#i would say more but really what more is there to say.
Text
DAY-SHIFT. (p. sh)
― 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] ]
CC:...[ [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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TW: yandere, noncon/dubcon, angst, unwanted pregnancy, blackmail, ish-baby trapping
part one
fem reader
You went cold and forgot how to breathe.
When you got to the kindergarten, they told you his father had already come and collected him early. All looking at you as though you were crazy, assaulting the daycare workers with your hands in a bruising grip, shaking her by her shoulders—demanding she tell you where he took him.
She spilled the name of some family restaurant down the road and said he’d wanted you to join them there. The poor thing was on the verge of tears when you let go.
Rushing out, you all but ran down the streets before pushing yourself through the doors—cold-sweating and swivel-eyed—in a panic, scanning faces with his name coming out weak under your breath.
With your vision spinning, you felt faint before you heard it.
“Mommy! Mommy! You’re here! Look! I’m King of the castle!” he shouted, and your peeled eyes snapped to see him up high in a bright red plastic tower.
But before your shoes could hit the soft foam of the playground, you were intercepted by something larger.
“He’s fine,” he said under his breath, catching and stopping you in your beeline, holding you by the waist. “I need to talk to you.”
Something old and instinctive didn’t bother paying him heed—as if forgetting how to speak, you just ignored him in favor of pushing past him, eyes glued to the sight of your son blissfully unaware, playing with other kids with an oblivious smile on his face. But his grip was stronger than your instincts, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to hurt you, even when you tried twisting yourself free.
“Come on,” he urged.
You were about to sneer something, finally looking at his face—that face you hated—but the bark of curse words got held back.
“Look around you. Let’s not cause a scene.” The wild animal within went silent while your eyes flickered around at the surrounding picnic tables where families were having their dinner. “We can talk outside. My assistant will look after him.”
You didn’t feel much inclined to listen, but still, even though it made you hate to fold on his behest—reluctantly, you accepted the sense of what he was saying. Looking back at your son still laughing up in his tower with cinched brows. You didn’t want to scare him when he didn’t know what was going on, even though you felt the need to scream at the very top of your lungs.
You allowed him to lead you outside, but as soon as the fresh air welcomed your rigid state, you were at once whipping around and pushing him away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” snarling at him. “How fucking dare you?!”
“Calm down. He might still see us,” he hushed, hands raised in halfhearted surrender, casting a nod to the glass walls separating you from the frivolity inside. “Let’s just talk rationally.”
“Rationally?!” you scoffed in a shout, eyes still manic. “You fucking kidnapped my son, you psycho-”
“You wouldn’t answer my texts or calls,” he snubbed. “He’s my son too-”
“Fuck you,” you interrupted to return the favor. “If you fuck with me on this, I swear I’ll ruin you.” You had a finger raised at him, breathing furiously—looking down-right mad—sweaty and disheveled from your run with your face twisted with such a state of frenzy. “I’ll tell everyone how I got him in the first place!”
Despite the threat, he didn’t seem all that fazed.
“Think about it…” he said calmly, much in contrast to you. “Who do you think people will believe? A teenage mom abusing her son for a paycheck or his estranged father wanting to provide for him?”
You blanched, and before anything else made it out—whether it be more rage or something else, he was already further silencing you.
“Not to mention… the trial would be gruesome, and Junior would have to grow up with it always hanging over his head—is that really what you want?”
You look at him, and you still can't believe it. How could it have turned out like this? You’d been perfect only a month ago before he’d shown up at your apartment.
You thought you’d sent him on his way for good that day, but only now did you realize he had no plans to leave you alone.
“Come, let’s talk in the car. It’s cold, and you’re not dressed,” he ushered, taking your arm again where you stood, stunned and still, trying to wrap your head around his threats. Letting yourself be led into the black vehicle standing perfectly parked in its neat white rectangle.
You both got in the back with enough room to battle your homey sofa nook at home.
“I don’t want this to get ugly,” he started anew—his voice still so irritatingly calm, unfairly so. “I just want to see my son-”
“He’s not yours,” you croaked, feeling the situation slip from your fingers—battling a drumming heart, shifty breaths, and the mean sting of tears welling up in your eyes.
“If you try and keep him from me, I’ll sue for full custody. And given I’m the only one out of us who isn’t a pro-bono case and the only one with any future that isn’t managing a register, I’d say I have a pretty fair shot at winning.”
You can’t keep from bursting out crying then, overwhelmed by the fear of losing the only thing that mattered and the pure disgust of the man who’d given it to you. It felt like everything was tearing—your whole life—crumbling before your eyes.
“Don’t cry,” he soothed, his hand coming to drape your hunched shoulders where you held your tears. “I don’t want to take him away from you…” His attempt did little to comfort you, but the next words had your heart grasping for what little hope they offered. “And I’m not going to either.”
You looked at him through the hurt of swollen eyes, tears still falling while he wiped them away with the course pad of his thumb—rubbing your cheek affectionately. In any other circumstance, you’d surely slap him, but right now, all you could do was listen.
“I’m buying a house,” he revealed, still holding your cheek and gaze. “Fit for a family. Safe neighborhood, good school district, giant backyard.” The list went over your head—it was all too surreal to register. You couldn’t even fathom what he was getting at until, “I want the two of you to come live there with me.”
Stunned, you remained completely silent until the tears dried, and he let go of your face.
“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He reaches across you and fetches the seatbelt before coming back over you to click it in place. “I’ll go get Junior and drive you home. Just stay here.”
You do as suggested and stay seated as he pops his door open and leaves—feeling all but cemented in place as your thoughts go tumbling around and around as if caught in a rip curl. When Junior jumps in beside you, a farfetched smile is all you can offer. Thankfully, he’s so enamored by a toy he’d gotten to notice much of your state.
When your door opens again, you’re led out and onto your neighborhood street. The fresh air does little to clear your mind. Feeling all but feverish as you hold Junior's small hand in yours while the man of your nightmares smiles all too fondly at the two of you.
“I’ll come pick you up after your shift on Monday.,” he says decidedly—cheerfully as he ruffles Junior’s hair enough to make him giggle. “Bring the rascal with you, and he can pick his room first.”
You weren’t planning on staying. You were never planning on staying—certain you would leave the second the opportunity to skip town arose—you just need to scramble the money together first.
But the house was huge… nothing you could ever dream of, and while it made you desperate with grief, you couldn’t deny it either… Junior really loved having a dad.
It nearly brought sick to your throat to call him that. It was a shot through the heart every time you heard Junior’s boyish call, squealing with giggles, saying “Daddy, daddy, daddy-”
None of it seemed right to you. Seeing his bright smile, now at the age where a new tooth fell out every other week—looking so goofy as he proudly shows the two of you the new one he’d just knocked out playing soccer at school. “Mommy, Daddy, look!”
What’s worse is that you can't even deny how good the man you hate is at it all—spoiling him with gifts and making him laugh—giving piggyback ride after air-plane flight after tickle-fight and a game of tag and hide’n’seek.
And it’s not just the easy stuff. He’s good at the shit that used to make you go crazy—putting him to bed, getting him dressed, making him eat the right stuff, and not just scuffle down candy. It’s as if the two of them have developed a secret language you’re not a part of. If Junior weren’t a toddler, you’d even suspect he’d been bribed and told to do his best to make you lose your mind. But no, it’s just reality.
The man you live with drives and picks your son up from school as if he’d done it since he was born, goes with you to meet the teacher if and when he gets into trouble and helps the two of you pick out the right shoes—shoes that you can now afford, thanks to him.
“I thought I might sleep in the master bedroom tonight.” He says, leaning against the frame in the doorway.
You’d been living there a month now. He’d been generous enough to sleep in the guest room up until now.
You don’t know how to deny him. It feels as if anything you might say would just be ignored or threatened until you eventually took it back. You didn’t want him in your bed—you didn’t want him in the same house—in fact, preferably, you’d want him to be six feet deep in the dirt.
You end up not answering. But he’s used to that by now.
“I get it…” he says, taking steps into the room you’d wrongfully thought was your safe space. “You don’t trust me.” He sits down at the edge of the bed and reaches out across the sheets. You’re too late to pull your feet to yourself before he has one in his hand. He doesn’t do much but stroke it. “But you can.”
The sincerity in his eyes makes you want to gouge them out. It’s all been some cruel joke ever since you moved in—all the pleasantries and presents, as if trying to distract you from the past. Your wardrobe is chockfull of it, and so is Junior’s room—filled to the brim with lies.
“I’m never gon’ hurt you.” Another lie. “I did you wrong once, and I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for it.”
You want to shake your head, laugh in his face—anything to reject it. But you’re terrified of what he might do if you didn’t play along. The threat of losing Junior is enough to make you cooperative.
“I know I’ve not been fair—pushin’ you into all of this so fast.” He gets down on his knees on the floor as if praying, right down beside you. “I took advantage of a vulnerable situation ‘cause I’m an impatient asshole—but I promise you—” He takes your hand in both of his. “If you give me the chance, I’m gon’ make our lives together like somethin’ outa’ a fuckin’ fairytale—all that happily ever after shit and more, just like you always wanted.”
The kiss he presses upon your knuckles beckons goosebumps to rise all across you. All his words feel like a bad script read by an even worse actor—in fact, this whole thing feels like a prank. And still, it doesn’t surprise you—he’s been laughing at you ever since you were children.
And now, laughing still, only with a fucking ringbox in his hand.
“I want Junior to see us as a united front. I don’t want him askin’ question why we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed, why we fight behind locked doors, why you cry in the bathroom.”
He pops the black velvet lid and reveals something so outrages it almost looks tacky lying there in a plush bed of red silk.
“I want us to be happy.” He picks the little thing out and holds it up between his thumb and index, still holding your hand in the other. “I want us to be real.” You can almost see your life flash before your eyes as it threatens your ring finger. “Let’s make us real.”
You don’t say anything as he eases the tiny hoop on, sliding it all the way back until it sits snugly right at your knuckle—dazzling in the dark. A tiny tear slips down your cheek—equally dazzling.
He played some with the digit—a smile on his face.
“Looks good on you, Mrs.” As he calls you by his last name you almost shake the ring off as if it burned to wear, but it all gets lost when he rushes forward and locks his lips with yours.
You yelp against his mouth, kept from turning away by the large hand holding your jaw, threatening to seize your throat and squeeze. You remember how it had felt. You don’t want more of a reminder, so you intercept his tongue with yours before he forced it down your throat.
He groans at the warm welcome, and your entire body shudders in memory.
You hadn’t let anyone touch you since that time five years ago. It had left a poor taste in your mouth, and the hunger for it had never come back.
You choke it down now as he climbs on top.
BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks
JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#yandere boyfriend#boyfriend#boyfriend scenarios
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Be So Stupid - S.R
a/n: this has been sitting in my WIPs for so long and i finally finished it! now going to reward myself with online shopping xoxo
kind of inspired by when jj and reid split up in season 2 i think? when morgan was kinda being rude to her but i picture like season 12-13 spence
masterlist
pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: you make a mistake while on a case nearly getting spencer killed, morgan has some choice words and spencer is ready to beat his ass over it
warnings: morgan being a little shit simply for the plot, mention of spencer almost dying, spencer being a protective king pussy boss
wc: 1.4k
How could you be so stupid?
Those were the words that had been on replay, a constant loop, for the past two days. It's because, somewhere inside, you knew Morgan was justified in what he said. How could you have been so stupid to split up with Spencer at the unsubs house?
He was taken by the unsub, a trigger pull away from death. But the team got there, and he was okay. He was alive and breathing and healthy, and you tried to focus on these facts when your chest tightened with that familiar agonizing twinge.
It was a relief not to face anyone afterward. As soon as you got home from the case, you holed yourself up in your apartment, obsessively dissecting the events until the recollections twisted your insides with a nauseating sense of dread. You had run through every potential scenario in your head, agonizing over the grim outcomes if you hadn't arrived when you did.
You would've never forgiven yourself.
So here you were, hiding out in Penelope's lair, doing your paperwork. You convinced yourself it wasn't hiding; rationalizing it as a need for more peace and quiet than the bullpen could offer. You knew it was bullshit, and so did Garcia.
"Just so you know, I'm fully prepared to kick his ass on your behalf," she announced, swiveling to face her monitors, the ribbons in her hair trailing her movement like colorful comets. "It was totally uncalled for. Everyone agrees."
"Everyone?"
"Well, okay, not Spencer, but that's only because he doesn't know," Garcia continued, her pen tapping a silent code against her cheek, followed by the clack of keys. "If he did, he'd definitely kick his ass."
"I don't know about that," you said, repeatedly stretching and releasing the hair tie around your wrist, each snap a self-inflicted reprimand.
"He called you stupid." She was shaking her head so vigorously her blonde locks tumbled into her eyes as she paused her typing to look at you. "And you, my gorgeous friend, are anything but."
"Generally speaking, sure, but this time, Pen, I really screwed up."
"Who called you stupid?"
Spencer's voice was incredibly hard to ignore, distinct—you would recognize it anywhere.
Garcia and you stopped dead, your eyes growing impossibly large as she gave you a look as if to say, Morgan is screwed.
"No one."
"Morgan."
You and Garcia blurt your words out at the same time, your voices clashing in the air. You whipped your head to Garcia, the betrayal written on your face as she only shrugged her shoulders.
"Why would he say that to you?"
Spencer's steps towards you were measured, but each one amplified your unease, you hands wringing together as you looked away. He could read you like a book, and most times that was a good thing, but today it was definitely not.
"It's really not a big deal, Spencer," you insisted, pursing you lips as you dragged your gaze up and over him. "But how about you? How are you holding up?"
