deep breath, Bear. Relax.
He’s catastrophizing. You told him that. He forgot to look into it. He googles that, instead of another business term he doesn’t understand.
‘Fixates on the worst possible outcome and treats it as likely, even when it is not.’
Well, it does seem pretty fucking likely that he’s doomed to fail and fall into a Sisyphean nightmare of opening restaurants and falling on his fucking face, dragging everyone he loves down with him with his stupid failed pipe dreams. He's no better than his brother.
He tries his best to think of whatever level-headed bullshit you'd give to him, right now, tries to taste the hot chocolate, the lavender and cardamom coffee. He smells your shampoo, in his hair, that helps.
Maybe, maybe it’s just been a bad week. Maybe there will be a lot of bad weeks, maybe there won’t be. Maybe things will be fine, maybe they won’t. You and Syd will still succeed, even if he fails. Everyone will, even if he fails. He has a very capable crew. And while he cannot escape the thought that failure is around the corner, at the very least, he is comforted by the idea that at least he will be the only one sinking with the ship he commands.
The thought of drowning alone is still impossible to rid of. Though.
But you’ve sent a text. And isn’t that a wonderful distraction?
Your connection results in response to his, from this morning, of course. You actually got it today. He swells with what feels like pride, and despite the fact that no one's looking at him, he has to hide his smile with his hand, embarrassed by how happy he is, when he sees the photo you’ve sent, just now. A selfie, sitting next to an oven, Other Tony’s oven. You’re holding a fried wire in your hand.
The text below it is a wonderful salve, ‘If you ever fuck up your ovens, I’ve got like, 10 thermocouples in my personal stock now :))’
So good to him, too good to him. Too good to anyone. ‘Heard.’
Carmen so, so fucking desperately wants to ask you to come to The Bear, right now. You’re only two blocks away, at La Mattina. You’d come, if he asked. He knows that. But he also knows that even if you calm him down, in the long run, it’ll set his day even further off tempo, he’ll be distracted the rest of his shift, and that’s the last thing he needs. He can handle this himself.
‘:)’ For levity. Or something. He’s trying. You give it a heart, so that means he’s done something good, he’s pretty sure.
There’s a knock at his door. Richie does not wait for an answer before coming in. His knocks are more like warnings, really. Carmen’s quick to tuck his phone away, he knows it’d be perfect cannon fodder to be teased into oblivion.
“Aye, cous—”
Carmen does not let the man get a word in inch wise, “Who’s on expo?”
Richie grimaces, this fucking song and dance, again. “Syd.”
“Who’s on her station, then?”
“T.”
“And hers?”
“She’s doin’ fuckin’ both Carmy— And—” Richie pulls a sharpie out of his breast pocket, throwing it at him. Carmen catches it. “Fuckin’ works. Alright?”
Marker works, and the system works. He catches the double meaning, too. Carmen nods, “Heard.”
“Christ.” Richie looks to high heaven, looks to his best friend, really, to give him strength. “Can I take my fuckin’ turn now?”
“Yeah, yeah, go ‘head.” Carmen turns to his desk, looking over the excel sheet, again. He can’t imagine Richie needing all of his undivided attention, right now, he’s not you.
Speaking of you, he can’t find your repair expenses anywhere on here. He needs to text Sug, about that. No, she’s got a fucking baby, he’ll at least look for a physical copy, first.
“I need to take two hours, on Friday.”
“Huh?” Carm’s head snaps up. Okay, maybe he does need to give his full attention to Richie, right now. “Eva got a fuckin’ recital, or somethin’?”
“No, no, uh— Chip wants to get dinner.” Rich scratches his nose with his thumb. “Thought since Fak's been training to host f'like, the whole fuckin’ month, could do dinner 'ere, let him do a run on us. Two birds, one bullet, y’know.”
“It’s stone.”
“I’m not fuckin’ high, cousin—” “No, it’s— Alright.” Carmen closes his eyes, hand over his face, deciding this is not the fight he wants to choose. “Tony’s getting dinner with you?”
“If I’m allowed, your fuckin’ Majesty.”
If it were up to Carmen? He wouldn’t be. But you specifically asked. Why, he has no idea. Carmen crosses his arms. “Yeah, yeah, s’fine. Just start at like, a not peak time. Like 4:30? Then when rush starts after 5 Fak’ll have a lil' momentum.”
“Heard. I’ll tell ‘em.” Richie nods, turning to make his way out.
Carm’s leg bounces, a tick that he’s pretty sure he’ll never get rid of. “… Ey Rich?”
He stops, turning back to Carmy, “Yeah, cousin?”
Carmen taps the end of the sharpie on the table, not looking at Richie, “What’s uh— Why d’you call Tony ‘Chip’?”
Ever so slightly, Richie’s brows furrow. “Did'j'ya ask her?”
Carm shakes his head, “S’why I’m asking you.”
Richie takes a beat, head rocking to the side, “Y'should ask her, she’ll tell you.”
Carmy squints, at that, “Is it fuckin’ dark or somethin’, cousin?”
What’s so secretive about Chip? He figured it would be some stupid inside joke with chocolate chips, like Sug with the salt mix up. Richie swallows, frowning just a bit. He clearly does not know how to answer this question, which just makes Carmen even more curious.
“S’ not dark, kinda, it’s just, y’know. Personal.” Since when the fuck did Richie have respect for personal? Probably since he sent him to stage. Goddammit.
“Did you not coin it?”
“Mikey did.”
Oh.
Huh.
Mikey got to do that first, too, eh?
“But, y’know, ask her, she likes you well enough to tell you, I think.” Richie shrugs, palms out. “Kinda tells stories like that better than me, anyways.” That's high praise— Not in the sense that Richie's a great storyteller, but that he's willing to admit it, for you.
“Oh, she doesn’t bury the fuckin’ lead?”
“Oh, fuck you.” But it’s true, so Richie’s amused. There’s something nice, about being known. Even if it’s to tease.
There’s a lull of silence. Quite frankly, Carmen’s hoping that Richie’s general disdain of silence will force him to confess your nickname backstory, just to fill the void. It doesn’t. Instead, it just gears him up, in the worst way, able to read the look on Carmen’s face.
“You really wanna fuckin know, huh?” Richie tilts down his head, teasing. Carmen groans. Oh dear god, why him. “Oh, fuck, you fuckin’ like her, don’t’chu, cousin? You fuckin’ dog.”
“Shut the fuck up, Rich—”
“Aye, Chip’s a real catch, I gettit— Works hard, plays nice, cleans up good— Y’have my blessing.”
“Didn’t ask for it.”
