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#for the first time in his many many many lives
simpjaes · 2 days
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DAY-SHIFT. (p. sh)
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― part one here! After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided. or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy. 
minors dni 
PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader  
WORDCOUNT― 14.5k 
CONTENT― forbidden office romance kind of, smidge of angst if ur sensitive, mentions of predatory behavior from sunghoon, he is more desperate than he is dominant, just the way we like it.
NOTE ― bro im so sorry this took way too long to write, it also is way longer than it's supposed to be. but yknow. i had to do him right lmfao. NOT PROOF READ.
nsfw tags under cut
nsfw tags― perverted sunghoon, heavy petting, making out, foreplay on a chair lol, desk sex, very intimate shit ok? ok., pussy eating, jerking off, finger fucking, fingers-in-mouth antics, gagging, implications of something more than just an office fling, unprotected sex, he fills you UP!!! YIPEE!!! 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Avoidance.
That is the only way you know out of any awkward or unsavory situation. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Find a new job, change your name, dye your hair– question all of your life choices up to this point.
It’s the fact that never in your life have you had an interest in live sex cams. It was always just a porn video or a nice erotic novel for you. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you though, like it does all people, and it’s not like you thought anyone would ever know who you are or catch you in the act of feeding into your curiosities. 
The one time you ever navigated to the live camera feed on your favorite porn site did shift your sexual appetite a little bit. A whole new world of seeing exactly what you want without needing to search for far too long for that perfect video…for a cost, of course.
You made good money already, and it’s not like you weren’t going for that promotion at the time either. You thought, why not? Why not pay a pretty, faceless man for some anonymous jerking off and move on with your life? 
The one time you found something to satiate the late night body-cravings, the point of pleasure ended up being…your boss?
Small world? Miniscule, fucking tiny little world. 
For days you wondered if Sunghoon’s text to you was just a coincidence. After all, the faceless man on screen didn’t say a word to you after you uttered the name of your boss. Even if he directly said your name. Even if Park Sunghoon uttered your false name at work. 
Consistent back and forth in your head. From, “No, how could that even be possible? No way is it him.” to “but Mr.Park started being weird after the first call, he used both names, he played off of the boss/employee dynamic.”
You’re going crazy as you send another email to your department, apologizing for taking so many days off but not truly apologetic. It’s been ten days now and Sunghoon has yet to text you again. 
That little “Can we talk?” can be heard in your head in his voice. Only now recognizing how clear and unique it truly is when he does speak. You try not to realize how similar the cam-boy sounded to him. Only connecting the dots when they force you to do it, really. You still try to convince yourself that the text was about firing you, given his actions at work that very same day. 
Maybe he was avoiding you because he felt awful about needing to fire you? 
Maybe he sent that text message to start the process of pushing you out? 
After all, it’s still very difficult to imagine Park Sunghoon having a cock that nice, or cum in that amount. Given, it’s not like you ever thought about him jerking off or anything, it’s just–
You don’t fucking know. Your brain is a mess of shaking anxiety and echoes of sexual frustrations and moans. 
You were refunded your money. He texted after the session. He said your name. It’s him, isn’t it?
You refuse to fucking find out.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
From:...[ [email protected] ]
BCC:...
Subject: Time off Request: Rejected. Insufficient PTO.
[insert your name here],
The time you have requested from the 27th to the 3rd has been rejected due to insufficient hours. As of last Thursday, you are no longer meeting the minimum hour requirement as a full-time employee. Your PTO is at 0 hours and 00 minutes and you now have three unexcused absences. Please return tomorrow with a signed order or note that exempts you from work. If you move forward without returning to the building, this will be grounds for termination. Please review the company handbook and job abandonment guidelines. 
Additionally, COO Lee, myself, and Division manager Park will be scheduling a meeting with you in the upcoming days, failure to appear will result in immediate termination.
Thank you,
HR
Well, fuck. You knew the time to avoid this would dry up, and this ten day hideaway to fake your death didn’t quite pan out.
Devastating, truly, that you have to walk through those doors with the same legs your boss may or may not have seen spread open for him through a grainy webcam image. Horrifying, that you have to look him in the eye and explain that you really were sick for the past ten days, that you definitely were not hiding the shame of your sexual desires.
The worst part about all of this? Not just the embarrassment but the fact that…you liked it. On that night, had he admitted it was him, you may not have ended the call yourself. It felt like it added some danger to your arousal at the time. Which, naturally, makes you more embarrassed now. Mostly because, at worst if that was Mr.Park, it was predatory. At best though? You very well may have consented.
But the what ifs don’t matter now. The only thing that matters is forcing yourself through the awkwardness of being at work after avoiding it for so long already.
Fortunately for you though, work is…weirdly normal. In fact, no one acts like you’ve missed ten days at all. You are greeted by the usual co-workers, you sit down at your desk and can log in as usual, and there are no warning emails or invitations for what would be considered a meeting of termination either. 
The day goes by just fine, suspiciously so. Sunghoon, though you’re avoiding him at the moment, doesn’t appear to be too out of character either. At one point, you were forced to drop corrected paper work off in his office, and he gave you the same usual and small “Thank you” before you stepped out with your legs threatening to buckle. 
Then again, his “casual” appreciation could just be your mind playing positive little tricks on you. Maybe it wasn’t casual at all. Maybe that little uncharacteristic breath afterwards isn’t just in your head. You didn’t make eye contact with him during that brief moment, and you did rush out quite quickly so you wouldn’t really know. However, in the deepest part of your brain his voice really does match the one who said all those dirty things to you. 
Maybe you’re still overreacting.
Or maybe you dreamed all of this up. 
You choose to remain unaware of the awkwardness around you solely because everything else is normal. Deep, deep down, you know. But you’re not giving that truth a chance to thrive or run your brain anymore.
And just as the day comes to an end, you’re actually feeling better. Anxiety is draining out of you, fear and embarrassment sit dormant in some hidden part of your brain over the small possibility of virtually fucking your boss. It seems you’ve let this work day clear up all of that fear in your head.
You were wrong, right? It wasn’t him, right? He’d have tried to defend himself by now. What boss wouldn’t be absolutely terrified that you’d report him, anyway? After all of that?
You actually feel a little dumb at the possibility of Mr. Park ever wanting you sexually, or ever even wanting to speak to you in that way. Asking to see your pussy? Telling you how to touch it? No, that’s definitely not him. Couldn’t be him. 
And your eyes do stray after a little while. Just to steal glimpses into his office, feeling relieved and weightless now that it appears your fears are over and finally understood. Doesn’t change the fact that now when you look at him, you might be wildly fucking attracted to him. Because fuck, imagine if that was him. You’re kind of forced to put his image to the faceless cam-boy now, not that you want to do that or anything. It just…you can’t really blame yourself for it.
You lend yourself a little laugh. As happy as you are that you’re able to convince yourself that it’s not Sunghoon’s cock you’ve yearned for, you really wouldn’t mind sleeping with someone as handsome as him. 
Crazy how the lack of anxiety lets you think those types of things though, isn’t it? When your brain is no longer fogged by fear or embarrassment, it’s like the clarity can sometimes be scarier simply because you don’t know how true certain statements are. Even through all of that fear, maybe a part of you wished it was him. 
Even with the weight on your shoulders lifted, in hindsight, maybe you’re even a little disappointed that it wasn’t. 
And, just as you’re preparing to clock out and head home with a big secret crush and a little pep in your step, you hear the familiar notification of an email. No problem, probably just a daily report or something. 
From:...[ [email protected] ]
CC:...
BCC:...
Subject: Mandatory Advising
[insert your name here],
Please come to my office before you leave for the day to discuss your conduct as of late. 
Thank you,
Park Sunghoon
Division Manager
000-000-0000 ext. 000
Well, double fuck. To think everything was fine despite you being well aware of that shit HR said to you previously? 
You barely recognize how the email is sent directly to you from Mr. Park, not including HR or COO Lee. In fact, the anxiety wells up inside of you so quickly that you nearly have to dry heave a few times before taking a deep breath. 
In your head, it’s not even about the web-cam session with a faceless man anymore. Your anxiety about that died the moment you successfully lied to yourself enough, now you’re genuinely just afraid you’ll lose your job or that beloved promotion you worked so hard to be qualified for. You just had to let your anxiety run your life for the past ten days, didn’t you? After all, skipping work to such an extent? Everyone had to have known that it was a lie eventually.  
So, you stand to your feet, brush off your thighs, and attempt to keep your heart from pounding as you make your way to Mr. Park’s office expecting to see HR, COO Lee, and a severance package on the desk waiting for your signature. 
Instead, you walk in to just find your boss. He’s looking at you as he normally would, eyes focused on his screen before glancing at you for a moment and nodding his head to one of the chairs in front of his desk. 
“Mr. Park–” You start, nearly wincing at the way you say it because, well, you haven’t said it since the night you had your pussy out on display. It’s only natural to physically react, right?
“One moment.” He says in a small voice, clicking a few times with the mouse as you watch the monitor light shine across his cheeks with each window he minimizes. 
It’s silent for a few moments as you awkwardly look around an office you’ve been in countless times. His lights are always dimmed, the temperature is always comfortable. You’re gonna miss this office, though it’s not your own. It was a nice, brief escape before all of this if you’re being honest. 
“How was work for you today?” He turns his attention to you, finally adjusting and rolling his chair to center himself in front of you behind his desk 
You pause at the question, unintentionally tilting your head at it like a puppy. “Good? Normal, I guess?” 
You watch as he nods with a tight-lipped expression, eyes falling to his desk as he takes in a deep and disappointed sounding breath. 
“Well, that’s one of us.” He huffs out, causing you to feel a bit confused with his tone. Is he being…passive aggressive? And when he snaps his eyes from his desk straight to your own confused gaze, you can almost sense a bit of something else in them compared to usual. 
Not anger. Not disappointment. 
He looks worried.
“Eleven days–” Sunghoon drones on with an exhausted tone, cutting himself off with another breath that shows you were right to assume his current displayed emotion. “You have ignored my text messages for eleven days.” 
You’re shocked by that because as far as you’re concerned, he has not texted you.
“What are you–” You furrow your brows at him, frantically pulling out your phone. “You haven’t texted me. See? The last one I got was–” You take a second as you pull up his texts and remember the exact time he texted you. So late into the night, right after…that. Naturally, you silence yourself, afraid to say it out loud.
“On the contrary,” Sunghoon denies your proof. “I texted from my personal phone.”
You hesitate again, looking down and noting the notifications under the tab of  “message requests.” To be fucking fair though, you didn’t even know that existed so you never really paid attention to it. Especially as you practically avoided your phone out of fear that he’d be texting you again. 
You were thankful he didn’t. That comforted you. Now though? Your comfort is replaced yet again with anxiety because, well, he texted you consistently after that night.
“Oh–” You say quietly, seeing a glimpse of “Please, let me call y–” in one of the messages.
“I didn’t see those.” Quickly, you turn your screen off and shove your phone back into your pocket, nervously clasping your hands in front of you and looking to the floor. 
“I will reiterate then.” 
You can hear the leather on his chair squeak against his expensive suit when he leans forward, both hands splayed out on his desk in a wide and intimidating stance in front of you. 
“Wait–” You look around the office now. “If you’re going to fire me– shouldn’t the others be here too?”
Sunghoon pulls back at that, narrowing his eyes before lending a very small and even more nervous chuckle.
“I’m not firing you. I told them I’d take care of your sudden and, quite frankly, unhelpful vacation.” 
You look to the floor again, feeling scolded for your actions but having a genuine reason. If Sunghoon truly is aware of that reason for your absence, he understands too, right?
“I have been beyond inappropriate with you.” He blurts now, that same leather squeaking as he leans back again and looks away from you the moment you snap your head up. “I have reason to believe you’ve not yet reported me, and I’d like to ask for the opportunity to explain myself before you do.” 
You feel a chill wash over your whole body, cold sweat peaking right at your temples as you stare forward. He’s being so professional about this, and that lie you’ve convinced yourself of is showing it’s face as just that, a fucking lie.
So this is it? 
So there it is? A semi-admittance that it was him? That little feeling in the back of your head that wishes it was diminishes within an instant. In fact, you narrow your eyes at him, your nose crinkles, and you feel frustration bubble up in your gut.
“So you admit that it was you?” You ask, needing a full confirmation. 
“Yes.” Sunghoon sighs, leaning back somehow further, creating as much distance from you as possible before unintentionally rolling his eyes. Mostly due to the fact that he was stupid enough to let this happen, mostly to shame himself. “What I did was inappropriate and unacceptable. I didn’t intend for this to ever happen.”
Now you feel a bit…pissed off.
Like? Oh, he didn’t intend for this to happen? What? You mean he didn’t intend to let you fucking find out! Well, as good as he is at playing the part of a slutty man on the internet, he’s not so good at acting in real life, now is he? Saying your false fucking name at work, saying your real name with his cock out?
What in the fuck are you supposed to do about this? Why is he giving you the ability to report him? He’s the one with the power here. He could fire you now and bury the information if he so pleased. After all, He’s besties with COO Lee, right? That bitch in HR has an obsession with him too. Hell, everyone here loves the guy. 
You’re just a bottom of the barrel employee trying to work your way up. If you got him fired, surely he’d make damn sure you never work for a decent company like this one again. Additionally, you don’t even want to report him.
Yeah, it was fucking weird that he just knew it was you and kept going. Super strange that he had to have known after the first call, only to ask to see you in the second one. Why does that turn you on in the midst of this anxiety induced spiral? Why the fuck is the idea of Park Sunghoon apologizing for masturbating to and for you so alluring?! 
Sure, maybe it’s kind of nice knowing that someone of his status would ever find an interest in you, but it doesn’t quite wash the frustration away. You have every right to question, and every right to be pissed off about it. 
Still, in this quiet room, Sunghoon is stoic and all you can think about when you look at him is the way he said “if I were your boss i’d–” and the way he fucked his palm while saying it, implying he wanted it to be you while simultaneously knowing it was you watching. 
Since fucking when did Mr. Park ever show a sexual interest in you? And if he did, why the fuck couldn’t he have just been normal about it?
“That was really fucked up, you know that?” You argue immediately, voice shaking at the speed of which your emotions shift. Your resolve isn’t quite as clear as it probably should be. Perhaps you should report him, or maybe you already should have. But, it’s not like you accepted the truth until he demanded it of you.
You would have let it slide. Both of you could have pretended it never happened. You could’ve gone home and continued working, never paying a cam-boy again had Sunghoon not called you into this stupid, comfortable ass office. 
“In my defense, I was just doing my job. Though it’s my own fault for not telling you, my job here was at risk if you had found out.”
“You made me talk about you.” You roll your eyes at him now, gaining the power and control over the conversation. “And you thought I wouldn’t find out?! What? Did that get you off or something?”
“I–” Sunghoon stops himself from answering that question truthfully. He quickly tries to explain away the stutter instead. Never has he been scolded by an employee, but you’re well within your rights to do so. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I never get called by name during these sessions and I apologize for having you say it.”
“And you want me to report you?” You raise a brow at him. “Want me to just storm right into HR and tell her how you’re a fucking pervert? Want me to tell her how you told me to repeat your name? To thank you for it? Is that really what you want?” 
Are you enjoying yourself a little too much? Maybe.
Sunghoon doesn’t respond though, instead, he runs his hand through his hair and sighs from the stress welling up inside of him. He can only act calm and collected for so long, and it’s been eleven days already. He hates how hearing you say those words goes straight to his cock at a time like this, he hates even more how all of this could have been avoided if he had simply declined your second call. 
But you’re not wrong. He is a pervert, and he did tell you to thank him for the pleasure you were getting from his voice and half image alone. At the time, he was so turned on he really just couldn’t help himself. You fed his sexual appetite unknowingly and now this is the consequence of his action. Being a known pervert.
Is it what he wants though? To be reported? Humiliated?
Fuck.
Arguably, just having you humiliate him like this is enough. Drives him crazy, really. Whether it be from arousal or guilt, or both. 
And for the first time since you started working here, you see him for what he truly is. A strong man to an extent, but he’s crumbling under his own mistake and it makes you wonder just how far he would’ve taken it had you not found out. 
“And what if I didn’t realize who I was fucking myself for?” You glare. “Would you have asked for more? Avoided me here even more? Would you have declined my application for the assistant position because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re a fucking pervert?!”
Sunghoon raises his hands in defense. 
“Please–” His voice sounds panicked. “Please, keep your voice down.”
“Answer the question, then. Just fucking own it at this point.” You throw your arms up now, letting them fall back down in a slap to your thighs. “Would you have made my work-life miserable just so you could watch me get off to you? Knowing the whole time? Would you have kept on with that boss slash employee shit just so it felt more real for you?” 
Staring forward at him, you watch him accept that everything you’re saying is likely exactly what would have happened. Maybe he really will try to own it. Which would be… a good thing if you decide to let your own resolve falter.
So fucking secretive, huh? An actual, real life degenerate? And it’s Sunghoon of all people? 
“Maybe…” Sunghoon trails off, making himself seem much smaller than he usually is on a day-to-day basis. “I mean, No–I,”
Oh, he’s actually stuttering.
“And you want me to tell on you? You want me to fuck your life up?” You raise a brow. “As if I didn’t pay you to do it?”
In all honesty, aside from the anxiety and awkwardness, and despite never once thinking of Sunghoon too sexually, things have changed. Drastically. Especially after being confronted with this situation and he’s not intimidating you or using his power to control you. No, he’s giving you the power and quite frankly, you don’t know what to do with it. 
Are you basking in it? Absolutely. Is it nice to see him cower in front of you? In that big plush chair that costs more than your monthly income? Hell yeah.
But goddamn, had he approached you before all of this and asked for a date, or showed interest, you would have gladly partaken in a secret romance with him. He’s intelligent, attractive, clean, and has money. It’s not like you ever expected the guy to go home and fuck himself on camera. 
You never thought he was the type to be so lonely either. Or so desperate, judging by how he acted during those two sessions. Arguably, you always wondered why there was never a ring on those pristine fingers. 
And while you were definitely the victim in this situation, you feel more embarrassed than you do violated. Many nights you thought of how he spoke, how he said how badly he wanted you. It’s embarrassing because you’re starting to love the idea of who those words really came from. The Park Sunghoon, so untouchable in the business world. So untouchable by women and men solely because he appears to be too expensive, too pristine.
But you…
You’ve seen him dirty. 
Part of you wishes you didn’t pay to be humiliated like this. The rest of you wishes you didn’t fucking like it as much as you do.
“It’s only fair.” Sunghoon explains with a short breath. “I feel awful for what I’ve done, and I should have told you the moment I recognized her as, well–” He pauses with a pained face, as if he hates hearing himself say it. “You.”
“Then, why didn’t you?” You raise your brow again, nearly forgetting you’re at work, solely focused on the conversation at hand and feeling relieved at the way it’s going.
Sunghoon shifts in discomfort, looking away from you.
“Do you want honesty?” He asks in a quiet voice, leaning forward on his desk but refusing eye contact. He keeps his gaze lowered the entire time, his voice small and shaky. 
There’s still people in the office, though his door is closed and it’s unlikely he can be heard.
You nod to him with an even smaller “Go on then.”
“I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t you.” He says, shifting his hands and picking at his cuticles. 
Man, he really knows how to act sorry, doesn’t he?
“I avoided you after that first call, solely because I think I wanted her to be you. Which is…incredibly inappropriate.” 
He looks up at you now, searching for a reaction and only seeing you nod at him. His eyes shift right back down as he continues. 
“My avoiding you led you to– um– more services.” He explains quieter, admitting in full the situation he’s allowed to take place, seeming more and more insecure with his words than he ever has before. “I can admit that I have fantasies and needs.” 
Silence. 
“After that first call, I couldn’t help but be entirely attracted to you. The idea of–”
You suddenly find yourself thinking back to all of those things he said to you again, parading as if he wasn’t your boss, telling you what he'd do if he were. He seems to have accidentally found a sexual interest in the dynamic…and he fucking dragged you into it with him. 
“Mr. Par– Sunghoon.” You cut him off, actually feeling a bit of pity now at his admittance. 
His words make you feel like maybe he’s not entirely just a pervert who was intending to make you get off to him from the start. If anything, he probably felt uncomfortable at first knowing who was on the other end of the call. It’s the fact that his real life job was at risk if you found out, and still he indulged despite that. He accepted that second call, he asked for more, he acted like he really does want you.
 To the extent that losing his job was in the front of his mind and he still did it. He ignored the danger of it and prioritized getting off…with you. You find yourself wondering if this would have happened to any other employee under him if they happened to stumble across his stream too. 
Part of you wants to pretend he wouldn’t, because the idea that all of this is happening solely because it was you? It hits a little too hard, a little too deep. 
“Okay, okay. Stop,” You say, keeping your eyes on him and willing him to look up at you. “You don’t have to keep explaining, I get it.”
“No.” He does meet your eye this time, stopping your brain of all thoughts at how differently you see him now versus all the times before. “I do.” 
He’s so honest. Probably too honest for his own good. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at his job, maybe that’s why everyone loves him. Maybe a bit of lying would help him in this situation if it were anyone else, but for you? 
You kind of enjoy the way he’s telling the truth. Admitting that he was desperate, apologizing for wanting you even if just for a brief moment.
“I asked you to turn on your camera for selfish reasons. I asked you to say my name, then I made the mistake of exposing myself because I–” He hesitates, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. “I struggled to pretend it wasn’t me, and that she wasn’t you. I very well knew what I was doing, and at the time, I wished that you did too.”
More silence as you stare at him, stunned, slightly in awe. 
“But I knew you wouldn’t have reciprocated. What I’ve done is criminal, and I am encouraging you to report me for it if that’s what you deem necessary.” 
“And if I don’t?” You don’t leave any more room for silence now, feeling desired and validated. 
You can’t pretend that you’re mad, though you were previously. You simply can’t pretend that, now at least, you wouldn’t reciprocate. If anything, you’re more interested now than you think you ever would have been before. 
“We can forget any of this ever happened. I’ll stop streaming and accepting private calls, and we can hopefully move forward without any ill-feelings of one another.” He blinks at you, near pleading with his eyes. “I’ll push your application through– That is, if you still want the position.” 
Sunghoon does wince at the bribe, considering he’s never done such a thing let alone commit acts of sexual harassment, or perhaps even non consensual foreplay with someone. It really really wasn’t entirely intentional, and he’s disgusted with himself. If you report him, he’d take the hit to his reputation and career, but if you don’t…what then?
Ill-feelings, he says? If anything, you might feel more ill parading around like you wouldn’t want him to do all of those things he said previously, with free-will to say as he pleased without the fear of you knowing who the words were coming from. 
“Can you please stop with the professional talk?” You hum out with an exhausted eye roll.  “I don’t want the promotion if you’re just offering it so I don’t rat you out.” You narrow your eyes now and lean yourself forward. “You hope to forget this ever happened? Really?” 
Carefully, the two of you watch each other for a while longer. Sunghoon looking like he’s about to catch himself on fire, and you, looking annoyed and amused. Still, the thick air in the room starts to feel suffocating under the pressure of the “issue” at hand as you scold him further. 
“What you did was predatory. But– I don’t want to ruin your life over this.” 
You watch as Sunghoon listens, his posture opening up a bit more as you speak, showing that he’s being relieved of his stress through your words alone. 
“Are you trying to hold a promotion over my head over this?”
Before he gets the chance to curl in on himself again, you answer for him. 
“Maybe.” 
You continue too, not letting him speak for the time being. Or, rather, giving him a chance to breathe. 
“Should you change your username and continue doing what you want behind closed doors because it’s no one else’s business?” You really watch him this time. “Yes.” 
He blinks at you, raising a brow in slight confusion. 
“Did you take advantage of me?”
He nods before you whisper out another “yes” yourself. 
“Would I let you do it again…?”
Oh, for Sunghoon, it’s hard to breathe right now as he anticipates what you’ll say. Is it going to be a ‘no’ this time? Are you going to stand up and change your mind? Despite just stating you don’t want to ruin his life?
God, hasn’t he already let you?
“Yes.”
Pause. 
“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon responds in disbelief, shifting his eyes to his hands and then back to you. “Come again?”
“Sunghoon.” You make it a point to call him by his name now, ignoring the etiquette of a proper boss and employee dynamic. “I am humiliated by all of this but I can see that you are too. You’ve admitted your guilt and even go as far as encouraging that I report you.” You pause again, knowing that this isn’t where the conversation should be going for any, uh, normal person, you suppose. 
“If you had just told me. If you had said anything about wanting to, like, fuck me, I would have done it with or without the promotion on the line.”
Does that make you sound a little desperate? Yeah. But it’s not like he doesn’t know how badly you need to be fucked. After all, you know, the cam sessions and stuff. You were literally paying a stranger to get you off. 
Shouldn’t he, of all people, know that you were bad-off enough to get laid?
Sunghoon’s issue though, is that he never looks at his employees sexually. No matter how pretty, no matter how much they flaunt themselves at him. He never has, and probably never will again. If it hadn’t been for that single first session with you, all would be well. But now? He’s too attracted to you. 
He wants you so badly.
“If you tell me right now that you want me, in the same way you did on that call–” You stop yourself to really look at him. With the way he swallows, the way his lips slightly part, the way his hands show signs of eleven days worth of nervous habit cuticle picking. “If you do all of those things you said you’d do ‘if you were my boss’...”
“Wait, wait–” Sunghoon stands in a rush, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound echoing off of the walls in the office. “Do you understand the consequences of what you’re implying right now?”
“If I fuck my boss, we could both be fired?” You smile, feeling the confidence raise within you. Watching the way he reacts to your lewd words face to face rather than through a microphone. 
“That would be…correct.” He raises a brow. 
“Well, technically, you’ve already been fucking me.” You look away from him, feeling a bit shy even with the confidence, but never having spoken to a man so bluntly before like this? It’s a bit scary. “Would it really make anything worse if, you know, I do reciprocate?”
Goddamn. Sunghoon might be a bit smitten. This situation could have gone a thousand different ways, and you offer the one that includes your legs spread across this fucking desk and his face buried between them?
Oh. Never has he been so willingly turned on at work. 
“Is this what you want?” He asks in a breath, shifting his eyes to the door and walking towards it, immediately reaching for the lock but not quite turning it. 
“Is that what you want?” You counter, turning and staring at the lock. 
Sunghoon hides his nod, wanting you to be the one to answer first. After all, hasn’t he been self-indulgent enough?
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He finally breaks and says it, blatantly, not sugar coated, yet still sweet when the words hit your ears. “After all this, you still want it?” 
You nod, dipping your head a bit against your shoulder. 
Click. 
“I guess I should have known.” Sunghoon plays with his words now, hand dropping from the now locked door and eyes entirely on you. “Do you want me to fuck you, or would you prefer–”
“You.” You smile, feeling your skin prickle at the electricity that enters the room through breath and words alone. It’s the way he already shifted. Like all of that anxiety melted out of him within an instant. 
“No, no.” He stalks towards you now, the nervous Sunghoon is no longer in sight as he makes himself seem bigger, taller, far more intimidating. Just like he was on camera. “The me you saw on screen is not the same as what you’re seeing right now.” He tries to explain. 
“Oh?” You tilt your head, and he only finds that cute. 
Far too cute. 
“You’d do as I ask, right?” His voice shifts to a raspy whisper as he centers himself in front of you, both hands reaching the arms of your chair as he hovers above you. “I’m far more tame online.” 
Tame?! That’s what he calls tame?! 
You stare up at him, keeping your jaw from falling slack as you physically see him shift from being your boss into being a man with a need. Not just any need either. A need for you.
Part of you wonders if he ever truly felt bad in the first place about all of this, because the shift from just moments ago is so dramatic it’s almost scary. 
“So, tell me.” He leans down, inches from your face as his eyes start to fall to a half-lidded stare at you. “You’ll do as I say? You’d let me do it all for you, and not ask me to stop until I feel it best, yes?”
You swallow and slowly nod. Oh god, it really, really, is him. 
“And while at work, you’ll behave?” He continues, lips now ghosting over yours to the point you can almost feel them press down. He’s implying that if you don’t tell, that this won’t be the only time too? Shit. He’s entirely aware of why this shouldn’t be happening, but still making it happen.
 “No matter what I do to you, where or how I do it, you’ll behave?”
You can’t help it when you lift your chin, just a bit to rest your lips against his words, eyes falling closed and hands hesitant to reach out for his perfectly ironed shirt. 
You feel his smile against your lips, with that sharp-toothed grin he rarely offers. 
“Ah, so it’s true.” He murmurs against you, his hand reaching for yours and guiding it for you, straight to his belt. “Dirty, dirty girl.”
A small, pleased, sound leaves your throat when he does kiss you, adding his own pleased hum alongside yours as his hands still hold yours in place over his belt, not quite letting you do anything just yet.
”Gonna be quiet–” He whispers into your mouth, just against your tongue before licking out and against it. “Even when I tell you to moan my name?”
You really shouldn’t be surprised, but you still are. You like this Sunghoon better than the one who stutters and picks his cuticles. He’s owning it, and in a way, so are you. 
 After all, it wasn’t until today that you truly learned what Sunghoon is like when he’s aroused. Not that you ever should have known in the first place. The fact that you do know, the fact that he’s showing you? It just makes this all the more arousing, in your opinion.
All he needed was a green light and within seconds it seems, Sunghoon became the need you’ve been chasing for months now through porn sites and erotic novels. 
You nod to his words, trying to drop your hand just a bit to feel what you’ve already seen. Just to feel how warm he is, how—
“Is that so?” Sunghoon whispers in an amused tone, guiding your hand right back to his belt, only to drop his other hand straight between your legs. “You’re supposed to do as I say. If I tell you to moan my name, you do it.”
Oh, the sexual confusion of what to do and which Sunghoon to obey. All you can do is continue to nod for him, hanging your head with a breath at the way he cups his hand over the entirety of your core. You wore pants today in order to hide your shame, to try and feel invisible based on previous circumstances. You’re not so happy about that now, as you try to feel his touch through the thick fabric only to shamelessly thrust your hips up and against his palm.
He moves his lips to the top of your head now, hovering over you in a perfect stance of power, hand gently rubbing up and and down despite your hips asking for a harsher touch. If anything, it makes him feel better knowing how you react to this. 
In actuality, his relief is sending his arousal through the roof. Not only are you not going to rat him out but…you want more of it? More of him, in particular? Not the facade of him online? 
At this point, if he gets caught, you’re both going down in flames. So, why not enjoy the ride?
Truly, it’s laughable in the way he’s just as amused as he is turned on, relishing in the fact that he wants you and you’re letting him have you despite his past actions. You’re messy too, he’s seen it, and now he gets to feel it. 