You were on your feet in an instant, a little too quickly, wobbling on your heel just a tab before Spencer grabbed your elbow. You ignore his touch, or at least you try, and press the back of your hand to his forehead.
He wasn't warm, but you sure were.
"You know, I don't think you should be back at work so soon."
You weren't lying when you said that. It seemed to soon. Was he looking a little pale? You couldn't tell. He should be home.
His hand was suddenly around your wrist, soft but firm, easing you away from his forehead, his eyes narrowing at you.
"Hey, I'm alright." He was trying to be assuring, offering a faint smile that only served to make your stomach do backflips. "Really, I am."
His fingers frapped around your wrist, not quite letting go, as he directed his attention to Garcia. "Why did he say that to her?"
"I'm right here," you grumbled under your breath, but Spencer was paying you no mind.
"I'm aware," Spencer answered without looking at you as his hands found their way to your shoulders, thumbs tracing absent patterns on your skin. "But you are not providing any answers."
Garcia cut in, folding her arms over her chest as her eyes pinned you with an unspoken accusation. "He said it because you two split up on the case."
Her words seemed to thicken the air itself, snatching away the previous ease as Spencer's expression darkened. It was a new and unsettling sight--the tightness in his jaw, the faint crease in his brows, and the steely sharpness in his eyes.
Without uttering a single syllable, he spun on his heel and strode out the door. You didn't hesitate to chase after him, an inkling of his destination propelling you forward. The look on his face had planted a seed of fear about what he was going to do.
Sure enough, there he was, just as you anticipated, in the middle of the bull pit. His gaze locked on Morgan with a laser-like precision, like a hawk eyeing its prey.
"How could you say that to her?" His voice was jagged, hands thumping against Morgan's shoulders in a way that you frantically looked around for Hotch. "What? Were you trying to make her feel bad? What's the matter with you?"
"Easy, Spencer, what are you getting at?" Morgan's hands went up defensively. But when Spencer's eyes flickered to you, the puzzle pieces clicked into place. "Oh..."
Morgan's eyes found yours. "Come here, sugar."
Morgan was your friend, a good one at that, and you really didn't blame him for what he said. He had good intentions. But here in the bullpen being open and exposed you found yourself stalling, glancing towards Spencer.
Only after he gave you a nod did you take that tentative step forward, clammy palms running down your pants as you stood in front of Morgan.
"Look, I was out of line. Calling you stupid was stupid of me," he started, hand grabbing on your upper arm as he spoke. "We've all been in tough spots and I was an asshole for adding to the pressure instead of helping you through it."
And you knew he meant it, even if it took Spencer nearly coming to blows to bring it about.
"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it, Morgan. And it was my fault really, for not staying with Spencer."
"First off, we made that call together, so if anyone's at fault, it's both of us," Spencer reminded, his hand settling on your lower back as he moved closer to you. His gaze then drilled into Morgan. "And second, Morgan, she's too nice. I say you owe her a month's work of paperwork at least."
You opened your mouth to object, but Morgan cut you off, his hand on your shoulder stopping me mid-breath. "After what I said? I'll do you one better--I'll handle your paperwork for two months."
He was gone before you could even thank him, making his way towards the break room, leaving you and Spencer.
"Hey, look at me." You did, raising your eyes to meet his. "What happened on that last case—it's not on you. We made a call, and we did it with the best intentions. It's not your fault."
He regarded you so... softly. It stirred a flutter of goosebumps across your skin, your hands rubbing up and down your arms as if to smooth away the sensation.
"Seeing you in that situation, so close to..." You paused, drawing in a ragged breath as the sickening memories came flooding back. "I can't help but feel responsible. It's a tough guilt to shake."
He rearranged a lock of hair behind your ear.
"It's a cognitive distortion to assume sole responsibility, but that's just your brain tricking you." Taking your hand he pressed it over his heart. "A human heart beats over two billion times in a lifetime. And every beat right now is telling you, I'm all good."
You could feel his heartbeat—thump, thump—against your palm. You caught yourself wanting to know what it would be like to fall asleep to the sound.
You were so close to each other now, the distance, or lack thereof, slightly overwhelming. "You're all good?"
He gave your hand a squeeze. "I'm all good."
You remained motionless, hand pressed to his chest, wondering if your heart could ever beat in sync with his.
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath
#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x fem reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid#dr reid#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic
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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.
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.
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.
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.
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...
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.
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#thistle#delgal#yaad#eodio#winged lion#meta#long post#aphelion.txt#dunmeshi#sorry. i am so incredibly not normal about any of it
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BABYLON
m reader x sana // 26k words
Almighty hand to God, there had been much, much worse situations to get yourself stuck in.
If there’s any sort of consolation to fall back on, you’d wish that you’d say something earlier, call this off with a simple push and shove on the way out the door, close it and wrap up nicely with no worry filling your mind.
It’s not that easy, though.
Never was to begin with.
Not when you have the lights off in your study, the sound of laughs downstairs surrounding the dining table, really fucked how you’ve hidden away from everyone else - also wanting to at the same time because all of them would have the same thread of thoughts running through their head if they saw you at the front of your desk with another body pressed towards you.
“Don’t get so worked up,” Sana tells you, lips fast across your neck while her singular hand is well deep into the grip of your shaft. You could feel her breath slip through the opening when her lips are back on yours, the taste of her is already addicting the more she leans, a hand in her hair trying to give more, fighting, but losing drastically.
What you give, Sana takes. That’s usually how it works in most cases like these with her. You can’t stop, you won’t stop. It’s already difficult to break away once she’s lowering your inhibitions without the use of alcohol.
“Maybe I should deal with you right now instead of later,” you tell her, hiding the smallest hint of worry when your hands find Sana’s hips. She’s proud of the sigh she lets out against your mouth when pulling away before you’re quick to drag her back in. “Let the whole world below know of the things you’re doing to me right now?”
You won’t stop giving in, because Sana gets you. Just like that.
“Have them screaming in shock when you bend me over the desk fucking me?” Sana asks, a tempting offer above a whisper at that. It also doesn’t help that she’s giggling at the thought of you doing exactly what she proposes. “Sounds hot,” she says, huskily, “because I know you would.”
This was never supposed to happen. Hell, this was the last thing you expected to happen. All of the possibilities in repercussions start flowing through your head again because this was definitely not the first time you’ve surrendered yourself to Sana’s advances, nor that you didn't want to.
She’s like quick sand, pulling you from underneath into the catacombs of temptations that would have Satan himself impressed if he could see you right now. Or how this woman at her fingertips is breaking down every last bit of rational support running through your brain just so that she can draw out the rasps of desperation to get her screaming, shuddering.
You could lower the flag and raise up the drawbridges - it’s so easy to do. She’s playing all of her cards right, knowing that your hand would never stack up against hers.
Forget calling a bluff in this house of cards, since the only play you have in your book is to fold.
–
You see, the events that happened before the wildfire were relatively tame.
Nothing but wins coming left and right in the avenue of your life. Speaking of avenues, there’s this newly acquired house (all thanks to your surprisingly good credit score) alongside this block that has a new occupant–
“Babe, the place is amazing!” Dahyun exclaims out, arms around your neck once you and her finally make it past the front porch, taking in the high ceilings and matte layout of the new space. All of this wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the countless days and hours of work to achieve this milestone. You’ll be proud of yourself for settling down while others may be working for bigger goals and ambitions.
(A minor correction: two new occupants.)
The house itself is in a nice area. Not too far from the city, in a pretty well modest community, alongside the hills. Detailing is pretty modern: four bedrooms, three bathrooms, two stories, kitchen was renovated before signing off the lease, ideas for rooms themselves are already drafting from Dahyun’s pinterest board. Knowing that your wife has some good taste, it wasn’t worth deliberating over. You’ve gone through the gauntlet of places in different areas: beachside, close by to your cousins, one was also about a two hour trip away from the city, there’s also this high rise apartment that would’ve been a perfect choice though it never happens.
There’s some scattered boxes here and there still, but most of the things are already in place from the whole moving process. Aside from all the heavy lifting and not wanting to stain the ring on your finger from the dust and oil when the truck broke down on one of four trips, the beauty of being able to be grounded by the tune of Dahyun’s laughs and witty banter when you’re trying to catalog and take inventory of the things that will be kept and what’s going up for the garage sale you plan to have within the next week or so.
“I’m just glad that we finally got it over with.” You put her down, eyes overseeing the view past the spacious living room, as well as the boardwalk-esque deck housing the pool right outside. “Absolute hell trying to get the final documents signed, but finally.”
“I’m so proud of you honey,” Dahyun tells you, hand to your cheek with the most reassuring look that she’s known for giving in your times of crisis. “Had I known that we’d actually get the house after almost signing off on the last place with Jeongyeon–”
“Our luck was pretty much cut out for us,” you amend, though she’s not thinking of the ‘what could’ve been’ - since the here and now was all that mattered to Dahyun. You wanted this, and she did too. The agreement was not hard to fight over; sights were set, end of discussion.
“We should give our credit to Jeongyeon for referring us to this place,” Dahyun starts again, trailing off with hands behind her back, chin up when she walks in deeper. Her gaze turns back to you, leaning on the pillar when you’re staring up at the intricate set of lights hanging over the couch. “Didn’t you say this listing was about to be taken down at the last minute?”
“Almost,” you answer, hugging Dahyun again with your nose in her hair, “Gladly got the call as soon as I found out.”
Dahyun twists around, arms circling her waist, pulling her closer under your touch. She’s happy, giddy when the tip of your nose is nuzzling hers for a quick second. Cliché, corny even, but you’re in love and she’s in love - something that the new home will be more filled with for years to come.
“Shouldn’t we empty out the rest of the remaining boxes?” you ask her, hands curling inward on the small of her back, leaning in slowly for the softness of her fingertips across your face, the plushness of her lips on yours.
This was a brand new start, a turn of the page in the livelihood of things, one act onto the next.
–
Here’s the thing about new beginnings, most of these aspects are supposed to be taken in a positive light.
Most of the time.
The subject of change itself is frightening, can make someone anxious at times because of the uncertainty of how things would play from here on out. Naturally, it’s normal for human beings to feel like this - this daunting notion in being uncomfortable because of this collective notion of ‘being stuck in the past’ or ‘to relive the glory days’. Nostalgia is believed to be one of the great unsaid drugs that everyone takes unknowingly without even realizing it.
Luckily, you’re not facing things alone around these parts of life now.
Kim ‘the introverted but somewhat still a social butterfly’ Dahyun has this effect on others that makes her extremely likable. Hell, if it weren’t for that characteristic, the ring on her finger wouldn’t have been there in the first place. She just has this quintessential quirk of just being able to click with others like it's nothing, almost as if she’s known someone she’s just met for more than five years.
It’s an art in itself to admire, a playlist of clips in your mind that you’ll keep replaying over and over whenever the instance occurs.
You’re willing to be a people person while she does it effortlessly.
Not even a week after getting settled in, Dahyun was already getting acquainted with the nearby neighbors opposite and adjacent to your place while you’re busy getting the groceries in (since one or two trips are always the priority for the efficiency of less work.)
If you’re looking at your new house from the street and inwards, the home on your left is owned by Jihyo. She’s lovely, adventurous, mostly in and out of the house on a daily basis. You lean an ear into the conversation while Dahyun’s getting her small garden going that Jihyo was also a pilates coach, the hint taken with the amount of lululemon products she wears and has in her closet in the brief exchanges of hello’s and head nods. In the next house over to the right, there was Chaeyoung’s place. Dahyun tells you over dinner a few nights ago that Chaeyoung is this underground indie artist that’s hardly home because of her tour scheduling and the fact that she’s in London for her Europe leg on the calendar, but was home for a quick break since her brother just came back from the mandatory military service.
“You know, when I first looked into this cul de sac, I didn’t expect to live next to a considerable amount of celebrities.” you say, tending to the raw set of patties spread across the grill while the backyard of your house was transformed to this small, homey, kickback-style of a housewarming party with nearly everyone invited along the street. “Too early to say I’ve hit the jackpot?”
“Please,” Jihyo starts, the cup of bourbon in her hand swirling while the smoke is up in the air, “I think you think too highly of this community a lot.”
“Everyone has something special going on around here, which is nice.”
“A silent observer,” she murmurs at you, “Dahyun likes that about you, the ability to read people. You could honestly pass that as your hidden talent.”
“I may not be a people person like her, but if the conversation persists–”
“He has no problem slotting himself into it like it’s nothing.” Dahyun says over your shoulder, arm snaking your middle while she’s pressing a kiss into the blend of your shirt while you’re flipping burgers on the clock. “The best at it too.”
Even through the shades of your glasses, you lean over with Dahyun scooching to your left. A white bucket hat is all you see through the lens that’s shielding the top of her head with the monochrome scheme she has with her dress and shirt. Simplicity at its finest with the way she swipes your drink for a quick clink with Jihyo’s before downing it after.
There’s this mix of food and drinks being dished out, there’s a lot of simple activities spread out across the yard. Some people are in the pool with White Claws on the cupholders of the floaties, another group is playing spikeball that one of them brought over for more variety with the hoop on the outer rim of the boardwalk, the set table for beer pong, and essentially some others that were scribbled off the shopping list.
You’re weaving in and out of different groups throughout the houseparty - the role of being the host of the party really shows with the amount of times you’ve checked in with everyone in the span of ten to fifteen minutes. It’s all in good graces really, to set a solid first impression while the ambience really sets everyone into a mood. Cooling down once the sunset hits, and all of a sudden the influx of drinks being passed around might be mistaken as a frat party.