“Aye,” Richie snaps his fingers, pointing at Carmen like he could smite him. “Don’t gimme no talk back, she was my boy first, a’right? One bad word from me, n’ your lil’ fantasy—” He gestures an explosion with his hand, making a ‘pop’ sound with his lips.
“Gone, cousin.”
Carmen leans back in his seat, playing with the sharpie in his hand. He’s essentially Kubrick staring down Richie, but the guy is unaffected. “Friday, 4:30, two hours. If Fak fucks up, you’re on deck.”
“Heard.”
“Jeff, can I please get an all day, baby?” Baby is Tina’s new HR approved version of ‘for the love of fucking god’ She’s definitely at her limit, meaning Syd’s definitely at her limit on expo. Richie starts to step out, walking backwards.
“You comin’ cousin?”
Carm scratches his nose, straightening up back to his desk. He wishes he could go back to the kitchen, where he knows he’s good, instead of in here, with some goddamn spreadsheets that he cannot comprehend beyond bad. “Uh, one sec, I just need to finish this fuckin’—” He shakes his hand in the air, “Whatever the fuck this is.”
Richie nods, tapping the doorway on his way out. “Heard… g’luck.”
Carmen does not look at the spreadsheets. No. He thinks. He doesn't think about business.
That wasn’t true, was it? A phone call from Richie wouldn’t be the end of him, end of you, would it? Carmen is on the losing playing field here, practically everyone here has more history with you than he does. If he had a… lapse in behaviour, and it got back to you, would that ruin him? God, even his work family ruins things for him. Or could. Which means they will. Catastrophizing.
Whatever. What the fuck ever. He needs to find your invoice. After some flipping through last month’s file, he finds a sticky note from Sug between loose pages.
‘reminder: ask carmy 4 tony invoice’
He squints. You said Nat took care of it. Maybe it’s an old sticky note, he’ll text her about it, it’ll be a solid forty hours before he’ll get a response, anyways. Mom stuff. He really needs to go visit his niece again, soon. Maybe this weekend. Take Richie’s car. But then he'll probably will be forced to take Richie, too. Maybe he should just ask you, instead. Let Nat thank you for the heating pad she’s been loving, properly. Have dinner, all together, in an actual family home, instead of just each other's apartments. That'd be nice.
Yeah. Yeah. He’ll ask you on Friday, when you come for dinner. He grabs a pad of paper, biting the cap off his sharpie. He’ll make you something off menu, on Friday. You’re coming before the rush, anyways, he’ll have time to play, on Friday.
He’s gonna do right by you, this Friday.
Tomorrow, you’ll be getting dinner with Richie, and it’ll be the worst Friday of your life.
But right now, it’s Thursday night, and you’ve finally finished Carmen’s piece for The Bear. You know you told him if he didn’t like it, he didn’t have to put it up, but admittedly, if he doesn’t like it, you will be crushed.
One big white canvas.
Nine perfect squares, perfectly equidistant from each other at all angles.
Each square a snippet, a photo transfer. The squares themselves are messy, sun damaged, bleach stained, light flared. All twinged blue and yellowish. But so perfectly cut and curated.
Each image, something new. Starting at the top left, it’s The Original Beef. Then, the inside. Then the booths.
Then the second row, the sandwiches, held in hands.
The center photo. You've taken almost all of these photos on a disposable from yesteryear, but this is the one you like the most.
Mikey. The only transfer completely unbleached, unaltered, unruined. He’s holding two cut outs. One, Food & Wine and the other, a small section in the off off off pages of the New York Times.
Both specifically the one’s that mentioned Carmen, winning Best Chef and the James Beard.
Mikey was so proud. So so proud, silently, just with you— Couldn't look soft. Carmen does not know this photo exists. No one does. You hope this piece will act as the catalyst for you to be able to talk about the elephant in the room you’ve yet to open for him.
Right next to Mikey, is a balloon on a pipe— A photo you grabbed from Sydney and printed. You can only imagine the stress you could’ve eased, during their fire safety test. C’est la vie. Fak got to prove himself.
And on the last row, the new, ritzy, booths. The Seven Fishes dish— Also a photo you stole from Sydney. And finally, The Bear’s sign. Taken at night, lit up in all its neon glory.
Though the images are disconnected, starting from Mikey in the center— Clean, the flaring and staining grows more intense at the pictures in the corner. Just bordering on illegible. It all feels interconnected, woven.
It’s Carmen. Or, at least, you think it is. That’s what you were trying to achieve. You took inspiration from the way his brain works, the way he cooks messy but produces orderly, the way he’s grown something out of what was barely more than nothing. The way love and grief is at the center of everything. He’s awfully inspiring.
You’re excited, to show this to him tomorrow, on Friday. Hopefully all goes well, on Friday. You’re coming before the rush, you’ll probably have a little time to talk, on Friday. You won’t be able to get into everything, no, you’ve promised most of your bandwidth to Richie, but you’ll make a good start, on Friday.
You’re gonna do right, by Carmen, on Friday.
Tomorrow.
HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE
i've still got 2k of beats to cover for the next chapter, and have 7.9k already written out, for it. This is going to be fun. lmao. I'm genuinely very very excited for you to see it, when it comes out. Cannot believe I thought like 4 chapters ago that'd this next chapter would be the one to be released next. I almost briefed over all of these past few chapters to be nothing more than snippets in a chapter, I would never forgive myself if i went through with that plan, fr.
Anyways, no time for the future, this is NOW!! I hope I described Tony's paintin' good. I think it'd be nice. MBMBAM reference in the intro, are you fucking HAUNTED? ARE YOU FUCKING POSESSED? Love griffy, had to. Carmen CANNOT stop having anxiety attacks, someone get him on prozac frfr.
Tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my hat, I'm gonna need some words to chew on while I write, anyways. Hitting a wall choreographing this back half of chapter ten my GOD. Also oh yeah, silly aesthetic thing. I dunno if anyone noticed or cared, but i do a different ombre banner when it's carmen's perspec-- Did it last chapter too, aint that cute?
Also, I must finally give in, I was lazy to do taglists, but have folded, so here u are mfs. If you'd like to be added, you gotta leave me an essay somewhere. It's the RULES! Well, leave an essay and also ask to be added to the taglist that is but IT'S THE RULES!!
@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101
fully added people that never asked to be on here, you're just like, top fans, so i thought it would be nice, but if you WANT TO BE TAKEN OFF LET ME KNOW I'LL DO IT IMMEDIATELY ALSO IF I'M FORGETTING ANYONE WHO ASKED PLEASE DO REMIND ME
#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen x reader#carmy berzatto#carmen x oc#carmen berzatto x female reader#carmy x reader#the bear fanfiction#the bear x reader#the bear fx#the bear hulu#the bear#fanfic series
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cry baby | chapter eighteen
Summary: "Can we talk?"