“Mhm,” Sunghoon hums against the top of your head, now pressing his own hips forward against your hand. “Feel that?”
The electricity? How hard he is? How needy you are?
”Yeah…” You sigh absentmindedly, bumping his chin with your head when you try to look up at him. You only blink twice before he coos out with a sad little sound. 
He doesn’t say a word after as he removes his hand and instead, grabs both of your hands and places them on his shirt. 
“Go on.” He smiles, waiting to see you to start fumbling against his buttons. 
And fumble, you do. Touching him, for some reason, feels so dangerous. Knowing you’re the one removing his shirt, watching his skin be revealed as it begins to fall open by your own doing? It’s electrifying. Enough to lose your train of thought as you study how toned and smooth his skin is. Just like how you had seen on camera, so clear in front of you now. You’re aching for him by this point, being able to feel his body heat, touch him, feel his eyes on you. 
If you had really known back then who it was you were talking to, you very well may have pretended to not know as well, judging by the way your entire body catches fire for him. 
And as his shirt falls completely open, he’s satisfied with the way you do it. Complacent and docile beneath him, nervous fingers shaking much like he did for the past eleven days. With those pretty eyes looking at him, like there’s nothing in your head at all. 
He chuckles at you, grabbing your hands again and placing them right on his chest, helping your hesitant touch to massage and caress each bump and toned muscle. He intentionally flexes the further down your hands go, all the way back to his belt. 
There, he looks down at where you touch, then back at you with a quirked brow. You stare  up at him, blinking, face feeling hot, and it’s like you move your hands on instinct. The sound of his buckle being unclasped echoes in the room, and his eyes only darken with the sound.
The sound of it slipping from the loops when he takes it upon himself to remove it completely for you, the sound of his breathing, the sound of that zipper, the button, the shuffling of his pants being skewed down just enough to fit your hand inside.
He moans at the image alone, loving the way your smaller hand looks slipping down his pants, the way your breathing is somehow even as if you’re trying to keep yourself calm. So calm, so pretty, but he knows how needy you are. He shouldn’t, but he does, and he uses it to his advantage. 
You’re the one who moans this time upon feeling that little twitch of his cock urging you to grab. And he helps you too, with the way he guides your hand under the front of his pants further, forcing your fingers to grab and grope the thick of his cock, uncomfortable and pressing between his briefs and undone zipper. 
“Still, you’re just looking.” Sunghoon comments, pressing his hips forward slowly and gently. “I’m right here.” He continues to explain the situation to you, as if you’re not experiencing it. “You need me to show you how to touch me too?”
You hesitate with a groan caught in your throat. You’re still processing the size difference that you feel now versus what you saw. Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than you would have expected against your palm. Honestly, you were so focused on the fact that Sunghoon’s cock is currently fucking forward against you that you almost forgot how to jerk a man off by yourself. 
His hand had been doing all the work for you, and you’re quick to take over. 
Sunghoon lends a very small gasp at the way you try to grasp, and instantly both of his arms shoot to the chair behind your head. He grips it, dropping his chin to the top of your head before thrusting a bit harsher into the grip you try to hold on him. 
“Harder.” He exhales, his cock twitching in your weak hold. “Grab me harder.”
You do, squeezing the bulge before intentionally adjusting it for him, allowing the head of his bulbous cock to peek from the top of his briefs. 
His relieved sigh is enough, you can’t help it. With his chin sat atop your head like this, you have no choice but to watch the way he moves his hips. Just like he did on camera. His abs flex with each movement, his arms grip behind you on the chair tighter, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his desperate body even if you wanted to. 
You thrust up too, as if your body craves what you’re already touching. And you do crave it, so much so that your clit aches against the denim you’re rubbing up against. Unfortunate that you wore these fucking jeans, honestly.
“Mr. Park–” You let out a small and frustrated cry, using your other hand to try and fail at unbuttoning your own pants. 
He hides his smile at the way you’ve reverted back to his professional title, but pays no mind to it because that’s what he wanted to hear in your voice that night. A desperate sound of his name, a plea, a cry. He can’t help but cling to it and bury that pretty voice into the darkest parts of his brain. A memory he’ll revisit time and time again after this. That sound, those pretty lips, this weak grasp you have. For the time being, it’s his. You belong to him right now. 
“Hm?” He hums out, fucking his hips forward while tilting his head back to look at you. “What is it, baby?”
Oh. You lost your train of thought. 
Thankfully, he seems to do the thinking for you as he shifts his eyes down and watches you try to both please him and remove your own pants. A cute sight to him, really. Someone who was just scolding him for wanting this, fumbling for more? 
So cute. 
He chuckles, pulling his hips back from your hand and grabbing it, unbothered by the loss of your touch. Instantly he intertwines his fingers with yours, and grasps your other hand from your pants to do the same. Both your arms raise by his guidance to the back of the chair before he releases them. 
You watch with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes as he lowers himself, right onto his knees before he unbuttons your pants for you and very politely pulls them from your legs. 
“This what you want?” He smiles, lying his cheek right against your exposed thigh and taking a deep inhale. It’s taking everything in him not to fawn over the woman who had him in his thoughts for the past however long, truly. 
Then again, he’s weak. He doesn’t even look up at you through his words and, instead, nuzzles his nose right up and against the seat of your panties before inhaling with a pleasant hum. “To have me finally touching this pretty pussy for you?” 
God damn, if you didn’t already know it was him on that camera, you do now. He speaks the same type of words, with the same confidence, the same sultry tone…
You can barely comprehend the way he slowly takes his own pants off because you’re too focused on the way he runs his lips across your skin with dirty thoughts spilling from them. Fingers tucked under either side of your panties in preparation before he eventually pulls them off of you. 
“Did you wear those pants to hide yourself from me?” He comments now with an amused tone. “Knowing you wanted me to take them off of you anyway?”
You shake your head at him, holding your breath. You did wear them to hide, but you never would have expected this situation to go in a direction involving his mouth anywhere near where you need it. Sure, you assumed he would have rejected you, you assumed that if it was him– he’d have been so disgusted with himself that he’d only gag at your presence. 
But no. You were bold in your words, and he seems to feed into that. 
“No?” He furrows his brows and lifts his head. Now lowering your panties much like he did for your pants. He’s quick with his next action, seemingly hiding his own desperation through playful comments at you. “Why not?” He adds, instantly pressing his thumb against your clit and fucking shining his eyes up at you with a semi-pouted mouth. 
You roll your eyes back at the sudden pressure, relaxing your shoulders and slouching down in the chair. Your legs spread further on instinct, granting him a full view of your sticky cunt parting open for him.
His eyes glance down, peering into the heat you offered once before ever knowing it was him looking. Clicking his tongue, he can’t help but bite his lower lip to hold himself back. He hopes you don’t notice the way his hand finds its way to his own cock, he really, really hopes you don’t see him act so pathetic over this. 
But you do. The moment your eyes roll back into place and get a look at him. One of his shoulders is moving, but the action is hidden by not only the chair, but his fucking face. He’s got his lips parted and he’s licking his lower lip. Slicking it up with his own saliva before–
“So quiet,” He hums with glistening lips, lending himself a light hold with his cock and pretending it’s you doing it for him. “You have nothing to say for yourself?” He adds now, inhaling once more the scent of your slick dripping for him as he leans in just a bit more.
“Oh–!” You yelp slightly at the feeling of his teeth digging into the flesh just to the side of your core. He bites down harder and harder, licking the flesh between his teeth before sucking hard against it. The sweat and scent of your full-day at work does nothing to calm his raging cock. He loves it and it only grows his appetite for you. Licking, sucking, nibbling at the skin until he’s sure he’ll leave a nice, painful swell to rub against your panties later. Only then does he release your skin from his still-tasting mouth. 
The relief when he releases your thigh is short lived because he offers not even a full two seconds before you feel his mouth circle your clit. Like he can’t help himself, like he can’t tease you right now even if he wanted to. 
 A flick of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine straight to your toes and you can’t stop your legs from immediately wrapping around his head. You hear his muffled “mmf” when you do that, but he keeps you from apologizing for it because his free hand goes straight under your ass and scoots you even closer to his tongue. 
And if you didn’t already think Sunghoon knew how to use that mouth for more than just being a professional business man, you do now. With the way that same tongue that used to taste the morning coffee you’d bring him now tastes you. Deeply. 
He licks, flicks, and sucks every fold. Slurping up any dripping heat that slips out of you before pressing his tongue in and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He’s not quiet about it either. He moans with each lick, hums every time your legs squeeze around his neck, slurps and loudly sucks. 
It’s pornographic, it’s sexy, it’s–
Suddenly, you feel a sharp jolt shoot through you, having not even noticed his hand moving from your ass to your front, moving straight up under your shirt. His fingers immediately find your nipple and pinches hard. So hard that your previous moan only becomes prolonged. Grows louder, breathier. 
He pinches and massages your nipple with the intent to keep you loud for him. Office setting or not, he could give less of a shit about that right now. He ignores the strain on his wrist from your bra, he uses his other hand to grip himself harder, and you can’t help but squeeze him tighter between your thighs until you’re, quite literally, shaking.
Your hips are sliding against his face with each jolt of pleasure, practically riding him, and his cock is now entirely neglected because you can’t help but want more. You need more. And he gives it, by now releasing himself and keeping both hands on you. One holding the outside of your thigh, almost pushing you to squeeze tighter, the other incessantly abusing your nipple. 
He chokes out a moan through his messy movements, never quite knowing where to put his hands solely because he wants to touch all of you. His cock is just fine being neglected, he thinks, as he realizes just how much pleasure he gets from feeling you wrap yourself around him like this. 
It feels better than jerking himself off. 
“Mr. P–” You sigh out, still not quite used to actually calling him his name, but the sound of it reminds you time and time again how wrong this situation is supposed to be. 
You’re sitting on this soft chair, pussy being spread apart by a tongue none other than the man who signs your paychecks. And just this morning you were terrified of him ever even getting a glimpse of you without pants on? God, how stupid could you be? You should’ve been chasing this man’s touch since the day you looked at him for the first time. 
“Fuck–” You moan out for him, brain spitting thoughts at you as each second passes. The danger of this, the fact that he genuinely got off to you before you knew it was him. The secrecy of his perverted thoughts and actions…it’s all so… “So, you’re so – hot.”
You feel him laugh, kissing the pulsing hole of your pussy when he pulls his tongue back to swallow. And for just a few moments, he turns his head, gripping your thigh with his teeth once again before speaking back to you, muffled by the hot skin. 
“Yeah?” He laughs, now pulling his hand from your bra and lifting to your chin, pointing your gaze down at him, forcing you to see the way your thighs nearly suffocate him against your pussy. “Then keep your eyes on me.”
And you do, especially when he uses both of his hands now, nudging them between your legs and forcing them from his shoulders. He rests your legs on the arms of the chair instead and flicks his eyes up at you. 
“You watching?” He makes this a point, blowing a small breath of air straight at your clit before receiving a dazed and slow nod from you. “Keep your legs open too.”
That’s the last thing he says before his mouth is full again, sucking your folds between his teeth before tucking his tongue right back into your hole. He tastes for just a few moments before you feel those same lips on your clit. He lets it throb in his open mouth as he listens carefully to your little sounds, especially now that he’s sliding his fingers into you. 
You gasp, holding your breath at the feeling. His fingers slide in, reaching deep before he scissors them open. And all you feel from it is pleasure. You can’t help that your eyes roll back again, but you do try to keep your gaze fixed on his. With his eyes so rounded, blinking up at you with his strong jaw moving with each swallow of his own muffled moans. 
He sucks your clit, fucks your cunt open, and relishes in the way he will soon get to splay you across his desk and really let you have it. 
And he does this for a few minutes, though in your head it goes by so fast that you nearly get whiplash from the way he pulls back with a wet sound and grins at you.
“Aw, baby–” He coos at the face you make, seemingly disappointed to lose all stimulation at once, but he’s quick to lift to his feet and lean back over you. 
Oh, his cock. It’s right there. 
Oh.
His face– 
“You’re so fucking wet right now.” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth with a raspy whisper, easily and without warning slipping two of his fingers right back into the heat that he just denied himself of licking more. “You hear that?” He continues with a sharp toothed bite to your lip. “How wet you are?”
You groan at the way he slams his fingers in, out, in, out, in…He keeps them there, pressed so far into you that you can physically feel the way your pussy tries to push him out again.
“Could slip it in right now–” He moans out at how tight you clench just his fingers. “Fuck, could be so deep in you.”
Your face feels hot as a bashful feeling overtakes you. His voice hits so much harder when you feel his breath along with it. His fingers, his cock right up against you. You want him to slip it in. To stuff his cock in you so fast, no room to adjust, not a second to even catch your breath. 
God, you need it right now. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a real person touch you, you can’t help that you feel so desperate. The clench isn’t on purpose, your body tells him all he needs to know, all while he tells you all you could only wish to hear fall from someone’s lips.
And not just anyone. His lips. 
You shoot your arms around his neck and it's not really intentional but– an actual kiss. You need it. 
He seems pleased by it though, with the way his tongue immediately asks for more. One hand moves to brace your cheek, the other still fucking into you so good that you can’t keep a single moan down. He takes full control of the initiated kiss solely because you kissed him first. Almost hungrily, he licks into your mouth with his own muffled groan, encouraging you to keep being pretty like this. Just so you can see what he’ll do to you. 
And, damn. He guides your body like a puppet, stiffening his shoulders when he licks into your mouth and threatening to pull away by raising  himself up just a bit. He knew you’d chase the kiss, and you do. You lift with him, your ass lifting from the chair just to keep his tongue against yours, and he takes the elevated position and angles his hand just a bit. There, his fingers fuck into you harder, faster, so much fucking deeper until– you feel his fingers stop at a painfully deep spot inside of you. 
He pulls back from the kiss, looking down between your bodies, and your eyes follow his gaze. Right there, he’s placed his knee up against his own wrist, forcing his fingers to remain deep and unmoving in you. 
You take in a sharp inhale, seeing the way he lets your body fall back to the seat of the chair, only forcing him to skew his fingers and– “Oh, god!”
You moan out so suddenly that it even shocks him for a moment, but he takes your weakness and uses it to his advantage. Quickly, he licks into your moaning mouth, tickling his fingers upwards, pulling even more animalistic sounds from you. 
“Yeah?” He whispers frantically, so turned on by the way your entire body stiffens. “Right there?” He continues, leaning his full body weight forward with his knee, wincing at the way he presses his cock against anything he can find in the process, just to get you off right here, right now. 
You nod just as frantically, toes curling, arms shooting to the chair in a form that should appear as discomfort, but really you’re just bracing yourself through the tensing of your muscles before all of them relax and pulse at once. 
Your ears pop, but you can still hear your desperate cries of his name somewhere distant. You can even hear him, humming and encouraging your orgasm. You wish you could hold your eyes open to see him, to grab him and force him to fuck his fingers hard into you. God, you could take it right now. You could take just about anything to heighten this feeling of stars bursting behind your eyelids. 
Somehow though, it’s like he knows. Half-way through your orgasm, you feel the weight between your legs shift and his fingers start moving again. Still, your eyes are squeezed shut, and you can't help but to lunge forward and hug against his neck, clinging to him through the prolonged orgasm that his fingers alone have brought to you. 
“Squeezing me so tight–” Sunghoon groans, unsure of if he’s referring to the way your needy cunt crowds his fingers, or the way you cling to him like a lost pet, begging for him to never leave your sight. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”
You hear those words over any of his others. So clear in your head as you snap your head up and look at him. You see him lower his gaze, but your grip doesn’t quite allow him to actually look down at you. Not when he has to physically hold you up anyway. Still, he looks amused up there, knowing that single compliment must’ve hit somewhere inside of you.
You’re not sure why, through all this, Sunghoon calling you pretty makes it so much more intimate. And even as your legs continue to shake, and you release your death grip hug on him, he keeps himself crowded up to you. He’s somehow out of breath just like you are, relishing in the calm silence of your post orgasm as he…Jesus.
It’s not just your imagination. Somehow, it is intimate. It’s the way he pulls his fingers out and both hands shoot to your face. First, he kisses you as if you’re a long lost love. Deeply, slowly. Then, he’s putting one hand at the small of your back, nudging his knee right back between your legs, and pulling you right up against him. 
“Who did you cum for?” Sunghoon asks, pulling back just to lick against your lips and stare directly down at you. “Say my name.”
You don’t hesitate, echoing out with a winced expression, still so out of breath while rubbing your clit to the expanse of his thigh. 
“Su-Sunghoo-Sunghoon-” 
“Yeah?” He encourages you, hearing his name heat his ears up. He moves his pussy-slicked fingers to your mouth while you cry his name, and easily presses your tongue down with them, sliding the digits further and further down your throat. “Sunghoon.” He says his own name. “Say it again.”
You gag around his fingers, unable to obey his demand. 
“Sung–” He inspects the way your tongue struggles against the intrusion in your mouth. “Hoon.” 
You swallow around them now, sputtering, tears now running down the outer apples of your cheeks. He watches you do it too, wondering how good that would feel if it were his cock you’re swallowing around. Knowing you’d probably do it for him if he wanted to right now. 
But…he needs more than that. Despite how delicious you look while gagging, his cock has been neglected and he needs to fuck out the stress from the past however long you’ve been avoiding him. It’s like his brain breaks with the action as he watches you take his fingers in whatever way he offers. You let him do whatever he wants. You’re obeying. 
“Up.” He suddenly says, pulling all physical contact with you away as he turns, steps out of the pants restricting his ankles, and swipes every pen, file, and picture frame off his desk. “Come here, baby.”
You feel like you’re melted to this chair right now, in all honesty. You’re still trying to catch your breath just from touching his cock before he decided to make you see fucking stars, to think you can stand right now is insane.
So, when you don’t immediately hop up and throw yourself onto his desk, he turns to look at you. 
You’re splayed out, legs still spread, toes still curled. Your chest is heaving to breathe, eyes wild and lips so fucking kissable. 
“Oh, fuck.” He sighs to himself in realization, relishing in the image of you he’s only recently been craving. “Look at you.”
You lift your arm to hide your face, feeling apologetic for the way you’ve lost the ability to exist as an active participant right now. Even more apologetic when you glance down at how fucking hard his cock is. Raging hard, so pretty with the tip sputtering precum for god knows how long. 
He watches you stare, and lends you a few moments to catch your breath by gripping it himself. Leaning himself against his desk and twisting his wrist with a tight grip at the base. 
“Is this how you looked at me when I did this before?” He asks, flicking his wrist still with each drag. “So out of it, you look like such a mess, babe.”
You find yourself humming a confirmation to him as you watch, almost reverting back to who you were during that first session. Unseen, only heard, all while you got to see him pleasure himself to almost nothing. You gave him nothing. 
You’ve still only given him nothing. 
And so, very slowly, you force yourself to stand on shaking legs to take those two strides to his desk. Something inside of you tingles when he drops his cock and opens his arms for you, like a good boss would do in this situation. Supporting your unbalanced weight, letting you walk into his comforting grasp. 
“Said my name so pretty, you know.” He comments gently when he holds you close to him. Hands reaching down from the grip around your waist just to grab both of your fleshy ass checks and squeeze them. “You want more, yes?”
He’s quick to the point, only allowing the short and sweet moments to last just enough for them to stick in your head. Just enough to have questions about his actions. Just enough to give him anything, everything, he could want if it involves your body.
You nod almost shyly, dipping your head down and leaning against his chest. 
“Let's get this off of you then.” He smiles with a gentle voice, reaching to the hem of your shirt and pulling it straight up, watching how you lift your arms to help him. “Mhm–” He hums again, loving how the bra drags off of you along with the shirt. He lets both of his hands brush your nipples before he goes back to gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them. 
Spreading them so wide that, once again, you have to lift on your toes just to let him play with your body. Which, oh man. Always wearing his button down shirts, his blazers, his long-sleeve shirts. You can’t help it when you tug at the opened fabric of his shirt, asking silently that he shake it off. Wanting to see his arms, wanting to see the strength in them.
And he does it without hesitation, letting his hands fall from you just for a moment to shake his shirt off, only now hugging against you again and forcing a position change. He turns both of you so now you’re up against his desk, and he’s standing in front of you.
It’s easy for him to push you back in a kiss. Your legs open for him on instinct anyway, so he need not worry about prying those legs open again. You do just as expected when he pushes you too. Your ass hits the desk and you lift on your toes to sit on it. Your legs spread wider, making room for him to step even closer, cock right up against you when he closes any amount of distance, and still? He’s kissing you. 
All across your face, down your neck, back to your lips. And his hands just keep feeling. Massaging your tits, lending small taps to your ass, holding your chin, jaw, neck, and then…he runs them through your hair. 
The feeling is so good you almost forget how you’ve been trying to steal a glimpse of his flexing arms as he grabs at you. Goosebumps prickle and you let out a groan at the pleasure of it. He keeps one hand there now, smiling against his kiss to your ear. 
“You like being pampered?” He asks, now gripping a fist full of your hair and skewing your neck to the side. “Like being moved around like a puppet?”
Never once have you thought about your sex life that way, but when you think about it…maybe. After all, you did enjoy being told when and how to touch yourself, being allowed or forbidden from cumming. Now, with him quite literally moving you around with just a simple grip of your hair? Yeah. 
“By you–” You mutter out as you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling and feeling his tongue lap against your earlobe. 
“Just me?” He leans back, using that same grip in your hair to force you to look at him. “You’d give me that power?”
You nod against the grasp, lips falling open in a moan despite not being pleasured by anything aside from the stinging against your scalp as he pulls little hairs a bit too tightly. 
“You know–” Sunghoon starts now, pressing his hips forward, dropping his other hand to his cock and slapping it right against your weeping cunt. “If I had known you were this dirty...”He sighs out at the image in his head, thinking back to all those times he silently complimented you in his head. Back then, never would he have made comments about your legs out loud, or how your tits would look in certain shirts. Thinking back now, he’s always found you quite beautiful.
Quite fuckable, even. 
You listen to the silence waiting for him to continue, feeling the way he presses the hardened head of his length against your clit repeatedly. 
“I would have propped you up on this desk months ago,” He smiles now, leaning in real close to your ear as his grip in your hair loosens just a bit. “Could’ve had you moaning my name this whole time.”
Then, you feel it. The way he adjusts his weeping cock lower, prodding at your hole just a bit until his tip is entirely enveloped by your clenching walls. 
You swallow a moan and hold your breath, legs shooting around his waist and instinctively trying to force his hips to move forward, trying to force him to penetrate you deeper.
“Shh,” He coos out, holding his hips firm and not letting you control his movements. Then, he kisses just under your ear before peppering them all the way back to your lips. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, he chuckles at you for trying. Watching you let your tongue fall from your mouth, inspecting the way you’re entirely in tune for him right now. “You really want it, don’t you?” He whispers just above your lips. “Want me to fuck you right here, right now?”
You nod absentmindedly, legs still trying to force him to move, arms clinging under his biceps, head still forced into whatever position he keeps it in by the hair. 
“Please–Sunghoon.” You cry in a small voice, feeling as if you’re going insane by the feeling of his tip sitting comfortably in you. 
“You’re so cute.” He smiles, lending you another inch of his length before letting his hand fall from your hair. There, he grips your waist instead, letting a strained grunt fall from his own lips this time. He’s really trying to remain collected about this, and he’s unsure himself why he’s enjoying the act of teasing you like this. He feels like he’s teasing himself more than you right now, seeing as how it’s taking everything in him not to stuff his cock into you hard and fast. “So–so, fucking cute.”
You clench around the few inches in you and it appears that’s all he needed to break entirely. Is he controlling you, or are you controlling him? 
Honestly, who gives a fuck?
You feel his arms shake when he plants them at either side of you, pointing his cock straight into you and sliding in fully. There’s a groan from him that you want to hear so badly, but your own heart beat is thumping in your ears so loudly that you miss half of it. 
The stretch is delicious, and the fact that it’s Sunghoon doing this to you makes this all the more enjoyable. The man who you’ve seen day after day, now holding himself up on the desk you’ve signed papers on with and for him? All so he can angle his hips and shove his cock in? Just to let his arms frantically wrap around your waist? Just so he can scoot you forward on this desk, using your leaking slick to slide you back and forth in time with his hips? 
That groan you wanted to hear? He hasn’t stopped. He’s essentially, controlling the entire situation and when you half open your eyes to witness his face, you’re forced to roll your eyes back in a moan matching his. 
He’s fucking you so deeply right now that all you can do is moan, all you can do is forget the embarrassment, the victimization, the way he’s doing this to you despite the risk of reality crumbling. He could lose his job, you could lose yours, and yet still– he’s fucking you like he doesn’t care.
So, you choose not to care either in the form of grabbing his hair, forcing his head back, and attaching your lips right against his adams apple. You feel him swallow and breathe out a shocked sound, and then? You suck.
Intentionally, you suck, bite, and lick, harder and harder until there’s a deep purple mark there. He doesn’t even fight it, though you feel him try to move his head just to keep you from going too insane with it. You don’t care though, because still you feel his cock splitting you open, forcing you to adjust to him. 
“Ah,” Sunghoon lets out another breath with that familiar chuckle, “Marking me now?” 
You hum a confirmation as you move to a new spot on his neck, absolutely fucking marking him. Feeling devastated by the idea that he’d do this with any other employee. Or any other person in general. 
“Making me all yours, huh?” He continues with his cocky words, feeling the way your pussy clenches him tightly, dripping all over his desk. He’d let you make him yours, with or without the bruising from your mouth. 
“Mhm.” You hum pleasantly, letting out little yelps each time he slams into you. Letting out full moans each time his arms wrap around your waist tighter. 
You continue with the act, littering his pretty neck with your touch and loving how he just lets you. Knowing that he’ll show up at work tomorrow looking a bit tired, but glowing nonetheless, trying to hide all these marks with that tight-necked collar he likes to wear. 
“Whatever you want.” He breathes, letting his hips lose rhythm for just a moment as he feels his muscles tighten. “Fuck, you’re still so tight.” 
You feel like you’re on top of the world as he compliments you, to the point you’re not sure when you’ll cum because your whole body has seemingly been feeling euphoria anyway. Everything feels good, even if his cock reaches deep enough to cause little jolts of pain. The sound of the desk scooting back through the force of his hips is enough to make you take it. Enough to squeeze your legs around him tighter, enough to clench, enough to– forget what you’re doing and let yourself fall into it with him.
Your head falls back from his neck and you pant out little half-calls of his name with each thrust. Your legs loosen from around him too, but his grip on your waist only pushes you back on his desk. Until he’s leaning forward so hard with each thrust that suddenly your back meets the cold wood.
Sandwiched between him and his desk, he follows the action, his hands quickly moving from your waist to your tits, pushing them together just so he can nuzzle his face between them.
There, you look at him. You really look at him. 
What a messy, messy, man. Always so pristine during working hours, now looking so wrecked and out of it as he chases a pleasure that you hope only you can give to him. 
“Mr. Park–” You sigh out in a pleasant voice, watching the way he sucks your tit into his mouth before his eyes open wide just so he can look up at you through each thrust. “Harder.”
You can physically see the way his eyes darken when he pops off from your tit, hands now going back to the desk as he hovers over you and intentionally rolls his hips. 
You feel his cock loosen you up painfully before he intentionally fucks into you. Dragging all the way out, just to push forward in a deep and painful thrust. Over and over again, all while he’s staring straight into your eyes.
As you look up at him, you see the intent in his face. The way he wants to give you exactly what you want. Sweat shining from his cheeks, his neck littered with pretty colors. Oh, he’s actually heavenly when he fucks. 
Better than what you thought that guy on camera would have been. He’s not nonchalant like he was when he was performing. He’s entirely in tune with you and what you want. Like what you want is what he wants. 
You can tell he’s paying no mind to his own face or expression, blatantly putting all of his thoughts into how he’s pleasuring you, his eyes searching your face to tell him he’s doing well. To tell him you feel good, to tell him you’re close or–
“Fuck–” He sighs out, teeth tracing his bottom lip as he glances up, keeping pace with the way he’s been plunging into you. “I can’t keep looking at you,”
You smile, feeling dazed and far away. It feels like it’s just you and him. You’re not in his office, on a desk, or doing anything you shouldn’t be doing. 
“You hear me?” He drops his body weight on you again, letting his hips move freely as he chases and chases. “I’m so close.”
Oh. 
“Then look at me.” You huff out, now shooting a hand between his flexed abs and simply…touching your clit once.
 “Oh–shit.” 
It hits you so fast. Just a simple touch causes your pussy to clench Sunghoon so tightly that he mimics your sound. 
“Ah, fuck- fuck,” His voice sounds frantic as he tries to pull out, only to feel your legs shoot back around him. This time, he lets you force him to stay. He lets those legs of yours push him back in, so deep that he knows he can’t fight. “No, no–” He chokes out, uncaring if his hips show you that he’s lying with his words. “I’m cumming– I need to–”
“Stay!” You shake beneath him but your voice sounds pleading, pressing once more to your clit before letting it go. You clench him again, essentially letting your body finish him off. Letting those clenches squeeze him so tightly, making sure he couldn’t fathom ever wasting his cum. “Don’t pull out.”
He doesn’t. In fact, he presses impossibly deeper, trying to bury his cock into you to the point it even pains him. Arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up again, only to drop his lips to yours under his own weight. His hips are so tense between your legs, his cock is so stiff that you can feel each pumped release, and still you’re experiencing your own euphoria through it. 
To the point your toes are curling and you barely notice the way you leave welts across his back from your fingernails through the intense orgasm. To the point his slack lips against yours feel more natural than anything else. Not kissing, just close. So close that–
He kisses you. 
After it’s all said and done, he still kisses you breathlessly. Passionately almost, clinging to you as his cock twitches as it grows flaccid inside of you.
He doesn’t pull out, he just…kisses.
And as you lay against his wooden desk, body coming down from the pleasure you’ve felt more than once within the past hour, all you can do is let your brain think on its own. Without shame, without embarrassment or anxiety. 
You thought Sunghoon would have been in control the whole time. Teasing you, maybe even making this experience more painful than it needs to be. But no, he…
He’s soft. Gentle, almost. 
Only now do you recognize that as badly as he probably wants to appear harsh, like the confident man he is on camera, you think he needs something else. Not just power, not just money or control. Not even just fucking. 
You think…maybe, Sunghoon needs connection. 
Intimacy. 
And that’s proven when he does finally stand on his own buckled knees, pulling you up with him into a hug where he still kisses you. Up until he takes that shirt you unbuttoned and holds it between your legs, scratching the back of his neck with a shy glance at you. 