Aside from the inquiries of passing more drinks, you’ve noticed the stigma that’s seeping through the guest’s faces when you’re indulging in conversations, a hierarchy of sorts. And when they see you get cozy in the seat, that’s when the questions occur.
Mina, the person living in the house on the opposite side of your street asks: so what’s your daytime occupation, if you don’t mind me asking?
Quick on the draw, you answer: Currently working in data science from the comforts of my home. Oh, and I also dabble with a little bit of history to a minor stance.
“The world doesn’t thank enough people who aren’t willing to move for a charitable cause.” Her tone is nonchalant, almost flat. That simple black dress she’s wearing, the outline of her figure that may look unreal at first glance, the way her leg is folded on top that signifies that she’s all class, a tilt of her head that has you leaning back ever so slightly. “Are you this some sort of- house husband then? Given the way you’ve been tending to us around the party so far?”
“God no,” you answer, hand up in defense while you’re casually leaning for the unattended cup of Lager that was brought in by Jihyo’s fling? Booty call? Friend with some benefit? It wouldn’t matter since he’s athletic enough to have his own chain of gyms as a fine investment. “Call me a clean freak, but I get by with my duties around the new place.”
“What does Dahyun do again?” Lisa, another neighbor just a few houses down chimes in, “You said that she’s–”
“A corporate lawyer,” you say, catching Dahyun in your peripheral view who’s laughing with another guest that seemed to just make their way into the late afternoon. Hand to the back of your head while racking it, “She’s pretty damn good at her job too.”
You get a collective nod from the two women when you keep your mouth partly open with a tongue nicking the inside of your bottom lip. Logistically, Dahyun was a key counterpart in her firm, the way that she’s her bosses’ right hand when it comes to finishing off deals whether the fact it came down to mergers or closing cases. She’s always one to speak her mind, not willing to play nice or by the book.
Generally, a lawyer’s job tends to be stressful at times, given the unhealthy hours depending on what lands on her desk first thing when she walks in, early or not. If Dahyun needs some downtime, you’d give it to her - something about it that she coined you to be her sleeping pill.
(Kinda funny, though.)
However, there was this whole ordeal of some big litigation incident with one of the firm’s associated parties. Something about the high ranking chairman and close member convicted of fraud and if the press found out about it, the whole door gets blown up and it turns into an absolute shit show. Dahyun’s boss had her spearhead the whole thing and as a big token of appreciation, she managed to get time off.
The apartment prior was starting to get a little bit cramped, so she brought up the idea of moving while eating out for lunch one afternoon and that was that.
Explains how the house acquisition was more simple to deal with, considering how you’re good with numbers and finances, but that’s all to know.
Tech savvy, is what Mina tells you, taking out of it with a margarita in her hand while you raise your cup in acknowledgement, breaking away from the set of couches around the makeshift bonfire pit. Ever the sentry, unintentional but it’s what a good party host does to get to know new faces, right?
Like the ping pong ball on the table, you’re bouncing around the backyard again, avoiding the splash zone of the pool when you slide across the makeshift bar of different varieties of drinks off to the right of the sliding door, cups riddled both half full and empty that’ll have to be dealt with eventually later, or in the next morning - whichever one happens first. A frame of mind falls into the same habit, picking up the clutter for a bit before you could treat yourself to another choice of booze or wine you’ll fish out of the kitchen once done.
Nothing would prepare you for the extra set of small hands swooping in the table to keep tight on the slack.
She seems familiar, not long term familiar, but something that you’ve caught yourself having a double take at for a quick second only to forget a couple seconds later. A quick spike of the heartbeat, that’s also something that you’re very torn on in that moment - running back a necessary subroutine in your memory banks to check that you’re - well, you.
“I take you’re the guy Dahyun was praising about.” she says, her voice cheery with that simple but sly smile of hers that’s stabbing daggers into your heart. “Find it hard to believe that you’re her husband, actually.”
The solo cups slide in smoothly, placing it back in the respective stack while this girl is tending to the crushed water bottles and cans in that small plastic bag she’s putting them in. A small contribution at that, but a helpful gesture that you’ll indirectly accept once the plastic is tied and in the bin.
“And what are you trying to say?” you start, arm bearing your hand when you stand square across from her. “Was it everything that you hoped to expect?”
Unbuttoned baseball jersey, those high top sneakers and short shorts giving a slight peek into her figure from the down up. Her tank top also raised enough to show her toned midsection that looks tapered and detailed. Casual, you think, perfect for the summer vibe that you could honestly put a lei over her neck and all of a sudden this party is a fucking luau.
“Hon!” a voice calls out to you in the distance, approaching you and the girl from the other side of the yard. When that person gets closer, it turns out to be Dahyun who immediately grins at the sight of you looking all curious. “Oh! Good, I’ve managed to get you two both together.”
“But you didn’t do anything.”
“Who said that I was the one to start it?”
“Coming from the person who’s all for taking the credit for herself.”
“Always the pleaser,” the girl laughs out loud, Dahyun closing in with her fingers intertwining with hers. There’s history to them - not even a second thought to track back, it’s all there right in front of you to see. It also clicks in your head that this girl was also the same one that Dahyun was gleefully excited to see back in your sit-in with Mina and Lisa.
The exchange of happy glances abruptly stops when Dahyun catches you with an arched brow, looking for answers, and to this she just smiles downward because how could she forget with the formalities, it’s silly. “Babe, I’d like you to meet Minatozaki Sana, one of my closest friends since college.”
“Sana,” you say, and when the syllables reverberate past the oral cavity and into the air, it rolls off the tongue nicely. “I see, friend of Dahyun’s?”
“Indeed I am,” she says, extending her hand as a peaceful offering - not even realizing the turmoil that’s running through your head while hiding it effortlessly. The way her hand fits in yours, her whole body looks delicate like she’s handmade with God’s well crafted time; she’s also a few inches taller than Dahyun (by two for the accurate calculation), you’ve got Dahyun to mold into the threads of the mattress and now imagine–
“I was wondering who was getting Dahyun a bit excited at the gate when you came in,” you say as you’re pouring yourself another cup of brandy this time, since the other drinks were relatively tame for your high alcohol tolerance. “Now with a face to the name, I gotta say, you’re pretty likable already.”
Bottom line, it’s really curious to act this way. Clearly, you’re smiling at the fact that she’s standing there with her arms crossed, you’ve placed your cup down filling the next one, because another wouldn’t hurt.
So how did you and Dahyun meet, you say - palm flat on the foldable table that sends the drinks sloshing slightly at the change in stable weight. I would assume that the story in itself is an interesting one, I hope?
Sana and Dahyun have this exchanging look between the two of them, the infatuation of how their minds are interlinked. These two have been through everything, despite the differences in majors and fields of work - the bond that they have is admirable. “What do you know about me that Dahyun has told you?”
“Whatever that wasn't ordinary already,” you reply. “What also boggles my mind is that–”
“If she told you about the time I almost had to blow my professor to give me a passing grade, she’s dead wrong. It never happened.” That star-stricken grin that has you pouting slightly and rolling your eyes because her answer has you completely way off of left field.
Not that, you add on but-hmm it can only make you wonder of the kinds of things that happened in that period of youth, before Dahyun came along into your life albeit a simple nudge of the shoulder while passing between working schedules. A part of the script of life that’s rewritten in itself and jesus - it’ll sit in the comfy nook of your brain while it sends your heart and gut flipping in all directions.
Let that be a new doc or spreadsheet for you to graph out in your mind, because there’s a lot to compute and learn into getting this right.
–
So it actually turns out that Sana’s the next door neighbor living on the left of your house. She just wasn’t there during the whole moving process before the housewarming party because like Mina, Sana was out and about seeing the world - something about putting some miles in her life trying to cross off one or two things off the bucket list, maybe more.
There’s only some noticeable details to keep track of in a few:
* Said somewhere along the lines of having a fear of heights? Lost a bet to her cousin and went skydiving to get over it.
* Well-spoken, considering that she was in Dahyun’s undergrad cohort before she had a change of heart in her choice of major, leading towards the pipeline of communication studies or working with kids, cute.
* She’s an only child in the family and very accepting of the fact of having a big house to herself (since Juile, her housemate who was also paying for half of the place but hardly around to live inside and still depositing the rent when it was time). Lonely, one might say out of sympathy but that would be undermining her success till now.
* Oh, and that story of her blowing her professor to get a passing grade? Hard to believe how it’s true and very similar to a common storyline you’ve surfed incognito on the internet before.
“Look,” and she says this with a whole hearted laugh when you’re behind her and Dahyun walking out of the side gate. “It was only a one time thing, I swear and plus,” you’re having flash of doubt when Dahyun looks over, and you’re terrible at hiding it because it’s in your eyes, a shake of the head in disbelief when Sana’s shoulders slouch, “we were sophomores that hated that fuckass professor so much, I was willing to take the fall.”
“And you did, but thank god there’s no proof of documentation that recounts such events like those, right? Right?”
A prompting cough deviates the ongoing conversation, “I assume that everything was handled then?” To this, Sana nods - right hand swearing under oath, smiling earnestly with those eyes of hers, left hand supporting her elbow. She’s distracting with how her tank top peeks out with her chest open slightly. In the court of law, she could never get away with testifying let alone convince the grand jury. “I mean, what would happen if there was something that’s sizable enough to damage your image of being this good-willed human being?”
“Then everyone would watch the world burn if that were the true, but I’m cautious of my digital footprint, always making sure that my track record is clean.”
(She’s in the same pedigree as Mina, Lisa, and pretty much everyone that’s occupying the boulevard: poised, casual, stable, know themselves all too well to get what they want - because they always do, it’ll have your head turning from the moment they walk in to when they leave the table. Dahyun gave you the brief rundown about her circle of friends; they’re good people, not wanting to let the finer things of life get to them, stay true to their words, grounded even.)
It’s how the amber light of your garage door shines above that gives Sana this radiating shade of copper in her hair. You’d offer to walk her back to her place if it wasn’t just a few steps away. Better yet, Dahyun would’ve permitted you to do so if you were to ask right now, but it’s fine. The grace period of life works in mysterious ways, funny how this sense of nostalgia comes back when you see two lovely girls play the game of catch-up, hugging after not seeing each other for a couple years.
Tuning back in to the image:
“I’m baffled you’ve managed to land a house like this, especially with your money and the amount of back breaking work you do on a daily basis. Twenty trials? You’re a fucking workaholic.”
The pair of them laugh together, it’s really heartwarming to listen.
Still,
“-plus the extended vacation time you just got-” Sana sounds like a kid on the last days of school trying to come up with a multitude of things to waste time while Dahyun just listens to her rambling; eyes curving up with stupid smiles and the head tilts as if the secrets being exchanged are not meant to be spoken of to others, they look good together, wow. Have we checked the calendar if it’s Pride month still?
When they turn toward you, the actions seem unreal to register. Dahyun’s monolids contrast Sana’s double eyelids, the way Sana’s eyes especially look almond like. Her smile is a little smaller compared to Dahyun’s and when they’re just freely cuddling each other without any spite of jealousy beneath it.
They’re leaving you dumbfounded, consider yourself to be humbled.
Sana breaks the hug first before she lets out an overreaching hand for you to shake. You’ll admit on another given day to Dahyun that Sana’s pretty, the small pull hinting at her smile all the more reason to give a positive outlook for first impressions that will also have you wondering how in the hell isn’t she in a relationship yet. Overkill when she does the line with her eyes while keeping the same smile when mirroring Dahyun’s expression, too.
“Same number as always?” Dahyun asks, clinging onto her hand like she’s going away for a sizable amount of time. “I got nothing for the next couple of weeks.”
“I’ll just walk over and ring the doorbell, don’t bother.” Sana’s answer is optimistic, and you’re hoping she’ll stick to her word because you’re willing to break the lines, the yellow tape at the scene, and ignore the lines of ink blacked out for confidentiality assurance.
You and Dahyun say good night, and she’s just happily bouncing along the sidewalk into her own front yard.
“She likes you, by the way.” Dahyun tells you, slotting herself right underneath your right arm while you’re squinting to see absolutely nothing in the darkness, not even tuned in to what your wife was telling you. A few sweeps of looks across the street pass and you’re rubbing warmth on her shoulder, only to nudge your head slightly to finally hear.
“Sana’s…interesting.” you say, blinking, looking down at Dahyun’s gaze before your eyes shoot away scouring for something else to eye at in the short meantime before a light slap to the stomach sends you snorting out of the quick annoyance. “Hey, based on how she acted, I would’ve thought she’d be anything but ordinary.”
“She’s done some stupid shit, that’s for sure.” Dahyun signs to her own admission, seeing it first hand of the stories that were told an hour ago. “Though, she’s gotten better once I convinced her to see things in a different perspective.”
“Could’ve passed as a good lawyer if you asked me.”
“Please tell me that’s satirical.”
“Wasn’t planning to say, but I guess it just happened.”
A close of the gate and up the steps into the front door, easy to say that getting yourself settled in for once in your life doesn’t seem to be that bad of an idea. The plans themselves are just getting started, drawing them up on the itinerary sometime later this week will get a number of things going.
–
Apparently nobody saw this coming, and let this be an error in the calculations because evidently, this whole ‘summer in the hamptons’ type thing was about to be undermined entirely.
Turns out on the following day, Dahyun gets this business call at around three in the morning, and the phone just keeps vibrating on the nightstand. She eventually lets you off slumbering with the lamp on while she goes to the couch to hear what her boss was egging on about for what you think would be a short call, but it wasn’t.