Warning: It's a Bucky and Cry Baby-only chapter.
Word Count: 791
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A/N: My heart. Now do you understand why this had to be its own chapter? Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez
For a moment, you hesitated, uncertainty gnawed at your mind as took in his demeanor and appearance. Yet, something compelled you to nod, stepping aside to grant him entry.
Bucky stepped inside, his eyes boring into you as you closed the door and turned toward him.
“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, his eyes searching for answers you weren’t sure how to give.
His question hung in the air as you took a deep breath the tension in the room began to amplify as you met his gaze. “Why does it matter?” you counted, your voice laced with an unexpected defiance.
“Because I care about you,” he replied, his voice filled with frustration and something more vulnerable. “You’re my…” he paused to sigh. “You’re my friend, and I had to find out this way? In the middle of a bar fight?”
Running a hand through your hair, you tried to collect your thoughts. “I didn’t think it was a big deal, James. We were just… enjoying ourselves.”
Bucky’s expression hardened, his jaw clenched as he stepped closer. “You didn’t think it was a big deal? You didn’t think it ‘mattered’ to tell me you have a boyfriend? “ he questioned as his body loomed over you. “Everyone else knew before me… Steve, Nat… Sam! Why was I the last to know?”
“It wasn’t some big secret,” you sighed, a feeling of guilt surging within you. “They just found out over time.”
“It’s me, though,” Bucky insisted, his voice edged with hurt. “I thought we were closer than this.”
“Closer?” you echoed, your voice softening. “Why didn’t you tell me about Leah?” you asked, a hint of hurt now evident in your voice.
“This isn’t about Leah,” he snapped, his voice rising. “It’s about you keeping things from me!”
His raised voice echoed off the walls, an oppressive weight filling the room. You flinched at the volume, his words crashing down on you. You took a step back, his presence feeling suffocating.
“James, try to understand,” you pleaded, desperation crept into your tone. “It wasn’t…”
“Stop calling me James!” he roared, reverberating around the small apartment. Your words seemed only to stoke the flames of his anger. His chest heaved with each ragged breath.
You pushed back against his anger. “I’m sorry, Bucky,” you began, your voice becoming steadier by the word. “But you disappeared for weeks without a word, and again, you didn’t tell me about Leah, either!”
If you had blinked, you would have missed the flicker of guilt flashing across his face before it was replaced again by anger. “That’s not the same thing,” he snapped, his voice sharp.
“It IS the same thing,” you insisted, you weren’t backing down. “You shut me out, Bucky. You left that night and didn’t come back, and then you came back and everything was different.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched, for a moment it looked like he was struggling to find a response. His fists balled at his sides. “I had my reasons,” he muttered.
Your frustration boiled over, the emotions you had bottled up for so long now began erupting like a tsunami. “What reasons could you possibly have to justify any of this?” you demanded, your voice trembling with anger and hurt.
But no explanation came, instead, he turned away from you, his shoulders sagging. For a moment, the apartment fell silent.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.
His admission only fueled your emotions. “You don’t know?” you repeated. “After everything we’ve been through, you owe me more than…”
Before you could finish your sentence, he closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a desperate, frantic kiss. One hand found its way to your waist the other, to your face. He pulled you closer to him as if he needed to erase the distance.
For a moment, you were lost. The sensation of his lips against yours, the taste of him, your senses became overwhelmed.
As the kiss deepened, you responded, your hands reaching up his chest, clenching his shirt in your fists, pulling him closer. But, the doubts lingered at the back of your mind.
When you finally pulled away, your breath became ragged as you gasped, struggling to make sense of what had happened. His gaze met yours, searching for something, anything. You couldn’t find the words to express the emotions swirling inside you.
His eyes filled with remorse, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes beginning to well. “I never meant to hurt you.”
You nodded slightly. “I know,” you replied softly, the weight of the evening washing over you. “But you did.”
There were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend what was lost between you.
---
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#cry baby series#cry baby#bucky barnes x cry baby#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky fanfic#james bucky barnes#bucky fic#bucky barnes x you#biker!bucky#biker au
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#3, a little angst that ends with fluff, for Mat Barzal
Prompt: “I wish you were here with me.”
Note: I don’t know if my brain will ever fully get used to spelling his name with one ‘t’…but like that’s such a mat barzal thing idk why that’s so him in my opinion 😂
“Yeah it was a pretty fun day, I’m exhausted though. I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of bed in the morning.”
Mat finally finished telling you all about the fun he had at the skills competition. The guest celebrities he got to meet, the freebies that brands were gifting out to the players. Though you knew he wasn’t bragging, it still hurt your feelings hearing how much fun he was having.
You were supposed to go with him for the All Star Game, but something came up with work and you were forced to stay home. He knew how much you were looking forward to going, and of course you were proud of him for getting picked, you missed not being able to celebrate moments like this along with him.
“Yeah, sounds like you had quite a fun day babe.”
Mat could hear the bit of disappointment lacing your words as you sighed into the phone. He felt bad for bragging, but he was just so excited to tell you about his day that he’d neglected to sympathize with how you were still upset.
“I wish you were here with me.”
His words coming out a bit like an afterthought as he tried to cheer you up, only to make you more frustrated.
“I’m sure you do, though it sounds like you had a great day without me. Meeting celebrities, getting tons of freebies from brands, hanging out with the guys. Definitely sounds like you were missing me Mat. But don’t worry because I’m sure we will make plans for me to come with you to the awards in Vegas, or overseas for some upcoming tournament, or god knows what else. But, per usual something will come up and I won’t be able to join you and support you.”
Mat remained silent on his end of the phone call, letting you vent and say whatever you needed to. These frustrations being something you’d had for awhile. Your job unfortunately not always being one to let you miss work, especially when you had important deadlines or projects that needed done.
“Well, I meant what I said…but I’m sorry you don’t think so.”
He didn’t mean to say anything snarky back to you, but it just slipped out. He was frustrated that you felt like he didn’t want you there to experience these things with him.
“Mat, I didn’t say that. I just, I want to support you. To be there to experience all these achievements and special moments. But it’s like I can never catch a break with work. And I feel like I’m not being the best girlfriend I can be if I can’t even have a weekend to fly out and see you in an all star game like every other girlfriend or wife can.”
One thing Mat was never okay with was you comparing yourself to other girlfriends or wives. Was he upset that you felt he was insincere wishing you were there, sure. But he knew you were just frustrated. He would be too if he was in your shoes. But to hear you call yourself a bad girlfriend or not supportive enough, that hurt him.