“Sorry for the mess.” He echoes in a meek voice, holding that shirt firm against you. “Guess I just couldn’t help myself.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Days later, you find yourself in his bed. Which should have been expected probably. Still doesn’t change the fact that every few hours, you remind yourself the reality of the situation.
It’s not just any bed you’re in. It’s Sunghoon’s bed. 
“Oh, right. The promotion.” Sunghoon suddenly calls out mid-episode. 
You’ve been here with him all day. To the point neither of you bother to put on clothes now because you know the spark will come back at any given time and you’ll be all over each other again. Still, lazing in his bed with him on a Saturday afternoon is nice. 
“I’ve been a bit occupied but– the interviews for the assistant position has been pushed back a bit due to you not coming to work.  I was supposed to notify you when you got back, but you know, we had priorities–” 
Sunghoon sighs, embarrassed. It’s nice actually, seeing him in his natural element. Allowing you to see him as more than just the guy that wears a suit and tie every day at work. 
“Unrelated to us…doing this, but, you’re up for the interview. Just need to schedule it with me. If you still want to be my assistant, I mean.”
“Oh, I can only imagine what that could entail.”
Sunghoon seems offended by this remark as he pulls back with furrowed brows.
“Excuse me?”
“Did you fuck the last one too?” You give him a playful smile, prodding at his soft-skinned chest.
“Absolutely not?!” 
“You’re still gonna fuck me too though, right? Even if I’m constantly having to nag you for signatures and meetings?” 
Sunghoon stares at you before smiling. 
“Well, let's see if you get the job anyway. Rhonda from Marketing is applying too.”
You lend a half-joke gag at him. 
“Is it too forward to ask for special attention for the position along with a sexual favor?” You tread the thin line. “I’m half joking but wouldn’t it be like…normal for us to be seen around each other at work if I’m working a job that requires it?”
Sunghoon thinks hard.
“You’re really asking to fuck your way up the ladder?”
“Aren’t you the one who offered it so I wouldn’t tell your dirty little secret?” You narrow your eyes at him. “But no, I’m asking for the job I’ve been trying to earn for ages. Besides, I’d still fuck you anyway.”
“Fair.” Sunghoon thinks harder still. “Rhonda would probably find out too, if she were to get the position anyway, considering my assistants are often intertwined in my personal business as well.”
“Oh, I’m personal business now?”
“Babe, my hand has been on your tit for an hour now.” 
Well, he’s not wrong.
“Rhonda is really close with HR too…” You trail off, feeling a bit anxious. “I think she’d hold it over both of us if she found out.” 
“In all fairness, you’ve been considered for the job more than a few times the past few months. Rhonda only applied during your two week avoidance of me. The reason she’s even up for the position is because my boss thinks you’re too flaky.” 
Oh, so you have a chance with or without putting his dick in your mouth again?
“Who else has applied?”
“Confidential.” Sunghoon shrugs. “I still have to follow company rules even if we’re breaking a few of them right now. What I can tell you is, over fifteen other candidates have already been phased out by me personally.” 
You pause.
“Why?”
“Bad matches, mostly. Two of them have been caught talking shit about me through the company emails, and the others? Many outside applicants, all freshman college students with strict schedules.”
“Being my assistant is not an easy job, and even before all of this, you’ve practically been doing the job already, better than the current assistant I have.”
You damn fucking right you have.
“How many are still in the running?”
“Two.”
Oh, this job is soooooo yours. 
“Just, one more thing.” Sunghoon sighs. “If you get this job, we cannot be fucking in my office. No sexual stuff at work. We can take lunch together, or I’ll bring you home after work, but absolutely nothing at work.”
Oh, he thinks you want him that badly? 
“Who says I need to fuck you during work hours anyway? I know how to control myself.”
“It’s not you who I’m worried about.” Sunghoon looks away, biting the inside of his cheek.
“Yeah?” You smile. “You gonna be calling me into your office just to torture yourself?”
“Oh, absolutely.” 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
pls remember to leave feedback and reblog! :D love you!
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aphel1on · 3 days
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the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.
the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)
both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!
and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.
that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".
and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.
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this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.
a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.
it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.
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there's several things to note here:
thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder
eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble
they're not actually eating anything.
those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.
it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.
but even that last happened a long, long time ago.
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this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.
paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.
he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.
isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.
thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.
when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.
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i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.
therefore replacing eodio with a creepy doll and casually forgetting it isn't real.
thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.
yet still...
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he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.
this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.
all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.
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bro-atz · 2 days
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the better man
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in which: your roommate and your college friend both have feelings for you.
pair: college student!san/college student!afab!reader/college student!mingyu
word count: 14.8k
content: slight angst, a lot of drama, nicknames (cutie, baby), slow burn at the beginning, smut (obvi), jealousy, competition, cat vs dog, three different smut scenes omg, slightly drunk make out sessions, oral sex, (filthy as fuck) threesome, double penetration, safe sex, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: thank you @k-hotchoisan for helping me with the development of this entire fic! ilysm <3 also ik this fic is long as fuck but i couldn't help myself... two of my ults in the same fic? you bet your ass i'm going to make a whole kdrama! so grab your popcorn, sit back, and enjoy this insane ride (with the slowest burn of all time)
another world masterlist
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YOU have had so many people tell you that you should never live with your friends because it'll ruin the friendship, but you and your best friend moving in together was honestly one of the best decisions you had ever made in your entire life.
San was the perfect roommate for you. The two of you balanced each other out well, and he was always super protective of you, which was nice because if you were ever in a situation where you needed rescuing, San was right there. The greatest part was that he didn't have feelings for you.
What you didn't know was that San had some feelings for you, but he chose to ignore them.
And one of the greatest things about San was that he always stayed up late if you were out with friends. He always made sure you came home safe. After all, roommates are supposed to be there for each other, right?
"Sannie, I'm home!" your voice echoed through the apartment. After hearing the words leave your mouth, you giggled, then said out loud, "Sannie sounds like honey..."
San, who was sitting at the kitchen countertop, looked up from his laptop, then looked at the time blinking on the stove clock. Two in the morning wasn't bad at all considering how drunk you were. San got up from the barstool and made his way over to you, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched, with slight amusement, you struggle to take your strappy heels off.
"Someone had a good night," he commented, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
You went to look up at him, but you lost your balance and nearly fell over. Luckily, your roommate was there to catch you and help you keep your balance while you took off the other heel with a huge sigh of relief— your heels were killing you.
"I had a great night," you corrected him while stumbling through the threshold and into the living room. "Our club meeting was boring as hell, so I suggested we go to a bar and get a couple of drinks... One thing led to another, and I totally won at darts!"
"Really? You didn't take someone's eye out?" San couldn't help but snort 
"You underestimate me, my dear friend."
You flopped into the smack-dab-middle of the sofa, San following you shortly thereafter into the living room. He at first remained standing, only to sit when you patted the empty space next to you. You hummed softly as you brought your limbs back together and rested your head on your roommate's insanely broad shoulders while he wrapped his arm over your shoulders. It was almost second nature at that point; San was so used to you being an affectionate drunk that he automatically prepared himself for you to cuddle into him.
"You're definitely going to have a hangover tomorrow," San said softly as he rested his hand on your forehead.
"Of course I will... But you'll be here to take care of me, so I'll be fine," you murmured while closing your eyes.
San couldn't help but smile. He rested his head on top of yours and listened to the sound of your peaceful breathing, thinking you were asleep. However, you were just resting your eyes, because seconds later, you were moving your head from his shoulder. You stared blankly at your roommate, your eyes running over all of his features. San looked at you with mild concern the longer you stared.
"What? Do you need to throw up?" he asked.
"No, that's not..." you trailed off.
You lowered your gaze and noticed a stray piece of lint on his chest. You picked the lint off then smoothed out his shirt, your hand brushing along his defined chest a couple times. Mindlessly, you rested your hand on his chest. Your hands were a little too numb from the alcohol swarming your system, so you (luckily) couldn't feel San's heart rate elevating.
"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?" you asked as you began to draw lazy patterns along his chest.
"Every time you drink," San responded with a slightly annoyed sigh; he didn't like when you called him pretty. He didn't need a more masculine term or anything, but there was something about the word that icked him out.
"You're so much cuter up close... Like a cuddly bear... Or a Maine Coon..."
"A Maine Coon?"
"You're like a kitty cat, but you're so big... So you're a Maine Coon... You're my Maine Coon."
San's heart completely skipped a beat when you said he was yours. He was used to you saying things like that when you were sober, but this drunk version of those words were a little different this time around. The way you were looking at him, the softness in your voice— it brought the feelings he had buried for you right up to the surface.
"You definitely need to get some sleep," San chuckled awkwardly, trying to deflect whatever the hell was going on between the two of you.
"I know, I should... But I want to stay like this a little bit longer," you admitted while resting your head on his shoulder once again. "You're so soft and warm... Like a big cat."
"Really? I had no idea. It's like you didn't just say that," he replied sarcastically, making you look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips.
"Don't make fun of me, Sannie."
"Okay, I'll stop. But seriously, I think you should go to bed now."
"Not yet. I still wanna cuddle."
Slumping his head in defeat, San let you settle into him a little more. With his free hand, he instinctively brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, his fingers lingering on the edge of your ear for a second too long. Subtly, he moved his hand away and rested it on the curve of your waist— horrible idea on his part— his fingers grazing the slightly exposed skin from your shirt riding up a little too much.
Every single movement from him made you feel even hotter than before. Your fingers and toes tingled, although you couldn't tell if it was him or the alcohol, but something definitely stirred within you. Your heart thrummed against your chest as the confidence from the alcohol started to speak for you.
"San," you whispered, lifting your head to meet his gaze.
"Yeah," he responded in the same register.
"Don't hate me for this, okay?"
San didn't even have time to question you. You brushed your lips against his with a feather light touch, your eyes fluttering open as you looked into his eyes. They were wide with shock, but they were also sparkly and beautiful. So you closed your eyes again and pressed your lips against his again and again and again, each kiss getting more intense than the last one.
San's mind went blank. His body moved on instinct. He pulled you closer and tangled his fingers in your hair as he deepened the kiss, the two of you holding onto each other for dear life because the world was spinning too fast.
You parted, breathless and slightly dizzy, but you felt great, nay, wonderful. Honestly, you were addicted, and there was nothing else you wanted to do that night but kiss San.
So you did. All night.
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YOU woke up the next morning groggily and feeling like the world would explode if you did so much as breathe. Your head was throbbing— thank you, hangover— and regret filled every single cell of your body because that morning, you woke up to see San sleeping in bed with you.
Nothing happened the night before. Well, other than the kissing, nothing happened, and you knew that nothing happened because for one thing, you and San were still fully clothed, and you also started sobering up while you were kissing San that night and remembered everything. You remembered the way he held your waist, the way his fingers slid up your top, the feeling you got when he stopped kissing your lips and moved to your neck, the way he made you feel so...
So wanted. So sexy.
You sat up and held your pounding head, the arm San had resting on your waist slipping out of place, making him grunt slightly. His face, so relaxed and serene before, changed when he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned slightly. His eyes fluttered open, and you immediately averted your eyes while trying to figure out how you were going to play the situation because the events of the night before were definitely going to ruin your friendship with him, and you wanted anything but that.
So you decided to play dumb.
"Morning," San's low, groggy morning voice sent tingles down your spine.
"M-Morning," you squeaked out despite clearing your throat before talking and playing the blackout card. "Uh, what are you doing here?"
"I think you invited me," he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbow. "Well, you dragged me in here, actually."
"O-Oh... I... I don't remember..."
"I figured as much."
Huh?
"You were pretty drunk and giddy... Shit, maybe I shouldn't have kissed you," San's face paled slightly when he realized the gravity of his actions.
"W-We kissed?" you badly wanted to reassure him that the kiss was consensual, that you didn't regret kissing him— because he was an amazing kisser and you regretted ruining your friendship more than anything— but you still had to play fucking stupid.
"We made out... A lot."
"San, I'm so sorry," you spoke carefully to validate his actions. "I was really drunk, and you know how I get affectionate when I'm drunk, so don't feel bad. Also, I don't feel violated, so you're okay."
"You sure? Because I definitely fucked up—"
"It's okay. I promise."
You hoped that your definitive statement would be enough for him to take and run with, and after a moment of silent contemplation, San nodded his head. He sat up and kept his head bowed, and your heart stung a little. It was like watching a guilty cat, so you couldn't help but pet his head like he was a fucking cat.
"W-What're you doing?" San asked, the man lifting his head to reveal the pink blush that had spread across his face.
"I guess I'm petting you," you couldn't help but laugh. "There, there."
"Please tell me you remember some of last night."
"W-What do you mean?"
"You called me a Maine Coon."
It took everything in you to not burst out laughing because you totally remembered saying that— and you stood by your word.
"I kinda remember saying that..." you admitted slowly.
You were able to laugh when San chuckled, the tension leaving your chest. You were so relieved that San was acting like his normal self, that he didn't seem bothered by the fact that you didn't remember the night before.
San was extremely bothered. He wished you remembered because, goddammit, last night was so fucking amazing, and he wished he could take your relationship a little further.
"I'm gonna go make breakfast," San announced as he got off the bed, leaving your hand midair because you were still petting him. "Do you want any?"
"No. I think I'm going to sleep until my head stops hurting, but thanks," you faked a yawn.
"Alright. Get some rest."
With that, San closed the door. You laid back down in bed and covered yourself with the duvet, guilt gnawing at you like anything. You had to lie to your roommate just to preserve your fucking friendship. You sighed deeply and sadly as you stared at the ceiling.
You ended up turning in your bed to go back to bed because you really did want to sleep the headache off. Your eyes landed on the empty space next to you then trailed over to the pillow San was sleeping on. Tentatively, you brought the pillow to your chest and buried your face in it, taking in San's natural scent.
You instantly regretted it. He smelled amazing. So amazing, in fact, that your entire body reacted to it.
"Shit," you whispered to yourself as you felt your arousal pool in your panties.
You shouldn't have done it, but you reached down in between your legs, and while you let San's scent surround you, you pleasured yourself.
No wonder people said to not live with your friends.
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YOU didn't mean to avoid San for several days after the incident. You just got really busy with club activities. You were on the e-board, and since festival season was coming up, you had your hands full with a lot of the planning— literally.
"Shit, shit, shit," you cursed as the pile of flyers in your hands started to waver out of place.
And, of course, all the flyers flew from your hands, the papers scattered on the ground in the hallway. You uttered several profanities under your breath as you started to collect all the flyers.
"Hey— Woah, what happened here?" a familiar voice rang out behind you.
You turned around and sighed loudly, conveying your annoyance to your tall friend.
"Mingyu, help me out with these, will you?" you asked him.
Nodding, he crouched down and began helping you pick up the flyers. After you got all of them, you ended up forcing him (technically, he would've helped you regardless) to help you carry them to the club room.
"I would ask you how you dropped everything in the first place, but I get it because I've done it before," Mingyu chuckled and attempted to fill the silence between the two of you with some sort of conversation.
"I just don't understand why we can't have our own printer in our club room," you grumbled.
"At least with the print center, they'll fold the brochures, staple packets, and turn the pages into a bound booklet for us."
"...Okay fine. Then I wish our club room was closer to the print center. I still don't get why our room is at the far end of the floor."
"At least we're on the same floor—"
"Okay! I get it! Stop justifying everything and let me complain!" you cut him off before he could explain the other side.
Mingyu laughed loudly and kept his lips zipped until you got to the club room. Hopping up on the table, he watched you organize the flyers on the table— he would've helped, but the organizing was definitely more of a one person job.
"Hey, I have a question for you," he started.
You hummed in response while keeping busy with your task.
"Are you okay?"
"What do you mean? Of course I am."
"No, like, you seem a little off lately."
"What are you talking about, Gyu?"
"Did something happen at home? Between you and your roommate? Because I haven't heard you talk about him for a while."
You froze. You didn't want to freeze because you didn't want Mingyu to know shit about anything between you and San and especially because you didn't want anyone knowing what happened between you and San.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Mingyu leaned towards you. "Talk to me about it."
"Everything is fine," you said after clearing your throat and resuming your organizing task.
"Yeah, right," Mingyu said sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "I thought we were friends and that you could share any of your problems with me, but I guess you don't see me as a friend..."
You knew Mingyu was intentionally trying to guilt trip you and get you to spill on the events that happened several nights before, but you weren't going to fall for his tricks. Not at all.
"Buddy," you grabbed Mingyu's cheeks with one hand. "You are my friend, but I'm not telling you shit because nothing happened. Got it?"
"Then why are you acting all suspicious? You're totally hiding something," Mingyu mumbled through his lips since you were still squeezing his cheeks.
Letting go of his cheeks, you exhaled deeply, planted both palms of your hands on the table and looked him dead in the eyes before lying your ass off. "Look, I got really drunk one night, and I said some things to him that I shouldn't have said. He said it's fine, but I still feel bad. Okay?"
"Damn, okay, you don't have to be so aggressive about it," Mingyu finally backed off.
"Sorry, but it's just been... It's been bothering me."
Everything that happened with San really was bothering the shit out of you— you kept thinking about San in very sexual manners before going to bed every single fucking night, but there was no way in hell you were going to tell anyone that you wanted to fuck your roommate.
"You should talk about it with someone. You know I'm always here to listen," he said softly while placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"Thanks, Mingyu. I appreciate it."
Finally, he let the topic go, and you got back to finishing your organization project. After everything was set in place, you and Mingyu ended up leaving the club room together. The entire walk down the long hallway and to the elevators as well as the elevator ride to the building lobby consisted of Mingyu teasing you and making you laugh, your worries about San melting away.
When you exited the building, you nearly tripped over your own two feet, Mingyu catching you.
"You're clumsy as fuck, aren't you? First the flyers, now this," Mingyu teased as he got you back to your feet.
"Shut up, I'm just tired."
Still, to make sure you weren't going to fall again, Mingyu had his arm over your shoulder. Even after you reached the last stair, he still had his arm around you.
The sun was setting by the time you left the building that day, so when you looked ahead and saw a figure before you, the figure looked absolutely stunning and breathtaking surrounded by the orange and red hues of the setting sun. It wasn't until you got closer to the figure did you realize who it was.
"San—" you were about to ask him what he was doing there, but you forgot that he always walked you home from campus that day because he had a class around the same time as your club meeting. "Have you been waiting long?"
"Not really," he shook his head.
You watched him open his mouth to say something, only to stop.
Why was that guy's arm over your shoulder?
"Oh, Mingyu, this is my roommate, San. San, this is Mingyu. He's the treasurer," you introduced the two to each other, suddenly realizing that this is the first time they're meeting each other.
"Nice to finally meet you," Mingyu dropped his hand from your shoulder and held it out for San to shake.
Finally?
"Nice to meet you, too," San suppressed the urge to furrow his eyebrows in confusion and instead plastered a picturesque smile onto his face.
"Alright, well, thanks for the help, Gyu," you waved to him as you left his side and walked towards San. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye," Mingyu waved back. "Get home safe, you two!"
When you got to San's side, you felt him wrap his arm around your shoulder. He did that all the time, but this time around, you felt electricity jolt through your body. The last time you touched him was when you were incredibly drunk, and the touch you had been craving every single night since then was finally there, nearly sending you spiraling.
"Hey, I have a question for you," San snapped you out of your thoughts.
"Huh?"
"What did he mean when he said finally?"
"Oh, that." You felt yourself return to normal when you explained, "I talk about you all the time to the other club members."
"What?" San was a little taken aback. "What do you tell them?"
"I mean just like normal roommate things like us watching movies, or you making food for me or the other way around. Normal roommate things."
San nodded, accepting your explanation. To keep the horny thoughts away, you continued rambling about the members of the club to San on your way home, his arm eventually slipping from your shoulder. And you continued talking to him normally when you got home. He didn't bring up the fact that it had been a while since you talked, and you didn't point it out either, so everything was falling back into place.
Normalcy. Finally.
Or so you thought. You couldn't stop thinking about the way San had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you spent another night regretting your sinful thoughts over your roommate.
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SAN didn't like Mingyu from the moment he met him. He had no reason to not like him, but there was something about the way he was with you that rubbed San the wrong way. Maybe it was because Mingyu had his arm around you so familiarly and because you never ever told him about Mingyu until the night San met him.
He also didn't like how much time you were spending with Mingyu. He knew that you had club activities, that you were preparing for the festival and that you and Mingyu would be working together a lot, but he still hated it. It wasn't like San was your boyfriend or anything, so it shouldn't have bothered him how close you were getting with Mingyu. But Mingyu would carry you home after you had one too many drinks, and seeing the way Mingyu would touch you so familiarly made his blood boil just a tiny bit.
He especially hated it because everything had changed between the two of you after the night you got drunk and kissed him. He felt like it was his fault, that he shouldn't have kissed you when you were drunk even though you reassured him that it was okay and that you didn't remember. There shouldn't have been a reason for you to be avoiding him, but that's just how it felt for him lately.
One night, Mingyu brought you home again after you went drinking with the club, irritating San slightly. You stumbled into the apartment, leaving San with the taller man at the entrance to your apartment.
"Thanks for dropping her off," San said politely but curtly, trying to get Mingyu to leave.
"Oh, will we see you at the festival tomorrow?" Mingyu asked.
"Yeah."
Honestly, San wanted to be petty and say that he might not be able to, but he didn't want to risk you overhearing and telling him that he must come and tell Mingyu that he would definitely be there. At least with a simple 'yeah', San could get out of it if he really wanted to.
"Cool. See you later, then," Mingyu said with a smile before waving and leaving.
The fake smile on San's face dropped immediately the second the door closed. With a heavy sigh, he trudged over to the living room to see you lying on the couch face up, your arms outstretched for him.
"Sannie!" you giggled. "Come here."
San couldn't help but listen to you when you called him like that. He approached the couch but remained standing, making you frown. You sat up and pursed your lips, your cutesy act making San lose his goddamn mind.
"Are you mad at me?" you asked while sulking.
"No, I'm not," San replied and shook his head.
"Then gimme a hug!"
You knelt on the couch and hugged your roommate, San's arms delaying slightly when he hugged you back. You rubbed your face into his chest before letting out a happy sigh as you rested your head on his pillow of a chest.
"You're so comfy..." you murmured. "And you're so pretty... Have I ever told you how pretty you are?"
"Every time you drink," San rolled his eyes.
You leaned away from him— he was being short with you, and he knew that you knew that.
"Tell me what's wrong," you said as you cupped his cheek.
San grabbed your wrist lightly and moved your hand from his face. He would've entertained you a little more, but based on the developments of his relationship with you over the past couple of weeks, he was losing his patience rapidly.
"Nothing. You need to sleep," San replied.
"No, it's not nothing. Tell me."
San still refused to tell you anything. His patience completely wore out when you started chanting "tell me" over and over again to the point that he hoisted you over his shoulder, walked you to your room, dropped you on your bed, and turned off the lights before closing the door.
He wasn't going to make the mistake of indulging you while you were drunk out of your mind again.
Before he could get more than a few steps from your door, you opened it and stood in the threshold.
"San," you said, your voice wavering. "Why are you being mean to me?"
Well fuck. San never wanted to be the reason you fucking cried.
"I'm not— I'm sorry," San apologized sincerely to you.
Even though he apologized, tears started rolling down your face. San fully panicked and hugged you before you could start sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him back when he leaned back and cupped your face to dry your tears with his thumbs.
"Don't cry," San said softly. "You just need to sleep."
"Then don't dump me on the bed next time," you said while frowning.
San's thumb got a little too close to your eye, making you unintentionally wink at him, but the way your rosy cheek lifted slightly when you closed your eye made San's heart thump harder in his chest. Something so simple was enough to make him yearn for you even though you were right there in his arms.
"Sannie," your soft voice rang in his ear. "Can I tell you something?"
"What?"
"I know I'm tipsy, but I know that I'm not drunk enough to do anything I'll regret."
"What are you talking about?"
"I remember that night. I just didn't want to say anything to you because... I was afraid of what me kissing you would do to our friendship."
San was completely taken aback. So you were avoiding him— not because of what he did, but because of what you did.
"...Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because I don't want you to hate me for doing this again."
You cupped his cheeks then brought his face to yours, your lips meeting his. San didn't know what to do at first— he did not want a repeat of what happened weeks ago, but he craved you so damn much that he needed you more than anything.
San wrapped his arms around you and carried you back into your room while still kissing you. He then laid you down on the bed— super gently this time— before laying right next to you, his lips meeting yours feverishly over and over again.
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YOU ran out of the apartment the next morning. Even though San was sleeping right by your side, and you should've talked things through with him, you were really fucking late— drinking the night before an important event was such a horrible idea. Since you couldn't talk about it just yet, you decided you would send him a text so that he would know that you wanted to.
Technically speaking, you and San did talk about it that night in between kisses, but it was more like surface level shit instead of figuring out what the relationship between the two of you was at that point and what it could look like in the future. And, just like the last time, you didn't have sex with him. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren't bummed.
"There you are! Took you long enough," Mingyu immediately started teasing you the second you ran up to your booth at the festival.
"Why didn't you cut me off while drinking last night?" you slapped his arm. "I'm hungover as fuck..."
"As long as you don't throw up on anyone, you'll be fine."
Immediately, you and your club members got to work setting everything up for your booth, your hangover quickly subsiding as your adrenaline pumped. You were so invested in the chaos of the festival that you didn't realize you completely forgot to text San.
Thankfully, you got some downtime when the president of the club told you to take a lunch break. You quickly left the booth and went off in search of a (different) food stall to grab your lunch from— your club was doing a food booth, and you wanted to eat anything but that.
"Hey, wait up!" you heard Mingyu holler from behind.
"You're on lunch break too?"
"Yep. Let's eat together," Mingyu said cheerfully as he grabbed your arm and whisked you into the crowd.
It was extremely crowded when you and Mingyu got to the food stalls, and you nearly lost sight of each other a couple times. So, Mingyu held your hand, and he waded through the crowd quickly. The two of you were able to get your food so quickly, in fact, that you had time to sit and eat comfortably and get to explore the rest of the festival before returning back to your booth.
"How's your hangover now?" Mingyu asked as the two of you sat on the grass to eat your food.
"Gone, but I think we were just so busy that I got over it," you admitted while laughing.
"Good, but I got you this just in case."
From his pocket, Mingyu produced a tiny container of painkillers, and he handed you the water bottle that he purchased along with his food.
"Oh, wow! Thank you!" you said happily as you accepted the items from him.
"Don't take it now— you need to eat something first."
"I know, Gyu, you don't need to lecture me."
"Just making sure."
You and Mingyu smiled at each other before digging into your lunches. You talked about God knows what, and as the conversation continued, Mingyu kept finding ways to make you laugh, your heart fluttering more and more with every joke he threw your way.
"Hey, can I try some of yours? You can try mine," Mingyu said after there was a tiny lull in the conversation.
"Oh, sure."
You were going to hand him your lunch so that he could try it himself, but instead he opened his mouth— he wanted you to feed him?
"Mingyu, just take my lunch," you said with a sigh.
"No. I want you to feed me," he refused.
"Really?"
"Come on, I got you painkillers and water. The least you could do is feed me."
"This feels like an extortion," you mumbled as you held out your fork.
Mingyu happily chomped down on the fork, the dumb smile on his face making you smile as well. While he chewed, he held out his food for you to take a bite, and you did. You did happily.
After finishing your food (and taking the God-sent painkillers), you and Mingyu still had some time to spare before you had to be back at your booth. The two of you walked alongside each other as you observed your peers booths, your hands brushing against each other every so often.
It wasn't until half way through your walk did Mingyu get frustrated with how frequently his hand brushed yours. He ended up wordlessly holding your hand as you continued through the festival. Thank God you can't feel someone's heartbeat while holding their hand, otherwise Mingyu definitely would've felt your heart racing.
"I have a question for you," Mingyu said softly.
"What is it?"
"What are you doing after the festival is over?"
Your heart nearly fell out of your chest when you realized that you completely forgot about San, that you completely forgot to text him. You bit your lower lip and responded, "Just going home..."
"Then, would it be alright if I asked you to hang out with me after the festival?"
Your mind was reeling. On one hand, you needed to talk to San about what happened, but on the other, you were having so much fun with Mingyu, and you wanted to continue the fun.
"I promise, I won't bite," Mingyu added, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Unless you want me to."
With a laugh, you shoved Mingyu away, the two of you continuing to laugh as you returned to your club's booth.
You didn't have time to think about anything after that. Your booth got insanely busy and it stayed at that level for hours— even after the sun completely set, your booth was packed with people. You were so busy, in fact, you didn't even realize your roommate was right in front of you until he grabbed your hand.
"Did you forget what I look like or something?" San asked jokingly.
"Oh my God, San! When did you get here?"
"I've been at the festival for a bit now. Do you have time to talk?"
Under the guise of a bathroom break, you and San went to an isolated end of the festival. You stood across from each other, the awkwardness heavy in the air. San was scratching the back of his neck while you crossed your arms over your chest— it was a chilly night, and you didn't have a jacket.
"You ran out this morning," San finally started.
"Yeah, sorry. I was running late, and then I wanted to text you, but our booth got super busy," you explained. "You saw what it was like in there."
"Yeah, I figured you'd be busy since you were busy this week planning. Nice work on the booth, by the way."
"Thanks, we worked hard."
"I know."
The conversation lulled. You didn't know how to bring up the events of the night before, and San didn't say anything either, so the awkwardness only got heavier. The wind ended up filling your conversation, and it also sent a shiver down your spine.
"Did you not bring a jacket?" San asked as he watched you shiver and rub your arm to warm up.
"No, I ran out that quickly," you said, your teeth chattering.
With a small smile on his face, San took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The warmth from his body clung to the jacket, and it ended up warming you up faster.
"Thanks, San, but won't you get cold?"
"I was planning on heading home after talking to you, anyway... I guess we didn't really talk, did we?" San realized sheepishly.
"Yeah... Not really..."
God, it was even hard for you to get the words out. Maybe you needed some liquid courage before you had the conversation with him.
 "We, uh... We can talk when you get home."
"Alright. Get home safe, San," you nodded.
The two of you waved goodbye before San left, leaving you to return to the festival. After wearing San's jacket properly, you took a couple steps forward, only to see Mingyu standing before you.
"That was a pretty long bathroom break, don't you think?" he joked.
"Yeah, sorry. How long has it been?"
"Not that long. I was just messing with you."
"Gyu!" you let out a relieved laugh— you needed that after the tension between you and San earlier. "Cut it out. Let's get back to the booth."
You and Mingyu returned to the booth, and your club wrapped up business shortly thereafter. The booth breakdown and cleaning took a lot less time than anyone expected, so as soon as everyone was done, the entire club announced that you all would be going drinking. Before you could decline the invitation, you were whisked away to the local bar near campus.