What you eventually find out hours later is that Dahyun was called in to help play defense in this big lawsuit that was deemed to be ‘the second coming of the Watergate Scandal’. God, those news anchors and journalists need to do a better job of nailing the creative writing aspect because it was just fucking awful when they’re reporting it at eight in the morning after. Apparently you’re also reading an article online on your desktop about Dahyun’s firm coming under fire for a sizable client that’s been doing murky deals behind their backs that would not only jeopardize one branch of the corporate relationship, but all the potential deals that have yet to be signed. It’s a mess. Though, work shouldn’t even be the thought since Dahyun’s pulling out all of these boxes that were related to this case out all over the dining room table that she has to bring back to her office and whatever was on the menu for the boat party next week that you’re having with close family and friends was about to be canceled.
And this has happened on many occasions, but if it involved Dahyun or anything related to the law firm she holds dearly to her heart (of course, you’re first, obviously) the support in her endeavor would always be important to protect.
“I just hoped that they were able to handle this quietly, and without my help.” You’re dipping your head down to spit the last taste of mint from your mouth. Dahyun leans forward on the sink with her ankles crossed, wearing one of your shirts blinking dutifully, quite zoned out while her hand is over your hamstring, tapping it gingerly.
“Well if that were the case, then they would’ve called you in anyway.” You say, raising an eyebrow with the tinge of mouthwash cycling in and out when you spit again. “So much for having your rewarded vacation time.”
Dahyun leans back against the mirror when she’s putting her hair up in this messy bun. She looks a little more relaxed compared to the ragged breaths down your ear when your cock was buried inside her, clinging to your neck while that vicious upstroke of your hips sends her absolutely blown out. The look she gives with her pleading eyes when you take the toothbrush out of her mouth, washing it after she leans over to spit out the toothpaste before handing a washcloth for you to wipe yourself with. “You think I shouldn’t go.”
“Wasn’t really bringing that up for you to consider, but judging how this looks from the outside in, I’d say it’s pretty bad.”
“You’re really not helping my train of thought here,” she sighs, hands bearing her waist, the crinkles of your shirt on her subtly showing that petite frame, the image itself recorded in your memory banks loads of times - each one just like the first, if not better.
Sliding over a few inches to where she sits there idly, your hands placed on the outer rim where her knees bend over the marble counter. She doesn’t change her posture when you’re looking her in the eyes trying to get a read on what her next move might be. Still elegant as ever, Dahyun will always put this appearance on even when it's the simple domestic life she’s living.
Energy levels are still high, and the initial action was to get back to watching this sappy rom-com kdrama that bored Dahyun to the point where she slipped a hand inside your sweatpants just to ‘spice things up a bit’. Once the prompted question of are you still watching appears on the screen after minutes of inactivity, no point in answering it while she’s happily fucking herself over you while you’re sprawled across the satin sheets, gripping into her perfect waist with the sound of her hips with yours bouncing off the new walls.
When’s the flight? You ask her, hand sliding up her thigh slowly. I could put in a word for your associate to get that done, save the trouble. Inevitably, the jaws of justice will soon swallow her up again when she manages to break free from the shackles of court orders and depositions.
“First thing at nine,” she answers, fingers tugging at the midpoint of where the seam of your shirt and the waistband of your sweats meet. “Got some things to pack up soon, but I think most of the papers and boxes won’t be a lot for me to carry on the quick plane trip back.”
“Crazy that they get paid for a short flight from upstate.”
“In addition to the fact that they’re also on my dad’s payroll.”
“A plus I might admit.” you muse.
Dahyun shifts her gaze from right to left, spreading her legs wider when you scoot her hips up to meet yours. The hum of satisfaction that she gives when your eyes flick up to see that rosy shade of pink plastered across her face, eyes waiting, honing on something that she subjects that will be given to her. Precision was one of her key strengths, but when that’s used against her, it’s a completely different story.
When she tugs a little bit more on your undershirt to lift, she usually does so with this sense of security - like a kind of clinginess that you won’t have any sort of complaint against. You’ve understood it to a degree. Whether you’re dropping by the office of the firm or being dragged into the kitchen after sitting on your chair for hours and hours doing analytics and business calls, moments like these with Dahyun are always something to behold. Considerably, you don’t mind giving into her needs for attention; in fact, you’re willing to do that without even thinking twice.
“So,” Dahyun prompts with this sultry voice of hers, clueless and innocently - as if she has no idea what she’s doing to you. With her (your) shirt rumpled all over her body, those pretty eyelashes, her creamy thighs, the way that her fingers are grazing the elastic of both your sweats and boxers, you begin to assess the conditions when you’ve nestled yourself in between her knees, some water staining the gray cotton when you finally lean closer. “How are you gonna handle yourself while I’m gone?”
“I think you’ll lay the severance package,” you say, not giving any faltering sense when she’s ghosting her set of fingertips on the right hand across your chest. “If there’s damages to it, I don’t mind paying up.”
“Non-compete or NDA,” Dahyun huffs, lifting the outer seam of the shirt past her hips, showing the opening underneath where her pussy is glistening with her slick, awaiting your end of the bargain, this non-verbal agreement where she knows that you’ll always deliver the requests and offers. “Besides, you still owe me.”
Laughing, you do recall the statement. It’s funny - there’s a trade off throughout the day earlier where you’re awoken to her warm mouth, deepthroating your cock that leaves you with these sharp inhales. The way her jaw slacks of how she sucks, the mix of spit lathering all over your length while she’s bobbing away between your thighs at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. Even after Dahyun takes care of the morning wood situation, you pay her back by eating her pussy freely on the kitchen counter as the logical option to keep yourselves occupied while waiting for the oatmeal. There’s no competition between the two of you of who makes the other cum the fastest, the hardest, let alone how many rounds can you do in a day; it really just boils down to this one simple look, a push-pull that sends the neurons firing away automatically - fucking each other ‘just because’ to put it simply.
This girl on the bathroom sink, slouching, head against the mirror still while your hands finally snake under her shirt, feeling the unbelievable midsection under the breasts when she lowers her eyes, leaning up for the touch of your lips.
Every kiss, stolen or prolonged, each one always has the flaps in your heart opening. She’s yours.
Tender at first, but then the heat gets raised up when her arm hooks onto your waist, fighting the slipping tongue that’s breaking away for a slight second in her mouth. Her hands are also grasping for any kind of reach for her to clutch on, no luck for it when she finally takes her fingers into your hair, not wanting to pull away.
Dahyun does this little whine after the quick inhale of air when you slip a finger or two inside her bare cunt, testing the waters as she bites her lip in anticipation. “Don’t do that now,” she spits. That obscene noise coming out of her instantly after when she bucks her hips forward again, accidentally curling a finger in her warm cunt that makes her look away from your intense gaze. “Darling, please–”
“Use your words honey,” you whisper against her lips when you’re tugging on her bottom lip, causing her to sit up straight on the counter, slotting her arms around your neck with hands circling her waist. “Can’t really hear what you’re saying if you’re mopping my face up.”
She’s losing her sense of focus when your fingers continue to bottom out the whole length of them, filling her up and pushing deeper. It also doesn’t help when your thumb presses flat on her clit that sends her mewling at the bend. Her face is against your neck, the steady pace of those staggered breaths against your skin keeps your current operation on the clock, unraveling this line when you’re slipping in and out of her.
“Baby, baby, baby, please–” her heel locks the back of your thigh in place, hitting a kneecap on the cabinet. She’s reduced to these simple words and responses with the heavy breathing. Her hips are nearly coming off the glassy surface of the sink. The shirt’s lifted up beneath her perky mounds (and that fucking underboob is a national treasure in itself), the seal of your mouth is all over her throat: pulling, kissing, gnawing. You kinda feel bad for the concealer pack she’s gonna be using later for a brief afterthought.
Although this little contest of edging Dahyun out to cum wasn’t on the cards for tonight. You’re managing this smile when she pulls the hair tie out of her hair, letting it flow freely. This look of post-sex yet natural style that she does makes you stare in awe when you pull her hips more out at the edge, the way her elbows are propped up nicely and her legs are spread even wider. Her hand pulls the shirt higher, showing her breasts now, the preferred choice of marks that were left there as a reminder from earlier. You slip out of the sweatpants and boxers, fixed on the brushing of her bare cunt just millimeters away from dipping yourself - a teasing tip, then the first couple inches at the half - and that shudder from her hips catches you off guard.
“Yes,” Dahyun moans out that matches your sigh in perfect timing. A moment’s hesitation, replaced with the second necessary action to sink yourself into her more, parting her walls nicely, slowly, until you feel all of her wrapped around you.
She gasps, mewling, spilling out this chain of hitched breaths, “god. honey, your cock–”
It all slides out for a second. Unreal. Then you slam back into her again. Pacing was always the methodical approach, a line into the protocol when Dahyun is writhing in the drag of your cock fucking deep into her cunt, she’s biting her lip at the fact that she’s shimming her legs more out, wanting to choke herself down the length. My god, you’d love to keep the look she has on her face, lips parted at how badly she just wants you to split her in two, seeing the last hint of her pupils rolling back into her brain when you skate the palms of your hands across her stomach, clutching onto her perky breast when the tempo starts to increase.
When your hands finally nestle into the curve of her hips, they stay there. They’re already at a good place when your cock finally feels all of her, so wet, so tight. A slight throb along the length when you drag yourself out, that small pocket of air escaping before the vice seals shut again. She’s unbelievably perfect, one label off the list from your head when you’re fixed on the sight of your length disappearing inside her, head tilting forward with every stroke back in.
“You’re so - mmh,” Dahyun hitches her breath, shuddering, you could feel the rise and fall of her chest when your hand clutches her thigh. A choked out sob leaves her lips, and you’re impressed at the composure of nailing her cunt, the same spot being hit deep, even deeper, to that one area where she’s lost herself before. “Fucking big for me, this cock - feels so good-”
“Dahyun...” you hiss, shifting your hands down to the soft cushion of her ass, sinking down once again, then another, and then another, sliding her out across the counter before you’re driving her back in, this never-ending piston into the fiery pit of heat, stretching her out, twisting that nimble body of hers into your own creation, coaxing every exhale you catch from her abdomen. “Your pussy is so–”
What you meant to say was, “your pussy is so fucking tight, god damnit-” You know what, the thought can barely even be formed in your head when you meet Dahyun’s eyes, slowly fluttering shut with her teeth slowly disappearing behind her lip. That, and the feeling of her walls imploding your cock to the remnants of awareness you had left.
It’s also pretty funny to think how Dahyun was fucking herself freely over you just an hour ago, only for her to be used like this and she knows you simply can’t help yourself.
“Love, I can’t - shit,” that utterance nearly takes everything ouight of you to say; everything about it is euphoric, the way you have her legs up, bottoming her out. You look at her again, and she has her hand over her mouth, trying to fight that natural clench when your cock fills the heat inside her. “You’re so good for me, spreading yourself open like this. Fuck.”
This is a case that you’ll take to your grave, knowing all of your wife’s body so well to the point that every kiss, thrust, moan, hell even the appearance when she’s like this for you will be more than enough to last as much as possible. Dahyun knows the switch off too - aside from the fact that she’s cock drunk every single fucking time you fuck her brains out - and she loves this. You see it in her pupils, the desperation to tear all the edges apart, the signal for you to finally wreck her in the way that she wants you to.
“Don’t stop,” she begs, chest heaving heavily when her legs wrap around your waist, propping herself up for you to take her waist into your chest, letting out these songs of pleas that’s encouraging you to get to that edge first. You could feel her body going limp, the support is almost reflexive while your hips continue to pummel her out.
“You-” you try to say. Fuck. It goes everything against the directive you’ve put yourself in, the noises of your skin clashing with hers, creating this filthy yet harmonious sound that only gets more and more harder. Dahyun’s breathless moans keep you in check when your motions start to get irregular, inconsistent, keeping yourself busy with your mouth all over her chest. “God, Dahyun–”
“Do it baby,” she whispers into the cuff of your ear, “Keep fucking my pussy. Pound me like this.” Her hand does this simple action, and it’s lethal. All it took was a simple palm to your cheek, it’s filled with little meaning but carries so much intimacy. Moans and grunts continue to slip out while you search for her eyes, feeling that pull in your waist, grip tightening and loosening as you’re mindlessly thrusting. “You’re getting close for me, aren’t you?”
“Honey,” and at this point you’ve got it all spun out of control, “You feel so fucking good.”
“I know, baby.” Dahyun ignores your words of affirmation, smirking. “You know what to do.”
God. She can kill you, bring you back to life, and kill you all over again. Begging was already done before, you’ve fucked her way past her orgasm on mulitiple occasions - using her as your cumdump; doesn’t matter what time of the day or what you’re doing. The endgame was always this: having you completely fucked out in that velvety smooth pussy of hers - all wet and warm enough for you to live in.
With your teeth gritting and a final huff of air blowing past your nostrils, you cum inside her, filling her sloppy cunt all the way up.
Dahyun is sinister, it’s not up for a fair debate. When she coos and hums into your ear canal, you’re battling every urge to just wrap your fingers all over the column of her throat, use the remaining bits of pulse in your member to get her screeching. Alas, you hold yourself back while the ropes of cum are spurting around her walls, her mouth also gaping open when the fourth and fifth pulse out your cock weakly.
There’s this pause soon after, a collection of breath between the two of you that constructs a reconsideration of your choices. Dahyun has this telepathic connection with your mind that makes the connection instantaneous - you don’t say anything because there’s this one look in her eyes, hanging in the atmosphere bathed with afterglow - and she knows.
When you do slide out of her swollen cunt, there’s a considerable amount of your cum dripping out of her, slapping the tip along the outside of her folds just to tease her before retreating away entirely. The image of her legs spread out and her back laid across the sink will be saved into your memory for you to look on sometime in the future, or maybe even next week.