“Baby, you are the most supportive person in my life. Who gives a fuck what other girlfriends and wives do. You’re my girlfriend, and you do more than enough to support me. You refuse to stop working because you don’t want to be someone who lives off their boyfriend, and I admire the fuck out of that. Half the girls dating guys in this league aren’t like you. And that’s why I love you so much. I’m sorry for being snarky, I just, I hate that you feel like you need to be like the others. Because you’re perfect for me, just the way you are.”
Smiling into the phone, you calmed down a bit as you needed that reassurance from Mat. He always reminded you that you were different, in the best way. And that’s why he loved you so much.
“Now, enough about my day, tell me about this work project and how fucking amazing my boss ass girlfriend did.”
#mat barzal fluff#mat barzal blurb#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fic#mat barzal#nhl fics#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#hockey fic#hockey imagine#nhl blurb
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saccharine
saccharine - aka; cowgirl!reader who teases the shit out of him x billy who 'hates' you, or so he says.
tending to your wounds.
fem!reader
this could be read standalone or with the other parts <3
There was nothing else you could have done. With Jesse and his boys talking shit about your gang, about Billy, you had to say something. You were passing near them in town and caught the little jesting, which seemed to only get louder when Olinger realized it was you who was walking past them.
Part of you knows it was stupid and your impulsivity was becoming a problem, but you had to do something, right? Stand up for yourself, for Billy, for the other men that you’ve grown to see as a family. Mostly Billy. So you did. And you paid for it.
Apparently, it wasn’t below Olinger to take a few swings at a woman. It isn’t surprising though, and in hindsight, Jesse was the one to pull him back once you started reciprocating in the fight before anything got worse. Your hand had already found your gun, had it pulled out and cocked, but Jesse gave you a look and nodded off, hoping you’d walk away.
With small reluctance, you kept the gun trained on Olinger as you paced backward, your eyes never leaving the group of men until you could slip away. You decided to not head straight for camp in fear of them following.
That was also a slight mistake. Your nose ached and your lip was busted, knuckles bloodied. You’re sure a bruise will appear on your side and your cheek, but a sense of pride washed over you as you remembered hearing the crack beneath your knuckles when you punched Olinger in the nose.
Your head is already woozy by the time you’re back at camp, waving off Charlie who immediately shows his concern. The plan is to take care of yourself inside your little tent, not wanting to worry anyone and cause a commotion.
But then you see Billy. He’s just shrugging off his coat when he locks eyes with you. He barrels over, almost tripping over his own feet, “What the fuck did you do, cowgirl?”
You let out a breathless chuckle, “So caring,” you mutter, walking past him, purposely bumping your shoulder into his, but it makes you wince. Billy holds himself back from grabbing your wrist, but he does follow you.
“‘M being serious, what happened?” He presses, his head turned to look at you, assess what’s hurt as you walk.
“Your old pals,” you tell him and he rolls his eyes. Your hand presses to your lip as it stings, a wince running through you again and you look at the blood on your hand when you pull it away from your mouth.
“What were you doin’ with them?” Billy is eyeing you so intently like he’s itching to grab you and make you stop walking. His tone sounds almost accusatory so you lean into it.
“Fucking them.”
He scoffs and moves to stand in front of you, blocking your way, “Stop messin’ around, ‘m…,” he trails off, looking away for a second before his eyes meet yours once again, “‘M trying to help, what happened? Just let me help fix you up.”
“I don’t need help, I know how to take care of this,” you gesture to your face and step to the side to walk away from him, but he just steps back in front of you.
“Bonney.”
“Cowgirl.”
You sigh dramatically, thinking over your options. Of course, you didn’t want to say no to Billy helping you clean up. He had nice hands. They would touch your face. And you could talk to him more. But you also feared he’d make you say what happened and your pride would take a hit. But the other part of you remembered that night a few months ago when you fixed him up after a fight. The gentleness between you two that you’ve never felt since longed to see if it would be back. And you’re tired.
“Fine,” you finally say to him and his shoulders lose their tension. You bump into his shoulder again as you walk past him.
Billy shakes his head, closing his eyes tight to clear his thoughts at your indifference and attitude before he follows you. Still standing, you’re already taking a cloth out of your bag, but he snatches it from you, wetting it with his water and grabbing your hand to clean your knuckles.
When you sigh, he can’t help but smirk at how much you’re defying this, “‘S okay to need help,” Billy says, doing his best to be gentle with your knuckles.
“Think you should take that advice too.” You try to make it about him. Knowing he would typically refuse help, but you both knew that you were much worse with it.
“Gonna tell me how this happened? Jesse and his boys, huh?” Billy moves on to your other hand.
A silence falls over the two of you as you keep your mouth shut. Billy isn’t dumb though, he knows how prideful you can be. “Whatever did happen, you shouldn’t have let it get to you. They’re all dicks.”
“I know,” you huff, clenching and unclenching your fingers to see if they hurt much once Billy’s done cleaning them.
He grabs his clean handkerchief and dabs under your nose without warning which causes a small flinch from you. Billy shakes his head at it, holding your jaw with his other hand so you stay still. “If you know, then you wouldn’t have gotten involved in whatever you got involved in. You can’t be gettin’ hurt like this, sweetheart. What were you thinking?”
An eye roll comes from you. “Well…they were mouthing off about you,” you tell him, flushing when you realize how it sounds, so you quickly add on, “About…all of us, the whole gang.”
“And?” Billy gently turns your head as he continues to clean the blood off your face, his brow furrowed and his lips slightly pouted. Why are you looking at his lips right now, he could notice.
“And I can’t stand that sorta thing. You know that.” You can’t hide the slight annoyance in your tone.
“I do. But that was risky of you. And now you’re hurt,” he sighs after he speaks, tilting his head as he cleans near your mouth.
“Bonney, I do not need to be lectured, I was just defendin’-”
“You got hurt,” he says, his voice a little more stern as he tosses the bloody handkerchief to the ground with your cloth.
“I don’t want you gettin’ fuckin’ hurt over defendin’ me, I can’t have that,” Billy snaps, not even mentioning your words about how you did it for the gang.
Oh.
A shaky sigh leaves your lips, “I can handle myself, Bonney.”
“I know. I know, but you got fuckin’ hurt. Are you hearin’ me say that?” Billy’s getting more frustrated, his gaze stern and he pinches the bridge of his nose after he speaks.
“We all get hurt sometimes,” you mutter, and you roll your eyes again. It’s common for any one of you to run into some trouble, and end up with minor injuries that heal within due time. It wasn’t anything big, right?
“I know but, you got hurt, impulsively and…and…what if they pulled a gun out?”