Yet again, you forgot to text San. You wanted to tell him that you'd be home late, but every time you pulled out your phone to text him, someone distracted you. Everyone was trying to get you to drink heavily, but you only needed a light buzz to help you start this conversation with San, and if you were over the top drunk, there was no way in hell you were going to be able to have a sane conversation with him.
"Hey," Mingyu prodded your arm as he saw you chewing on your lower lip nervously. "You're not drinking as much as you normally do. Is everything okay? Is it the hangover?"
"N-No— well, maybe... I just don't want to drink too much tonight is all," you admitted to him.
"Wow, if only you were this responsible all the time, then we wouldn't have to worry about an insanely drunk version of you."
"Shut up!" 
You pushed Mingyu away while laughing, the man barely budging. If anything, he leaned in even closer to you and whispered in your ear, "I honestly want to get out of here. Come with me if you want to leave, too."
With that, Mingyu stood up. He turned back to look at you for a split second and held his hand for you to take, which you did. You both bid adieu to the rest of your drunken friends before leaving the bar.
As you walked into the night, Mingyu leaned closer to you and reminded you gently, "You still never told me your answer."
"To what?"
"Come hang out with me tonight. I promise I'll make it worth your time."
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YOU couldn't help but notice that Mingyu had a really nice place. You were honestly a little shocked at how refined his taste was, only for him to tell you that the place came fully furnished. Even then, he was joking around with you, making you feel comfortable and welcome in his home.
You ended up sitting on his couch while he rustled through the kitchen. Wielding two glasses of water, Mingyu joined you on the couch. You took one of the glasses from him and nursed your water while Mingyu let out a groan of exhaustion, his head hitting the sofa cushion behind him.
"Thank God we're finally done," he said loudly. "That festival took everything out of me."
"Same," you agreed. "I never want to do this again!"
"You know we have to do this again next year, right?"
"Fuck!"
Mingyu laughed loudly, and his laugh was so contagious that you couldn't help but laugh as well. You set the water glass down and got a little more comfortable on his couch while turning to face him.
"You looked really cute in the apron, by the way," he commented.
"What, that old thing? Really?"
"Honestly, you could make anything cute since you yourself are very cute."
You felt heat rise to your cheeks. You looked away shyly— even though his lines were so cheesy, you still loved the compliments, especially from him.
"I don't think you've ever called me cute before, Mingyu," you tried joking around with him. "What's gotten into you for you to say that so openly?"
"Hmm, it could be the alcohol, but I only had one beer..." he pondered. "I think I just wanted you to know. I don't think you hear it enough."
"Shut up," you giggled. "I hear it plenty."
"Are you sure? Because you're acting like you're hearing it for the first time," he teased.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"...Still, I want you to hear it. You're really cute."
"Stop it, Mingyu," you laughed.
"No, I need you to know that I think you're really cute."
Mingyu's fingers— you didn't even realize his hand was on your thigh— started rubbing light circles through the fabric of your pants. Your entire body flushed with excitement and desire. You started leaning towards him.
"I'm literally wearing leggings and the world's rattiest shirt because I didn't want to ruin any of my nice shirts."
"I told you, you can make anything cute because you're so cute."
"Yeah? You think I'm cute?"
"Yeah, I think you're super cute."
Mingyu moved his hand from your thigh to your ear, his fingers brushing your hair away before he ran his thumb along the ridge of your ear. Your ear felt like it was on fire when he did that, and heat surged through your body when you realized he was leaning in to kiss you. You met his kiss, your lips pressing against each other softly.
You couldn't help but giggle when he left another gentle peck on your lips because he was being so gentle, so careful with you.
"God, you're so cute," Mingyu breathed out when he heard you giggle.
His lips met yours a little more passionately. You reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled him a little closer before resting your hands on the back of his neck. The kisses only got more intense when his fingers moved from your ears to your hair, one hand holding the back of your head while the other held your waist. His fingers danced along the curve of your hip, and his hand messed up your hair further the more impatient he got with his kisses. His urgency made you giggle happily yet again, making him smile against your lips.
Mingyu ended up pulling you onto his lap, your knees on either side of him as you straddled him. Your giggles finally died down, but you kept smiling the more you kissed him because he was doing all the right things. He ran his hands from your thighs to your ass, up your back, and then back down along the curve of your waist. You were wearing the ugliest shirt known to mankind, but he really made you feel so cute and attractive in that moment.
Neither of you could seem to get enough of each other. His hands were starting to hold and squeeze your thighs, ass, and waist, while his breathing started hitching every so often the more passionately you kissed him. It certainly did not help when you cupped his face and kissed him while intentionally brushing your fingers along his ear.
"Nngh," Mingyu let out the tiniest noise that normally would've made you laugh, but you wanted him so badly at that point that the noise turned you on. "I... I want you."
"Good, because I want you too."
He exhaled happily, and finally, he started taking off your clothes. He took off your jacket and tossed it aside haphazardly. When he went to take your shirt off, he accidentally hooked his fingers in one of the holes and ripped right through your shirt.
"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry—"
"Gyu, I told you this was the rattiest shirt on Earth. I was going to throw it out anyway."
"So then you wouldn't mind if I did this..."
He grabbed your shirt at the collar, and with his sheer strength (not that he needed much of it because the shirt was seriously so worn down), he tore the shirt down the middle. You bit your lower lip, his simple action turning you on way more. He helped you get the shirt off before continuing to kiss you.
The articles of clothing came off one by one, Mingyu taking his sweet time with you because he wanted to relish every single moment. He had remained seated on the couch, and you were still straddling him. Before he could grab a condom, you got off the couch and sunk to your knees, his eyes widening. He suppressed a groan when you held his insanely massive cock, only for the groan to escape the second he felt your tongue lick the pre-cum off the tip of his cock. 
"Mmm, fuck, yes... Just like that," Mingyu groaned when you took him into your mouth slowly.
You couldn't take all of him just yet— you were still getting used to his size. You would go down on his cock, then resurface for air every time you got the tiniest bit further down. Mingyu was losing his mind the more you sucked his cock like that, his hands itching to run through your hair. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if he throat fucked you, and he seemed to pick up on that when you felt him hold the back of your head.
"God, you feel— Oh! Oh, yes, cutie... You feel so fucking amazing," Mingyu said while choking back his moans.
Mingyu calling you cutie made you want to do more for him. So, you hollowed out your cheeks and slurped, making him fling his head back into the sofa cushions and grit his teeth as his eyelids fluttered. His hold on your head got looser the more he lost his sanity, and just before he came, you stopped.
"How could you?" Mingyu gasped, his voice high from the euphoria.
"I need you inside me, Gyu," you said as you stood up. "I don't think I can wait any longer."
"Alright, cutie. C'mere," Mingyu held out one hand for you while his other hand successfully fished a condom from his wallet.
As soon as he rolled the condom on, you straddled him again. You spread your folds and held his cock to line it up with your entrance before sinking onto his cock slowly. The second he was the slightest bit inside you, you held his shoulders and gripped tightly— you knew he was going to stretch you out, but you still weren't prepared for his size.
"Gyu," your voice wavered. "You're so fucking big..."
"I'm sorry, cutie. Does it hurt?" he asked, the tiniest hint of worry in his voice.
"A little bit..."
"Then let me distract you."
He held your face and kissed you softly, the pain immediately melting away the more you focused on the sweetness of his kisses. When your hold on him got lighter, he guided your waist downwards, making you sink further onto his cock.
"Just like that," he whispered. "You're doing so well."
When the entirety of his huge cock was inside you— you couldn't believe that he actually fit— you felt like he had filled you up. You felt like you were actually stuffed with him inside you.
"Good job, cutie," Mingyu praised as he kissed your temple. "Do you think you can start moving?"
You nodded. With Mingyu's hands guiding you, you started bouncing lightly on his lap, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls warming you up immensely. You felt his hips roll up into yours every so often, making the sensation of him inside you all the more better. But, you were still moving a little too slowly for both you and him, which you figured out when you felt a hot sigh on your neck.
"Lean forward for me, cutie. I'm going to help you out."
You did as he said, and immediately, you started moving faster. You cried out when his hands lifted and slammed your ass, the feeling of his cock nearly reaching your cervix and the insane speed he was moving you at compared to your slower one from earlier making white flood your vision. You couldn't even warn him— you came so fast when he sat you down on his cock just hard enough for him to actually hit your cervix. You buried your face in his neck and cried as your orgasm took control over you, your arms and thighs shaking.
You thought Mingyu was going to tease you, but instead, he flipped you onto your back and pinned you on the couch, his cock still inside you. His cock throbbed inside you, and you realized that when you clenched around his cock when you came, you nearly sent him to heaven and back with how tight you were. You were still moaning and screaming his name as he repeatedly rammed his cock into you, and you clawed at his back unknowingly as the pleasure consumed the two of you. His jaw was tense, and sweat rolled down his face and bare body as he fucked you hard. He was grunting and holding back moans as he fucked you, the sound of the couch squeezing drowning out his own little sounds.
Both hands on your waist, Mingyu fucked you wildly. You clung to his arms, your nails digging into his skin as he continued to be so rough with you. It wasn't until he hovered over you and had his hands planted firmly on either side of your head did his pace finally slow down. Your hands moved from his arms to the back of his neck, and you brought him closer to you to kiss him.
"Fuck," he gasped, cutting off your kiss. "I'm— Shit! Fuck!"
Mingyu's head fell into the crook of your neck as he came hard, the condom inside you filling up entirely. He remained inside you as he regulated his breathing, his thick chest rubbing against your nipples as inhaled. The friction on your nipples made you moan slightly, catching Mingyu's attention immediately.
"What, do you want me to give your breasts some attention too?" he joked.
"Shut up— Hnngh! Oh!"
Your back arched when he laid alongside you and held your breast. He twisted and toyed with your nipple, and when he finally pulled out, he lowered himself so he could suck on your now sore nipple.
"Gyu," you sighed out, the pleasure from him playing with your breasts starting to get to your head.
"Yes, cutie?"
"...Do you have another condom?"
Mingyu looked up at your flushed face, a huge grin spreading across his.
"God, you're so fucking cute! Of course I do."
"Then let's go again."
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YOU woke up the next morning to see a singular text from your roommate. Usually, he would spam you to make sure you were okay, so the singular text really freaked you out.
"Gyu, I gotta get home. I totally forgot to tell my roommate I was going to spend the night here," you told the sleeping man next to you as you shook him awake.
"Cutie, this is so not cute of you," Mingyu grumbled.
"Seriously. I gotta go home."
"Then go..."
"I can't— you ripped my shirt last night."
Mingyu's eyes completely opened, and he laughed. He sat up and stretched while saying, "I totally forgot about that. Alright, I'll get up and give you a shirt."
And that's how you ended up wearing San's jacket and Mingyu's shirt home.
The second you got home, you walked into the apartment to see a very pissed San on the couch. When he heard you enter the living room, he stood up and walked towards you, the intensity of his actions making you take a couple steps back until your back was pressed against the wall.
"What the fuck happened to you last night?" San asked, his voice the scariest you'd ever heard it get.
"I—"
"You have no idea how fucking worried I was!"
At that point, you were fed up by the way San was talking to you, so you shot back, "You only sent me one text last night, and I'm sorry I missed it, but if you were so worried then you could've spammed me or called me like you normally do! Why are you being so pissy with me?!"
"I didn't want to bombard you because— We still haven't talked about anything, and I didn't want to overwhelm you!" San reasoned out but still with a booming voice.
"Why?!"
"You didn't text me in the morning, let alone tell me you were leaving the apartment, you didn't text me last night after the festival ended, and you didn't even text me that you were coming home this morning! I didn't know if you were mad at me or something!"
"Well, I'm not!"
"So then why didn't you text or call?!"
You went silent. There was nothing wrong with you sleeping with Mingyu, but you felt insanely guilty regardless. You looked down at your feet and heard San exhale deeply. He did his best to calm himself down before tilting your head up to meet his gaze.
"Where were you last—"
San cut himself off. You looked at him with wide eyes as he peeled his jacket off you to reveal Mingyu's shirt.
"You... You weren't wearing this last night... Whose shirt is this?" San asked quietly.
"Mingyu's," you answered in a pathetic voice.
"W-Why are you wearing his shirt?"
"Because he— I ripped mine," you quickly amended your words. "And I spent the night there..."
"Did... Uh... Did you sleep with him?"
There was no way in hell you were going to be able to lie to San.
"...Yes."
The guilt just piled on you. You didn't owe San a thing, and you weren't in a relationship with him or anything. All you did was kiss him, but the way he was looking at you made you feel like you were cheating on him or something.
"Take it off. Right now."
"Come on, San, it's just a shirt—"
"Take. It. Off."
"Okay, geez, since it bothers you so much, then I will. Let me just go to my room—"
You tried to brush past him, but he stopped you before you could. He wordlessly began taking the shirt off you himself— when he said right now, he really meant right now.
"What the fuck, San? Why are you—"
This time, to get you to shut up, San pulled the shirt off you and kissed you, your brain melting immediately. He held your body tightly, firmly, pressing his chest against you and you into the wall. Your fingers found the roots of his hair and tugged lightly as he made out with you so intensely that you thought your legs were going to give out.
"San— Ah! Mmm, San, wait," you tried to get him to stop when you felt him grope your ass.
"What? What is it? What am I waiting for now?" San asked with slight annoyance, his thin patience ready to snap.
"I just think I should shower..." you whispered. "Before we go further..."
San let your words sink in, and after a moment of letting them process, San let you go and moved out of the way.
When you went to take your shower, you didn't know what to expect. You had never seen San act that way before with anyone, and he wasn't the type to get jealous, so seeing the jealousy in his eyes made your body tremble. Honestly, after sleeping with Mingyu the night before, you thought that maybe you shouldn't do anything with San, but considering fucking San was all you could dream about since the first time you kissed him weeks ago, you couldn't deny yourself the opportunity— especially when it was being offered to you on a silver plate.
You emerged from the shower, and before you could even step foot in your room, you heard San pipe up from his room, "Don't bother. Come here."
Clad in your towel, you shuffled to San's room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed when you entered. You watched as his eyes scanned you from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, your body flushing with heat the more he stared at you like you were a piece of meat.
"Come. Sit here," San said while patting the space next to him after a moment of silence passed
"Can't I dry off first...?"
"I'll help you dry off. Come here."
You felt your face get hot. Maybe it was the tone he was taking— he wasn't being curt with you like he was before, but he wasn't being his normal self either. His voice was slightly deeper, more sensual, hotter, and the glint in his eyes made you want to melt before him.
You sat down on the bed next to him, his hand immediately moving to rest on the bed and right behind you, but he had yet to touch you. He inched closer to you, and your body tensed in anticipation, but he was still not touching you, and the slower he moved, the more insane it drove you.
"Tell me something," he whispered, his breath flitting past your cheek. "Do you want to talk now or later?"
"I, um," you gulped nervously, unsure of what to do because you knew that you should talk to him, but the way he was turning you on was too much for you to bear, and you desperately wanted him.
"I need to know..."
"...Later. I need you now."
Finally, San touched you when he wrapped his hand around your neck lightly and brought you in, his lips enveloping yours almost immediately. He was kissing you hungrily, like he could eat you up, and when he pressed his fingers into your neck slightly every so often, it just added to the euphoria. You moaned into the kisses, your hands grabbing at his sweater and pulling him closer.
The towel wrapped around your body slipped when you grabbed at the man more. The second the towel fell, San's hand found your breast, and he began kneading it with his large palm. You could barely focus on kissing him when you felt his fingers rub against your nipples repeatedly, the sensation turning you on faster.
"And," San breathed out in between kisses. "You're okay with doing this?"
"San, I'm more than okay with this," you sighed out.
San pinned you down on his bed and knelt above you. You watched through hazy eyes as he stripped down to nothing. You'd seen his chest and abs plenty of times because he had a horrible habit of wandering around the apartment shirtless, but what you weren't expecting was his thick cock. At first you didn't think his cock was that long, but when he started stroking it, you stood corrected.
Leaning over to his nightstand, San grabbed a condom and tore it open before tossing it on your chest.
"Put it on for me," he instructed (rather kindly).
You sat up and placed the condom on the tip of his cock. Then, using your mouth, you rolled the condom on. San was definitely not expecting you to do that, and when he saw you do that while looking up at him with big eyes, his entire body reacted.
Grabbing your arms, San pinned you on his bed once again, his one hand holding your wrists above your head. He left wet, sloppy kisses along your neck, collarbones, and breasts while simultaneously rubbing his cock along your folds. Every time the tip of his cock rubbed against your clit, your toes curled, and your back arched, pushing your body closer to his.
"Sannie," you panted, using your nickname for him. "Stop teasing me."
"Mmm, I think you can wait," San hummed. "You made me wait all night, after all."
San was fucking punishing you by edging you, and it was driving you in-fucking-sane. You couldn't do anything with your hands because he had them trapped above your head, and your legs were stuck because his knees were trapping your legs. The only thing you could do was writhe below him, your hips rolling towards his cock and trying desperately to get him inside you.
You wanted to scream at him when he moved his cock away, but you didn't because you felt two of his thick fingers enter you rashly. He fingered you quickly and roughly, the sounds of your pussy squelching along with your erotic moans filling up the room. Tears started filling up your eyes when he curled his fingers inside you as if he was looking for your G-spot. The second he did find it, your body convulsed. You let out a choking cry as you came, your arousal covering his hand and his sheets.
"Ah, there we go," San murmured. "You feel good?"
You whimpered and nodded as you were unable to formulate words.
"I'll make you feel a whole lot better now, baby."
Baby. That was the first time that word had ever left the man's mouth in the time you knew him, and it sent your heart on a sprint. The second the word settled on you, San's cock was raring to go. He rubbed the tip against your folds one final time before pushing it through, his cock spreading you painfully wide.
"Oh, fuck! San— It hurts!" you cried as you tried to free your hands from his grasp.
"Sorry, sorry," San apologized and immediately pulled out.
San finally let go of your wrists, allowing you to hold onto his forearms. He watched you visibly relax before kissing your cheek and saying, "I'm going to go again. I need you to breathe and relax for me, okay?"
You bit your lower lip and nodded. San brushed your hair out of your face and let you prepare for a second longer before placing himself at your entrance. The second you exhaled, San entered you again, and this time, it didn't hurt so bad. That being said, tears still slipped out of your eyes when you felt him fill you up slowly but surely.
"Good job, baby," he whispered and kissed the tears off your cheek.
You froze for a split second— you definitely had déjà vu when he said that, but he didn't give you time to sit and ponder because he started moving. You ended up wrapping your legs around his slim waist and your arms over his broad shoulders as he fucked you at a rough but steady pace.
"You're so fucking tight," San bit out. "Just like I imagined."
The way San's hips rolled into yours made you feel all sorts of ways. He was there, and he was inside you, but you felt like you couldn't get enough of him. You pulled him down and kissed him while he fucked you steadily, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you made out with him roughly. He sucked on your lower lip and tugged upwards, making your heart flutter a little more for him.
You couldn't help but feel disappointed when he pulled out, only for the slight disappointment to immediately vanish when you heard him say, "Turn around for me, baby. I want to see you on your hands and knees."
Trembling— you didn't realize that San's cock would completely demolish your body until you tried to move— you managed to get on your hands and knees. You felt San's hand grab your ass and squeeze it. The second he did, you arched your back, making the man chuckle.
"You liked that, huh?" San teased.
You for sure thought San was going to smack your ass after that, but instead, he grabbed the other cheek and did the same thing, both of his hands gripping your ass. He kneaded your ass until he himself lost his patience. He quickly shoved his cock into you— it didn't hurt now that you were used to his size— and immediately held onto your waist.
San fucking you from behind was exhilarating to say the least. The way his waist made contact with your ass, and the way he held your waist while he railed you into tomorrow made you feel so fucking good. You felt so good, in fact, that your arms gave out on you, your chest pressing into the bed while your arms laid flat alongside you.
The sudden change in angle was too much for San. He buried his cock deep inside you with one final thrust, a groan emanating from his entire being as he came. When he thrust into you that time, though, he hit your cervix, making you cum as well. You cried loudly while San moaned deeply as the two of you came together, and after the high of the orgasm wore off, he pulled out and threw the condom away while you melted into a puddle on his bed.
"Fuck," you mumbled as you laid down on his bed, San laying down in front of you. "That was amazing..."
"Yeah? Good."
He kissed your forehead before wrapping his arms around you, your face meeting his slightly sweaty chest. Being surrounded in his sweat only made you realize that, dammit, you had to shower again.
"This time, when you shower," San started— he read your mind somehow. "I'll join you."
"The fuck?"
"Yeah. Let's save water, baby. Let's reduce our water bill."
"Fuck off," you said with a laugh before hugging him closer.
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YOU didn't get to talk to San about what the hell your relationship was. You spent the rest of that day sleeping, and the day after, the two of you had classes— you weren't avoiding each other, but neither of you had the time to sit down and talk.
Plus, to make matters more complicated, Mingyu would flirt with you whenever he saw you. You didn't mind that he was flirting with you (because if San didn't want a relationship, then you could have one with Mingyu because you did like Mingyu too), but you felt a little weird that you were kind of leading him on.
"Hey, so, I was thinking," Mingyu leaned towards you and whispered. "After the club meeting..."
The whole club was in the club room discussing future events, and after the festival, there was an influx of members, so you and Mingyu resorted to standing on the side and leaning against the waist high cabinets. As he got closer to you, his hand slid towards your back, and he tiptoed his fingers along your spine.
"We should go back to my place."
He placed his palm flat against your back, and you nearly jumped out of your skin feeling his hot touch. Also, the fact that his lips were dangerously close to your ear made you extremely paranoid about the rest of the people in the room.
"Mingyu, can we not do this right now?" you asked through gritted teeth.
"Everyone's focused on the presentation, don't worry about it, cutie."
"Oh, then I think we should focus on the presentation, too."
You pushed Mingyu's face away, making the man chuckle and finally lean away from you. He leaned away, but his hand was still on your back, and his fingers began tracing patterns on your back. You couldn't focus on the meeting at all after that.
Before Mingyu got the chance to bring up the idea he had during the meeting, the e-board of your club announced that they all wanted to go drinking— how you and your club didn't have liver failure yet was beyond you— so the two of you were dragged to happy hour.
This time, you made sure to text San before you started drinking. You told him that you'd be out with your club and that you were at a popular restaurant on campus (someone managed to convince the president to go to a place where you could also get food).
san: look up
You looked up, and sitting at the bar with a friend was your roommate. He waved at you briefly before going back to his phone.
san: lmk when you're done with dinner san: we can head home together
You replied with the okay emoji, and he sent an emoji that made you laugh. You put your phone away happily knowing that you and San were at least okay.
"Who're you texting for you to be smiling like that?" Mingyu asked as he took the seat next to you.
"My roommate," you responded.
"Huh."
You looked over to see a slight look of displease on Mingyu's face before it suddenly vanished and got replaced by a sultry smile.
"So, after dinner tonight, why don't we go back to my place?" Mingyu picked up where you both left off.
"I don't— Oh..."
You were going to decline him, but when you felt his large hand cup your thigh and began rubbing it, you lost the words.
"What do you say, cutie?"
You didn't answer because you really didn't know what to say. Plus, his hand was nearing your crotch, and your brain was swimming with all of the dirty thoughts in the world, so there was no way for you to say anything coherent.
Mingyu seemed to be having the time of his life turning you on like that. He was still talking to the rest of the club members like normal and getting food and drinks while you were all sorts of hot and bothered. Your club mates thought you were getting drunk because every time they tried to talk to you, it took a while for you to respond, so they cut you off before you could even start drinking that night.
"Mingyu, please," you gasped and tried to push his hand away. "Not now."
"Alright, so later then," Mingyu finally let go of your thigh and winked at you.
Damn, he really was going to get his way, wasn't he?
Dinner was dragging on for a while, and you couldn't leave until you settled the bill, so you tried to see if you could talk to a club mate and tell them you'd pay them later, but they were so caught up in their own world that you couldn't talk to them.
Thankfully, San ended up approaching your table— he finished his dinner with his friend and was waiting for several minutes to see if you were done.
"Hey, you ready to go?" San asked you.
"Oh, uh—"
"Hey, San. How are you?" Mingyu interjected and talked to your roommate.
"Mingyu! I'm fine, how are you?"
"I'm good. So, listen... I'm taking her home tonight."
You froze. The chatter from your table slowly died down as the tension between San and Mingyu rose.
"Uh, I don't think so. We both agreed that we'd walk home together," San argued.
"Huh, because I remember making plans with her to go back to my place later tonight, so..."
Before the argument could actually start, you stood up and grabbed both men's arms and called out to the club, "Hey, let me know what Gyu and I owe, okay? We're heading out! Bye!"
You dragged the two outside and stood between them so that nothing could happen. Granted, you knew they wouldn't start swinging fists at each other because they weren't the type to do that, but it didn't hurt to be safe.
"I think you need to give us some answers, cutie," Mingyu said in a low tone that sent shivers down your spine.
"Okay, when we got to the restaurant, I texted San, and he told me that he was also there, so said we should head home together, but then you started coming onto me, and... Yeah..."
"So are you saying I shouldn't have come onto you?"
"No, I'm saying I—"
You were about to tell Mingyu that you needed him to fuck you, but you realized that San was standing right behind you, and you didn't need to deal with his wrath either.
"Oh," Mingyu smirked. "Got it."
Yeah, you were going to have to deal with San's wrath.
"You can't be serious right now—" San scoffed and rolled his eyes before you covered his mouth.
"Let's just go home, okay? We can talk about it later," you started pushing San in the direction of your apartment.
"I think we should all talk about it right now," Mingyu interjected as he grabbed your shoulder.
"Gyu, I'm tired—"
"If you think I'm going to just let you go without an explanation, you're crazy."
Next thing you knew, you were sitting in between a very annoyed Mingyu and a very annoyed San, the two of them glaring daggers at each other.
"I can't believe you're in my apartment," San said with a frown.
"It's not just your apartment, dude. It's her apartment too," Mingyu pointed out. "Besides, I was going to get here eventually."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Alright! Alright, calm down," you immediately put your hands on San's shoulders to calm him down, Mingyu eyeing you as you patted San's arms.
"Hey, remember when I asked you if anything was going on between you and your roommate a couple of weeks ago?" Mingyu asked you while poking your arm. "Did you lie to me?"
"No, I didn't— Nothing happened—"
"Nothing happened? You freaking kissed me—"
"San, shut up," you bit out and covered his mouth with your hand before he could go further.
"So you did lie to me?" Mingyu looked like a hurt puppy dog. "I thought we were friends."
"We are! I just— It was more complicated back then," you sighed.
"Yeah, right—"
"San, shut the fuck up! I'll explain," you slapped his mouth lightly.
"So what's the truth?"
"Okay, a couple of weeks ago, I was really drunk— Don't!" you stopped San before he could say something stupid about your drinking habits. "And I kissed him, but the next morning, I lied and told him I didn't remember anything. So, when I told you, Gyu, that nothing happened between San and I, it was just a continuation of that lie."
"Oh... Okay, that's fine," Mingyu smiled and leaned back.
"Huh?"
"Well, if you lied about not remembering, it means that you didn't want to kiss him, right?"
"No, that's not—"
"Dude, she lied about it to protect our friendship," San interrupted. "Not because she didn't want to kiss me."
"Okay, whatever you need to tell yourself, little guy."
"Excuse me?"
"Little guy. You know. 'Cuz you're short."
You buried your face in your hands when you felt San get off the couch and heard him yell, "You're just freakishly tall!"
"Which also means you're short!"
"Both of you sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up!" you ordered the two of them.
Reluctantly, they both sat down, but the heavy tension remained. It only got worse when you heard San grumble under his breath but loud enough for both you and Mingyu to hear, "She made out with me twice, asshole."
"Okay, but that means nothing to me," Mingyu scoffed. "I slept with her."
"God..." you buried your face in your hands again.
"Yeah, I know," San rolled his eyes. "You're not special."
"What?"
If only the couch could swallow you whole.
"I said you're not special—"
"No, hold on— You slept with her too?" Mingyu asked in complete disbelief.
"Yeah, I did."
"Lord..." you groaned and buried your face further into your hands.
A silence swept over the apartment, and the tension got so thick, you could cut a butter knife into it. You truly thought both men were going to be done with you, think you're a slut, and tell you to get the fuck out of your own apartment. You sighed and placed your hands on your knees, and just as you were about to get up, Mingyu spoke.
"Okay, so, if that's the case... Cutie," the fact that Mingyu still called you by the nickname he gave you did not bode well for you. "Who fucked you better?"
"What?!"
"Who was better?" Mingyu asked again as if you couldn't hear him. "Me or your roommate?"
"I— I— Help," you stammered.
"She's not going to answer that because she shouldn't have to," San nearly spat at the other man.
"Oh, shut up. I know you wanna know, too."
San actually listened to Mingyu and shut up— he did want to know.
"Who?" San asked you in a tiny voice.
"God, what the fuck, you guys?! Just stop!" you finally put your foot down and got off the couch. "Can we just... Do this later?"
"See? She doesn't want to say because she knows I'm better," Mingyu leaned towards San now that you weren't in the middle to keep them apart from each other.
"Shut the fuck up. She's trying not to hurt your feelings, asshole," San leaned forward as well, both men ready to attack each other (although, to you, it looked like a cat and a dog fighting).
"Stop!" you pushed both men from each other again and sat between them once more. "Stop fighting—"
"Then tell us who is better."
"I— I don't— Ugh! Look, I don't remember, okay?" you said with a huff of frustration. "I don't know who is better, so just drop it."
Surprisingly, they dropped it— at least you thought they did. They moved closer to you, one man wrapping his arm around your waist, the other grabbing your arm and thigh, sandwiching you between them.
"Then, we'll just have to fuck you again."
"And you can tell us who's better after."
Before you even had time to process what either of them were saying, Mingyu grabbed your face and started kissing you. Refusing to lose, San took a different route. He sank off the couch and knelt in front of you. He held your knees and opened your legs up before rubbing circles on your clothed clit with his thumb. You couldn't help but moan when you felt San's touch, your entire body reacting to him.
San hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled them off you, your panties still clinging to your waist. He resumed rubbing circles on your clit before bringing his face between your legs and licking a stripe over your panties. You tried to close your legs, but San's strength kept one leg in place while his shoulder blocked the other. He pulled your panties to the side before licking your cunt up and down, his tongue gliding through your folds. You ran your fingers through San's hair and pulled in attempt to get him to slow down, but with every tug, San only got more reckless.
"Cutie, pay attention to me, too," Mingyu whispered to you before his tongue dove into your mouth.