“So,” you mutter, shaking off the small jitters of blood loss to the head when you’re massaging Dahyun’s thighs, “Have I paid off my case in due time?”
Dahyun chuckles, a single finger raised up from the wreck beneath to get a taste, licking her lips following the fingertip. She wiggles up on her hands to sit on the counter again, hair flipped to one side while she lets the shirt fall down to cover her body, “Hate to say it, but you always do.”
“That’s good to know.”
“I’m also saying that you could use my help.”
“Ha Ha,”
“What? I’m serious.”
“I’m serious. Well so am I.” Dahyun sarcastically says, slapping your hip that makes your cock jump suddenly. You can see the dashes appear on her face when she lets out this simple smile, the eyes disappearing reflecting the same expression on her lips. She could saunter around the courtroom making a solid case for the defense, but no one would know the fact she’s all liquid putty when you have your hands on her like this. “I appreciate the thoughtful offer, but I think someone’s gotta guard the house while I handle work.”
“I’m gonna hate you by the end of this.”
“How bout you flip me over and rail my ass on the sink again?”
You’re starting to curse that concrete jungle a little more by the end of it.
–
Okay, to cut to the chase, there might’ve been a slight miscalculation that you had panned out in your head.
You switch on the TV two days later and Dahyun’s already made her way back to ground zero in the city to handle this case, where it completely spirals into an absolute shitshow. All gloves are off when the story gets released out to the public, scapegoating one of Dahyun’s board members having themselves tangled in an affair with one of the staff. Sure, it could've been an analytical approach to brush off the heat that’s only growing by the second - a shitty attempt you might also think; either way, this trial was crucial for your wife’s firm to win because in the scenario that they lose, all credibility and positive imagery surrounding them will plummet and that equals no more lawyer work for Dahyun.
She was optimistic at first while on the phone with you, talking about how this case should’ve been a cakewalk to handle, predicting the possible time period of when she should come back home to finally relax with all that hard work paid off temporarily. You’re smiling at the fact that she sounds composed, no hint of stress lying in her tone, riding on that high when you have her bucking into your hips just an hour before her private plane trip to the firm.
It’s only a matter of time before all of this blows over, you think. Not your fault also when the house feels suddenly empty in the wake of this unexpected catastrophe.
You’re hearing this definition of a fortnight. As in, Dahyun’s projected time when she could get out of the office and have someone else handle the case on her behalf. A little unusual for her to indulge in the understanding of the term itself, not while you’re making yourself dinner with the chops of onions on the cutting board and the phone being on speaker off to the right side.
“Two weeks?” you’re asking, the dice of onion cubes being skated off into the pot left to boil while stirring. “That’s a pretty big ask for you to take up with your boss.”
“Why do you think I’m hitting you with the English lesson?”
“Babe, you’re talking about a term that was used in the freaking 1800s.” you laugh, leaning back on the counter, glass of water in your hand as one of the stupid actions that most people tend to do when talking to their crush. “Would’ve been better if you just said two weeks instead of a fortnight. What do you think I am? Some kid that’s withering their life away over some video game?”
“There you go again.” She laughs out loud. You can envision the picture of her rolling her eyes at you when you spew out complete nonsense that won’t comprehend in her brain since her lifestyle doesn’t line up with it.
“Sorry,” you mutter, smirking with a dimple poking out against the touchscreen. “Seriously, when do you think you’re gonna make it back?”
“Honestly, I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon.” she admits, hearing the click of your tongue over the speaker when you’re accepting the fact that her job might potentially be on the line if she were to leave early. “I know we said two weeks, but in this case-” You can hear her stop short when she clears the lump in her throat before continuing, “This trial might drag on for who knows how long? It might be a few days, two weeks, a month? Everything is laid out for us to fail.”
“And you won’t.” you tell her, reminding the positives going forward. “Maybe it could look bad, but I’m certain that you’ll do a good enough job with what you have to work with. I’m sure of that.”
That sigh of relief you hear through the phone. Yeah, you’re right. I get it. A little reassurance goes a long way for someone in her field dealing with that kind of work - not that you would relate or somewhat imagine what it would be like to be in Dahyun’s shoes, but aside from all bad things, you know that she’s headstrong to the point where none of this should even faze her in the first place.
“You know you can’t go back to the old place, dummy.” you laugh, opening the lid of the pot that unleashes a quick cloud of steam rising above the rim. “Where are you planning on staying in the meantime while working?”
“Minju has a guest room at her place.” Dahyun answers, “I’d figured that I should tell you this, but I think she and her associate are having a little thing together.”
“And this is news to me, how?”
“Because I’ve seen him and her get a lot closer than usual.” she adds, “You do remember that we have this policy that’s strict on relationships around the office–”
“But you and I, along with some other considerable names and high-ranking figures, are the exception. I know. We’ve been over this story a bunch of times already.”
Dahyun straightens herself up on the couch over the phone, folding her legs inward on the seat, sighing, smiling. “Are you eating dinner this late?”
“Well, if you consider ten-thirty to be late to have myself a meal, then yeah, you can call that to be a late dinner.”
“Rude,” she muses. “Can’t your wife have a little bit of curiosity about your day while being alone? Missing me?”
“I guess, but there’s nothing to report on my end.”
She hums, and you can picture the pout she’s putting on whenever you give her an open ended answer that could totally be expanded on if you just put the effort into it. Dahyun knows you're lazy to an extent when it’s off work hours, and she doesn’t blame you for that. “Have you been using your hand to keep yourself occupied while I’m gone, baby?”
“Sweetie,” you chuckle, tongue against the inside part of your bottom lip when you automatically realize what she’s trying to do - what she’s trying to make you do. “No, we’re not doing this.”
“Aw, why not?”
“Because I can only do so much to keep myself sane while you’re not here.”
“Fine,” Dahyun sighs out in defeat, and you turn off the stove to let the signature dish of your mother’s pork stew cool down before you get to eating. “One last thing,” she starts, “Sana wants a favor from you while I’m not there.”
“Hmm?” you sound off, getting a small taste test of the minimal viscosity of the soup you just cooked. “What does she need help with?”
“Just some heavy lifting around her place,” Dahyun answers, yawning. “I told her that she could come by the house to get you and help with whatever she needs.”
“You’re setting me up, aren’t you.”
A soft giggle could be heard in the background on Dahyun’s end. It probably shouldn’t mean anything, but a suspicion starts formulating in the back of your head. This could mean one of two things: you’re either fucked for the potential summer, or fucked for the potential summer.
“Help Sana out tomorrow,” Dahyun instructs. “I don’t think anything bad will happen if you’re stuck with her.”
–
Turns out that Dahyun would be right when you do stand at the steps of Sana’s front door, hand at the hip while the few seconds of silence runs the possible uncertainties through your head.
A swing of the door inward: “Howdy stranger, have my pizza?”
You get a good look at her. She’s wearing these thinly rimmed glasses, the middle wire sitting nicely on the bridge of her nose. Her long sleeve hugs her shoulders nicely, tugging at the fabric while her other arm is raised on the door. The shorts are also doing a number on you internally, highlighting the ridiculously long legs that has miles and miles of skin, aside from the fact that they appear to be too short (and also pink, but fuck, man.) Cozy, homebody type of vibe, is what you end off with.
“Hey.” And this comes off as a half-choke in the fumble of words, “Dahyun said that you needed some help?”
Sana cocks her head off to the side, brows attracted inwardly, lost for a second before she fully realizes the present dilemma that she’d had happen to forget. “Oh, I did ask for a few things.”
“Fingers crossed your to-do list isn’t full?”
She does this subtle nod of her head motioning you to come inside, and you hesitate for a second, peering over past her head of brown hair to see the state of the place and here’s how it looks: everything has a very simplistic aesthetic, blank tones of the furnishings and floorboards complimenting each other the more you and her make your ways around the place. Some boxes are still present here and there, half-open, half-closed, like the items in them haven’t found their rightful place amongst the shelves and cupboards and closets between the rooms. Sana mentions also that her and Julie also have similar tastes, but given the fact that they both haven’t been in the place that often because of their work, it’s pretty disappointing to take away.
“How long have you had this house?” you ask, picking up a picture frame off one of the tables in the living room that has Sana and this other gorgeous girl leaning her head in with hers, you can’t put a name to her, but curiosity will come later when the time is right.
“Just like you, not that long actually,” Sana answers, rounding past the corner towards the kitchen when you pick up on the lasting trail of her footsteps to meet her at point B. “Julie and I only managed to settle in about a few weeks ago before she went overseas for some big movie project that she’s a part of. Other than that, it’s just been me here all by myself.”
“That doesn’t sound fun.”
“I find it calming to have a big house with multiple rooms without the sense of company.”
Your eyes trail off in the distance of this closed space. It looks barren, but rich, with the sense of presence from all of the different decorations and paintings all over the walls and tables. You might mistake this as a museum, an unplanned exhibit with your neighbor as the centerpiece of this gallery.
“So,” you start to say, arms cross when you’re watching Sana on the opposite side of the kitchen island, sipping on a glass of strawberry lemonade, looking back at you with wide eyes, those pouty lips on the rim–
She points to the set of disregarded items off to your left side behind, the same set of boxes you noticed when walking in, “I need to get these things out of there and placed around the house,” and she starts to round the area of the kitchen to get closer to you, “and my garage door needs some fixing since it won’t open for some reason”
“You really think I’m qualified to help you with the garage?” you raise an eyebrow in suspicion.
“Dahyun asked you to help me, so please, make us happy.”
–
The first meeting with Sana happens quite quickly. It should’ve ended there - a simple favor fulfilled and get on with continuing the daily routines around the house and neighborhood.
Except it doesn’t happen that way. Not when Sana catches your attention when you’re taking out the trash, watering Dahyun’s little growing garden, when you’re getting your morning and evening runs up the hill and round the block, she always seems to get you caught in her lines of sight.
You’re not against it however, taking a liking to have a quick chat with Sana about different things that were worth bringing up - it’s the simple camradire that’s developed rapidly after the housewarming party. She’s interested to see you with the garage open, finding a new thing to tinker and fix with the car (although modding a tesla would make some vehicle enthusiasts want to rip out their hair and gouge their fucking eyeballs,) she just makes the minute trip from her house over to yours just to talk.
Dahyun’s calls circulate every now and then, getting the quick rundown of what’s been happening while she’s knee-deep in trial work down at the firm. You simply smile while tapping on the camera switch icon on facetime to have her look at the group of Sana, Jihyo and her summer flirt, Mina, along with a few others just have a communal game night of Mario Kart down at Sana’s place when everything is settled in. Before that, you were explaining the fascination of this ancient city that you’ve been reading into between business calls and graph inputs during work that may sound like you’re a boring professor talking about history.
None of that would matter because Sana’s house is like this ancient city that’s riddled with riches and items of materialistic value that would probably convince someone else that their money is being wasted over meaningless items rather than propper investments. You get a few nods of agreement, maybe some fingersnaps because what you’re saying could be plausible with the amount of knowledge you’ve consumed to tell without boring everybody.
“I could care less if that were the case,” Sana says, leaning closer on the couch while running a hand through her hair, the flowy locks combined with that cropped Prada shirt could have you reeling in an alternate universe, but it doesn’t.
“Sana,” you call out, Jihyo’s also giggling at the fact before you even say it also, “your walk in closet is literally the devotion of this ‘city of gold’ I’m talking about.”
“Hey!” and she’s taking this with a light offense, “I only say that it’s true because where else am I supposed to put the dresses?”
“I suppose they could go somewhere else that doesn’t take up space in the racks?”
“You’re the one who helped me put them up anyway!”
“Don’t get all defensive now because I’m talking about it.”
She cracks this smile while Mina sounds off with a ‘boo’ noise, “You can take your little history tangent up your ass then.”
To that, you raise an open bottle of White Owl to her face, downing a bit of the drink while she rolls her eyes, narrowing while she purses her lips. She’s lining her fingers across the bottom of her chin, intuitively, studying the movements of your hands and eyes, getting a read of what makes you tick.
Even after the activities of game night are all wrapped up, you stay behind in Sana’s house, picking up the assortments of empty glasses and bottles, the charcuterie board that’s scavenged through, except the stack of cheese that was apparently stale and too cold to even dig their teeth in.
“Care for some cereal?” Sana prompts after the final sweep.
“You’re asking me to have a night breakfast?”
“You’re making it sound like it’s something to be frowned upon.”
“Then why the paradoxical proposal?”
She doesn’t bother answering that with a simple hum while you’re chuckling lowly. There’s already two bowls on the counter, and not long after, she’s holding out two boxes: Frosted Flakes and Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
“I like the choices.” you tell her, placing yourself on one of the high chairs while Sana slides one of the boxes over with the jug of milk trailing just behind it. You snap a picture of yours and Sana’s bowls to send over to Dahyun and in which she responds in three seconds - you fell for the cereal bait tactic.
What? I got courted with Frosted Flakes and you know this, they’re great.
She did the same thing to me back in college, but that’s her ‘ol reliable’.
Sana swipes your phone from your hand that you try to get back, but she skips a few feet away and starts to text in your place. “What are you texting Dahyun about?”
“Why does it matter to you?”
“That’s my phone you’re using.”
Sana parts her mouth open, humming once, “I’m too lazy to grab mine from the living room.”
“You’re texting my wife.” you deadpan.
“She was mine first before you came along.”
You roll your eyes. Ouch. But you sigh once the defeat settles itself back in over you. All that you’re just left to do is get these soggy, milky grains down before you eventually pack it up for the night.
“Thanks again for staying back to help,” Sana tells you on the front step of her yard, “worth the treat of cereal as a reward.”