A twinge of something warms your heart when he specifies you getting hurt. Like he does care. Even if he thinks you should’ve walked away.
“I’m quick.” You give him a shrug and Billy rubs his hands over his face.
“Sweetheart,” he says, exasperated. Billy doesn’t know what he’s doing. When he saw you all battered up, he wanted to just scoff and make fun of you and leave it at that, but he didn’t do that. And now he’s two steps away from blurting out that he cares for you.
“Billy, c’mon, I’m tired, I’m aching. I know it was fucking stupid, but it’s what I had to do,” you breathe out, taking a deep breath in and out.
“Yeah, it was fuckin’ stupid,” he mumbles back, his eyes back on yours, “really, really stupid.”
“Thank you,” your voice is monotoned to further display your sarcasm and you see the hint of a smile on his face.
Then it starts to drop as his brow furrows more, “Your nose is bleedin’ again,” he says and he moves in close, reaching into your bag at your side. Billy invades your space with this move, his body heat radiating into yours as he finds the handkerchief and holds it to your nose.
You want to protest, but you keep your mouth closed, eyes boring into his as he looks right back at you. A thrumming from your chest almost wills you to break his gaze, but you can’t let him win that. There’s something in his eyes you cannot decipher. His eyes are a little glossy, but he can’t be tearing up, can he? No, that’s just how Billy’s eyes are, you tell yourself. His hair looks like he hasn’t washed it in a few days, not that you blame him, but it made you want to wash it for him. To run your hands through his hair as his hands held onto your sides. It was foolish to think of fantasies like that, you think. Too much wishful thinking that Billy would ever want something like that. There was no reason to hurt yourself over it. Would save the disappointment. You hope to dear god he doesn’t understand what’s going through your head. That your eyes look full of emotion but just as blank as his own do right now. Because that’s all you can get from him. Emotion. But what kind? It’s anyone’s guess.
When he gently dabs and pinches at your nose to help stop the bleeding, it snaps you out of your thoughts. You wince and move back.
“Sorry,” he says, his voice softer and he looks at the bloody handkerchief in his hand. The motion you took to move back made you aware of the pain at your side, your hand resting there. Everything was too much. The pain. Billy. Yourself.
With a shaky sigh, you mutter, “I hate this so much.”
Billy’s brow furrows and he takes a tentative step closer, “Hey, ‘s okay. Like you said, we all get hurt, I just-”
“I know, it was really stupid of me. I acted on impulse like I always do, but hell, I-I had to. Fuck, I just had to. I’m so tired of hearing people talk shit about you when all you’re doing is trying to help the right people.”
Billy is a little surprised at your words, but you don’t even seem focused on that.
“I hate h-how much I feel, Billy. I feel so much and I need to act,” you blurt out to him, rubbing your hands on the sides of your face and then you realize something.
“Fuck, my hat.” The nice little cowboy hat that Billy bought for you, paid with his own money to make it up to you after he messed something up, was not with you.
“It must’ve fallen off in the commotion,” Billy says, his face strewn with concern over you more than anything else.
But you take it as him being disappointed. “God, I’m sorry, I know you paid a good amount for that.”
“‘S okay, we can get you a new one,” he says softly. You scoff.
“No, I can’t let you do that. I’m such an idiot,” you say to yourself, your hand rubbing over your face, forgetting about your nose, so you only irritate it more. “Shit!”
Billy sighs torn between staying put where he is and coming closer to you, “You’re not an idiot. Maybe it’s still there too, we can get it.”
Your mind is going a mile a minute, your hands getting shakier as your chest overwhelms your entire body. The thoughts are coming too fast.
“No, it’s not there, someone probably took it. And I can’t let you buy me a new one. I can’t. I fucked this up. I should’ve just left as you said. I shouldn’t have fought or even said anything. And now I lost my hat and I’m feeling, feeling so much, like a lot a lot, Billy, it’s like a lot,” you take a breath.
As you speak, Billy’s trying his best to listen to every single word. He’s a bit exasperated with you still. Your stubbornness was fucking difficult to deal with, but he’d never live without it. He can’t help but smile. Just a little. A very tiny one that you don’t even register. He’s not sure why he’s smiling, but maybe it’s because you’re you. He finds himself watching your lips for a quick second when you’re speaking. Just a quick second.
You continue, “I don’t understand why I have to feel so much you know, and why I do act so impulsively but it just feels right, you know? It always feels right and sometimes I regret it sometimes I don’t I mean I do regret it tonight but at the same time I did break Olinger’s nose I think. So that’s cool but anyways, I still hate it, I hate that it feels right to be impulsive but then I end up feeling so much, I just want-”
Billy is compelled by your words to lean forward and quickly peck your lips, effectively stunning you into silence from your rambling. He’s just as frozen as you are, staring at you wide-eyed.
“What…what was…,” you try to get words out, but you’re only thinking about the small feeling of his chapped lips on yours. He kissed you. A peck. But he kissed you. Oh, maybe you’re dead!
Billy’s shoulders are tense as he shakes his head and gives a light shrug and breathlessly says, “Shut the fuck up?”
A grin worms its way onto your lips and you grab at his neckerchief to pull him in and properly kiss him. The rough feeling of his lips as he presses back into it, and the warmth of his body being close to yours only lasts a few seconds before you’re wincing and mumbling, “My lip, my lip, forgot about my lip,” and you bring your fingers to the cut that’s there.
Billy laughs. Your hand hits his arm, almost wanting to linger so you can feel the muscle he's been gaining recently. He feigns hurt, holding his hand to where you hit him. You wish your hand was there. You call him a prick. He calls you an ass.
Maybe you love him.
#WE ARE SO BACK#billy the kid#saccharine#billy the kid x reader#billy the kid x you#billy the kid imagine#billy the kid smut#billy the kid blurb#billy the kid drabble#william h bonney x reader#william h bonney#william h bonney x you#william h bonney fanfiction#william h bonney smut#william h bonney imagine#william bonney#william bonney x reader#william bonney smut#william bonney x you#tom blyth#billy bonney#billy bonney x reader
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When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Four
I have so much motivation for this series currently, so y'all are getting a bunch of updates for it hehe
Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader
Summary: Y/n meets Wooyoung, the other omega in Ateez, and Hongjoong gets what is coming to him, via an angry Seonghwa
wc: 2k
AU: a/b/o
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Nets: @newworldnet
warnings: Yelling, physical violence (slapping), Angry Seonghwa, Angst, Hongjoong is having a time in this chapter, anxiety, lots of playfulness between Wooyoung and other members, mentions of anxiety and being overwhelmed, I think that's it?
masterlist
Y/n couldn’t say anything as Seonghwa pulled her behind him as he took her to wherever Wooyoung was within the building.