Mingyu took your other hand and put it over his crotch, making you feel exactly how hard he got. While you made out with him, you started massaging his cock through his pants, his breath hitching when you squeezed it just right. Truthfully, with the way San was eating you out, you didn't think you had the strength to even hold onto his hair, but you managed to both keep tugging on roots and pull Mingyu's cock out of his pants.
"Fuck," Mingyu mumbled before sharply inhaling. "Oh, God..."
He stopped kissing you and stood up, your eyes barely following him as San used that opportunity to suck sweetly on your clit. Mingyu stripped down and rubbed his insane cock a couple times while nearing your mouth.
"Suck this for me, won't you, cutie?"
You licked your lips before taking Mingyu's cockhead into your mouth, the man immediately shuddering the second he felt your lips. You heard him exhale through grit teeth as you took more of him in. He held the back of your head, but he didn't move you— he just kept his hand planted on you while you moved and occasionally gagged on his length.
San, meanwhile, decided to slip one of his fingers into your cunt, his tongue flicking your sore bud rapidly. He fingered you slowly at first, but every time he heard you slurp Mingyu's cock, he got faster. He added a second finger to the mix before shoving them in you roughly and rapidly, the knot in your stomach tightening at an exponential rate. It was when he added the third finger did you take Mingyu out of your mouth to cry loudly and cum all over San's fingers.
You didn't see it, but there was a slightly triumphant smile on San's face that immediately disappeared when Mingyu guided your head back to his cock. When he felt your hands on his pelvis, Mingyu started throat fucking you, your gagging sounds only getting louder. Saliva started to drip from the corners of your mouth the harder he fucked your mouth, and every so often, he would let you breathe, the thickest snail trail connecting his cock to your mouth.
The sight of you looking completely fucked out by Mingyu's cock was a little too much for him to handle. He let you go and watched you through darkened eyes as your chest moved heavily every time you breathed. Before he got the chance to touch you, though, San— who took off his own clothes— ran his hands up your shirt and bra and went for your breasts.
"How do you feel, baby?" San asked in a gentle voice.
"M-More, Sannie..." you whined.
"Okay, baby, I got you."
San helped you out of the rest of your clothes and tossed them aside while Mingyu sat back down on the couch and nudged your upper body away from him so that you were propping yourself up on your elbows. San brushed your hair out of your face and pet your hair before holding his own cock up to your mouth. He didn't even have to say anything— you opened your mouth automatically for him and started sucking.
"Good girl," San praised as he sighed with pleasure. "That's my baby."
Mingyu had rolled on a condom by this time and was already playing with your cunt when you started sucking San's cock. When he heard San praise you, Mingyu rubbed his cock along your folds before entering you slowly, his cock spreading you open. He groaned softly before bottoming out, making you moan on San's cock.
San's hips rolled towards you as he steadily got more impatient seeing Mingyu fucking you from behind. Mingyu was moving at a slower pace, but San could see that he wanted to go faster and that you wanted more based off the way you were gyrating your hips. He only got more irritated when he saw Mingyu hook his arm under your leg and pull it up and towards his chest. Your cunt was swallowing Mingyu's cock so perfectly, and if Mingyu jerked his hips up just right, his cock would bulge out slightly.
Not only was his cock bulging, but it was also going so deep inside you that you felt your high building again. You took San out of your mouth and turned to face Mingyu while whimpering for more.
"Gyu," you cried. "Harder, please—!"
Mingyu didn't need to be told twice. He rammed his hips into yours, little grunts leaving his chest with every thrust. You reached for his head and ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand grabbing the couch for stability. You were biting your lower lip hard— so hard, in fact, that you were about to make yourself bleed. You would've bled if San hadn't tilted your head towards him and kissed you. He sucked and nibbled on your lower lip while Mingyu continued to fuck you from behind.
The tension within you snapped, and you felt yourself squirting, but Mingyu just kept thrusting through the fluid, soaking you, him, and the couch up.
"Mingyu— Fuck! I'm cum— Ah! Cumming!" you cried while trying to push him away.
Finally, he pulled out, letting you finish in peace. Your entire body trembled as you squirted for what felt like an eternity, and it certainly did not help when Mingyu drove two of his thick fingers into you and fingered you roughly, getting you to cum again. You grabbed at his arm to get him to let up, but Mingyu was strong, and he wanted you to cum until you saw all the stars.
As soon as Mingyu's fingers left your body, San turned you around so that you were pinning Mingyu on the couch before rolling on his own condom. Your chest rubbed against Mingyu's while your ass was high in the air, and you buried your face in the nook of Mingyu's neck the second you felt San's thick cock rub between your asscheeks.
"How are you feeling, cutie?" Mingyu murmured as he ran his hands along your waist and back.
"Gyu— Oh! Oh, fuck!" you cried when San's cock entered you, making you unable to finish your thoughts.
You clung to Mingyu's shoulders as San rut into you, his hands pulling your waist into his cock as he fucked you. You cried out with every thrust, your cunt still recovering from Mingyu fucking you rough and making you cum hard. You were breathing hard and heavily as San's cock filled you up and spread you wide, and you gasped when you felt his hand make contact with your ass.
"Sannie— Oh! Good! Feels so good," you choked out when he spanked you again.
"I didn't know you liked things like that, cutie," Mingyu teased you.
You whined and nodded, your body lurching when San smacked your ass once more.
"What about this?" Mingyu asked as he ran his fingers down your face and to your lips. "Do you like things like this?"
Mingyu stuck his fingers in your mouth, and you immediately started sucking. He bit his lower lip and stared at you hungrily, your heart thumping at the sight. He took his fingers back and brought your head down to kiss him. Your tongue danced with his as he kissed you ferociously, his canine occasionally scratching your lips lightly.
San leaned forward as his thrusts sped up, making your back arch and your chest lower onto Mingyu's, your cries getting louder. The second his cock rubbed against your G-spot, you saw white, and you came, your legs shaking as you screamed in pleasure. San pulled out and spread your ass cheeks, letting you squirt all over the couch and Mingyu's, yours, and his legs.
"Oh.. My God..." you panted while looking back at San.
San chuckled and smoothed out your hair before leaving a fluttering kiss on your temple. The moment was very brief because next thing you knew, Mingyu had turned your attention back to him when he rubbed his cock against your clit then stuff himself inside you.
"Oh, cutie, you're not off the hook just yet," Mingyu tsked. "Don't you think I should get to cum too?"
"Yeah, he's got a point," San added as he prodded his own cock into your already full hole.
"Sannie, no, don't," you started panicking when you felt him start to push his way through. "You won't fit!"
"Just take a deep breath, baby. You can fit both of us," he promised you.
You listened to his soothing voice and inhaled. As you exhaled, San pushed his cock through. Sure, he fit, but you still screamed when you felt both men's big, throbbing cocks inside you. Tears filled your eyes and trickled down your face as San bottomed out, both men wincing at how tight you were with both of them inside.
"I bet you I can last longer," Mingyu challenged San.
"Keep dreaming," San shot back.
You would've smacked the two of them silly if you weren't absolutely losing your mind in that moment. You actually found the words to yell at them, but before you could get them out, the two of them started moving. You felt like your insides were going to get pulled out by the sheer force of their cocks rubbing inside you.
When Mingyu rammed his hips upwards, you felt his cock bulge in you, making you cry loudly; and when San snapped his waist against yours, you felt your arms and legs nearly give out. They were moving slowly, but they were moving so powerfully that you felt every single movement they made vibrate through your entire body.
You don't know who did it, but stars rapidly accumulated in your vision, and you clenched around both men as you came yet again. Your crying moans filled the room, and they were accompanied by both Mingyu and San groaning loudly. When you clenched around their cocks, neither one of them could hold back anymore. They shoved their cocks deep inside you and came loudly, the three of you moaning, groaning, and crying in pleasure.
San pulled out first, and his labored breathing died down when he filled up his condom entirely. Mingyu slipped his cock out shortly thereafter and sighed heavily as his body fully relaxed below you. 
"Look at you all fucked out, cutie," Mingyu chuckled as he cupped your face.
"Mmhmm," you mustered out while nuzzling your face into his large palm.
"Hey, now. Don't go making your decision just yet," San, after throwing out his condom, returned to the living room and helped you up to your feet.
You collapsed into San's chest and clung to him, his strong arms holding you up.
"I think she should make the decision now that it's fresh in her mind," Mingyu argued with San yet again.
"Stop," you mumbled. "Don't make me choose..."
"You kind of have to, baby," San whispered.
"Can't I just have both of you?" you whined.
Both Mingyu and San looked at each other with slight surprise.
"You couldn't handle us both this one time, so how are you going to handle both of us for the rest of your life?"
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fremulon · 3 days
Text
Crowley was rather proud of the Employee Hellpline. There had been a contest, about twenty years back, to create the most confusing phone structure possible, and Crowley had won. (He'd got inspired by calling up a telecom company to cancel service. Despite the fact that he'd made the call without an account, he'd left having agreed to a phone/television/Internet bundle and two magazine subscriptions.)
What he’d forgotten was the fact that he was an Employee, and thus had to navigate the labyrinthine obscurity of the Hellpline every time he needed to put in a request for a little extra power or office supplies. Fortunately, he didn't tend to make many calls; unfortunately, this meant that any insight he gained into the pattern had generally evaporated by the next time he had to face it.
Which was how he came to be sitting in his car, twenty minutes late for lunch, being informed in a monotone that he’d better listen carefully to the following menu, as options might have changed.
“For complaints about colleagues, press 1. For complaints colleagues made about you, press 2. For accounts payable, press 3, then 8, then turn the phone around and repeat. For accounts receivable, enter your ID in reverse. For all other financial requests, spell the first 10 pages of the Bee Movie script using your keypad. For—”
There was a knock at the window. “Are you quite all right?” Aziraphale said.
Crowley rolled the window down, half-listening to the phone menu. “Sorry I’m late—”
“You weren’t late. You drove up twenty-five minutes ago and took the ‘Reserved for Customers of AZ Fell & Co’ spot. So no actual customers have been able to park here this entire time. Which is dreadful,” Aziraphale added happily. 
“This concludes the menu. Make your selection in the next four seconds or this call will be terminated. Four…three…” Crowley racked his brains attempting to remember whether accounts payable was 8, then 3, or— “Good-bye,” the voice said, with gloomy satisfaction, and hung up.
“Ahhh, sanctify it.”
“What?”
“I’m trying to get this reimbursement through. I had to buy eighty live bats for this work thing, and apparently that kind of order can’t go through the normal process. So I’m on the Hellpline. But this consecrated phone—”
“Didn’t you design the system?”
“Might’ve done.”
“May I?” 
Crowley hit Redial and placed the phone in Aziraphale’s outstretched hand.
Aziraphale listened thoughtfully to the first list of menu options, then tapped the phone. He listened a bit longer, tapped twice more, said, “Mammal, not otherwise specified,” and handed it back. 
A voice crackled in Crowley's ear. “Accounts payable, living creatures from twoscore to nine dozen. How can I hinder you today?”
“One sec,” Crowley said, and moved the phone away. “How’d you do that?”
“It was yours, wasn’t it?” 
“Yeah.”
“I suppose I simply know how to thwart you,” said Aziraphale smugly. “Go on,” he said, nodding at the phone as he got in the car. “We’re late.”
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tinycoffeeroom · 3 days
Text
miami heat | lando norris
face claim: none ♡
request: here !
a/n: this is SO late but it took me forever to move past the writers block of a text only fic </3 still thinking about lando's race win...
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You and Lando had been inevitable. Your dad was a long time racing fan, often attending karting events around the country and dragging you along. As time passed, you learned to love it too, often waiting for your dad at the door when he got back from work so the two of you could quickly throw some clothes into an overnight bag and travel off to whichever race track you’d be camping in that weekend.
It helped that your cousin was a kart racer, both you and your dad using him as an excuse for attending so many races. Your mum would sigh, pull out the premade lunches from the fridge and stuff them into a small blue cooler before seeing the two of you off at the door. 
When your cousin got the call up to F4, you’d been overjoyed for him. Being able to watch his dreams come true filled you with so much pride. It also gave you and your dad another excuse to attend more F4 races, now offering to pick your cousin up and take him from race track to race track every weekend as well as your dad offering to be his race engineer, using his background as a mechanic to work on the car’s engine. Your aunt and uncle agreed happily, knowing how much the two of you enjoyed watching your cousin race. 
The first live F4 race felt electrifying. You weren’t used to seeing actual cars racing in person, only ever watching the Formula 1 races on the small portable TV your dad had invested in during the first year of your kart watching adventures. You and your cousin would always cheer for your favourite racers, him still sweaty and suited up from his own race but pumped up on adrenaline. 
You watched as he fist bumped other drivers after the race, coming a respectable 4th in his first ever F4 race. This part was your least favourite, having to wait for your cousin to talk to all these sweaty teenage boys was not your idea of fun. Spread out comfortably on the moon chairs your dad had bought for the races, you opened your 3DS to play Pokemon Sun. Too enveloped in the battle between your Incineroar and the NPC’s Crabominable, you missed the sound of someone dropping into the chair next to you. 
“What level is he?”
You jumped at the sound, looking up quickly to lock eyes with a random boy. 
He was obviously a racer, still suited up. Using one hand to push back sweat soaked curly hair, he curiously eyed your 3DS before looking back up at you. 
“She’s level 57. I need to beat this Crabominable to make her 58 so she can learn Flare Blitz.”
He hummed, a soft smile spread across his face as he flits his eyes over you. You took note of your appearance, hair pulled back into two braids to keep it out of your face in the windy English weather, your dads bomber jacket engulfing your figure as you fought the cold. 
“Female Incineroar, rare.” He sounded impressed. “Don’t let me stop you.” Gesturing to the console in your hands, he leant back and focused on your hands. 
Unsure of how to respond, you looked back down at your game. The Crabominable had about half HP but this was a nasty NPC, whipping out potion after potion to heal the Pokemon. You and the unnamed boy sat side by side as you chipped away, bit by bit, at the Crabominable’s HP until the victory message appeared on your screen. A mere 2000 pokedollars given for your troubles.
You watched as your Incineroar, lovingly nicknamed Kitty from when you started the game, levelled up to 58 and finally, she could learn Flame Blitz. 
Saving the game and shutting down the console, you looked back at the boy beside you. He smiled back in response. 
“So… no offence, but who are you?” The second the sentence left your lips, you wanted to smack the 3DS into your face, tone not unkind but wary. You could only hope he wouldn’t take offence to the question. 
“Oh, sorry!” He reaches across to offer you his hand. You shake it gingerly, his hand warm in your wind chilled one. 
“I’m Lando. Lando Norris. Soon to be F4 champion if all goes well. And you are?”
He was still smiling, the curve unnerving you a little. “Y/N. My cousin’s just joined F4, he’s over there.” Reaching out, you pointed towards the boy in question who was high fiving another racer, the two of them laughing loudly over the sound of car engines. 
“Oh, Y/C/N? He’s cool. I met his dad earlier.”
You glanced over at the man mentioned, head bowed as he conversed with the other adults about race tactics and the boys’ performances. “That’s my dad, his uncle. He’s a mechanic so it made sense that he would be Y/C/N’s race engineer.”
“What about you? Are you a big karting fan?” 
From the sound of his voice, you could tell he was facing you. Too nervous to look into his eyes again, you focused on your dad, watching as he pulled your cousin aside to talk about the race. “I am. Me and my dad have been going to karting events most weekends for years.” 
His eyes burned into the side of your face, gaze unwavering. “How about Formula 1? That’s my dream, I want to race against Lewis Hamilton and one day beat him.”
The mention of your favourite driver dragged your attention back to the boy beside you. You smiled softly, pulling your iPhone 6 out of your pocket to show him the 44 sticker on the back of the case. “I love Formula 1. Me and Y/C/N are gonna watch the race in the van while my dad makes some adjustments to the car. Do you…” You hesitated for a moment.
Were you really going to invite a boy you’d just met to come sit with you and your cousin to watch a race? It was harmless, the three of you would fit in the back seats, but you weren’t sure if Y/C/N would want him to join. 
Lando beat you to it. “Aw, I would ask to join but me and my dad have to get back home as soon as possible, it’s my sister's birthday this weekend!” Pulling his own phone out of his pocket, he showed you his lockscreen, a picture of him and who you guessed was his family. 
You nod, turning your own phone in circles in your hands. “Happy birthday to your sister.” 
He grins, the smile seemingly permanently etched on his face. “Thanks, Y/N!” 
You hear a man call for him, presumably his dad. Lando sighed as he nodded towards the man, turning back towards you. “Gotta run! Could I maybe get your number? I think we’re going to be good friends.”
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
He was right. The two of you would text every moment you could. In between classes, before and after dinner, even facetiming until the early hours of the morning on weekends. 
Every weekend, you’d pull up to the race track and there Lando would be, permanent wide smile and open arms as you hugged briefly. Before each race, he’d run over to you, head bowed so you could knock on his helmet. You weren’t sure when the tradition had started but ever since it began, it was cemented in his pre-race routine. 
After every race, it would go one of two ways. If it was a good race, he’d run over and hug you, spinning you round as you laughed brightly at him. If it was a not so good race, you’d be the one to approach him, the two of you sitting on the lip of his dad’s van in comfortable silence as you let him work through his emotions in his own time. He’d soon come around, chatting to you about any and everything. 
Before you’d leave, he’d pull you into another hug, swaying the two of you from side to side. 
Of course, your cousin teased you. Singing silly childish songs, “Y/N and Lando sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G”. You’d bat him across the head, willing the blush in your cheeks to go down. 
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
Since the two of you were now 16, whilst Lando had allowances for his GCSE’s, you still had to knuckle down and work hard. Hours were spent sitting at your desk, eyes scanning across textbook after textbook. It was only after Lando called you in tears after he struggled to understand the poems needed for his English exams and explained he had dyslexia that the two of you would facetime every night. You’d read out the poems to him as he took it all in and made notes in a way that made sense to him. You told him about these coloured overlays that were meant to help people with dyslexia read, and you’d watch him cry as pink acetate covered the poems and he could finally, finally, understand. The two of you still facetimed every night, he claimed your voice helped him understand so much more. 
Since you had to revise, you often had to forfeit your racing weekends. You’d see your dad and cousin off at the door, much like your mum had done for years, and return to your room, wiping the tears that threatened to escape from your eyes. 
The routine never changed though. Lando would call you before every race, telling you that you had to knock on the screen and he’d hold his helmet clad head to the camera. After every race, you’d either celebrate over the phone or sit in silence, watching him through the screen as he let himself digest what went wrong in the race. 
Your last GCSE exam fell on a Friday, the freedom of your weekends returning. You didn’t tell Lando, wanting to surprise him at the race track. As you sat in the back seat of your dad’s van, you kept up the pretence for Lando, texting him as if you had a normal weekend of revising ahead. 
When the three of you pulled up to the race track, you ducked down so you weren’t visible through the windows. Your dad got out of the car first, greeting Lando’s dad. The two of them had formed a good friendship through the race weekends, often sitting together to watch the boys go round the track. Next up was Y/C/N, jumping out the van and fist bumping a waiting Lando. 
The two boys went to leave, already play fighting about who would win. It was only then that you snuck out the back seat, hands on your hips as you called out to the boys ahead. 
“Forgetting something?”
Lando’s head whipped around so fast, you feared he’d give himself whiplash. You barely had time to laugh at his dumbstruck expression before he’d launched himself at you, strong arms wrapped tight around your waist as he lifted you in the air. 
He pressed his face deeply into your neck, the feel of his smile present against your skin. 
Linking your arms around the back of his neck, you played with the unruly curls tickling your chin. “Missed me?”
He nodded, head still firmly placed between your neck and shoulder. The two of you stood there for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence until your cousin piped up. 
“We do still have a race to get to.” Locking eyes with him, you could already tell he was going to tease you relentlessly when you’re back in the van. 
Lando finally released you, hands still holding firm on the sides of your waist. Warm smile directed at you, eyes glistening a little with unshed tears. 
Lando’s dad bumped his helmet against his shoulder, Lando taking it and pulling on his balaclava and the helmet. He bowed his head, allowing you to knock on it once. This time however, he knocked on your own head once, hand uncurling to cup the side of your face before he walks away to join your cousin. 
In that moment, you knew you were in love with Lando Norris. 
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The two of you stayed close throughout the years. You still attended as many races as possible, celebrating his wins and commiserating through his lows. Soon you were watching him in Formula 3, then Formula 2 and finally, after all his hard work, you stood in the paddock of Albert Park watching as Lando was flanked by engineers. 
His debut Formula 1 race. 
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The day you got the call that he’d been contracted by McLaren was one of the best days of your life. It took him 5 minutes to calm down enough to explain to you what had happened, the two of you sobbing violently over the phone as you realised his dream had come true. 
As you collected yourself once you’d gotten off the phone, your mum had come upstairs with a packed lunch and a flask of fresh, warm coffee. Looking at her questioningly, she smiled softly at you. 
“Go. You need to celebrate with him in person.”
You grabbed the box and flask from her hands, arms thrown wide around her. Packing a quick overnight bag, you jumped in your car, haring down the motorway to Lando’s parents house. 
The look on his face when he opened the door made the possible speeding tickets worth it, eyes wide and glossy as they flit up and down your body. “You’re here?”
You grinned at him, wide and unabashed. “I’m here.”
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The cycle continued. Every podium was met with you running into his arms when he was back in the garage and every DNF resulted in the two of you sitting in his driver’s room, your arms wrapped tight around him as the dream of a grand prix win slipped from his grasp again and again. 
Today, something was different however. Lando had knocked on your door bright and early, inviting you down for breakfast with the team. He told you about a dream he had last night where he won the Miami Grand Prix, how the champagne shower had felt so real. 
This unwavering optimism continued throughout the day. Him bouncing alongside you as you walked through the paddock, greeting the other drivers along your way. The optimism rubbed off on you, finding yourself pulling up old photos of Lando to save to a folder titled “Race Win”. 
When it came time to get in the car, you watched as his engineer secured the final straps before disappearing behind a screen to check the car’s stats. He looked up at you through the open visor, head soon bowing. Leaning down, you knocked once before dropping a quick kiss to the top of his helmet. Extra luck for the day. 
The entire race had you on the edge of your seat. You cheered as Oscar led the grand prix, winced as Max hit the bollard and nearly sobbed your eyes out as Lando overtook to lead. Kevin pushing Logan off the track meant a safety car and Lando ended up fortunate to join at the back but one lap ahead. A pit stop and fresh tires and away he went. Each second he gained on Max left spikes in your heart rate until it reached the 7 second mark and the last 4 laps and you knew. Deep down in your soul, even if everyone was still on tenterhooks, you knew this was his time. His win. 
The engineers ran to the fences, an army of papaya swarming the metal chain link as your eyes stayed glued to the camera. At the last second, you darted out to the fence, away from the chanting crowd so you’d have an unobstructed view of his win. 
The chequered flag waved and Lando crossed the finish line, now a grand prix winner. You couldn’t have stopped the tears even if you tried, knees buckling as you held onto the fence in front of you. 
The noise around you was near deafening, engineers dog piling on one another, a few strays leaving the group to wrap you in tight hugs. 
A hand landed on your shoulder, warm but soft pats pulling you from your stupor. Turning, you looked up at Zak, a fond smile on his face. “Let’s go see our boy.”
The two of you walked in near silence, Zak leaving his hand on your shoulder as he welcomed congratulations from other teams. The tears never stopped streaming down your face, vision swimming as you passed team after team. 
The breath was knocked out of you as arms wrapped around your waist from behind and swung you around. Looking down, you spotted the rose tattoo on a left hand and laughed as Daniel dropped you back softly onto the ground. Spinning around, you threw yourself into his arms properly, the two of you rocking back and forth happily. 
“He did it!” Daniel shouted as you pulled away, hands on your shoulders to shake you gently. 
“He did it!” You responded, a fresh wave of tears escaping your eyes. Daniel laughed at your tears, wiping them away haphazardly before letting you run back to Zak’s side. 
You watch as Lando ran towards his team, still fully suited up, launching himself into the air as the sea of papaya below caught him. The team held him aloft, jostling him through a mass of hands. 
Once he’s back on solid ground, Zak approached him first, the two of them sharing a warm hug. The visor of his helmet is lifted and without even seeing his face, you know he’s smiling, eyes scrunched up in joy. 
Those same eyes finally lock onto you, wide and sparkling. He runs at you as fast as he can, arms outstretched. You brace for impact, a laugh being pressed out of you as he crushes you in his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist as he lifts you up, warm eyes staring straight into yours. 
Before you even know what you’re doing, your lips press against the front of his helmet, right where his own mouth would be beneath the carbon fibre, a universal sign in racing of a lover’s kiss. 
Ignoring the roar of his team around you, you focus on Lando in front of you. His eyes crinkled under the force of his own happiness, shining bright even under the dark cover of the helmet. He lowers you down, arms wrapped firmly around your waist until your feet are planted safe on the floor. 
You watch as he unclasps the straps under his chin and rips the helmet off, his neck support following in haste. His eyes are still locked onto yours, unshed tears gleaming along his lash line. Through the balaclava, you can see his smile, warm and golden in the Miami sun. 
The balaclava comes off next and your heart stutters at the pure, unobstructed view of the man in front of you. Sweat clings to his upper lip, dripping down his thick neck, curls matted to his forehead under the American heat. You’re drawn back to his eyes, green as a hidden forest, full of glimpses of golden hour through the branches. You loved how you could always tell how he felt through his eyes, forever abundant with emotion. 
Hands wrap back around your waist, dragging you into him as he presses his lips unwaveringly against your own. It’s a little gross, the feeling of sweat transferring to your own lips, the damp curls at the bottom of his neck where your hands come to lie but you wouldn’t change it for the world. It’s worth it to feel his smile against your own, the kiss more teeth than lips and you breathe in the way he laughs against your mouth, molten gold dripping from his lips to yours. 
The two of you part slightly, cheeks aching at the way you’re still grinning. The kiss remains unspoken, Lando being dragged off by his team for interviews. You look at Zak who winks knowingly at you. This time, you let the blush rise, overtaking your cheeks and flushing down your neck. 
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
Waiting for Lando in his driver's room seemed to never end. It had been an hour since you’d finally kissed him and your lips still tingle with the feeling. 
Your mind was a jumbled mess, thought after thought fighting to sit at the front of your mind. Tracing your finger across your lips, you allow yourself to remember that moment. To fall headfirst into how it felt to finally feel what it was like to kiss Lando. 
The sound of the driver’s room door banging against the wall shakes you out of your stupor, twirling around to face a sheepish Lando. 
“Um, sorry… I guess I was just eager to get back here.” He giggles softly, standing still in the threshold. 
Smiling back at him, you gesture him inwards, scoffing at the absurdity of you inviting him into his own driver’s room. He stumbles in, shutting the door behind him. One hand reaches out to run over the scuff mark on the wall, grimacing as he traces the black mark. 
He turns to face you, smile beaming as you stand two feet apart, eyes tracing over each other as you bask in the long awaited silence. You watch as his hand reaches out, the back of his fingers brushing against yours. The hand reaches around, clasping yours gently in his. You squeeze once, smiling shyly up at him. 
“Can I tell you something?” His voice is quiet, almost shaky as he keeps his eyes trained on your conjoined hands. 
You squeeze his hand again, humming your assent. 
“I love you. I’ve loved you since we were 15 years old and I saw you sitting on those moon chairs. I remember my heart was beating so, so fast and I thought it was just post race adrenaline but when I remember your shy smile and the braids you had in your hair and my heart feels the exact same way. It’s always been you.”
Even after the kiss, the admission makes your heart race wildly. He loves you. He loves you back. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was scared. Scared that you wouldn’t love me the same way I love you.” He tries to come off nonchalant, but the way his hand trembles in yours betrays his true emotions. 
Rubbing your thumb over the back of his shaking hand, heart thumping erratically at both the situation and the sweetness of his nervous confession. “Lan, I was literally a 15 year old racing nerd and you were a boy willingly talking to me. Why do you think I was a nervous mess when you spoke to me? I had the biggest crush on you.”
“Having a crush and loving someone is different.” He leads you by your intertwined hands to the sofa, settling back into the corner as you sit close enough to keep your hands connected. “Back then, you knew me as Lando Norris, F4 driver, and then just Lando, your best friend who secretly stuffs his face with pizza and falls over his own feet more often than not.” He huffs out a laugh at the memory of the last time he’d tripped over thin air and fallen flat on his face when you’d gone to visit him in Monaco. 
Avoiding eye contact, he keeps his eyes trained on the way your fingers interlock almost perfectly. “I was worried you wouldn’t love me when we became close.” 
“You idiot,” using your free hand, you smack him lightly on the arm, giggling at the fact the two of you had been mutually pining for years, “that just made me love you more. Sure, I was 16 and the idea of dating a race car driver, even little Lando Norris,” his arm reaches out to return the smack, “was a dream, but then I wanted to date just Lando, the man who gives me piggybacks from clubs when my feet hurt and bites my arm when I’m not paying attention. I love you, just plain old Lando Norris.”
If you thought his smile when winning was bright, the one he shoots you now is almost overwhelming. Face pulled up so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if he complained of an ache in his cheeks later, eyes crinkling deeply at the corners and shining a bright seafoam green. 
Before you can return the grin, he reaches up and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. The passion is the same but different, no longer adrenaline filled from a race win, but full of love and adoration and the secret he never thought he’d get the chance to say. 
He pulls back just enough for a whisper of air to pass between the two of you, eyes warm and locked onto yours. “I love you. So much. It’s me and you, plain old Lando and plain old Y/N.” 
You push him lightly, grinning playfully. “Who are you calling plain?”
He rectifies his mistake with another kiss, this one softer and slower, the two of you taking the time to appreciate that this moment had finally come. The kiss moves to the corner of your lips, across your cheek and down to the spot just below your ear. 
A hand wraps around your waist, securing you to your spot. Pulling back slightly, you look down at the smiling man resting his head on your shoulder. “So, I love you, and you love me. What next?”
“We go celebrate this momentous occasion, and the race win, and then I take you out for our first proper date.” Tightening his hold on you, he moves his head to rest in the juncture between your neck and shoulder, dropping warm kisses to the skin beneath his mouth. 
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a/n: 3 of my top 5 boys on the canada podium is so 💞💖🩷💓💗💝💖💗💕💗💘💞 also as an esteban ult, it's on site for alpine fr. ALSO GOTE pt 3 coming soon ❤️
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pelova4president · 2 days
Text
Sneak me in
Alessia Russo x Williamson!Reader
summary~ Sneaking around on an away match doesn’t go to plan. It’s hard to sneak around with your curious older sister and teammates around.