“Nice to have some company, especially when there’s video games that make me feel like a careless child again.”
“We’re all a little starved for a little fun, glad I contributed to that reach of youth.”
And this comes out of nowhere, really, you miss Dahyun around the house and it’s felt like ages since you’ve last seen her.
Sana has her knuckles against her cheek, the fingers are well refined, she has that glow on her face and that small hint of a dimple that breaks out underneath and well - that same pout you saw last time breaks into this perfect grin of hers that’s filled with uncut happiness, the way her eyes arch into that same eye smile Dahyun has really makes you think twice about your situation.
It’s embarrassing, but you miss Dahyun while there’s this small crush of Sana growing inside you. Going against your vow might be one thing, but your heart can’t help itself to only tell you over your mind - well shit. Congrats.
Though, she’s reeling you back in after seeing Hailey’s comet above, calling your name that makes you unsure if you even know your own name.
“Will you be busy for the rest of the week?” She prompts.
“You can just come past the gate and ring the doorbell, I’ll always answer.”
Sana doesn’t say anything more than that, only giving you the usual ‘good night’ message before she sends you off on your way, just a few feet to the side and behind another door.
–
Some weeks pass. It’s late, and hot. The combination of this nightly hot climate doesn’t serve anyone well.
You hear a knock at the door that has you scratching your head over the fact on who would be at your front doorstep around this time. All of that gets thrown out the window when you look up past the column of wood to see Sana standing there, bundled up in gray sweats and an oversized sweater that’s draping her frame, two sizes too big, her shoulder noticeable to see. She has nothing else on or with her besides the phone in her hand.
“It’s the middle of the night,” you announce, squinting at the light towering over you and her in the front patio of the house, letting out a sigh while Sana just wiggles her body side to side, acting all innocent knowing that she knows what she’s doing. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping already?”
Sana finds your reactions to be funny. For every question, you give her a simple or calculated answer. A greeting in the morning or afternoon would be short and sweet ending off with ‘let me know if you ever need anything’ before heading back inside with the daily mail or some vacuum or bundle of rags to clean from the garage. Every blurt or sexual comment would send you coughing or spitting out some of your water when Sana’s dropping by to see what you were doing. Most girls other than Dahyun in her position would be automatically disinterested, not your fault for being naturally dry and introverted.
“Julie crashed at Natty’s place, so I managed to drive myself back home.” Sana replies with a pull of her lips, breaking a sly grin when you return the same nod, prompting her to come inside because it wouldn’t be like you to keep a beautiful girl from around the neighborhood just standing outside your doorstep.
The hums that come out of Sana’s mouth are refreshing, in addition to the little swing of her head back and forth when she moves past the first lounge area of your house to between the dining table and kitchen where she stops short for a second, looking off to the left, formulating a thought. You had the lights dimmed around the place, but you catch the silhouette of her side profile while a hand is behind her back, like one of those poses that she did for a magazine not too long ago that she shared when you finished up moving the last bits of her boxes.
“Why come to my place?” you ask, flicking a light switch that brightens the area right outside leading up to the backyard. “Are you that bored around your house that you just walk over to mine?”
“Not denying that I’m bored,” Sana amends, turning towards you again, “just wanted to give you some company.”
“Sana, it’s late.”
“Remind me again,” she pouts, the lift of her eyebrows makes you slightly cringe, “How long has Dahyun been busy with her work and that trial of hers?”
“Last I heard from her was that she’s almost done closing off the settlements.”
“Good, and you haven’t been losing your mind over the fact that your wife’s not with you.”
“Can I live normally while Dahyun gets to play the main breadwinner in the relationship?”
Sana coos after that. She keeps this longing gaze at you while you’re returning the same fix on her. The end point of her nose, the lines of her cheek, that over peeking collarbone when she sweeps her hair from the front to the back with a little flip; you tell her that the downtime you were mainly focused on was trying to get back to sleeping, but the damn heat was the main excuse and to that she laughs, scrunching her face when she can see right through the poorly constructed lie.
It’s distracting, the small rumbling of this breaking desire - makes you feel uncertain in how you should approach the current dwindling situation.
Falling off the curve, however, Sana asks you: “Do you mind if I can take a swim in your pool?”
–
This should be a page in the history books, ripped away and shrouded in the shadows, never to be disclosed to anyone else that isn’t yourself.
It’s also completely harmless when you’re mindlessly handing Sana one of your spare towels sitting in the bathroom, smiling sincerely when she accepts the simple item of hospitality with the add on of, if you also need some extra clothes to wear because you dipped your feet in the pool with the overhanging flared sweatpants of yours getting stained, I can lend you a pair while it dries up - pick it up tomorrow or have it dropped off-
She floats her way down the steps, towel over her shoulder, “I’d take an extra pair of pants to use after I finish, thank you.”
You nod, letting herself like at home as if her own home wasn’t only less than five seconds away next to yours. The glass sliding door opens up to the balcony when you finally hear the light crash of water being made from the floor below.
There’s something calming about the light blue glow being illuminated from the pool, looking up at the different stars and constellations with today’s moon being somewhat of a mix between a half moon slowly transitioning into a crescent. Dahyun was also with you in this same position after the first night of moving in, pointing out the basic lines of the Big Dipper and the Alpha Centauri, you showing her Orion’s belt before she made a counterargument that it wasn’t a freaking belt, but it just goes to show that you’re just counting the days down until Dahyun gets back from brining the trial win home.
Looking down, you just see Sana the singular hint of honey brown sitting on the edge of the pool before slowly dipping in, getting the ends of her hair wet before tying it up in a high bun and happily floating in place, sighing while the refreshing yet, cool temperature of water settle around her body.
The room of your study looks tempting to set up base camp, not the worst option to consider also as a form to keep yourself occupied while your bubbly neighbor was right outside your backyard swimming in the night.
(God’s really picking and choosing your battles in any way that he pleases, huh?)
You stay the course, grabbing a quick bottle of Heiniken from the fridge when you’re seeing the sight of Sana’s shoulders and arms breaking the flow of water, her head just above the turquoise surface, the light shining beneath her face to get a good glimpse of her rosy cheeks, those lips tugged at the ends of them in a soft smile, the line of her neck also doing you numbers than the beverage in your hand before you’ve even got a propper sip.
Sana looks towards the back of the house, you raise the bottle up to let her know that you’re still here, noticing the pile of clothes on one of the lounge chairs, neatly folded with her phone as the cherry on top.
Here’s where you make mistake #1: The second bottle in your left hand needs a drinker, and you step your way out into the boardwalk of your pool. A missing piece of detail that you completely ignored was how Sana’s pile of clothes was lacking one vital part–
“I find it to be pretty peculiar for my wife’s friend to be skinny dipping in my pool at around this hour.” you inform Sana of the situation, to which she softly laughs at the observation while you’re kneeling at the edge, placing the two bottles off to the side that you’ll get back to later.
Sana floats her way to the edge of the pool right next to you, arms hanging on the deep end while looking up, “Didn’t think I needed the necessary layers, no?”
“You want to tell me about layers when you’re wearing nothing underneath.”
“Where’s the fun in having swimsuits and trunks?” she teases, “it’s too much of a hassle for me to go through the exhausting process of changing in your spare bathroom that’s miles away from the pool.”
“There was literally a bathroom for you next to the kitchen that you passed by to get here.“
“Why don’t you join me? The pool’s too big to have one person inside.”
No. No. Don’t even think about–
“And if I refuse?” you ask quickly, naively.
Sana leans her head back, and your eyes can’t help in anything besides fucking you up. The waves of the water cleared up, returning to its calm, idle state where you catch the highlighted sallow skin against the light, catching her hips and legs flowing freely. She lets her lower body rise up to the surface, hands still alongside the edge almost as if she’s lounging on the nearby chairs - it also hits you that she’s doing it on purpose, the fact that her bare ass is just out in the open air for you to see–
Right on cue, mistake #2: you sit down nicely, criss-cross like a little kid; and Sana scoots herself to where you’re sitting, closely, dangerously.
“I’ve got some pull for you to rethink, take my offer into some light consideration.” she muses, and the leaning closer coming from you is seriously not helping. She’s got her hand laying below your knee, and she might as well be right under you with the ground advantage.
That same lean is also curious; it’s also pretty familiar too - how the natural state of gravity works, Dahyun reeled you in to some similar form a long while ago - forget if or maybe if the fact she looked first or you looked first, it doesn’t matter. One key difference between that event and now was the fact that you realize that you’ve toppled over and into the swimming pool, clothes still on and everything, the brisk feeling of water washing over before you find yourself breathing, ears getting flushed out and replaced with Sana’s sweet laugh to top if all off.
You swipe your hands through your soaked face, slowly floating to the shallow end while cringing at the present moment that just occurred. The blend on your shirt and sweats mold to your figure, like someone had slapped clay on you. Chlorine is not good for the eyes, obviously, so keep rubbing your eyes and clearing out any sinuses while telling Sana that you’re not inviting her in the next time after this night.
Sana has this effect on people, so natural and open to the point with others that she’s hugging everyone and doing skinship as she pleases, you’re not far off from the latter, in fact–
“I thought you’d be a little more vocal with the fact I pulled you in,” she tells you, turning away slightly when you splash a hint of water as she approaches you.
“It’s cold,” you say blankly, slicking your hair back while Sana closes the distance. Sly smile and everything.
“That’s all you have to say?” she asks, “So dry.”
“Aside from the fact that you’re swimming naked in my pool, I think there’s more pressing issues for me to take care of.”
Pressing issues noted, Sana is well within arms reach, except you have another look at her charming face, her body under the water - she’s well defined in all avenues, fair skin that would even rival Dahyun’s for a quick comparison, her hands continue to do their own thing when they’re measuring the shape of your middle, fingertips grazing the soaked shirt and all.
“I’m sorry” she breathes out, the faintest apology of them all.
You’ve got your arms around her waist, not a care to fully realize what you’re actually doing; it’s a collapse in real time, her hand to the back of your neck: mistake #3.
With a simple press of her lips on yours, she grips tightly, the draw of air clouding the intoxicating taste that has you humming a bit, the slide of her fingers down the line of your jaw before going off the rails with replacing the hand with a full on arm, hooking onto your neck while you move up to her upper back.
But this inferno was unraveling.
Her legs fill the gap between yours, hands are now on both sides of her face, thumb sliding across that prominent cheek bone that will have you sculpting out the details some other time. She’s kissing you like she wanted this to happen, the desperation, hunger even, like it would be the last thing needed over everything else, and you’d give that to her. It’s all sinking, that box of thoughts that was supposed to stay at the bottom of the ocean, the sealed lock intact and with no key to open, it’s resurfacing like the breaths of air you and Sana share with your faces just centimeters away from each other.
“Do you think you can forgive me?” she stops to ask.
A fucking truck of reasoning is what hits you, pulling back even more but your hands are now keeping Sana in place, just right above her ass holding at the hips. “Yes- no-” She pulls you in for another convincing kiss before another could be stolen on her cheek, the same sigh she sounded in your throat a few seconds ago comes around. “I don’t know anymore.”
“It’s okay to not know.” Sana’s face softens when you can’t even bother to look her in the eyes now, tilting your chin up to support, lightly stroking it. “We probably shouldn’t.”
She’s right. You’ve got to end this and you have to end it now.
“But what if we did?” You’re left breathing, in disbelief.
“Would you want to find out?” Sana asks again, unsure but also confident. “There’s this kind of luxury I’m fascinated with discovering the unknown.”
You’re thinking of these different stories in your head, the different kinds of graphs and tables riddled with numbers trying to come up with a logical case, predicting a scenario where you could forget about all of this, count the days until you won’t be alone again with the right person. Except Sana is dishing out all of these simple motions that have you leaning in for more, yearning. A hand is being slid across the shoulder, her face is suddenly closer with yours when you pull her towards you. “I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t afraid.”
“Don’t feel bad,” she tells you, a comforting whisper, wisping in the breeze. “You’ll be able to catch on quickly.”
(If there was anything that you’ve noticed while starting this new chapter: you’ve learned that the sly smile armed by Minatozaki Sana will have anybody flipping over, ruining lives and starting fires.)
All common sense gets tossed out of the pool when you kiss her again, a choice that will have its own consequences when the time is right, the floodgates of sin opening harshly while you've just signed your one-way ticket straight to hell.
–
Another thing that you learn from the houses that are oozing with richness up and down the street is that money and sex have powerful selling points.
This may be subject to change, but when you have an art piece like Sana stolen from the museum of her house (figuratively), all fingers and charges point toward theft, the necessary offenses that follow after don’t really matter as of right now.
–
It’s not that difficult for you to fall in a place like this: carrying Sana up the steps but only stopping short at the doorway when she’s lapping her tongue into your mouth. She’s still wet in your hands from the pool, and you have the wall play as a part to keep her in place - the fit of your lips breaking apart before they find themselves again.
“Mmm,” Sana hums into your mouth when you finally let her down, on the balls of her feet while your hands wrap around her waist again, knee lightly nudging the apparent line of your cock with the pads of her fingers soon after, testing it.
“Hey,” you mumble, pulling away with an audible smack from her lips, tongue licking your mouth while she softly laughs, and again - it’s definitely on purpose when her hand palms your cock more firmly through the soaked sweatpants that has you gasping for a millisecond. “Trying to get on with it faster now, are we?”
Her hand sets itself on your chest, eyes meeting with hers half-lidded, she knows what she’s doing, she knows that this is wrong, and she most definitely knows that this is on purpose. You tilt your head more deeper only for her to stop you for not more than two seconds, before easily allowing you to kiss her once again.