“I’m sure you’ll get along well with Wooyoung-ah. He’s so friendly, and he’ll enjoy having another omega to play around with. I can’t believe you’re the only omega that made it to this point. And because of that, I’ll give you my number, so don’t hesitate to call me if you need help, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay, us omegas have to stick together. Plus, between you and I, I want another omega in the group, we’re way outnumbered by the betas and alphas in the group. But don’t tell anyone I said that, they don’t need to know.” Seonghwa kept going on, and she just kept humming and nodding at the appropriate times, as she was a bit overwhelmed, but she kept her scent under control, not wanting to make the older omega aware of how she was feeling.
It seemed to work, as he didn’t seem to notice her nerves. Only moments later, they arrive at a door, the idol opening it and pulling her inside.
“Wooyoung-ah! I brought you a friend!” Seonghwa called out to the younger member, who looked up at him.
“What poor soul did you kidnap this time, hyung?” Wooyoung said, trying to see who was behind Seonghwa.
“She’s not a poor soul! Look, one of the auditionees is an omega! So I brought her here. She’s the only omega in that group, surrounded by a bunch of alphas and betas. I couldn’t leave her alone with them, not when I could bring her here, so she can have some quality time with her own subgender.” Seonghwa told him, his told hinting at the tiniest amount of scolding for the younger omega as well.
“Did you agree, or did hyung drag you here?” Wooyoung asked y/n, directing the attention onto her, as she realized Wooyoung wasn’t the only one in the room.
“Yah!” Seonghwa interrupted her answer by an offended yell.
“I’ll take that as the latter is the truth. I’m sorry for Seonghwa-hyung’s stupid actions, I swear he usually isn’t this stupid.” Wooyoung apologized, quickly running away with a grin on his face as the elder omega let her hand go in favor of chasing after the younger man.
It was at that point that she realized exactly who else was in the room, as San and Yunho came up to her.
“Y/n, right? How did Seonghwa hyung meet you and bring you here?” Yunho asked her, his head tilted, really making the fan comparison to a golden retriever much more obvious.
“Seonghwa-ssi found the group of us out in the hallway across from the studio, and when he found out I’m an omega, he brought me here to meet Wooyoung-ssi.” She explained, her voice a bit quiet as she felt a bit out of place.
“Ahh, that makes sense. Well, come on and sit down with us, they’ll be occupied for a while.” San interjected, before guiding her over to the area the two had been sat down at, alongside the last two remaining members she had yet to meet.
“Jongho, Yeosang, meet y/n. She’s one of the candidates for our new member, and the only omega candidate as well.” San introduced her.
“Ah, that’s why he brought you here. Seonghwa-hyung always latches on to any omega he finds.” Jongho commented.
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Yeosang, though I think you already know that.” Yeosang said, a kind smile on his face that made y/n blush slightly, as she could feel her cheeks heat up.
Yeosang really was a fairy prince, she couldn’t believe how pretty he was, he looked even more ethereal in person.
“Come on, sit down here.” San instructed her, pointing to the empty chair that he had been sitting in prior. The beta had moved onto the couch with Yeosang and Jongho, slightly squishing the two on the couch that was definitely not meant for three people.
She sat down, still nervous at casually sitting around with half of Ateez like it was nothing.
“Don’t be nervous, it’s okay. We’re just normal people.” Yunho told her after noticing her nervousness, a soft smile on his face as he looked over at her.
“Ah, it seems that the others have kidnapped you.” Seonghwa said from just behind her, making her jump in her seat. Wooyoung scoffed at Seonghwa’s actions.
“Give her a little warning, huh? Let’s not scare a prospective member. I’m sorry for Seonghwa’s actions, y/n. That’s your name, right? I’m pronouncing it correctly too?” Wooyoung once again apologized for his hyung’s actions, though this time he was more sincere, not as intent on getting on the elder omega’s nerves.
She confirmed that he had pronounced his name correctly, thanking him for asking. The slightly older omega smiled and waved away her thanks, saying it was the right thing to do, as no one likes their name being mispronounced. He moved to sit on the arm of the chair she was sitting in, looking down at her. “You’re pretty cute, y’know that? I’m sure you look prettier with a blush on your face however.”
His words caught her off guard, and she couldn’t look at him, instead choosing to hide her face in her hands, to the laughter of everyone else. Which only served to make her hide her face even further. Thankfully, Seonghwa was her savior once again.
“Okay, let’s not laugh at her, I think it’s only making her hide more.” The eldest member lightly scolded the others, and y/n felt safe enough to look up once again, only to find Wooyoung had moved to squat right in front of her.
“Hi.”
“Hi?”
“Let’s go!” He told her, grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the chair, and soon, out of the room. “Seonghwa-hyung is about to go murder Hongjoongie-hyung for his actions, so I’m taking you far away. We’re gonna go visit our dongsaengs!”
Back to the Seonghwa and the others…
The four men watched as Wooyoung dragged the other omega out the door behind him, and they chuckled at his actions, absolutely expecting for that to happen.
“Well, I’m leaving now as well. Someone needs to scold our captain.” Seonghwa informed the other four.
“What did he do now?” Yeosang questioned.
“He was rude to y/n and the other auditionees. He kicked them out of the studio, which is unacceptable.” Seonghwa told them, a frown on his face.
The four men weren’t surprised at their captain’s actions, though they were surprised Mingi didn’t try to stop him.
“Well, I’m off now. I’ll come back later. Keep an eye out for the two omegas, yes?” He said, to which he received nods in return.
Seonghwa set out to scold his pack alpha, disappointed in his actions. He was an omega on a mission, and he wouldn’t be dissuaded from his goal. He quickly reached the studio where the two remaining members of their group had sequestered themselves, and by the time he returned to the area, the auditionees had disappeared, most likely taken to wherever they were staying. He pushed open the door, the force behind it making it almost slam against the wall, which caught the attention of the two men inside.
“Seonghwa, darling! Why are you here? I’m surprised that you came all the way over here. Did we forget something today? I’m sorry if we did, Mingi and I got really invested in this new song we’re preparing for the comeback next year.” Hongjoong rambled, maybe already knowing that he was in trouble.
“Sure. It’s definitely not because you yelled and got upset with the auditionees for something they didn’t know about, and who are innocent bystanders caught between your valid dislike of KQ decisions, and the company’s decision to bring in a new member. No matter how valid your feelings are, Kim Hongjoong, it doesn’t excuse that you got upset at people who have nothing to do with the situation.” Seonghwa told him, moving closer as he did so.