!warnings! not proof read, suggestive
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You’ve been sneaking around for way too long now. It was time your secret got out, just not now. But would there ever be a good moment.
You started sneaking around with Alessia before she even joined Arsenal. You’ve always thought she was cute, beautiful even. The two of you were in the younger age groups together for the Lionesses but never really acknowledged each other. Well, you very much acknowledge her but never dared to make a move. So when Alessia went through to the seniors you were a tiny bit devastated.
So on games against United you needed to show off. You just couldn’t let Alessia score. And after every game against her you would shake her hand and mumble ‘good game’.
It was very obvious to Alessia that if she wanted something with you she needed to take matters into her own hands.
So she made the first move. On an away game against the Red Devils she chased you down the tunnel.
“Williamson! Williamson..” no answer.
“Little Williamson, wait!” she yelled in the hopes to stop you.
And as suspected you turned around. You saw the blonde run towards you like she hadn’t just played 90 minutes.
“Uhh hi Alessia..” you awkwardly said as the striker came to a stop. Alessia giggled at that.
“Hi, i want to take you out to dinner tonight. I know the best places in Manchester, so you wanna go?” Alessia asked bluntly.
You had to admire that she was so straight forward. And it would be a lie is you said you didn’t want to go on a date with her.
“Like as a date?” you asked her with a small smile.
“Whatever you want it to be.” Alessia laughed at your reddening cheeks.
You nodded your head, “Yeah, i’ll have dinner with you.”
“Okay, that’s a date. I’ll pick you up around seven.”
Things went fast from that moment on. There were many more dates after your first one. During your seventh date Alessia finally asked you to be her girlfriend and who were you to reject the gorgeous blonde.
The next step in your relationship was moving in with each other, or Alessia moving to your club. Your girlfriend knew you weren’t going to any other club than Arsenal so she made the move.
At first she tried to keep it a secret but when she visited you in London and you walked through your local park with three of your teammate’s dogs she couldn’t resist to make a little remark.
“I can’t wait to walk these monster with you every day next season. We might have to get a dog ourselves.” Alessia smiled giving your hand a squeeze.
“I wish we could but you live in Manchester I can’t give a dog everything they deserve on my own. Wish you were here everyday with me.” you sighed giving her hand a small kiss.
“Lucky you, i’ll be there too to take care of our dog then. In a few months we’ll be able to walk here everyday and i don’t even have to change kit colours.” Alessia laughed, hoping you’d catch on.
“Wait what? You’re moving to London, to Arsenal? Are you serious? Lessi please tell me you’re dead serious.” your mouth fell open, this couldn’t be right.
“Yep, i’m a gunner now.” Alessia’s bright smile was what made you believe her.
On paper it seemed like the perfect life but you still hadn’t told any of your teammates or anyone really about your relationship with the former United striker. Alessia couldn’t move in with you either since that would give everything away but being next door neighbours didn’t seem so bad either.
You each had your separate space but most night you ended up in the each others bed.
It started to get harder to hide when your teammates started coming over more. At first no one noticed anything.
It wasn’t until Vic Pelova, your best friend at the club, noticed a dark green hoodie resting on your couch. It had been Alessia’s until you decided it was your favourite and you should just steal her hoodie.
“Isn’t that Alessia’s?” Vic asked you puzzled at why she would leave her stuff at yours.
“Uh yeah, she just forgot it. I’ll probably drop it off later.” You told the brunette.
Those little incidents started to happen more and more and it got harder for you to come up with excuses. Luckily your sister didn’t catch on.
But when the team had a Champions League game in Paris and you weren’t roomed up with Alessia it got tricky. Obviously you wanted some more time with her but that would be hard since she was going to room with Lotte.
Alessia wouldn’t let that slide though, she’d think of something.
When you were all seated into the coach that would drive you to your hotel Alessia had an idea.
“Sooo you know how we aren’t rooming together. I’ve got a little plan to change that. When we are chilling in the main room i’ll go my room. Later on you will tell everyone you’re feeling a bit off and go to your room, but you realise you forgot your keycard. Then you knock on my door and i open it. I’ll just text Lotte that she has to room with Vic, she wouldn’t mind.” Alessia grins proudly.
“Wow, you thought of that all by yourself huh? So like would it be wrong just to ask if we could switch?” you asked her. “I mean, i’m not trying to turn your amazing plan down but you know, it’s easier.”
“Well, i already thought of that but it’s not gonna work. They would probably get suspicious of why we would wanna room with each other and not them.” your girlfriend explained.
“Hmm, so smart.” you complimented the blonde with a little kiss to her cheek.
So you did what you were told. Alessia said goodnight to everyone and now it was your turn. You grumbled a bit and moved in your sister’s arms.
“What’s got you so squirmy?” Your older sister asked you. Her eyes were furrowed and you could see she was a little annoyed with you.
“I don’t know, i feel a bit off.” you sighed as you waited a minute. “Maybe it’s better if i just go to bed early.”
You bid everyone goodnight before heading to your girlfriends room.
Alessia opened the door with a big grin on her face. “Hi baby, missed you.” she kissed you and pulled you inside.
“Hey Lessi” you pushed her on the bed and started kissing her neck.
“Wait baby, i still have to text Lotte.” she protested with a laugh.
“You can do that while we’re kissing babe.” you whined.
After Alessia had texted Lotte she started kissing you back. She was rough and left hickeys wherever she could.
“All mine hmm, you’re all mine baby.” you could feel her smile against your reddening neck.
You woke up to banging on your door. It was past 9 am and you promised to be at breakfast by 8. When you went to check your phone you were left searching, you had forgotten it in your original room.
When the banging didn’t stop you woke Alessia up who couldn’t seem to wake up.
“Babe. Lessi baby, they’re at the door. They’re literally gonna kick our door in if we don’t answer.” you shook her sleeping body.
Your sleepy girlfriend finally woke up in a disoriented state.
“What’re you talking about baby?” she grumbled into her pillow.
“Just.. just don’t move okay.” you ordered the messy blonde.
Opening the door you were met with the very irritated and serious face of your older sister and Beth by her side.
“Hi very smart sweet older sister, what can i do for you?” you asked her with one of the sweetest smile you’ve ever given her. You just hoped she would disappear and you could get ready.
“Oh shut it. You’re fucking late and where is Alessia, she wasn’t at breakfast either.” Leah questioned you.
“Don’t know, now let me get ready.” you told her before slamming the door shut.
“Alessia Mia Teresa fucking Russo, if you don’t get up right fucking now.” you threatened the half asleep woman in your bed.
The striker shot up and sprinted to the bathroom to get ready. As you walked in you saw her brushing her teeth.
“God, i don’t know how we’re gonna get away with this. Look babe, if you act like you were eating out and i pretend i slept through my alarm everything’s okay.” you said more to yourself than to Alessia.
“Well i did eat out, so it isn’t a complete lie.” your girlfriend giggled to herself. You shot her a daring look at which she held her hands up at.
Separating at Alessia’s hotel room door you went down to the girls while the blonde headed outside.
“Good morning everyone!” you greeted the girl’s in the room.
“Someone’s in a good mood huh?” Kyra laughed at your rather amazing morning mood.
“Yeah, i got a good night sleep, you should try it too.” you told her with a grin.
You were walking towards the coffee when Caitlin stopped you. Looking you up and down a grin formed on her face. “Looks like a you didn’t have a good night’s sleep but just a good fuck.”
Caitlin pointed to your neck. Apparently everyone wanted to see what she was talking about and a group of girl gathered around you.
“W-what?” you swatted the prying hands away.
“Your neck is literally purple and blue dude!” Vic commented.
“Jesus, you must be dating some kind of vampire” Katie McCabe herself yelled.
Leah wanted to see it for herself and pushed everyone away to inspect your neck. You tried to cover it up but it was too late. Leah was pinching you as if she couldn’t see it good enough.
“Who’s sleeping with my little sister! I know it’s someone from the team. Confess or i’ll make someone confess in a not so nice way.” Leah scanned the room full of football in the hopes she could see right through them.
“Leah, it’s not really any of your-“ as you tried to speak you sister broke you off.
“It really is though. I’m literally the vice captain of this team and overall your fucking older sister kid.” Leah told you off.
And just as you were about to go in against Leah your lover appeared. Alessia walked into the room with two coffees in her hand and a half eaten bagel. And that’s when you heard Lotte gasp.
“No way.” she said, one hand covering her open mouth.
Victoria nudged the defender in the hopes to hear her thoughts. “I switched rooms with little Williamson.” Lotte whispered to Vic.
Obviously Pelova couldn’t keep it to herself and gasped ten times louder. “No fucking way! Little Williamson is sleeping with Russo.” the midfielder almost yelled through the room.
Leah turned her head, her eyes capturing the other blonde in the door opening. “Who is that coffee for Russo?” your sister asked her.
“Uhm, your sister.” Alessia answered her, uncertain of what she should’ve told her.
“You’re sleeping with my little sister, Russo i’m gonna kill you.” Leah told her before turning to you. “And you after.”
alessia
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liked by stanwaygeorgia and 114.218 others
the little williamson is my main one
comments
ellatoone cheeky girls 😍
katie_mccabe11 vampire and her victim
↳ alessia she’s not the victim!!
leahwilliamsonn sneaky bitches
↳ leahwilliamsonn you better take care of her tho
↳ leahwilliamsonn or i’ll kill you
↳ alessia mood swings much, but i’ll never hurt little williamson, only the big one
y/nwilliamson love love love you 🤧
↳ alessia love you baby
arsenaall23 love them so fucking much
englioness3s the IT couple fr
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wsoc-gay · 21 hours
Text
Hurt
Leah Williamson x Reader
Summary: You're a sergeant in the British Army and after breaking some promises it begins to effect yours and Leah's marriage, risking your relationship with your daughter.
A/N: I dont love how the ending of this came out, but nonetheless 10k words of angst with a hint of fluff. As always put your requests in my asks!
Based on this request
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You were ten years old when you met Leah for the first time. She was a thin, tall girl, with sandy blonde hair, and a fringe blowing in her eyes. You were trialing with the Arsenal Academy, having just moved to London. Leah had already been an established player on the team, having played for a few years, but they encouraged all their current players to attend the trial. The first thing she noticed about you was the goalkeeper gloves covering your hands, not many girls your age were willing to play keeper, not to mention enjoyed it. Leah certainly didn’t fancy herself a time in net, frankly she would do anything to avoid going in, she thought you were weird for liking it. The next thing she noticed was that you were taller than her, at that age Leah was always the tallest on the team, she thought it was weird you were so tall.
After a few practices, Leah started to pick up on how fiercely competitive you were, similar to how she was. Most of the girls on your team didn’t care about winning in training and would rather have a good time with their mates, but Leah could see the look in your eye, the way you clenched your jaw, and how you would rapidly open and close your hands after each shot that slipped past you, being trapped by the netting behind you. She liked that about you, how badly you wanted to win at everything you did, this shared passion for winning is what first sparked your friendship.
You weren’t used to having friends, never staying in one place for long enough to make any. Your dad was a captain in the British Army, meaning by your young age you had already lived in more countries than you could remember. This move was different though, you knew you weren’t going to be packing up soon and leaving, this time was for good. This time was for good because your dad was no longer in the Army, he wasn’t even your dad anymore, he was killed on a random Tuesday, in a country you couldn’t pronounce, on what he promised was his last deployment.
It was after dinner time when two men, dressed in the suit your dad wore when he married your mom, knocked on your door. You parents taught you never to open the door for strangers, but when you looked out the window and saw the men in uniforms you assumed they were friends with your dad.
You opened the door and looked up at the tall men, “My daddy isn’t home right now, he’s on a work trip,” they always called his deployments ‘work trips’, your parents didn’t want you to know the seriousness of what he was doing so they settled on calling his deployments his work trips.
The man on the right had a soft smile as he bent down to your level, “We’re actually here to talk with your mum, is she here?”
You nodded your head quickly and turned to go get her. As soon as you turned around you saw her standing in the doorway, a horrified expression on her face. You weren’t sure why she looked so scared it was just your dad’s friends. She knew what they were there for, the horrifying reality of many military spouses and family members. This was something she had nightmares about since he started deploying. A repeating nightmare of men coming to her door to tell her the love of her life was dead.
“Go to your room sweetie,” your mom told you breathlessly.
You gave her a confused look, but before you could ask why she sternly repeated herself. You ran up the stairs, knowing she really meant it, but you didn’t go to your room, you sat hiding behind the wall at the top of the stairs. You tried listening to what the men were saying, but you didn’t hear anything until the gut wrenching sobs that escaped your mom.
You ran down the steps and attached yourself to your mom’s side, not knowing why she was so sad, but knowing she needed you. She pulled you into a tight hug and continued to sob into you. 
Later that night when her sobs softened, she pulled you onto the couch and told you what the men had told her, that your dad died. You tried your best to stay strong for your mom, but you couldn’t help the sobs that wrecked your small body.
It had been a few months since you saw your dad, but after you found out about his passing the only thing you could remember was the last thing he told you, “Look after your mom for me, she gets sad when I’m gone. I’m always proud of you baby.”
Your dad told you to look after your mom and that is exactly what you did. You held her while she cried after work, this happened every night for months. And after you held her, she would send you to bed and there you could cry. You never let your mom see you upset, you thought it would make everything harder for her, so you cried to yourself at night.
For a long time, you were sad, your dad was your hero, you always wanted to be just like him. Leah helped when you were sad, it made you feel better and distracted you from thinking about your dad when the two of you hung out. You and Leah lived in different neighborhoods and when to different primary schools when you were young, but every day you would get off at her bus stop and walk over to her house. Your mom was a nurse, she worked long days in the hospital, oftentimes not getting home until after you had already finished training. 
So, saying you hung out with Leah a lot was an understatement, you’d go to her house after school, drive together to training, then go back to her house and wait for your mom came to get you. You didn’t see you mom much, but whenever you did, she was not in a good mood, either about to go into or just come off a long shift. She was always angry when she’d pick you up from Leah’s. She was angry until you got home, she took a seat on your couch with her special drink, and eventually fall asleep. Before you went to bed you’d turn the tv off and cover her in a blanket.
You loved your mom and knew everything she was doing was for you, but you couldn’t help but miss your dad. You would never dare tell you mom about how much you missed him, remembering back to the last time you did and being met with a slap across your face that kept your cheek red for nearly three days. You told her how sad you were and how much you missed him, and she started yelling about how she missed him more than you and that you would never understand how much she missed him. The alcohol was clear on her breath, but you didn’t notice at that age.
The next day you told Leah and her mom that you had tripped in the garden, Leah believed you, but even though her mom wasn’t so sure she let you on your way, making sure to keep an extra close eye on your mood the next few days. It was hard to tell if anything was different with you, since you got to London you had become much better at hiding your feelings. You wanted to look after your mom so you wouldn’t let her see you sad. You also didn’t want to talk about your feelings, so you hid it from everyone. You got horribly used to keeping your feelings to yourself, so you would just bottle them up, hoping no one would notice. Your dad was a strong man, you never saw him cry and you wanted to be just like him, so no one would see you cry.
Even as you got older and didn’t need to spend as much time at Leah’s, now being old enough to stay home alone, you still found yourself taking the bus to Leah’s neighborhood and spending afternoons before training there. Oddly enough the older you got the earlier your mom was getting out of work, you’d arrive home from training to see her passed out on the couch, with a bottle of whatever her alcohol of choice was that day on the table beside her.
You would put your stuff away in your room before cooking dinner, eating your serving, plating your mother’s to put on the table aside her for whenever she woke up, and then would go to your room for the night. You didn’t like to hang around for when your mother woke up, whenever you were there, she would find something to yell at you about. Nothing you could do would be good enough for her and then she’d drag your dad into it, telling you how you would never make him proud. Having heard her say that to you since the day he died you decided you’d join the army as soon as you were of age, you know that would make him proud. 
You were fifteen when you were drunk at a party and kissed Leah. You had been harboring feelings for her for a few years at that point. When you were younger you weren’t sure what those feelings were, having never had many friends you assumed you just liked her as a friend. As you got older, and people started dating you realized that you were falling for the blonde girl. It was easy to hide for a while, you both always hung out and you were able to hide those feelings like you did with any other feeling.
However, that night under the influence of a bit of alcohol you couldn’t hold in those feelings anymore. When you kissed her, she was shocked for a moment, but quickly kissed you back. She had been feeling the same way for a while but didn’t think you saw her that way. You started dating a week later and had been together ever since.
You were in the stands when Leah made her debut for the full team at 17 and she was there for you the day you graduated your final phase of training at 18. Leah wasn’t necessarily overjoyed at the prospect of you joining the Army, but you had talked about since the day you met, and she was never going to stand in the way of what was your dream. She was going to stand by your side through it as you were doing it for her.
You got married ten years into your relationship, a beautiful ceremony just outside London, surrounded by your friends, co-workers, and families. You were dressed in dressed blues adorned with medals you were oh so proud of as Leah looked astonishing in her elegant white gown. 
You both were 30 when Leah won the World Cup, however, you weren’t there to witness it. Instead of being there to witness history being made you were halfway through a deployment to the Middle East watching the games on the rare occasion you had access to the internet. 
When you arrived home four months later, you and Leah went on holiday to celebrate your homecoming and her world victory. You were sat at a nice dinner to celebrate the last day of a lovely holiday when Leah told you she wanted to have a baby. It was a conversation you had before, both of you knew you wanted kids, but you didn’t want to get pregnant and at the time Leah wasn’t sure if she would be willing to put her career on hold to have a baby. But now, after having completed international football, she decided she was ready to pause her career and fulfil both of your dreams.
It was the perfect time to have a baby, Leah didn’t have any major international tournaments the following year and you had just gotten home from a deployment and likely wouldn’t be sent away for at least a few more years. You started the IVF process as soon as you arrived home from holiday and after two rounds were officially expecting a baby girl. Amelia Lily Y/L/N Williamson was born on a sunny September day and was immediately your entire world.
The next time you were deployed was when Amelia was 2 years old, you told her the same thing your mom used to tell you about your father, that you were going on a work trip. 8 months later when you came home Amelia had a rough time adjusting to you being back in the home, clearly affected by your absence.
The fighting with Leah started soon after you came home, it wasn’t every night and was never anything physical, but you and Leah would argue about your career. You were lucky that you hadn’t been stationed outside of England since 24, but the deployments every few years took a toll on your relationship. She had been asking about you leaving the Army since you got married, she wanted you home more, and didn’t want to be having to worry about you possibly dying overseas in the same manner your father did.
It was 2 weeks after you had gotten home, and Amelia still wasn’t quite used to you being there yet. She wouldn’t let you handle bath time alone, wouldn’t let you play with her, and wouldn’t let you put her to bed without Leah there as well.
You were sat on the edge of Amelia’s bed, attempting to read her a story before she went to bed, but she wouldn’t calm down, “I want Mama,” the small girl cried pushing a hand against your chest.
You ran a hand through her blonde hair, “Mama will be here soon, lovie, I’m just going to get started on your story while we wait for her.” 
She clenched her fists and pounded them into her bed, “I don’t want Mummy bedtime story, I want Mama bedtime story,” the small girl cried.
Since you got home you and Leah had tried to give you more one on one time with Amelia, hoping that she would get more used to you being around, but every time you tried it ended this same way. Leah wasn’t busy right now, she was sat on the couch in your living room, hoping to remain there until she heard the story finish. Leah had done the beginning of Amelia’s nighttime routine, her bath, her teeth, getting her dressed, but hoped that she’d allow for you to handle the story.
You sighed and looked to your daughter with pleading eyes, “I’m reading the same story Mama reads you, Mama will be here soon, but we’re just going to read the story,” you held up the book to show her the familiar cover page.
She flipped onto her stomach and dug her head into her pillow crying, “I don’t want you Mummy, I want Mama.”
You sighed, the guilt of seeing your daughter like this after your absence was eating you alive. You knew how hard she took it when Leah left for weekend away trips, but you never expected her to act like this upon your return. You had expected her to be excited to see you home, knowing you both were always close. Ever since she was born, she loved being with you. After Leah would feed her, you would take your daughter to burp and then she’d fall asleep against your chest, one hand gripped to your shirt and cuddled as close to you as possible. She always loved being in your arms, even as she grew your arms were huge around her, she always felt so safe with you, anytime she was upset everything seemed to melt away the second she was in your strong arms.
You sat there rubbing your hands over your face when Amelia began kicking her feet into her mattress, “I want Mama, Mama doesn’t leave me,” now she was screaming.
You sighed rubbing a hand on her back, “I don’t like leaving you sweetie, but I have to for work.”
“Mama leaves on work trips and Mama comes home. You leave for work trips, and you don’t come home,” the small girl continued was sobbing into her pillow.
It broke your heart to hear your little girl like this. From your own experience you remember how hard it was having your father leave on his deployments, but you don’t remember ever getting to the extent that you saw your daughter right now. You were always overjoyed the minute your dad got home, you’d be waiting at the base for him and jumping into his arms as soon as he reached you. You wouldn’t let him out of your sights for weeks after he’d return, too scared that he’d disappear again.
You couldn’t help but feel like you failed her, this little girl and her mom were your whole world and you felt like you failed them both. Here you were sat on the edge of a little bed, staring into small eyes identical to those of the love of your life as she laid in bed sobbing because you were sat next to her.
You sighed and had you head in your hands when suddenly you heard a familiar voice in the doorway, “Mama is here now let’s read your bedtime story.”
Leah walked around to the opposite side of the toddler bed and sat on the edge, one hand rubbing down your daughters back, “Would you like to read your story now?” she asked the toddler.
You and Leah looked at each other confused as you heard a quiet mumbling into the pillow, neither of you sure what she had said, “What was that, lovie? Can you speak up, please?” you softly asked.
She turned her head to face your wife and grabbed her sleeve, “I don’t want Mummy here for story time. Just want Mama.”
Your heart broke all over again as you heard her words, Leah looked to you with tired and heartbroken eyes, before she spoke, “It’s okay sweetie, we can do our usual story time with Mummy.”
Amelia dug her head back into the pillow as she repeatedly shook her head no.
Leah went to speak again, but you cut her off putting your hand up, “It’s okay Le, I’ll go,” you leaned down to place a kiss on your daughter’s head, “I love you, lovie, sleep well,” you stood up and walked out of the room not before looking back from the doorway and seeing Amelia roll over and cuddle into Leah’s side.
The first dew nights you understood that she was upset, and over your calls with Leah, knew it was going to take some getting used to for the 3-year-old. However, you never expected it to drag out this long. She used to love you reading to her before bed, she’d cuddle into your side while Leah read to her, almost always falling asleep in your arms.
You dragged yourself down the halls and into your shared bedroom with Leah. You changed into a pair of shorts and an old, oversized army hoodie. You went into the bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror for a while. Every time you came home from a deployment you looked to have aged about 5 years, you were only 33, but by the dark circles under your eyes, and the stress wrinkles covering your face, people could’ve guessed you were well into your 40s. 
Deployments were always hard, out in the sun all day, working all day, not sleeping well, and being away from Leah. This deployment was a lot worse than the others, not only being away from Leah, but also Amelia took a large not toll on you, and to make it worse it was a rough deployment. Your troop was sent on more missions than you had ever experienced on a deployment before, you were stationed in a high combat area. Multiple soldiers under your command had died in combat and being their sergeant, you took their deaths especially hard. You felt like you were the reason these soldiers weren’t going to return to their families.
Your PTSD was also worse than ever before. You’ve had it since your early deployments, but it never went past a few nightmares, now it wasn’t just at night, you were starting to have panic attacks. They would come without warning, you were at the park with Leah and Amelia yesterday afternoon when a loud scream in the distance sent your mind back to the battlefield, you suddenly were shoving your wife and daughter behind your back, wanting to protect them from whatever caused the screams. Amelia was terrified seeing you like that and it took Leah nearly 20 minutes to calm you down and convince you that they were safe.
You remember when this used to happen to your dad, you didn’t realize what it truly was at the time, but now you understand. It would take you mom a while to calm him down, but you weren’t scared of him when it happened, you knew that he was only ever doing it to protect you. Amelia didn’t see it this way, all she saw was you panicking trying to protect her and Leah. It put Leah in a complicated spot, trying to calm you down while also trying to convince your daughter that you were okay.
Your hands were leaning against the counter and your head hanging low when you felt a hand rubbing your back, you looked up in the mirror to see Leah’s face reflected right behind your shoulder, “She go down alright, once I finally left?”
Leah sighed, “It’s not like that-”
You cut her off before she could continue, “Yes, it is, Leah, our daughter hates me,” you turned away from the counter and walked into your bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Leah followed you into the room sat next to you placing a hand on your thigh, “She doesn’t hate you, y/n, she-”
You sharply cut her off again, “She’s just getting used to it, I know Leah, but I never had to get used to my dad being home, not like this. I was overjoyed when he was home, I wouldn’t let him out of my sight when he came home. He was my best friend, my hero, and I thought that’s how Amelia saw me, but clearly, I was wrong.” 
Leah sighed rubbing circles into your thigh, “I wasn’t going to say that” she sent you a small glare, “So stop interrupting me,” you nodded, “I was going to tell you that she cried almost every night for the first month. She wanted to know where you were, she didn’t understand why you weren’t coming home and I didn’t know what to tell her,” Your wife sighed, “Every away match when she’d come with me, she would be so angry the whole trip, constantly complaining about how she was missing out on her Mummy and Amelia days. She missed you, love, she missed you so much she didn’t know how to handle it. She is mad that you left that’s why she’s taking it so hard.”
You wiped a hand over your face, “Well, what am I supposed to do about that now? She was mad that I left, I get that, but I’m home now and I’m trying, and she hardly lets me see her.”
The blonde defender rubbed her hand over your thigh, “You can try apologizing to her. Tell her that you’re sorry for leaving and that you won’t be leaving like that again.”
“You know I can’t tell her that, Leah. I may not be leaving soon, but eventually I’ll have to leave again.”
“Or you don’t have to leave again?”
You scoffed, “You know I can’t just tell the Army not to deploy me, I’ll have to leave again.”
Leah sighed and looked towards her feet, “I’m trying to say that maybe you should think about stepping away from the Army.”
You laughed, “That’s funny, love, leaving the Army,” You looked towards her and saw the serious look on her face, “You’re not kidding, are you?”
Her blue eyes met yours, “No, I’m not kidding.”
“I’m not leaving the Army, end of story.”
“You’re not even going to talk about it?”
You pushed yourself off the bed and turned to face the England captain, “There’s nothing to talk about, I’m not leaving the Army.”
Leah stood up and walked towards you a stern look and tone in her voice, “Why won’t you talk about it? Do you not care about your relationship with Amelia?”
You took a step back and pointed a finger towards her, “Don’t you dare bring her up. You know this has nothing to do with her.”
“How does it have nothing to do with her? You’re seeing now the consequences your career is having on her,” Your wife started to raise her voice, “This has everything to do with her, you’re destroying your relationship with her.”
You knew she had a point, that your career was affecting your relationship with your daughter. Anyone could tell that you leaving was affecting her, but what you failed to notice was how it also affected Leah. You never thought about how hard it was on her, she was always so excited to hear from you while you were away and celebrated every time you came home, it never crossed your mind how hard you being away was on her.
She noticed your hesitancy to answer, and you saw her seem to draw in on herself, she spoke softly, “And it’s not only affecting your relationship with her,” the blonde defender looked down at her feet.
“What are you trying to say, that my career is affecting us?”
Leah looked at you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Of course it is.”
You looked at her and your expression dropped, “You never mentioned anything.”
Tears began to peak in her eyes, “I didn’t think I had to mention anything. I’ve been worrying about you over the course of your deployments for over ten years,” she wiped a tear as it began to fall, “Everyday you’re there I am absolutely terrified. Every time you reschedule a call because you’re going out, I stay awake for days, unable to sleep because I’m so worried sick over you,” the tears began falling harder, “Every there’s a knock on the door I’m terrified that I’m going to open it to the same thing your mom did when your dad died.”
“Don’t mention my dad to use him against me.”
She gasped, “I’m not using him against you. I’m trying to get you to understand why I think you should leave the military. I’m trying to get you to see it through my eyes, the eyes that are worried sick of her wife, the mother of her child, dying in a sandpit overseas.”
“Have I ever asked you to quit football?” you sharply asked.
Leah’s voice was raised now, “How is this the same as football?”
Your tone matched hers, “You’re gone all day at training and then leave for days at a time, I go on deployment once every few years, Leah.”
She scoffed again, “You’re gone once every few years for nearly a year at a time. And I know while I’m at football you’re not worried about me dying.”
You turned and began to walk out of the room, “I’m not leaving the Army, that’s final.”
Leah yelled out as you reached the doorway, “Please just think about it. Think about how much better our life could be with you at home, think about how this is affecting all of us.”
You nodded before turning and leaving Leah in the middle of your room, tears streaming down her face.
The truth was you thought about it, for about thirty seconds. You knew you weren’t going to leave the Army. While you heard everything Leah had said and hated the way she felt about the situation you knew that you weren’t going to leave the career you had made. The career you were so proud of, the life that you knew your dad would be proud of. 
---
Now, two years later you stood in your kitchen, sobs wrecking from your wife after you just told her you would be deploying again in two weeks’ time. While Leah knew it was a longshot to get you to leave the Army two years ago, she thought that you would think it over and come around before they would get the chance to deploy you again. 
She thought you would think about her, about Amelia, and realize that the right decision was to leave. She hoped that her retirement from football last year would spark something in you, but evidently it didn’t.
The strong former defender looked tiny as she leaned against the counter, her body wrecked by sobs, “Why are you doing this to us?”
Your hands were dug through your hair, “I’m not doing anything to us. This isn’t about our family it is about my career.”
Leah stood up and pushed her two hands against your chest, “This has everything to do with us, you’re leaving us again. I thought that you would finally stand up and choose me and your daughter over the Army, but clearly, I was wrong.”
“I’m not choosing anything over anyone. I’m going to war, to fight, and protect you. I am not choosing the Army over you; I’m choosing the Army for you.”
Leah’s sobs were lessened by her raised voice, “If you were choosing something for me, for us, you would’ve left the Army two years ago when your daughter could hardly look at you for months.”
She was right, it had taken Amelia nearly four months of you being home, to get over the betrayal she felt by your absence. It wrecked you seeing her like that, for so long, but the only thing you had at that time was the Army. Your career never turned its back on you, it celebrated your devotion, and you sacrifice. The only thing that helped you feel better during that time was going to work and knowing you were making a difference.
You lowered your voice, hoping to calm the situation, “I need to do this, love. You know what my career means to me.”
Leah’s expression was still cold, “Don’t call me that while you’re telling me that you’re choosing work over me.”