“Who’s leading?” Sana laughs at herself, still stark naked when your hands land at the rise of her hip, massaging the slope of her ass with the droplets of water gliding across your palms. “Wouldn’t be right of me to do all of the hard work, begging at the fact that you’re about to fuck me over in this huge house, get your fingers inside and finally have that perfect dick that Dahyun always talks about.”
“She told you?”
“Much like every time we catch up. Always.”
“What do you know so far?”
Sana sighs when you kiss her again, the lines on her face softening like a flush of anxiety that suddenly went away in a matter of a second. Your hand is quick to travel to the back of her head, pull the elastic of her hair tie that lets her locks flow down while the counterpart is palming her warm, bare cunt, eliciting a slight gasp while you’re smiling into her skin. “She- she told me that you were disappointing the first time y-you guys did it.”
“Oh?” you mutter, thumb tapping on her clit that makes her whole body stiffen while the pad of your middle finger slowly scoops under her folds, noting how much she’s gotten slick in the short span of time. “The inexperience was the main factor.”
Another finger pushes inside, feeling the stretch while your ear receives the steady decline of Sana’s breaths, lip being pulled inward by the upper row of her teeth while her chest heaves, the heat becoming too unbearable to handle. She’s not one to let you take the easy route, putting her lips back with yours while you scoop under her luscious ass, walking past the doorway and into the bedroom - a space where Dahyun’s appearance was the common one - now introducing a newcomer that will make her case to stay.
The landing on the bed isn’t gentle, and Sana slightly sets herself up on one elbow, while you’re tugging the sopped clothes off your body, trying to get a read into this pretty woman’s eyes of the things you want to do to her. You’ll make her cum, flip her into the mattress, have her bouncing on your cock later, get her whimpering while you drink in the sight of her pretty face just blown out, euphoric, the writing’s already on the wall before you even get a chance to draw the pen.
“You think I’m gonna disappoint you with my performance? Maybe prove that Dahyun’s point still stands?” you ask her, making your space bigger over hers when you’re on top of her, pulling from the hips to get her to meet your thighs. Sana bites her lip in a short excitement, keeping her gaze on yours when her fingers finally wrap around your cock, giving a few experimental pumps while she spreads wider, opening the gates to an avenue that will have you packing your bags to the next house over. “Imagine if–”
“I’ll make you shut up about your worries, now fill my pussy up. With your fingers, your cock, just anything, please.”
She’s desperate for you, and you have to admit it too, but when that first rush of every single sensation registering in your mind from the very instant you have your cock wrapped around her, sliding inside those lines with the small tug of your hips, pushing more while you could feel nails rip into your skin.
It’s a new entry of data, the approach of how Sana’s pussy is downright perfect for you. There’s a slight throb, a misfire when the strokes are still hesitant, uncertain exchanges of breaths with the slow blinks between her eyes and yours. Uninviting, but all the more welcoming with her walls, clinging into the deeper ends of her cunt, breaking down the imaginary lines of numbers and rope circling through your head.
“My, fuck–” and you also choke out something too when she says that, the muted cry she let out while you take a moment to readjust, sliding out before you yank Sana’s hips onto your cock again. “T-this is everything.”
Like you need the exposition on the term everything. All of your worries wash away when you thrust more ferociously, the internal bomb in your brain ticking away the time every single speck of seconds that passes through burying your cock inside her. You’re nowhere near gentle at this point, the squeeze that has you mirroring Sana’s “hnns” over the claps of your thighs with hers, taking advantage of the arch in her back by hooking your arms underneath while one of her long legs locks around you.
“So good,” she just groans out, relishing in the feeling of it. “Don’t stop–”
You’re also not safe from it either, fingers resting alongside her midriff where her hands are placed on top, grasping at the new angle of your hips where it has her wheezing, the fresh spot of heat hitting the base also making your lose your sense of awareness, reduced to nothing but just a desolate being of a husband that’s throwing their marriage away.
Her creaming cunt only keeps you focused, the pretty sounds and remarks coming out of her mouth has you giving her expressions of confusion, lust, shock, and maybe that longing look of when you see someone at first sight and it just kills you, right then and there. The sheets come undone, a pillow is used as a secondary support underneath her back, a clutch of the tit and she does this simple evil grab of your hips while you’re ruthlessly pounding into her helpless body, utilized as a vice the more you hold your end of the bargain.
“Sana, you’re–” and again, the mind blanks out of this small blurb of praise before she just giggles for her response, fucking her so throughly that you’re running the different combinations of tempos to get her even more ruined, fucked dumb, maybe even have her begging to be used over your cock like this again soon - the eventuality of that notion will be all too apparent when the sun rises the next morning.
She just clings to you, keeping your hips in motion while her hands cup around your face once more, pulling inward for that press of lips all over again like the beginning. You feel the wobbling lip, a thumb quick to keep her coaxing while she whimpers in absolute bliss.
“I want you,” she huffs, and you’re falling through the cracks with every steady stroke of your cock between the opening of her legs, “to make me cum. Make a mess out of me and this pussy.”
You’re taking shelter between her mounds, not wanting to look up in pension for the cardinal sins committed tonight, lips swiping up and down her neck that has Sana moan out in approval, the clamp of her walls tightening every return back to the bottom, her hands are over your back, tracing lines, fantasizing. She’s a fucking waterfall every thrust you take.
“I’m- fuck–you’re gonna–gonna make me cum so fucking hard.” you feel the pulse impending, the muffled squeak that she makes in your lips, she’ll be the first to fall. That eruption happens fast, the spasm and tighter grab in her walls around you while she’s crying for now.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for this incident, a flashpoint in time that was probably bound to happen, fucking Sana in the walls of your own bedroom this hard– “You’re something else, just like you were meant to have me like this, God.”
“Keep fucking me like this - god that feels so good, You and your cock it’s-” she huffs, barely smiling. She can see you slipping, at the edge, the litany of moans sounding like a siren out at sea. That mess she requested, you’ll give it to her, bury your cock in the deepest depths where it shouldn’t even be humanly possible, where the molten hot walls are bursting the thickness of your head, grinding out every cell and fiber - it’s possible. “Fuck, that’s so hot when you’re all fucked out for me.”
“Sana,” you say, and she has your hand over her tongue, licking up the thumb, and you’ll swear that it’ll do damage to you for centuries.
“Mhm,” she responds nicely, the last bit of the hum coming out as a hitched whimper, “Cum inside me.”
That’s how she’ll want to do things. If she wants something, she’ll get it. You do the same amount of damage to her like she did to you while she’s begging, whimpering, getting all of the lovely noises of being fucked out to oblivion out of her mouth until she’s leaking - washing you over, from the legs, to the pillows and sheets. Stretching her out perfectly, get her to slur out phrases that she would say normally on occasions not like this, only to come back around and have you fill in between the gaps.
You slip, she slips, it won’t matter, because you or her will make the catch, that extra push deep, maybe harder. The velvety drag already has you addicted to her, the sight of her body above this hips was just the plus.
“God, Sana. So fucking wonderful.” you snarl against the line of her cheek, one last final dip that has your cum flooding deep into her warm, velvety cunt.
The throbs of your cock has Sana mumuring softly, saying something like - yes, yes, keep fucking your cum into me, so that I can feel it - nice and hot, god yes.
You slide out halfway, and her hips buck from the tender motion while your hands rub her thighs. And you also black out for a second when a few more spurts coat her walls even more, the pullout quick for a fist around the head of your cock, covering her waist in the remaining bits of cum still left inside you - well fucked and sloppy.
Sana’s eyelids flutter shut, your hand rubbing along the oblique of your hips, that sense of desire finally fading away when you fully realize what had just transpired in the past hour or so. The lights are off in the house with the illuminating glow of the moon breaking through the window, tinnitus ringing in your eardrums and your eyes are fixated on Sana again, cross-eyed on the cum-soaked fingers she has, taking the liberty of sucking on them shamelessly, and the fucking noises she makes has your jaw to the floor.
“Thank you,” she says, sweetly, innocently, sitting up on the bed with her legs crossed, the trail of cum still apparent on her stomach. “You certainly did not disappoint.”
You, my friend, are entirely fucked.
“What’s gonna happen to us now?” you ask her, rubbing your face and shaking your head in disapproval while Sana cleans the rest of herself up with her fingers. “I think we made–”
“Did I not tell you to worry?” Sana’s quick to shut you down, her look cross while you don’t even bother to meet her in the eye. This is supposed to feel wrong, it shouldn’t feel like anything else besides that. She scoots herself over to you with a quick kiss to your cheek, one that you accept openly, but still feel pensive over.
“We can talk about it later,” she says, sliding herself into the rumpled sheets, patting down the open space next to her. “Would you mind if I stay the night? In your room? And in your bed?”
“I can’t really turn down that offer,” you laugh, following along with a hand trailing up the side of her figure, giving a meaningful press of lips to the spot of her hair, “I actually like the company now.”
“Would you also mind if I want it later when I can’t sleep?”
“I’m seriously gonna hate you for this when we’re done.”
“But I’m asking nicely.” she says, and hums this sweet tone when you lay next to her, feeling her ass shimmying against your cock underneath. “You’ll say yes,right?”
“Keep up with the needy act, and maybe I’ll have to fuck the want right out of you.”
Sana rolls herself on top of you, finger tracing the lines of your face again, sketching, the bottom of her lip tugged by a pair of teeth. There’s that sly smile again, mischievous. It’s the reality now, she’s won you over.
“Consider it a gift for you.” she adds, kissing you again before she goes slack on your chest, the wave of sleep finally setting in.
–
(This actually comes later when you can’t dream a wink, staring up at the high ceiling:
It only takes little effort for someone to make a house into a home - and you learn to the best extent possible, Sana slots in that missing piece where Dahyun is supposed to fill - without even fully realizing it.
Her and Dahyun are two sides of the same coin, both give you this sense of ease and confusion that has you looking off while they’re trying to hide the inevitable laughs. They’re both also moodmakers with the way they look at you with the earnest smile, a reminder of one and the other that you’re not too far behind to follow.
Every nick of the mouth moving, the glint in their eyes that will break you down from the shackles of rational thoughts while the springs in your bed are supporting the absolute fucking you’re doing over them.
Maybe this summer will be saved after all.)
–
When the crack of dawn breaks through the sunrise, you’re trying to recollect what little thoughts you have left of your deteriorating marriage; as in, what’s gonna happen to you when Dahyun finds out you’ve slept with her close friend who just happens to live in the house right next door, aside from other things. This space was now tainted in the heinous acts you’ve committed but the only thing that was filling the front of your mind was the amount of work emails you saw on your phone while waking up.
“You’re just gonna leave me here in the bed all alone?” Sana asks, your back still turned to her when you mindlessly flick up the switch to your bathroom.
A simple spin on the ball of your heel, and the image is just majestic to witness.
This 5’3 brunette that’s all sunshine and rainbows, replaced by a deity that oozes sexiness and uncapped lust, lays on the side of her frame with an elbow propped up to support her head, hair still having that post-fuck frizziness to it, the sheets are covering most of her middle, but that outreaching left leg exposed, folds in, and you catch that slope of her hip, her ass is also not that far behind to look over.
You already know her body all too well. If you could put someone that’s remotely close to the Greek god of Aphrodite, Sana would come very close to that.
“Are you really expecting yourself to stay here?” you ask, fishing for your toothbrush before washing it with one hand, the other grabbing the minty toothpaste that was adjacent to it in the cup. “You know that I have work, not to mention working at home too.”
You watch from the doorway when she sits up, the romp of her sheets falling over in front that shows that pale chest, her firm breasts that lay beneath her fine collarbones, there’s a new set of hickeys - the hickeys, showing your favorite spot to soothe her while she’s wailing in your arms, the rise and fall of her shoulders every breath let out has another wanting bite of her swollen lips.
“Is it too much to keep you company?” she asks again, tugging on the comforter, hoping that she’ll get the right answer out of you.
“It’s not that I mind about the company of you, it’s the fact that others would get suspicious.” you retort, placing down the brush filled toothpaste on the counter, “That’s the last thing that I want to happen.”
“How long has Dahyun been at trial with her firm?”
“At least a couple weeks at this point.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“You need to go home.”
“But your place is a lot nicer than mine, clean also.” she smiles, looking up little by little when you approach her on the edge of the bed. A hand is outreached with hers, and it’s damning how well it fits with yours, the automatic reflex of brushing your thumb over the highest peak of her middle knuckle. You don’t even flinch at the fact that she’s moved your hand over to her breast, tracing her nipple. It’s not hard to ease into these seductive advances, softly chuckling at the way Sana’s tit has a sort of weight to them - perky, but impossible to resist.
“What am I gonna do with you?” you ask yourself, a little loudly for Sana to hear too, “I have to get ready.”
“Breakfast on the table?”
“Have you freshen up before you do the walk of shame next door.” you whisper, helping her up, swooping under her legs in a bridal carry. The tangle of her hairs on your chest when she leans her head in, laughing, the smell of citrus and lingering sweat. “The comforter was too heavy and hot anyway.”
Sana just giggles, waving her feet in the air, into the bathroom where her skin glows a little bit lighter. “What’s the point of having that open room next to yours if it’s not used?”
–
(There’s a lot of questions that don’t get answered. Partly because Sana can’t concentrate while you’re kneeling between her legs in the shower, lapping away at her clit, washing away any slick that’s left out; her fingers are splayed out across the tile, slipping, dripping away from her hips.