“I don’t want a new member, we’re fine as we are now. They should know that they’re not joining a group that wants them. If they know, then at least they won’t be coming in blind.” Hongjoong tried to defend his actions.
Seonghwa was fed up with his excuses, and slapped his pack alpha. The slap was enough to make Hongjoong’s head turn to the side,and the action shocked both of the alphas in the room. Seonghwa had never done that before, no matter how angry he had gotten at any of them.
“You made them stand out in the hallway, and I know you, you gave them the most difficult songs, just so you could see them not live up to your standards, knowing that none of them have been through idol training. So that you could falsely justify that none of them fit as a part of Ateez. So don’t try and justify your actions. I thought that you could put your frustrations aside, and not take them out on innocents. But I guess I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did. Because this is not the Kim Hongjoong I know, nor the pack alpha I know.” Seonghwa said, as he stared down Ateez’s captain with a look of pure disappointment in his eyes.
“I can’t stand to be here. Apologize to the group of auditionees if you want me to talk to you again.” Seonghwa told him, before turning around and walking out the door, ignoring Hongjoong’s pleas for the pack omega to come back.
“You fucked up, hyung. And now you have to fix it. You were right, none of us are happy to get a new member. But at least the others are hiding their feelings, and at least trying to be welcoming. Instead, you never hid your distaste for this whole situation. Sure, maybe they now know that you, nor the rest of us weren’t informed about until yesterday. But now you’ve gone and basically told them that they’re not wanted, that they’re never going to meet your standards for Ateez. I’d bet a good few of them are Atinys, and you really just went against everything you’ve ever said to Atiny. I wonder how many of them will leave Seoul at the end of this, not trusting a word we say, ever again. How many of them you may have just ruined Ateez for. Good luck fixing this hyung.” Mingi lectured Hongjoong, before getting up and leaving himself.
Hongjoong stared at the door as it closed behind Mingi, leaving the alpha in the room by himself, and suddenly everything felt like too much. He only wanted to protect his members. Ateez was his baby, he’s worked on every song and concept and he resented the company for forcing another member on them. For forcing him to now have to change the lore, the line distribution, to have to change it for every single title track. And they’re so close to their next comeback, how are they supposed to refilm music videos, re-record songs, on such short notice? He leaned over the desk, his head in his hands, and he felt tears fall. He had disappointed Seonghwa, Mingi, and probably the others too. He’d have to figure out a way out of this mess, and fix everything. He realized in that moment, just how much he had fucked up.
Hours later, after never hearing anything from their pack alpha, Seonghwa made the trip back to the same studio. Inside, he found Hongjoong in the same chair he left him in, his head laying on the desk and evidence of dried tear tracks on his cheeks. He sighed, leaving the studio temporarily, coming back with a blanket from Hongjoong’s personal studio and laying it over the alpha’s shoulders. He still didn’t want to talk to the man, but he wouldn’t leave him alone like this.
“Chan-hyung, can I ask you for a favor?”
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Taglist: @bethelighthalazia @ja3hwa @scarfac3 @smally97 @iyeeeverydee
@lxsunshine @ismelllikechlorine247 @fr34k4c1dr41n @ateez-atiny380 @sapphirewaves
@davinashifts333 @cookiesandcreammy @not-straight-kait @hoeforalbedo @calisnewworld
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Taglist is: open!
#newworldnet#ateez x reader#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#jeong yunho#yeosang#san#mingi#jung wooyoung#jongho#abo series#a/b/o au#ateez series
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hiiiiiiiiii I've had three glasses of wine and here's a WIP preview of the fic I'm calling "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood (Library)" (aka Steve Rogers gets a library card circa 2011 and quickly learns about Librarians Vs. The PATRIOT Act)
“I can help who’s next.”
The next man in line at the reference desk of the Brooklyn Public Library was so handsome that Marian’s brain quickly supplied a list of five potential nicknames for him that the staff could use among themselves if he became a regular.
“Hi, I was uh, wondering about getting a library card?”
“Sure, I can help you with that! Are you a Brooklyn resident?”
“For a long time.”
“Have you had a card with us before? If you have I’ll check and see if you’re still in our system.”
“I did, but it was a very long time ago.” Neighborhood kid, she wondered, maybe just moved back to the old stomping grounds?
“Well, we keep the records for a couple of years, and we do like to check so we avoid duplicates. What would the name on file have been?”
“Is there something else you can search by?”
“If it’s under a name you don’t use we can try address and date of birth.”
“My birthday’s July 4th.”
A year would have been helpful, but they could circle back to that. “What’s it like sharing a birthday with a country?” she asked as she started typing.
“Well, the fireworks always made me feel special when I was a kid.”
“I’m sure. Do you remember what address we might have had on file?”
He took a moment to reply, and when he did his voice was calm, but soft enough that she had to learn forward to hear him. “I don’t think it’s there anymore.”
House fire? Gentrification?
This sort of thing happened from time to time—a patron came in who clearly had a story that made getting them what they needed less straightforward that it might otherwise have been. That wasn’t a problem; sorting that sort of thing was literally what the fine people of Brooklyn paid her for, but she was always curious about people’s stories. Sometimes they told you, sometimes they didn’t. She wasn’t going to ask, though. Curiosity or no, it was ultimately none of her business.
“None of that’s a problem,” she assured him. “I can make you a new card right now, if you have an ID and proof of address. Driver’s license would work for both, or a passport, state ID, student ID plus a piece of mail…”
“This is going to sound like a silly question, probably…” He looked at the ceiling, like he was trying to figure out how to phrase it.
“No such thing,” she said lightly. “Besides, we’ve probably heard it before. Probably ten times a day.”
“If I do get a card, does anyone…know? Besides you all, I mean.”
Marian sat straighter in her chair and immediately became all business. “Not a silly question at all. Any record that identifies you by name is confidential under New York state law. We don’t even let law enforcement have it.”
A genuine grin dawned on his face and she immediately thought of three more possible nicknames. “Seriously?”
“Not unless they’ve got a warrant or a subpoena.”
“Huh. But it would have to be under my legal name?”
“We do need to have it on file, but if you have a name you’d rather use, we can make a note in the record. That’s the name your mail would come addressed to, and what the staff would call you.”
She watched him glance down, smile, and put a hand in his pocket.
“Yeah,” he said, producing his wallet and handing her his ID. “In that case.”
She set the ID on the counter in front of her while she opened a new card registration form and didn’t give it a proper look until she had her hands on the keyboard.
Well. That certainly explained a lot.
After entering ROGERS STEVEN GRANT into the record in a rapid clatter of keyboard strokes, she glanced back up at him and said, “What would you like me to put in the preferred name field.”