You slammed your fist against the countertop, “How many times do I need to tell you that I’m not choosing work over you. Nothing is more important to me than my family and the Army.”
Her hands covered her face, “Why is your family at the same level as your job? I would never have chosen football over you and our daughter. I gave up my career for a year just to have her.”
Your expression was stern and portrayed little emotions, “The Army is my family-”
The blonde cut you off, shoving you back again, “Stop saying that me and Amelia mean no more to you than the Army. In no world should your family be at the same level as your job.”
Now you were angry, “This isn’t just my job this is my life, this is my father’s legacy. I am committing myself to the same thing he did. I am living the life that he gave his entire existence to.”
“And do you want to die before you see your daughter turn ten?”
You sucked in a tight breath, “Don’t you dare say that to me.”
She gasped, “That’s the truth. It’s the harsh reality and it is the reason why you need to choose us over your job.”
“I’m not leaving the Army; I’ll be home in nine months and when I get home then, and we have this same conversation my answer will not change,” your cold expression never faltered.
She sighed and spoke the quietest since the beginning of the argument, “Then I’m leaving you.”
Your head whipped towards her, “What did you just say?”
More confidently this time, “I am leaving you and I’m taking Amelia with me. We can’t live like this anymore.”
“We’ve been together for 20 years you can’t just leave me.”
Leah leaned back against the counter, “And for the first 17 years I thought that me and our daughter came first. The last three years you’ve made it painfully obvious that isn’t true and I’m not going to raise my daughter in that environment.”
You crossed your arms, “I love you, Leah, I have for the past 20 years. I love Amelia and I have since the second she was born. You can’t leave me.”
You walked towards where Leah stood and reached to grab her hand. Your wife slipped away from the counter and crossed to the other side of the kitchen, “I know you love us, and you know that I love you too, but we can’t keep coming second to your career.”
“You don’t come second you-”
Leah cut you off, “Were on the same level, I know you’ve been telling me for years. I’m not going to put up with it anymore. Your family is supposed to come first and clearly, you’re not capable of that, so I’m done. You can try and fight it if you want, but I want to handle this between us. You know what is best for Amelia, you know that she is better off with me,” you just looked at her, unable to speak, “I’m going to pick her up from school, I hope you’re gone when I get back.”
“You’re not even going to let me say goodbye?”
Leah knew this meant that you agreed to her terms, you would give her full custody of your daughter. As much as it hurt, you knew that Leah was right. She would be able to give her the better life, Amelia would miss you for the first few months, but just like your last deployment, she would get over it and she would settle into her new life.
“You’re right, but you’re not staying here tonight. You can say goodbye during bedtime, but I want you gone before I go to bed.”
With that Leah walked out of your shared home, the home you had lived in for the last 8 years. You walked to your bedroom, the bedroom that held so many fond memories. In that room Leah told you that she was ready to have a baby, you did all the IVF shots there, you read the test confirming Leah’s pregnancy, felt Amelia move for the first time, spoke to your baby girl, held your daughter while she screamed during the night, and so many more. 
Now here you stood, staring into your closet deciding what you wanted to take with you as you moved out of your beloved home. Moved out of this home by yourself, leaving your daughter and wife, soon to be ex-wife, behind.
There were a lot of tears that night as you said goodnight to your daughter. You had tears in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks as you knew it would be the last time you would see her for a long while. Tears were also streaming down her face as she cried for Leah, you had told her you would be deploying again, and she did not take it well. Once you told her she immediately shut down and wanted her Mama there, the woman who never left her behind.
She didn’t understand what this goodbye meant, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her. You promised your blonde daughter that you loved her and that you’d always protect her even if you were halfway across the world. So, you left that night under the gauge that you were deploying, not telling her that you would be gone for much longer than that now.
---
It was six months later when you found yourself waking up under the bright, blinding lights of a hospital room. You weren’t sure where you were or what was happening as your breathing increased and you slowly began to panic. Sitting up quickly and searching the room for a sign of where you were.
The room was silent besides the sound of your labored breathings and subtle beeps from the machines on your bedside. It was a small room, but if anything was clear from the number of machines whirring beside you, it was that whatever you were here for was serious.
The white walls and lights lit up the room fully, but they were accompanied by the sun shining in from the large windows. It looked as every other hospital you had visited; the room your mom was brought to when she cut her hand open while drinking in your teenage years, the room Leah was in after her ACL tear, the room Amelia was born in, and the room you visited injured soldiers in. 
Even though you didn’t know what brought you here, every hospital room granted the same feeling, fear, doubt, shock. Your entire body was in an achy pain, moving ever so slightly caused pain to radiate through your entire body. Even just the lights sent pain searing through your head.
The door was opened, and a female doctor rushed to your bedside, “Calm down, Sergeant, you’re okay, you’re safe.”
You gave her a confused look with wide eyes, “Where am I?” you croaked out, your voice scratchy.
“You’re in the hospital, you were injured in the field a week ago. You have been in a coma since.”
Your eyes widened, you had no memory of an injury, “What happened?”
You were five months into your deployment when you were informed of your next base move. Your unit was being sent to a different base, nearly four hours away, in a much more dangerous area. The British squad there was slowly being overpowered by the enemy and they needed more British soldiers there to defend.
This deployment had been noticeable easier than your previous one. You had been stationed in a much safer area than last time and rarely had to go out on missions. You were stationed far away from any enemy camps and hardly came across anyone in your day-to-day. Your squad was only sent on missions when a British troop was in danger.
You hadn’t lost anyone in your squad, but this seemed a bit too good to be true. You hadn’t been on the front lines often, but when you were it was highly dangerous. It was a near miracle that none of your soldiers had lost their lives.
Now you found yourself in the passenger seat of your Foxhound, your right-hand man for this deployment in the driver’s seat beside you. You were about two hours into the drive when the unimaginable happened.
You were driving along a dirt road, the same you had been on for the whole journey, and nearly identical to ever other road in this area. There were no buildings around, no people, and no vehicles other than your unit’s. All of a sudden you hit a bump, for the second you recognized it as a rock in the road, but then suddenly your truck was being blown through the air and flipping over itself. 
The IED blew the back of your truck tumbling over the front. The flip crushed the and folded in the hood, trapping your left leg in the damage. The other vehicles in your unit weren’t damaged and the other soldiers came running to the aide of you and your partner. You were unconscious the minute the roof of the truck hit the ground, and as your men reached you, they quickly realized you were stuck in the damage. 
They were able to get the other man out, his injuries seemed minor compared to yours. You had severe injuries that even your soldiers could assume were nearly deadly. The aide unit reached you an hour later, your soldier sat by your side protecting the vehicle incase any insurgents heard the explosion. The rescue team was able to get you out of the damage in due time, but at the cost of your left leg. They treated you at a nearby aide station until you were stable enough to be transferred to a hospital. 
This was a week ago, now you laid in your hospital bed, finally waking from the medically induced coma the doctors had placed you in due to the traumatic brain injury you suffered. As the doctor explained your injuries, losing your leg, broken ribs, cracked skull, TBI, shattered wrist, and many internal injuries, you zoned out not truly believing the words falling from the doctor’s mouth. You lifted the blanket covering your legs and looked down to see your missing extremity, it was almost as if you didn’t believe what the doctor was saying.
Your breathing was still fast, but it was beginning to regulate as you realized what was happening. All you were thinking about now was how much you wished someone was by your side, but you knew that wasn’t happening. This was the life you had chosen for yourself, a life alone, a life with the Army as your family, the life you chose over your real family. You knew that Leah wasn’t there for you and wasn’t coming to you.
The doctor interrupted your thoughts when she spoke, “Sergeant, we will be transferring you to London shortly. You’ll be remaining there until their doctors declare you healthy enough to return home. You’ll be heavily sedated for the trip, otherwise due to your injuries you would be in unimaginable pain.” 
You simply nodded your head, not knowing how to respond to the doctor’s words. As they began to prepare you for transfer your head was empty. The only thing you were sure of at the moment was the pain radiating through your body. There wasn’t much running through your head, you weren’t sure what to think of the situation. And as they put you under the sedation the only thing you were thinking of was about was what would happen once you were back in London, where you would go.
You woke up a few hours later, lying flat in a new hospital bed, looking up at a ceiling nearly identical to the one you were in hours earlier. The same bright lights, white ceiling, whirring of medical devices on your bedside. You heard quiet talking in the distance when you leaned up on your elbows and saw a man in a white coat standing in the doorway speaking to someone that was blocked by the wall.
You watched for a moment, they hadn’t noticed you were awake, and then turned to look around the room. You spotted a bag which you could never forget sitting on the couch to your right, Leah was here.
Wincing as you moved up the bed, now leaning against the bed frame. The doctor turned to look into the room, clearly having heard your pained noise.  Once he saw you awake and sitting up, he walked in, Leah following behind, “Nice to see you awake Sergeant, I hope the flight over was smooth.”
You smirked, “Wouldn’t be able to tell you if it wasn’t,” you looked past the doctor to see Leah hesitantly standing next to the doorway, leaning against the wall.
 “I’m just going to do a few quick checks on you and then I’ll leave you to get some rest.”
The doctor came to your bedside and took notes in your chart with some of the information on the many devices connected to your body. As he did some hands-on checks you couldn’t stop staring right past him and at the English defender standing in the back. You weren’t sure why she was here; you had changed your emergency contact right before you left on deployment, fearing this exact situation. You knew where you stood with Leah and didn’t want her to be called in if something like this were to happen.
The doctor finished her checks and confirmed that everything looked good in relation to your current state. He looked to Leah as he announced you’d likely be staying in the hospital for about a week, they needed to keep a close eye on your recovery.
The doctor left the room after mentioning he’d be back soon to check on you once again. Leah thanked the doctor and looked over toward you, there was a silence for a minute neither of you quite knowing what to say, but you broke it, “You don’t have to be here, Leah.”
The blonde slowly approached your bed, “Don’t even try telling me to leave.”
“I’m sorry they called you, I’m not sure why they did. I changed my mom to my emergency contact; I don’t know why they-”
Leah cut you off as she sat on the edge of your hospital bed, “They didn’t call me,” you gave her a confused look, “Your mom called me. Why’d you put her down?”
You had a strained relationship with your mom since you moved out of the house. She tormented you after your father died, always drunk and always angry. It was when you enlisted that she really hated you, she didn’t understand why you would put yourself into the same situation that killed your dad. At the time you didn’t understand her anger, you thought what you were doing was honorable, was something to be proud of. What you knew now, from being with Leah, was that she was simply terrified, just like Leah was. You moved out after you enlisted and after the argument that followed. 
You and her had some contact, mostly through her expenses and medical care. As much as Leah hated it, you were always there for your mother whenever she called. And while it was never personal and you never introduced her to your daughter, you always took care of whatever she needed. She’d call you for money, you received all her bills, you took care of everything because even with how horribly she treated you, there was always that part of you who understood her. You understood the spiral she had after your father’s passing and he told you to take care of her, and you would never disobey one of his orders. Her drinking was something you delt with from the moment your dad passed. What you didn’t notice as a kid, was that she wasn’t attending work. When you were at school and Leah’s hour assuming she was working in the hospital, she really was at home drinking. The alcohol has taken its toll on her body and her health was now steadily declining.
Leah, obviously, knew all of this having been there for you through it all. Which is why she was so confused to find out that you had her placed in the spot your ex-wife once held.
You looked down in your lap, “Well, I needed to take you off it and I didn’t know who else to put. I filled it out assuming it wouldn’t have to be used, but here we are.”
She let out a soft chuckle, “Well here we are, Y/N.”
You met her eyes, staring into the blue, “What’d she say when she called you?”
Leah sighed, “I don’t think that’s important.”
Your expression grew more serious, “Yes, it is, please tell me.”
The blonde sighed and looked to the ceiling, “She was clearly drunk when she called, it was after you had arrived here, so I’m not really sure what she thought when she got the first call you were hurt, but she didn’t call me then,” Leah took your, uninjured, hand in hers, “She told me that you were here, but that she didn’t remember what the doctor told her about what happened or how you were, so I was half-expecting to show up here and you be in even worse shape. She said that this was your own fault, and that you did this to yourself by choosing to be in the Army. Then she told me it was my fault for not convincing you to leave sooner, started blaming me for killing you,”
You squeezed her hand, “This isn’t your fault, you tried to get me to leave. This was my own fault.”
She sighed, “I know, and I told her I tried to get you to leave, but she just kept saying that this was the same thing that happened with your dad. That he didn’t love her or you enough to leave and it killed him.”
“She has always said I’m just like him, but you know this isn’t your fault. You know I love you and Amelia more than anything.”
Leah’s eyes met yours, “I know you do; I was so scared when she called, I thought you were dead.”
“I might be better off dead at this point,” the defender slapped your thigh, “I lost my leg Leah I can’t be a soldier anymore. I lost you and Amelia when I decided to stay in, and now I’ve lost the career I risked everything for.”
“I’m going to help you get through it, don’t worry.”
You sighed, “You don’t have to do that Leah, I know how you feel about me.”
“I’m going to help you; I’m not just throwing you to the curb.”
You leaned your head against the pillow, “I know I fucked up; I don’t expect you to forgive me and help me just because I got hurt. I’ll figure it out.”
“You don’t have to, I’m taking you home once they let you out of here,” she looked towards the foot of the bed, “I’m helping you get through this, we’ll work through it together.”
“What about Amelia? Won’t it confuse her?”
Leah sighed and spoke softly, “I never told her we split.”
You gave her a confused look, “You didn’t tell her?”
She had a serious look on her face, “No, I didn’t,” the confused look was still plastered across your face, “I might’ve regretted it after it really sunk in.”
Suddenly you felt a jolt of optimism deep in your stomach, you might not have really lost her, “What do you mean?”
Tears started to prick in her eyes, “I was just so terrified of losing you. The last deployment was so difficult on all of us, and I just didn’t think I could go through it again,” you reached to hold the blonde’s hand, “After you said you’d think about leaving I just thought that seeing how it had affected Amelia would convince you to leave, so part of me spent those years just expecting you to leave. When you came home and said you’d be going back I couldn’t handle it.”
You sighed, “I’m sorry, Le.”
“I just was so terrified that I would lose you and had convinced myself you couldn’t come out of every deployment healthy and that eventually it would catch up to you.”
You smirked, “Are saying you jinxed me?” Leah shot you a glare, “Sorry, sorry just trying to lighten the mood.”
The captain let a small smile cross her face, “You always are trying to lighten the mood.”
“You’re always too serious,” you countered.
“We even each other out.”
“Yes, we do.”
You spent the next week in hospital, Leah would come every day to visit for a few hours while Amelia was in school. You had asked her not to bring your daughter to see you, you didn’t want her to see you in the state you were in. You and Leah were slowly amending things, you knew it would be a long journey for the two of you, but you were taking the proper steps there. You spent the time in the hospital talking any things through, it seemed like the first time in a while you both had a proper conversation about what was going on in your heads. Leah told you her fears and you expressed why you were so desperate to stay in.
It was a week after arriving at the London hospital when you were crutching your way into your home. Leah had opened your car door for you and was rushing around you to grab the front door as well, she truly was a miracle worker for you. You had gone home during schooltime which was best, it gave you a few hours to settle back in before Amelia returned home. Leah had told her about everything going on so that the young girl wasn’t startled to see you, but you knew she wouldn’t understand completely until she saw you, and frankly you and Leah didn’t yet know how she’d react to seeing you.
You laid on the couch for the next few hours your foot and new stump were laid on the couch next to you while Leah seemed to be running at one hundred miles a minute trying to make sure you had everything. 
You looked over the back of the couch to Leah in the kitchen, “Would you come sit down Le? I’ve got everything I need I promise.” 
She continued her rummaging through the cabinets, “I’m just trying to fix you a snack I don’t want you to worry about anything.”
“I’m not hungry and the only thing I’m worried about right now is your heart rate,” you could hear Leah laugh from the kitchen, “I’m serious, love, come sit with me and relax.”
You leaned up as the defender approached the couch, sliding into where your head used to be and then relaxing you to lay in her lap, “How are you feeling? Do you need ice?”
“The same as the last twenty times in the past half hour, I’m fine, Leah.”
She ran her fingers through your hair, “I just worry about you, this is a big change and I want to make everything go as smoothly as possible for you.”
You smiled, “I appreciate it, seriously, but I am as okay as I can be right now. You’re being perfect I promise.”
“Just think of it as me repaying you for taking care of me while I was pregnant.”
You scoffed, “Oh, I was not this insufferable when I was taking care of you.”
This sent Leah into a spiral of explaining everything you used to do for her that annoyed her. Her rant lasted many minutes as it seemed like she had been waiting to tell you this ever since. The blonde went on and on explaining everything you used to do and how you hovered which only got worse overtime.
A few minutes into her rant you noticed the time, “Oh shit, don’t you need to go pick up Amelia? When’s school end?”
“I’m not leaving, my mum is grabbing her for me.”
You leaned to sit up as Leah pressed a hand against your back to help you. You swung your leg around, so you were sat next to her, “She’s going to hate me again isn’t she.”
Leah grabbed your hand, “She won’t hate you, just like she didn’t the first time. I can’t promise it won’t take some adjusting, but I can tell you she’s taken the news of you coming home a lot better than last time. She’s older now, she understands everything a bit better.”
“I just can’t deal with her hating me again. It almost broke me the last time, seeing the look on her face every time I would walk into the room.”
She sighed, “I can’t say it’s going to be easy, and I bet it’ll be hard for her to see you like this, but it’ll be okay in the end.”
“She’s going to be scared to look at me, I mean look,” you motioned to your legs, one covered in cuts and bruises and the other missing.
The blonde rubbed circles on your hand, “It’ll be hard, but she’s a strong little girl. She’ll understand I don’t want you to worry. She’s been excited about you coming home, we’ve been talking about it.”
You raised an eyebrow, “She’s excited?”
Leah smiled, “Ever since I told her you were in the hospital, she’s been asking me about when you’d come home. She’s been waiting for this, so listen when I tell you she’ll be okay.”
Your conversation was interrupted by the front door opening, Leah squeezed your hand before jumping up. She walked towards the door to see a yelling blonde girl, “Mama!”
Leah caught her as she jumped into her arms, standing up and pressing a kiss to the side of her head, “I missed you sweetie, how was school?”
“It was good we colored and then I got to play football during break time!” you could hear the smile on the small girls face as she spoke, them not far enough into the house to see you.
You reached for your crutches and used them to slowly get yourself to your feet. You took one step on them when Leah heard the noise and whipped her head around, “Sit back down we’ll come to you.”
She had a stern look on her face, but you shook your head as you crutched towards her and the small girl, “I’m okay Le,” you saw your daughter’s head peak over her mother’s shoulder meeting your eyes, “Hi, baby girl.”
Leah gently placed her back on the ground before whispering to her, “Remember what we talked about, being gentle with Mummy.”
You had stopped a few meters behind your wife, as the small girl slowly walked over to you, “I missed you, lovie,” you smiled down at her.
“I missed you too, Mummy,” She hugged you, on the side of your good leg, and you saw Leah winced, about to talk, but you shook her head telling her it was okay.
“Should we move to the couch so I can give you a proper cuddle?” She nodded and followed close behind as you crutched to the couch.
You sat by the arm and Amelia quickly climbed up to cuddle into your side, you wrapped an arm around her pulling her closer to your side. Leah hovered nearby and moved to sit down on the chair nearby.
“How was your work trip, Mummy?”
You and Leah both let out a soft laugh, “It was good at the beginning, I was hanging out with my friends all day,” Leah sighed, knowing this wasn’t the truth, “But I know Mama told you I got hurt at the end. I can explain it to you when you’re a little older.”
“Mama said the doctors had to take your leg. Why would they do that? That’s mean.”
You sighed, “You know what a car wreck is, right baby?” the small girl nodded, “Well, me and my friends were in a bad one and it hurt my leg very badly. My left was so bad that I couldn’t keep it anymore, it would’ve made me worse.”
She looked at you confused, “But now you can’t walk anymore or play with me and Mama in the garden.”
Your heart broke hearing your daughter speak. Your whole life would change now, and it was really setting in on how it was going to change. You knew that there were prosthetics, but nothing would give you back what you had before. Even with the advancements no prosthetic would be the same as having a leg.
Leah could see the tears starting to form and your eyes and took over the conversation, “Well, some special doctors are going to give your Mummy a robot leg once her leg is healed a little more. So, in a few months she’ll be able to walk again and even play with us in the garden.”
Her eyes lit up as she sat up and looked to you, “Really?”
There was a small crack in your voice as you looked to her, “Yep, they’re going to give me one and it’ll help me walk again. It will take a while until I’m ready for it, and then after that it will take a little while to get used to wearing it.”
She seemed to take this answer, “Does that mean you’ll be part robot?”
You laughed and ran a hand through her blonde hair, “I guess it does, I’ll be part robot.” 
She cuddled back into your side one arm wrapped around your waist. You leaned down to place a kiss against her hair and then looked over to see Leah watching you lovingly. You motioned for her to come over and she took a spot on the other side of your daughter wrapping her arm around the both of you. 
This was everything you missed and thought about while you were away. Having both of your girls back with you. You spent so many nights missing them and rotting with guilt over losing the both of them, but now you were here with your life put back together and in the arms of both of your girls.
You would have to adjust to this new life of injury, but you knew with these two you would get through it. They would be your motivation, getting back to your best would be for them, and they would be by your side every step of the way.
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momochanners · 2 days
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After a good night's sleep, I think I can better solidify my thoughts in regards to the Dragon Age trailer.
First, let's start with the positives:
- Companion diversity: This has always been part of the series' DNA that has been clearly depicted with every iteration, so those who cry foul over "Asian & Black elves", prosthethics, etc etc...I really don't get that, because values and sensibilities evolve over time. Even the series itself has course corrected when needed, eg. Player character creation influencing the family ethnicity of the Couslands in DA:O vs the Hawkes in DA2.
- Unlocked romances: Letting players choose whoever they want to romance regardless of their sexuality and race has always been a positive for me. Allowing everyone to enjoy the experience equally is great (and I'm sure the nuances of player race & gender will be addressed through dialogue and banter). Moreover, CRPGs are long and time-consuming, so to be locked out of character romances mid-way through is never going to be a good time (from personal experience and observing fandom in the past).
Now the negatives:
- Maybe it's me being on the older side of the Bioware fandom (15 years in Dragon Age, 20 years if you count older games like KotOR and Jade Empire), but I cringed very hard watching the trailer. If you followed the development of this game in the past decade, the cancelled live service element that was to be DA4 in one of its iterations was so all over the way the companions were introduced that it brought out a visceral reaction in me. The tonal whiplash from how foreboding Dreadwolf was presented in the past to the patronising happy quippy MEET OUR LITTLE GUYS YOU'RE SURE TO LOVE also did not help as a first concrete look of what to expect after all this time (also poor anachronistic choice of soundtrack when you already have Trevor Morris' compositions right there). I was so dismayed when they went with a looter-shooter-esque lighthearted vibe when they could've leaned hard on the foreboding established mood and momentum they've already got going with Dreadwolf. 
- The branding switch this late in the game that comes with it, especially one as drastic as this will always come with questions and ambivalence. I feel that mitigating uncertainty from announced changes (party number, combat mechanics, setting and environment, etc) should've have been prioritised to reassure existing and lapsed fans before appealing to new ones in such a jarring way.
-  I'm simply baffled at the marketing suit who signed off on whatever this is to be their "best foot forward" at reintroducing the final form of this game? If only there were confident with the world they've already built instead of relying on trendy gimmicks, the amount of damage control I'm seeing prior to the gameplay reveal tonight was so avoidable. Controlling the narrative from the get go is so very important especially now as opinions can easily snowball overnight into behemoth-like proportions especially from bad faith actors. You would think that lessons were learned from DA:O's "THIS IS THE NEW SHIT" and DA2's "Press a button, something AWESOME happens" debacles.
(The thing is, despite it being my least favourite DA out of the three, imho Inquisition has the best marketing campaign in the franchise despite the developmental troubles going on in the background. So it has been pulled off successfully before!)
- I think the Bioware layoffs, especially the recent extensive gutting of senior staff in September 2023, significantly depleted my goodwill as a fan. To see Varric being paraded as a mascot in the trailer, game promotion and supplementary media while having his creator unceremoniously let go after years of building the franchise we love left me so very cold. And it's a me problem, but seeing many other fans barely acknowledging that save for few hollow words before getting back into the fun frustrated me so much. I get being excited to finally get something solid after years of false starts, but with what was lost along the way...I personally don't feel right to approach this installment without cynicism.
Idk, I'm just a bundle of conflicted feelings over this series I guess? When it's so good, it's really good and stays with you as memorable gaming experiences that stays with you for life, but when it stumbles and fumbles the bag...it hurts to see.
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ghoulbrain · 2 days
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The Cost of Flesh
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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.
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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.
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madridfangirl · 1 day
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Needed to write a blurb to calm myself down after THOSE photos.
Plot: Jude’s girlfriend’s reaction after seeing the SKIMS photos
Jude*female reader. Posessive plus sexy. Some Nsfw language.
………………………….
‘So, you broke the internet today.’
Jude returned from the training camp to find this message from his girlfriend. Her reaction was the one he was waiting for the most.
All the lads in the team had given him enough stick since the photos dropped. Calling him a whore. He had laughed at some and just flipped off the others. But why was she taking so long to respond? He knew she was working but he had almost dialled her number to ask her to check insta.
Well, finally she had. Jude quickly changed into his sleeping shorts and climbed into bed, face timing her. She answered on the first ring.
‘Hey.’
‘Hey, doll.’
She was in bed too, in his favourite tank top. Jude’s smile widened immediately.
‘Some heads up would have been nice, you know.’
He tore his eyes away from her cleavage long enough to smirk back at her.
‘I did say it was a big one.’
‘Right. Big one. I see what you did there.’
Jude rolled on the pillows laughing, flashing his pearly whites & boyish chuckles. Eyes sparkling with charm. He switched from a sweet, young boy to a sexy boy-toy so often and in a split second - always blowing her mind.
The blanket fell down till his waist, revealing his abs.
She had experienced them from up close many times. Traced her fingers through them, felt the rough edges, bit at the skin and also licked her way through them at length. So yes, she was very very familiar with and fond of his abs but the oiled torso had disrupted her brain chemistry. That was new, and downright sultry. Slutty. Sensuous. And oh so sexy.
They looked almost the same right now, minus the oiled bit. Her eyes moved up to his perky nipples as she wondered if they had oiled them too. If he had done it himself or if someone touched him there. And rubbed the shiny liquid all over him. The thought was unpleasant yet arousing. She wondered how he would have reacted to that, knowing fully well how sensitive Jude was around his nipples. How he always moaned with his head thrown back when she sucked him there. And how he invariably returned the favour by vigorously assaulting her boobs.
He watched her reaction with amusement and glee.
‘Eyes are up here, doll.’
‘Yes and they are very pretty. But damn the rest of you….you killed people today, hope you know that. I bet some girls dropped to their knees, cried and passed out with longing.’
Jude leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. Flexing his arms and the bouncing muscles. Giving her a show.
‘That good, huh?’
‘More. And we haven’t even addressed the star of the show yet.’
He figured she was talking about his thighs. His girl was obsessed with them - having them cage her in, wrap around her, even choke her sometimes, or just her stroking & biting them.
But no, it wasn’t his thighs that had made her pant when she saw the pics.
‘They left nothing to the imagination. Everyone SAW you today. Like fully. In those clinging tights. Women have wagers going on over your size, Jude. And horny, wet dreams. You have ruined lives today, hope you are happy.’
Full-body guffaws reverberated through his chest, bouncing off the walls.
‘Oh doll, you could join in the wagers and actually win y’know. Inside info and all.’
She declined the suggestion, telling him that women would be queuing up outside his door if she actually DOES tell them the inside info. He was enjoying the ego boost massively - it was rare for her to lose all semblance of sanity like this.
But she didn’t care. Not today. He had just dropped a sexually charged nuclear bomb on the entire female population & this was the after-effects of it.
‘Women sliding into your DMs huh? Sending nudes? Broke some kind of world record for that already today or nah?’
He just shrugged casually. Couldn’t deny it coz it was true. His inbox had exploded but his team had systems to filter out such messages. Some still seeped through & he knew she knew that.
It was just her luck that he was so far away right now. Else, she would have tied him to the bed tonight, and then vice-versa. Jude anyway loved restraining & pinning her any chance he got. She would have let him toss her around anywhere, any way he wanted. However many times he demanded. But that was not to be.
‘Strip for me.’
She said without hesitation, commanding him. He spluttered the juice in his mouth, sticky liquid dropping around his face and neck. His tongue came out to lap it up. Fucking hell - temptation personified. Biblical sinful apple.
‘You too. It’s already unfair that I am shirtless while you’re still hiding your tits. C’monn lemme see my babies. Been so long since I kissed them goodnight.’
They moved the laptop angle to cover a full body view, then proceeded to strip together. Stroking themselves in unison, eyes glued to the screen. Calling out each others names. Reaching their highs together.
She looked at his fucked out naked form, & her body burned lesser for the first time since looking at the photos. Others will only get to thirst over him from afar. But she is the one who gets to have the view, the taste and the pounding from him.
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chukys-mouthguard · 2 days
Note
23. “Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”
luke with his gf
Prompt: “Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”
Note: i feel like Luke is so hard for me to read that i had to do research before writing this 😂 like Jack and Quinn give off energy and vibes that are easy for me to read, Luke is literally the opposite, so hopefully i did him justice for my first time writing with him
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“Oh my gosh, what a day!”
With a sigh you fell back onto the couch, Luke softly chuckling at you as he unpacked the takeout you’d ordered from your favorite Chinese restaurant.
“Yeah, it was really fun. Can’t wait to see how many hearts break when photos end up online of Jack and his girlfriend out there.”
Joining Luke in the kitchen you searched for your takeout container while he handed you a plate. “Yeah, Jack is gonna be Mr. Heartbreaker for a few days. The girls will get over it I’m sure.”
The two of you taking your food over to the living room, this becoming a routine you’d shared in your relationship for a few months now. Every couple weeks you’d order takeout, trying to be mindful of both of your diets, though Luke’s claims it should be a weekly tradition. The two of you’d sit on the floor around the coffee table and talk for hours while eating dinner.
It was one thing you’d never gotten tired of. Loving the opportunity to enjoy the moments together just the two of you. Always having stories to talk about, especially when Jack and Luke were on the same team. He took every chance to chirp his brother he could.
“Did you see Lazar at family skate today?”
Immediately smiling as you thought back to Lazar on the ice with his wife and son, your heart melting at the thought of it. “Yes, oh my god he is so freaking cute. And Curtis seemed just over the moon getting to share that moment with him.”