He gave it a moment’s thought. “Fred.”
She couldn’t suppress a smirk. “Excellent choice. Same last name?”
“Joke’s not as good if I change it.”
“Fair point.” She grabbed a fresh card from the drawer and scanned the barcode into the system, then saved the record. “Welcome to the Brooklyn Public Library, Mr. Rogers.”
#fic#mine#steve rogers#captain america#wip#mg says stuff#fixed the typos thank u augacity#best friend for this very reason
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i’m really curious to hear what everyone thinks The Secret Project™ is going to be. as much as i would absolutely love for it to be a tour, i don’t think that’s it just because
1. dan just wrapped up WAD very recently & i would be surprised if he was ready to tour again so soon
2. the hiatus has only been over for 7 (ish?) months, and though i know nothing about touring i feel like it would take much longer than that to plan, organize, and execute a tour (especially with the performance level dnp have always aimed for)
on stream they said they started the channel back just to see how it went and were shocked by how well-received it was, so i feel like The Secret Project™ would have to be something they could’ve cooked up just within the last few months
i’m curious to hear what everyone else thinks though as i could definitely be way off in my thinking (and i also don’t really have any other ideas of what it could be except for a hard launch)
#pls reply or rb with your thoughts#this has been plaguing my mind since the second twitter video#what are they up to#and why did dan tell us to emotionally prepare#dan and phil#amazingphil#daniel howell#danisnotonfire#dapg#phan#dapgames#phil lester#dnp
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Totally Legit Recap of 2.3 Trailer
Screwllum, Dr. Ratio and Jade plan to turn Firefly into Butterfly, using the power of Jade’s jade.
It would be very costly to use a cornerstone for such a reason, but Jade has pygolampidaphobia (the fear of fireflies) and needs for this to be done.
Sparkle, an avid firefly fan, catches whiff of this scheme and warns the trailblazer.
“We need a bomb to prevent your little firefly from becoming a butterfly, the universe’s very existence depends on it”.
After expressing brief annoyance of being distracted from Robin’s “Yo, Where did my Bro go” concert, the trailblazer agrees to help.
While Sparkle and the trailblazer make a million Sparkle plushies. Firefly was watching and listening in the whole time. Her eyes widened in shock, a butterfly? She could not let this happen, lest her eyes begin to waterfall.😔
As much as she appreciated her friends’ help, Firefly knew that the only way to truly prevent Butterfly from becoming a reality was to fulfill the script, her third, and final death.
Firefly watched as Sparkle held up one of the plushies. The altruistic Sparkle put something inside the doll, and its eyes began to glow.
“That must be the one” Firefly thought.
At that moment, Sparkle gets a call. She looks at the contact and her eyes light up, showing the trailblazer the phone. The two of them exit the room, leaving the Sparkle plush unattended.
Firefly quickly grabs the doll, activates SAM, and takes to the sky one last time, not knowing that she just made a grave mistake.
That was not the bomb…
Just as Firefly begins her ascent, Sparkle and the trailblazer answer the plot-twisting call, a call, from Boothill.
Sparkle speaks first, “Are you in position”?
Boothill says something southern in confirmation
“Haha, great! Now we just wait.”
Boothill waits in southern silence
The trailblazer goes back into the room only to quickly run out. “It’s gone!”
“What!? Who took it?”
The Galactic Baseballer frantically shakes their head. “I don’t know, but that was our prototype of singing Sparkles, how are we supposed to profit off of Robin’s depressive episode now?”
The twin-tail maniac then sighs. “Okay, you know what? Change of plans. Boothill, don’t just get Jade, blow up that entire airship, NOW!”
Boothill southernly ends the call
After ending the call, Boothill smashes through one of the Feldspar airship’s windows. As he falls, he takes carful aim with his gun, a gun that contains the real bomb, the Bullet Bill Bomb!
Firefly continues to fly higher and higher, and out of anxiety (anticipation?) of what’s about to happen, she squeezes the Sparkle plush.
A sounds emanates from the Sparkle wannabe.
Firefly stops and hovers in the air. She turns the doll around and opens the velcro on the back. Inside the doll was, a toy speaker? And it’s playing Robin’s new super depressive song!?
The surprisingly not short girl paled. If this wasn’t the bomb, then-
She quickly looks down, but it’s too late.
The Bullet Bill Bomb had been shot. The Feldspar airship exploded in a beautiful burst. Bystanders watching from Robin’s concert cheered, mistaking it for a firework. The trailblazer rejoiced, believing that her dear friend was saved. Robin wondered where her brother was.
In a last attempt to save everyone aboard, Aventurine used his skill, but due to his cursed luck, he could only shield himself.
Topaz, Jade, and Screwllum? All dead. Boothill? He too, fell to his demise.
Aventurine plummeted to the ground. His landing, though not graceful, was one that didn’t kill him, it never would…
He looked up, dazed and confused, trying to process what had just occurred.
Just then, with worm Aha powers, Ratio suddenly appeared in front of him, concern and anger in his expression.
Aventurine swallowed the lump in his throat, he knew what had happened, but he had to ask, even if it was just to stamp out that last shred of hope that stubbornly lingered.
“Are they… did anyone else survive?”
One glance at Ratio’s somber expression told him more than words ever would. Aventurine let out a pitiful laugh.
“Ha… of course”. He took a breath before questioning, “How, wh-why did this happen?”
Ratio, using Ratio knowledge, explained the entire plot to Aventurine.
Aventurine’s eyes narrowed.
If Firefly had just let her friends take care of things, Jade could have been the only causality. He didn’t care about her, and Screwllum? SCREW HIM!
Topaz was the only one he considered a friend there, and she’s now gone too.
Aventurine was tired of luck taking people away from him, from now on, he’s taking it into his own hands.
As Ratio helps the lovely blond director up to his feet, they watch as Firefly makes her escape, like a shooting star in the night. That was his target.
Firefly then spends the rest of her years on the run, only trying to escape the imaginary duo. It seems that her script was fulfilled. She truly died a horrid death, the death of her dignity, her (some other important thing), and her heart.
#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai: star rail#aventurine#dr ratio#honkai sr#dr ratio hsr#hsr dr ratio#aventurine honkai star rail#dr. ratio#jade hsr#firefly hsr#firefly#sparkle hsr#hsr sparkle#screwllum#trailblazer#dr ratio worm theory#topaz honkai star rail#honkai star rail topaz#boothill honkai star rail#hsr robin#robin hsr#sunday star rail#hsr sunday#hsr spoilers#2.3 spoilers#2.3 hsr#hsr 2.3#I wrote this at midnight so I’m just now seeing all of the grammatical errors… I’m slowly fixing them.
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