Luke nodded as he dragged his fork through his food.
“It sort of makes me excited for the day that I’ll have that, well I mean, we I guess. Not just me.”
Your cheek flushing red at his words, leaving you speechless as he looked away embarrassed. “What??”
He nervously asked as you’d yet to say anything back to him.
“Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”
Luke just smiling as his cheeks grew red. He wasn’t the type to be overly emotional, leaving that role to you. But he’d felt comfortable enough to say what was on his mind.
He be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about the future with you, though only having been together a few years, he felt like it had been your whole lives. And judging by the blush on your cheeks and the smile on your face, it seemed like you weren’t opposed to the idea.
“Well, I don’t know. Just seeing guys have moments like that, can’t help but think about it happening to me you know?”
Nodding your head you couldn’t stop smiling, loving this side of Luke where he wasn’t afraid to be open and honest. Letting his guard down a bit and showing some emotion.
Moving to his side you curled up under his arm, wrapping your arms around him as he offered you a bite of his food.
“I love the idea of us having a moment like that one day.” Tilting your head up you gave him a kiss on the cheek as he smiled. “You, me, and our little girl skating around the ice.”
“Oh, you were thinking girl? Interesting, I thought boy.”
Luke shrugged as he stood up, walking to take the empty food containers to the kitchen.
“Well, looks like we are just gonna have to try for one of each then huh?”
Your eyes going wide as you stared at him, Luke just laughing while he cleaned up. “One of each? Oh my gosh, we don’t even have one kid yet and you’re already talking about multiple?”
Luke smirked at you from behind the door of the fridge as he put away the leftovers, enjoying how flustered the conversation had made you.
“It’s never too early to get started, or at least get some practice!”
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nanaarchy · 3 days
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Hey chat !!!! I'm going insane.
Ever since my first listen to TMA, I've had a huge question that NEVER got answered.
Never. Not in the whole series, not Q&As or the wiki or anything. I thought I would never find answers. I thought it would be forgotten. I thought it was a small insignificant detail and I'd have to live with never knowing the truth about it.
Now with TMAGP 19, I might finally know the answer.
Maybe. Maybe maybe. But It Could Be. And now I'm losing my mind at the implications.
((For the record, I know that the stories and worldbuilding are inherently separate - hell, there are even timeline differences in the cases I'm using as evidence. But the overlap might be important, especially when it comes to the Web.))
Spoilers for both shows below!
Its branches were exquisite, and delicate, swaying slightly from small eddies in the liquid, and they shone with every spectra. I must confess that to look upon it, one was – (sigh) filled with profound wonder at its exquisite elegance. [...] Even I, steeped in worldly matters as I am, recognized The Lord’s words to Adam, and was much dismayed at the implication. Isaac then plucked the delicate fruit with ungloved hands and held it before me. [...] The creature was taking root. Strands of its mottled brown hair were extruding downwards between the floor, seeking the dark earth below. Then, too, its back began to sprout, radiant branches unfurling and thickening before me, reaching upwards towards the sunlight with a seemingly insatiable desire. [...] I tell you here, Robert, it saw me, and it knew me. (TMAGP 19 - HARD RESET)
It was an ornate wooden thing, with a snaking pattern of lines weaving their way around towards the centre. The pattern was hypnotic and shifted as I watched it, like an optical illusion. I found my eyes following the lines towards the middle of the table, where there was nothing but a small square hole. Graham noticed me staring, and told me that interesting antique furniture was one of his few true passions. Apparently he’d found the table in a second-hand shop during his student days and fallen in love with it. It had been in pretty bad shape but he’d spent a long time and a lot of money restoring it, though he’d never been able to figure out what was supposed to go in the centre. He assumed it was a separate piece and couldn’t track it down. (MAG 3 - ACROSS THE STREET)
Re: Magnus Institute Ruins. By RedCanary on Saturday April 23 2022 12:17pm. The photos from the spelunk seem properly gone, but I did find an old wooden thing with a bunch of similar symbols on. Some kinda empty box, not really sure what for, though. Gonna see if I can get the light right for a decent pic. Edit: No dice, I’m afraid. Must be something up with my phone camera. Really not helping the whole paranoia thing either. Anyone know anything about photographic distortion? Gonna see if I can borrow my dad’s SLR tomorrow. (TMAGP 1 - FIRST SHIFT)
Adelard Dekker stood in the corner. He was straight and motionless, his lips moving rapidly, though no sound came out of them. In the centre of the room, stood a table carved from dark wood and wrapped all over with a sprawling, intricate pattern. And in front of that table was the thing that had said it was my cousin. It was long and thin, the tops of it bent against the ceiling and its stick-like limbs flailed from too many joints and elbows. Wrapped around it were thick strands of what I think was spider’s web, stretching back into the table, which I now saw pulsed along its carved channels with a sickly light. The face at the top of that gangly frame was like nothing on earth. (MAG 78 - DISTANT COUSIN)
Now... Now I get it. I get it. I finally gave an answer. Or, at least, I think we'll get a concrete answer soon. But I think I get it.
I think I get where the web table comes from. I think I know what it's made of. why it glows. why it had a hole in the middle. I think I might know how the web gained control and sentience so much faster than the other fears. and, if it still manifests in the same way in the Protocol universe, how it also quickly became "the manager" of other fears, as theories suggest.
More importantly, I think I know what was up with the mysterious tree from so, so long ago.
Now I have an answer.
Why was there an apple buried in Hill Top Road?
I opened the box and sitting inside was a single green apple. It looked fresh, shiny, with a coat of condensation like it had just been picked on a cool spring morning. I picked it up. I wasn’t going to eat it, I’m not that stupid, but more than bleeding trees or phantom burning, this confused me. As I took it out of the box, though, it began to turn. The skin turned brown and bruised and started to shrivel in my hand. Then it split. And out came spiders. Dozens, hundreds of spiders erupting from this apple that was rotting right before my eyes. I shrieked and dropped it before any of them could touch my arm. The apple fell to the ground and burst in a cloud of dust. I backed away and waited until I was sure all the spiders had left before retrieving the box. I smashed it with a crowbar, and threw the remains into a skip. (MAG 8 - BURNED OUT)
And now I have an answer. Maybe.
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ironunderstands · 2 days
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All of Aventio’s implications that I can remember because someone has to compile them 
Massive disclaimer: the purpose of this slideshow is not to prove that Aventio is canon (even if I personally think it is), but rather to demonstrate the relationship these two have in canon, as well as disprove the misconception that they hate one another, because no, they absolutely do not. This list is also in no particular order so expect a lot of jumping around in the story. I hope you enjoy reading! 
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Dr. Ratio added gambling to his update for the Simulated universe, and said a certain gambler would enjoy it, despite Ratio’s known dislike of gambling. 
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He put his all into carrying out Aventurine’s betrayal plan, and Aventurine trusted him to execute it correctly, despite the plan/going to Penacony having no obvious gain on Ratio’s end.
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Dr. Ratio gave Aventurine this note urging him to keep on living despite the pains of his past and the agony of the present, wishing a man who is already known for his luck the best of it, something which helps Aventurine survive the manifestation of IX. I am insane about this note and could yap on and on about it, but I will spare you the delusions for now haha. 
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Dr. Ratio wears his headpiece around those he finds to be unintelligent and not worth his time, but he has never once on screen worn it around Aventurine, signaling that he finds the man to be both intelligent and worthy of his attention. 
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Aventurine doubts his own intelligence and worth in his voiceline about Dr. Ratio, believing that the scholar doesn’t care for him. However, in Ratio’s voiceline about Aventurine, he commends Aventurine for his competence and skill, pointing out that his success is not in-fact just due to his luck, and if he keeps doubting himself he will meet the fate of those praying on his downfall.
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Aventurine is also the only person to actually have voicelines about Dr. Ratio so far, despite Ratio having interacted with many others, meaning he’s the closest in canon to Aventurine, seeing that he’s the only one who talks about him. (Hopefully Screwllum has a line on Ratio when he comes out bc I am starving for Ratio content lmao). 
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Aventurine’s first eidolon name is Prisoner’s Dilemma, which refers to a game theory in which two people can only achieve the best outcome of their situation if they put their faith one another while being unable to communicate/physically separated, and it mirrors the dynamic Ratio and Aventurine had on Penacony while acting out the betrayal plan. Which could mean nothing. 
His 6th eidolon name is Stag Hunt Game, which refers to another game theory based on trust, and is again, reminiscent of Ratio and Aventurine’s plan. Basically, they trust each other a hell of a lot, to the point where his eidolons are named after similar games of trust, which is no accident, as well, there’s countless game theories, and hoyo went with the ones specifically centered around trust between two people. For example his E4 is another one of those theories, but has nothing to do with trust, so they specifically selected his first and last eidolon to be about it, interesting.
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The name of the 2.1 quest that just involves Ratio and Aventurine is Double Indemnity, which not only refers to the legal matter but also a famous romance and thriller movie in the 1950s by the same name. Notably, it shares a lot of plot points with that of the 2.1 quest as a whole, and the fmc is always portrayed as blond, just like Aventurine. 
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There is also a scene within Double Indemnity that shares a lot of parallels between itself and the Final Victor lightcone. However in the movie scene she is holding the gun, whereas in the lightcone Ratio is, even if Aventurine is holding it to his chest.
Also if you want a more in depth analysis on how this movie relates to them, this person made a great one on tumblr :@anominous-user. (without the period, also it’s long as hell though be warned). 
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You receive the track “Spellbound” after completing the Double Indemnity mission.
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It is also the name of a 1945 film by Alfred Hitchcock, which is a Thriller, Noir and you guessed it, features romance as a major part of the plot. Its story also seems to have parallels to Aventio’s, but I’m not gonna get into that for now.
Notably, spellbound also means to hold the complete attention of someone, which is more often than not romantic, as only people you love/admire can captivate you like that. 
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The bathtub couch Aventurine gets Ratio during his demo (and is the only time the seating ever changes in demos) is reminiscent of the bathtub couch from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and you guessed it, its another romance.
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He constantly flirts with Ratio in the pinball section of the Double Indemnity trailer, even going so far as to a) have the “Doctor you’re huge” line become a massive meme in the community b) he literally says the view is breathtaking when the only view is the giant Ratio he’s staring at. Honestly this entire section is so chock full of romance tropes (seriously what writer let their size difference kink into the story) that I have no idea how it passed censorship.
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Aventurine also flirts with Ratio in the 2.0 scene by asking where his alabaster head is, which means he’s seen him wear it before. However, even when Dr. Ratio is acting, supposedly yelling at Aventurine for being a useless fool, he doesn’t wear the mask meaning he doesn’t truly feel that way.
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They also have designated nicknames for one another, that are exclusive to them only. Dr. Ratio only ever calls Aventurine “gambler” while in his presence, and although Aventurine calls him Ratio sometimes, he often refers to Ratio as Doc/Doctor (Professor too in the CN) when talking to him. What’s interesting is that nobody else seems to refer to either of them with these names, meaning they made them for one another.
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Despite the fact that throughout Penacony, Dr. Ratio’s job is to sell the betrayal plan, he still apologizes to Aventurine in the 2.0 argument scene, and looks away during Aventurine’s sentencing presumably out of guilt/to not break his poker face when the other looks at him. He also not so kindly tells Sunday to visit a shrink (therapist), which should tell you how much his actions concern and upset Ratio.
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He also breaks his act again to check in on Aventurine. Hmm. 
Anyways time for the Aventurine keeping up with starrail speedrun because OH LORD, I’m gonna number these by image so I don’t exceed the count LMAOO. The first few are numbered by image, and the next are numbered by the columns of images, and I can clarify in the comments if you’re confused!
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1) Owlbert calling them good friends (which Mr. Tsundere denies, although he says Aven isn’t awful to work with) 
2) PRAISE OWLBERT
3) This line is very significant because only 3% of Dr. Ratio’s students ever pass his classes, in which they become experts in their fields. So, if Aventurine earns a passing grade in Dr. Ratio’s book, that means he’s exceptional to him as almost nobody does. 
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1) Ratio says his flashy outfits just make his job harder which ??? What do you mean by that sir do you not like seeing other people lay eyes on Aventurine serving cvnt? Why are you so worried about how his jobs go? Hmmm? Throughout the whole video he also keeps saying Aventurine shouldn’t take up fights in the first place, and the more logical thing to do would be to run away. Worried about our dear gambler Ratio?
2) How well do you know this man that you know his personal motto 😭 look genuinely idc if you leave this shipping them or not, how the hell are you gonna deny their friendship after this at the very least. 
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Ok homoverse/j Anyways basically what’s going on here is that the little showcase of Aventurine’s kit ended and Ratio gave him a compliment. Owlbert says it seems like there is some mutual respect between them. Interesting, instead of denying it, Ratio asks, “What did he say about me?” implying that Ratio respects Aventurine, but he did not realize the other respected him back. 
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1) Which causes Owlbert to spill this, which speaks for itself, Aventurine believes Ratio is the person who knows him best, so he invited him to be on the show. 
2) Which results in perhaps the greatest display of Ratio’s tsundereness to this day, also Owlberts face I can’t 
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1) It seems Ratio didn’t think Aventurine knew him so well, but oh boy it gets better (worse for Ratio though LMAOO)
2) Caught your ass in 4k, also please just go and listen to this demo again I don’t think Ratio could sound more flustered if he tried. 
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Apologies for the fuckass title card getting in the way no I don’t know how to remove it, but if you look closely in the first one, you can see a little sweat drop by Ratio’s face, which is again, another common trope with Tsundere’s when they get called out on their bs. “I really can’t tell what the deal is between you two,” me too Owlbert, me too.
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Aventurine knows Ratio is in the council of Mundanites, information that is only a rumor to the rest of the galaxy, and Ratio trusts him with this information.
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Acheron calls them friends, thank you Queen louder for the dumbasses in the back! Apparently there’s also a note somewhere in Penacony that talks about her, Argenti and of course Ratio being the ones to save Aventurine, so if I can find it, I’ll include it in the next part. 
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Oh and don’t you think I’m done w this ridiculous lightcone for one second. I’m  well aware it’s a display of Aventurine’s su1c1dal tendencies, hell I was and still am the biggest supporter of that, however I also have eyes and yeah this fucking thing is really h0rny oh my god. “He provocatively looks at the man before him,” ok, could have picked any other wording but you picked that one 😭.
Also, a key detail of this lightcone that people miss is that it’s, well, a lightcone. A lightcone we get in 2.0 as soon as it drops, and since lightcones are canonically condensed memories, this happened way before the events of 2.0, and is likely how Aventurine convinced Ratio to join him jn the betrayal plan. 
Moreover, Aventurine says “remain amicable,” meaning this isn’t their first meeting, and him and Ratio had at least been talking to one another for some time before this, which could mean their friendship/partnership/whatever the hell this is has dated back to perhaps even prior to 1.6 when we meet Ratio for the first time, but ultimately that’s just speculation. 
Lastly, for this mini lightcone rant: the animated version of it. Oh lord. 1) Camden and Jordan put their all into it istg 😭 2) Ratio pulls the gun back but Aventurine stops him, meaning that a) Ratio didn’t want him to get hurt, but he b) accepted Aventurine’s provocation, 3) Aventurine LEANS CLOSER to him while teasing him with his whole “why not doctor~,” sh1t and 4) if you look closely at both the animated and still versions of it, there’s a tiny spark of light in Aventurine’s normally dead eyes, which is just, yeah. 
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Ratios party voiceline for Aventurine. This is a complicated one because it is meant to be b1tchy in both languages (this is a tumblr post on it by @devxoid which goes over the nuance surrounding it. The TLDR is: directly translated, it means “take care of yourself, gambler, I need not your worry/concern,” but its actual meaning is far closer to the “fuck off” vibes in the CN. However, two this complicate this, 1) he sounds far calmer/neutral in the CN and 2) Ratio is the biggest goddamn tsundere on this planet, so even if he sounds mean, he does genuinely want Aventurine to take care of himself, as Ratio’s tried and true method of getting people to better themselves is by being rude to them, so it’s actually fairly in character, it’s just I think the way the line was directed in EN was a bit too harsh and threw some people off 
Finally, here’s some more silly ones that don’t really mean anything on their own until you put them into the context of everything else:
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Their status as package deal do not seperate in both the data bank and the profile pictures is extremely funny because they have no reason to be next to each other like that, they just are.
Their kits are also designed to synergize perfectly with one another, and in the livestream Ratio was put in the team to demonstrate Aventurine’s kit because well, they are made to work together. Aventurine is by far Dr. Ratio’s best sustain unit due to the debuffs he provides (alongside everything else) which only gets better with eidolons + his signature lightcone, and if you have ever played Ratio you know how much he likes debuffs. As for Aventurine, his arguably  best team is the FUA one with Robin, Topaz and well, Ratio, who is the main dps of the team. Honestly besides trying to zero cycle MOC there is no reason as to why you would run Ratio with any other support unit if you have Aventurine. 
I hope you enjoyed reading! Also, this is absolutely not everything, just all the stuff that’s easy to point out, and I’m not even getting into an actual analysis of the plot and how that demonstrates their relationship. Moreover, I don’t expect you to leave this shipping them if you don’t already like them, but I at least want to demonstrate that they are without a doubt close friends in canon, and there’s no denying it. I definitely missed some so feel free to point out more, as I might make a part two, as these are just all the ones off the top of my head. Continually, for the people who like Aventio, hopefully this serves as some sort of guidebook/reference to their implications/interactions, and if you have any moots who love this ship, I’d recommend tagging them in this bc I think they would love it! Have a good day :D
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theladycarpathia · 1 day
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I've seen too much stuff about Clipboard Buck and Tommy lately to not write this.
His boyfriend on a power trip should not be hot. 
“See,” Chim mutters under his breath, leaning over the rail to watch Buck down below. “I warned you.”
“So you did,” Tommy agrees, keeping his true thoughts to himself. Buck has the clipboard clenched in one hand, pen in the other, and directs a reluctant Hen and Eddie as they perform checks on the ambulance and the ladder. 
“He’s a menace,” Chim continues, with feeling. “He’s a dictator!”
“Uh huh,” Tommy says, watching the furrow in Buck’s forehead as he makes another tick. He gestures furiously towards something in one of the ladder’s compartments and Eddie puts down the jaws to argue back. 
“We keep hiding the clipboards,” Chim says darkly. “I don’t know where he keeps finding them all.”
“Unfortunately for you, I think that’s something they sell at most major retailers,” Tommy quips and rests his arms on the railing. 
He’s worked under power-crazed maniacs. He was in the army, and then he had Captain Gerrard. His own father was one fully for his way or the highway. 
Buck being like this should not be hot. And yet all Tommy can think about is lying naked on the bed while Buck does things to him from a very meticulous and organized list. 
Eddie makes an obscene gesture behind Buck’s back and Tommy smirks. 
“And this is Buck on a regular Tuesday,” Chim says and pops his gum. “Wait until you see Buck in an emergency or organize an event. It’s a good thing you stopped by. You need to know these kinds of things about a person before you get serious.”
“I’m glad to see you too, Chim,” Tommy says, although stopping to chat to Chimney hadn’t been on his agenda for today. He and Buck have had conflicting shifts lately, and they’ve barely seen each other. Texts and a few brief phone calls have been all they’ve had to get them by and Tommy finally had enough of it. Bobby doesn’t mind Tommy swinging by the firehouse and seeing Buck if they’re not on a call. And today is apparently so quiet that Buck has time to do a thorough inspection of the vehicles. 
“Are you?” Chim asks suddenly, twisting towards Tommy with a surprisingly calculating look. “Getting serious?”
Tommy just shrugs. He knows the answer, he’s just not entirely willing to discuss it yet. But it’s been long enough now that they keep toothbrushes and few essentials at each other’s houses, that they have evenings where they sprawl together in front of the TV, just happy to be together. Tommy knows about his sister, the loss of Daniel, the myth of Abby and has even read Taylor Kelly’s book. 
Which he did in bed, reading several segments out loud, much to Buck’s horror and embarrassment. 
“You seem to be,” Chim comments, and down below Hen throws a roll of surgical tape at Buck. “Not that I’m complaining. We like you, Buck likes you, you flew us into a hurricane…”
“I like him too,” Tommy says, because honestly he’s been smitten since Buck came up with that stupid motto back in the helicopter. “Funny to think that Evan and I never met before as he only got to join the 118 because I left.”
“You got there in the end,” Chim says. “I mean this as nicely as possible but you leaving worked out great for me. If you hadn’t left, there wouldn’t have been a space to fill. If Buck hadn’t joined us…”
“Then you would never have met Maddie when she came to LA,” Tommy says, understanding instantly. Funny how something that simple has changed so many lives. He doesn’t regret moving to Harbor, even with the closeness that the 118 has now. He wouldn’t be who he is otherwise, without that space to accept himself. If he didn’t have that, maybe he wouldn’t be the person brave enough to kiss Buck. “I get it.”
“Although,” Chim continues, still watching Buck down below. “We wouldn’t have the Clipboard Dictator if you had stayed…”
“You love it really,” Tommy says, because he knows Chim loves Buck. But then Buck’s eyes swing upwards, towards the first floor and the two of them. 
“Oh shit,” Chimney hisses and then ducks below the railing. It doesn’t work because Buck just shouts “Chim, it’s glass! I can see you!”
“That wasn’t your best idea,” Tommy says and then offers Chimney a hand. “Come on. I’ll go down with you. Maybe I can make the tyrant a little bit sweeter.”
Chimney doesn’t look soothed by this. 
“Hello, Chimney,” Hen says pointedly, sitting on the back of the ambulance. “Nice to see you. How funny you happened to be hiding in the bathroom when Buck gets his clipboard out.”
“I wasn’t hiding,” Chimney mutters, eying Buck’s clipboard with apprehension. “Kinard, save me.”
“Evan,” Tommy says, snagging his boyfriend’s free wrist with one hand. “I came by to see you. Maybe we give the workforce a five minute break?”
Buck frowns down at his list. “I wanted to finish this before Bobby was done with his paperwork,” he says before looking suspiciously at his friends. “And if they leave, I don’t think they’ll come back.”
“Damn straight,” Eddie says under his breath. Hen just looks innocent, although Tommy is pretty sure they’re about to see three empty firefighter shaped spaces. 
“Just ten minutes,” Tommy cajoles, stroking the soft part of Buck’s wrist with his thumb. “I haven’t seen you all week.” He drops his voice down for the next part, hoping that Buck is as desperate to see him. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Buck practically throws the clipboard at Eddie. 
“Taking a break!” he says cheerfully, half dragging Tommy behind the engine. “Be back in ten or I will hunt you down.”
“Will he do it with a chainsaw, I wonder?” Hen has time to ask (Tommy feels as though he should follow up on this later), before all three of them vanish. Tommy doesn’t see because he’s pressing his boyfriend up against the gleaming red of the engine and kissing the breath out of him. 
“What can we do in ten minutes?” Buck asks, eyes glittering, running his hands up and down Tommy’s chest. 
“Probably not a lot, as we’re in the open, in a firehouse, during your workday,” Tommy admits begrudgingly. A week is a very long time. Buck’s salacious texts and suggestive selfies haven’t been enough. “But we have time off in two days and I want to spend every second with you.”
“Good,” Buck says and the next few minutes pass very quickly. Buck tastes of coffee and he keeps both hands planted on Tommy’s rear - if he keeps squeezing like that, Tommy is going to have difficulty walking out of here. 
“I think we order takeout and movies and don’t leave the house for twenty-four hours,” Tommy suggests, just as Buck licks the shell of his ear. Fuck. This kid will be the death of him. 
“Fine by me,” Buck says and pulls him in for one last kiss. “But I really should get back to work. Call you when I’m off?”
There’s such obvious suggestion in his voice that want searches in Tommy’s gut almost instantly. He pushes it down and strokes Buck’s rather red jaw. 
“Can’t wait,” he says. “And Evan? Go easy on your friends.”
But the others are waiting for them, standing in a line by the stairs, obvious glee written all over their faces. Eddie is holding Buck’s clipboard and Tommy deftly removes it from his grasp. 
“Why, Mr Buckley,” Hen says, looking them up and down with a smirk. “That’s not a proper use of company time.”
“Ha ha,” Buck says mutinously, and with far more confidence than someone wearing a ridiculous amount of beard burn should have. “We have a lot to do. Where’s the…?”
Tommy hastily recaps the pen and hands it back to Buck, as though nothing is changed. He’d feel bad about it if it was an official document. But as it was Buck’s handwritten list of chores, he thinks the others might get some amusement out of it. 
He kisses Buck on the cheek and waves goodbye, quickly ducking out of the firehouse before Buck notices. 
“Who vandalized my list?” Buck shrieks indignantly and Tommy just skips all the way back to his truck.
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softspiderling · 1 day
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✦ . * ocean blue eyes pt. V | r.c
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
author's note: how many parts are we in rn i have lost count… tagging @zyafics as ushe 🙂‍↕️
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
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liked by ynsunshine, sunburninmiami, ynnnnn4lyfe and 2.814 others
ynupdates Kiara Carerra, Topper Thornton, John B Routledge, Cleo Griffith and Pope Heyward at YN’s show at Times Square tonight via @.kiecarerra and @.topperthorntonofficial’s stories
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ynovereveryone where did all these people come from 😭
➞ ynfan John B is Sarah’s boyfriend, Cleo, Kie and Pope are good friends of Sarah’s and Topper has always been around bc he’s a good friend of Justin
↳ katelynwillis sorry im new, who’s Sarah and Justin?
↳ ynfan Sarah is YN’s (new) guitarist and Justin is YN’s brother :)
raferforlifer does anyone know if Rafe is there?
➞ rafeandonlyrafe Hasn’t been spotted so far
➞ rafe247 isn’t that his arm in the picture with Cleo?
➞ rafesnumberonefan I doubt that he’s gonna attend, he doesn’t really like crowds like this and he barely went to any of Gracie’s shows when Sarah played for her
prettylittleyn Man, I wish I had friends like this😭
ynbiggestfan their vibes are so good I just know they’re having the best time
obsessedwithyn why are Sarah’s friends stealing my tickets 💀
➞ yn365 i promise you that they didn’t “steal” your ticket. they 100% got vip access
↳ obsessedwithyn so they’re using Sarah’s connection to get free tickets? got it
↳ ynsunshine girl
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rafeupdates Rafe at YN’s show in Times Square last night
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rafesnumberonefan I stand corrected
mwahrafe holy mother of god….
rafefan I’m that girl in the background going😲
➞ rafebrazil03 wdym that’s me
jeanie97 god bless his mother for birthing such a fine ass man
raferaferafe I COULDVE MET RAFE????
sarahcameronsbaby Rafe going to the show to support his sister😭😭😭
➞ rafecameron4lyfe or he’s a fan of YN…
➞ cameronslegacy the way Rafe is never at any events except for work and this
rafeonmymind Man he looks good
➞ onlyrafes RIGHT like obviously he always looks good, but idk there’s something about him in this pic….
raferaferafe how is that girl just casually talking to Rafe😩
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youruser LAST NIGHT WAS UNFORGETTABLE 🩵Thank YOU for coming to see me! I love you!
PS: This was my first show with Sarah and as you could tell: match made in heaven
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ynsunshine I wish I could’ve been there😔😔
sarahcam omg hard launch
➞ youruser 😂
whationlylistentoyn It’s my dream to see you live one day
johnbroutledge absolute rockstar!
❤️ liked by youruser
ynsbbg I just know you served
ynbrazil In another life😭
rafe incredible show
❤️ liked by youruser
kiecarerra Tysmmm for letting me be apart of this <3
➞ youruser thank you for coming 🥹
popeheywardphotography imagine how sick this picture would’ve been on a real camera…
➞ youruser Did you really think I invited you to SHOOT MY SHOW
↳ popeheywardphotography it’s not work if you love your job
cleogriffith BEST NIGHT EVER!!!
➞ youruser With youuuu🤍
topperthorntonofficial you rocked it!!!
❤️liked by youruser
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judesfavflvr · 2 days
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could you do reader and jude have a big fight and reader ignores jude then he ends up apologizing so rllu just angst and fluff at the end! if that’s okay w u🤍
˚୨୧⋆。 you and jude barely ever argued, so when you did it naturally got big. this time it was definitely his fault, and he knew it when you he saw the way your face dropped at his words. it started off pretty tame, just a few words making their way back and forth between you.
“jude, i’m telling you i already made plans” you grumbled as you moved around the room, trying on your new dress. he wanted you to go out with him and a bunch of teammates, but your friend was visiting madrid, and you couldn’t wait to see her for the first time in forever.
“oh so now your plans are more important than going out with your own boyfriend” he sounded offended as he himself went about the room, throwing on his new pants.
“what are you talking about? i told you, she’s visiting madrid for the weekend, i want to see her” you sighed, fixing your dress before your mirror, jude looking you in the eye through it where he stood behind you, buttoning up his shirt.
“and i want to see you. this is my only free weekend for a while too” he sighed, coming closer so he could check his outfit in the mirror, standing next to you.
“we live together, jude” you sighed, looking up at him. he was being utterly irrational. he looked down at you, his eyes cold.
“sometimes i wish we weren’t” and with that he turned around, grabbed his phone, left the room.
“what’s that supposed to mean” you yelled back after him, tears already stinging your eyes. you quickly finished getting ready before making your way downstairs. he was sat on the couch, busy with his phone, and you simply walked past him to put your shoes on.
“what time are you coming home” he asked, not getting a response. you didn’t think you could talk to him. he called out your name, only to be met with the sound of the front door slamming shut, signaling your departure.
throughout the night you got various texts and calls from him, but you chose to ignore them all. at one point your friend got so annoyed she asked you to just reply.
“who the hell is spamming you? just answer already” but you sighed, putting your phone on do not disturb before putting it away.
you got home before jude, only for him to come back while you were getting unready in the bathroom. he walked into the room, calling out your name, only to be met with silence once again. he sighed, standing in the doorway of the open bathroom door, leaning against it.
“i called you so many times, why didn’t you answer?” his tone was defeated, a sigh following the stretched silence. you walked past him, making your way into the room.
he grabbed your arm, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling you so you stood between his thighs. you struggled against him, tears once again making their way to your eyes, but he refused to let go.
“i’m sorry” the apology was loud and genuine, making you finally look at him. “okay? i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that. i just meant that us living together is sort of your excuse now, and i want to be with you all the time, even if we live together.”
he was looking at you with defeated and soft eyes, and you couldn’t stop the tear that fell down your cheek. he quickly stood up, pulling you into his arms as he rubbed your back, apologizing over and over again as he kissed the top of your head.
“i love you. living with you has been the best thing to happen to me” he whispered as he pulled back, and you could only kiss him in return.
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