You also shouldn’t be whispering these sweet nothings into her ear either, kissing her as if in another reality, maybe this too, could be a thing. It isn’t fair, it’s not right. She comes off as urgent, hoping to keep your mind off of the responsibilities sitting at your desk for just a little while longer. “Don’t do this to me.” That’s a plea, your mouth hovering over her neck, she has your dress shirt draped over her on the kitchen island with her knees apart again, filling in the space while she’s all porcelain teeth and warm tongue. She tugs on your lips like she wants every last bit of you, and it’s not worth fighting for. Her mouth gets on the cuff of your ear, and she whispers this spell, a curse rather, impending your fate even more:
“I think you know all of the things that I would do to you.”)
–
Fucking Sana has its own luxury.
This living art piece wandering about in your house where no one else knows. She comes to your place, you go to hers, it’s a trade off that’s very easy to do when you’re just a few steps away from each other’s doors.
We could also talk about benefits. The benefits. She asks for a couple favors - a helping hand to clean the house (yours or hers) as an example - you have some requests of your own, mostly to just have a quick bite of her cooking or pull some aged alcohol that was gifted to you a long while ago, half the bottle already gone before the end of one night. It usually ends up with you sinking inside of her, caressing her gentle body, kissing the nape of her neck when your hips mesh with hers perfectly.
It’s a new fun that’s profound in yourself. This super popular model that has every hot contact of companies you could name off the top of your head in her phone, taking a quick hiatus for some ‘me’ time. She’s got a solid income, her closet is full of brands that you take note of to give to Dahyun later down the line, and the sex man, it’s just fucking- well, terrific.
If having Sana all to yourself was the prime exclusivity in its own right, the girls she invites over make everything much more interesting, just aside from the fact that she comes unannounced most of the time. Oh, and that girl in her picture framed back at her place, Chou Tzuyu, she’s a real sweetheart. You’ll have her tag along with Sana no matter what time of the day it is (or night, because you’ll always be free outside of work when it counts).
Sana usually stays in your house more compared to hers, and she usually seeks you out first with a longing press of lips on yours. Tender, sweet, before you get into the best part of your regular business day, bending her over the nearest piece of furniture and dumping a nice hot load between her thighs while she goes on doing whatever you need her to do around the house to keep herself busy.
She doesn’t let you have your way that easily. There’s this business call you’re doing, talking about how the numbers don’t really add up for this list of statistic report you were handed an hour prior, trying to fight the gravity of your head leaning forward–
“Sana, your fucking mouth. So good, jesus.” you mutter, cradling her head while she taps your cock on her perfect lips, laving her tongue over before she dips down again, pushing you past the tightness of her throat.
–of the very person pushing your thighs apart underneath the desk when she primes at the very angle, bobbing her head slowly while maintaining that hypnotic friction of her hand over your shaft.
You hit the key binded to the mute button on the call, not giving a single ear of the person in the session rambling about well, if we could get an extra day or two with the new inputs for the program, then maybe we the numbers that are put together can line up with the graph - ‘and, let me get this straight–’
“Mmph, god.” You’re broken down to just a few simple actions, combing Sana’s hair, guiding her silkly mouth onto your cock, and she doesn’t let up the fucking pace. You’ve got your fingers intertwined with hers on your thigh, not giving a care of how she’s so persistent to get you off like this, choking, drawing back for some air - her pinky and ring finger moving in this motion on the tip that has you shuddering.
“Such a fucking hard worker,” she says, biting her lip, the glare in her eyes that’s nearly demonic while her tongue slips along the underside and upper part of your cock. “How could you talk so calmly while your dick is in my mouth?”
“I’ve had practice before,” you answer, slightly smirking at the memory of Dahyun doing the exact same to you long ago, it’s no different.
Keeping it together wasn’t the option anymore, while the rush of Sana’s mouth is drawn back to you, proceeding with the online meeting as planned, discussing the future plans delegated to your coworkers. Too bad that they can’t hear the litany of gurgles and gags happening below your desk, struggling to not use one hand and keep Sana buried under there, watching with that lustful look in your eyes when she knows you’re about to pop, the shake of your leg as the sole hint to what she needs before putting both hands into the mix, all wet while every ounce of focus gets diluted to the ceiling.
The meeting eventually ends while groaning at Sana’s throat bottoming you out, spilling inside that heat with a weak buck of your hips, shoving everything into her where your balls meet her chin. It just happens, more and more; her mouth is so fucked for you that some of the cum gets on her teeth when you slide out of her. The worst part: you’re still fucking leaking, getting it on her bottom lip, another rope above her eyebrow; the splatter doesn’t even end when she lightly presses a thumb down at the base and you get another drop to her cheek - it still isn’t fair when she wraps her fingers around, lightly stoking while your entire lower half of your body is still twitching once the work is all done.
Sana can be evil, but she goes back to being a bundle of joy when she plants a kiss to the tip, pushing your chair back and kisses you back on the lips, wiping some remnants of your cum from your lips onto her fingertip while she sucks them cleanly. “Productive call?”
“Got a few more clients to talk to, but thanks. I needed that.” you sigh, fingers on her chin to assess the proof, nodding Sana off to go ahead and wash up before cooking lunch.
“You still want the usual meal?”
–
Sana goes away for a few days, and the place gets hollow again.
You have the phone in your ear with your manager to talk about potential vacation time (talk about great timing too), and with a press of a button on the TV, you see the headline on the channel broadcast:
Dahyun and her firm won the trial. Which means that she’s finally coming home.
–
Dahyun’s homecoming is a bit short lived when you wait for her right on the street, her personal chauffeur rolling away while she’s walking to you with a duffel bag, a carry-on luggage, and her briefcase that she sets down before jumping into your arms. She smells soapy, a nice tinge of lavender when you bury your nose into the midpoint of her collar and neck. You tell her that you’re proud, give her the necessary congrats before dishing out the reassurance that you didn’t burn the goddamn place down while she was out saving her own job.
“You didn’t miss much,” you say, watching Dahyun take a longing bite of the salmon dish you cooked for her, the hum of approval with that smile you’ve missed so much for god knows how many weeks has it been. “Besides the fact that you were saving your career, I kept myself busy with the projects at mine.”
“Really,” she starts, “I would think that you’d drive yourself insane up until I finally managed to get back. That racing sim setup would literally drive your attention away from me, so I thought that was one of the things to keep you busy.”
“I didn’t even have the whole thing unboxed yet,” you manage, swiping her glass of water for you to drink out of while she drives the knife into the food for another slice. “If anything, I was just cooped up in my office while keeping the house nice and tidy.”
“Good to know. Have you been doing stuff with the others while I was gone?”
“Who do you mean?”
“I mean. Jihyo, Mina, maybe even Sana.” Dahyun says, and your gaze shifts from stoic to this more pensive one; like the last name makes you remember things that you’re not supposed to. “You did help with Sana right?”
“I did. I was hoping that she left a handful of messages for you to read when you got off the plane.”
The doorbell rings, and your wife is quick to answer it with that fast-paced walk of hers. By the time she opens the door, the home is filled with a familiar sound that was echoing through the hallways not that long ago, a week, three weeks even.
Sana greets Dahyun with a loving embrace much like yours earlier this morning. Their conversation was pretty much filled with the usual ‘when did you get back?”, ‘you have to fill me in on everything that happened at your work!’, and ‘did you give him a hard time with the stuff you asked him to do?’ All of these questions have your head at an angle when you see the pair of them cling onto each other, like lost friends who haven’t seen each other but miraculously reunite at an airport after who knows what time frame you’d put them in.
(Sana gives you this gaze, one that will have you kicking your heels while she combs down Dahyun’s hair, that sly smile of a girl who knows what they did, what she does to you.)
You do nothing, just give her the simple wave and smile like nothing ever happened, while your mind plays a whole different tune and movie in the back of your head.
–
(A small tidbit about montages: these moments in time from here on out to help shape up how stories play going forward. It’s not pretty, playing Sana’s game of chess while the ‘oh, my wife doesn’t know I cheated on her with her best friend who just happens to be our next door neighbor’ runs in your head.
The blips don’t also fucking help either:
Instance #1: Another house party hosted by you and Dahyun where you bump into Sana in the kitchen, who returns with a playful tap to your crotch and a smack to your ass that has you buckling forward while you hear her laugh fade into the crowd.
Instance #2: Sana comes over for a movie night with Dahyun. While she went to use the bathroom, she uses this as an advantage to straddle over your lap, sucking your face up with her lips like a vacuum in the dark before she hurries back to her original spot on the couch, fixing up her hair and wiping her lips, playfully pointing at the hickey underneath your jaw that has you rolling her eyes by the time Dahyun settles back in the seat.
And finally, instance #3: The infamous office room incident. Where you had a dinner party with the neighbors again to celebrate your promotional achievement of heading this massive project that would benefit into making electric cars more affordable for the common money maker. Everyone is having fun with the drinks and partying aspect of it while Sana is on her knees, again, in the dark, deepthroating your cock with the door open for anyone to notice. All urges are off the table when you and her stow yourselves away into the guest room (with the meticulously placed soundproof foam pads all over the walls) when you have Sana’s light body bouncing over your cock, hammering down her hot cunt for a few minutes while she bites her own finger when you switch up the tempo to be more slow, loving, a deliberate way where she can really feel every throb inside her. She has a hand to the small of your back, you’re covering her moans with your palm, making her cum over and over until she’s walking to her house with a stutter in her step.
More incidents did occur, but there’s got to be a sense of craziness if we’re thinking of going through all of them.)
–
“I’d say that things are pretty normal now,” you say, arm around Dahyun’s back with fingertips just grazing the top of her ass, legs over your lap while taking shade on the couch in the backyard patio, hanging out with a quartet of drinks on the table, two for you, and the other two for Sana and Tzuyu.
They’re here on another hot Thursday, not wanting to risk a brownout with the a/c running for more than the viable six to eight hours that you’d normally have while working, taking a dip in the pool for a bit. Two pretty girls in clad bikinis: Sana in a revealing two piece that barely covers her nipples and pussy, Tzuyu in a striking singular bathing suit that shows those luscious thighs almost having you drool when she gets out of the water.
“This was so much better than just walking around in our underwear around the house.” Tzuyu says, laughing, grabbing her bottle of this brand you pulled from the fridge when she takes a nice swig. You remember the faint memory of waking up one morning with Tzuyu and Sana, both of them taking turns fucking you in different parts around the house. Tzuyu on the couch in the living room and Sana again on your office chair, hopping along your cock while you’re typing in a report on the desktop.
Sana’s laugh fills the atmosphere when she talks about pushing Dahyun into the pool, her look unamused when you stare at her in bewilderment while she sees Dahyun slap your shoulder, motioning you to take on the defensive. “You really have nothing else better to do than to spend your time with us.”
“You and Dahyun are good company.” Sana says, dismissively, hand on Tzuyu’s thigh to also include her in the conversation.
Dahyun shifts her legs off of your lap, pulling them in towards her while you sit up, leaning forward for the empty bottles before you’re stopped by Sana and Tzuyu, who both offered to get another round of drinks back inside while you relax. The pair of them both walk away, arm in arm, two beautiful girls with both bearing breathtaking asses, all within line of your eyesight.
“You don’t think I know,” Dahyun says, snapping your gaze immediately back to her.
“Know what?” you say, crossing your arm over while she leans in closer to you, making a face that looks very serious, but not threatening. A lick of your inner lip sends you uneasy while Dahyun’s eyes stare deeply into your soul. That deepening pit of anxiety inside your stomach has you second guessing on whether or not being honest and transparent with your wife should be the best route to go knowing what you did. What you’ve done.
“Nothing,” she answers after, “Wanted to test something out of you.” Dahyun then leans her head into your collarbone while you stare out into the blue horizon hearing the sounds of Sana and Tzuyu come back with another bundle of bottles waiting to be downed.
–
This happens entirely on a whim, and when you’re not even a part of the picture.
Sana answers the door to her house, eyes shooting up when Dahyun’s at the top step, smiling with a bag from the bakery and a full bottle of sparkling cider.
It’s the usual game of the catch-up conversation, Dahyun talks about her draining work from the trial, plus her extended vacation time handed by her boss. Sana talks about the upcoming collabs that she’s been appointed to, a plane waiting with an open door for her on the taxiway by the end of the month.
Exchanging laughs, quick memories of their past hangouts. The high-school reunion type vibe has this sense of nostalgic feeling between the two of them, but Dahyun drops the act completely out of nowhere to talk about more pressing matters.
“How long?” she asks Sana, placing her glass neatly on the counter across from her.
“What are you talking about?” Sana says, swallowing down a lump of bread down her throat, worrying. “Did I do something wrong?”
“I know you’ve been getting cozy with him,” Dahyun says flatly, “I just want you to tell me if that’s true or not.”
“About?”
“Getting his dick all up inside of you like you wanted.”
“I thought you were okay with it?”
“I never said anything remotely close to that.” Dahyun sighs, grabbing the half-full bottle of cider before downing it straight from the opening, placing it down right after while Sana taps her finger on the counter. “Besides, he’s probably worried that our marriage is ruined.”
“Doesn’t seem that way.”
“Sana, what are you implying?”
“What I’m implying,” Sana prompts sweetly, stepping towards Dahyun around the counter, snaking a hand down her waist where it’s open in the crop-top, kissing her by surprise. Dahyun’s mouth opens wider, fingers curling around the nape of Sana’s neck, like an old memory locked away coming to light again. “Is that we show your lovely man that shouldn’t be the case between us.”
She dips her face into Dahyun’s again, the kiss more intoxicating than the first initial contact. It’s how Dahyun melts down from Sana, the way her spine curves backwards, Sana’s hands there at the perfect time to support her, both of them are panting into it, how open they were about their feelings for each other before you waltzed in to have Dahyun all to yourself.
“I hate how I like you and him both.” Dahyun gasps when Sana plants her lips across her neck, her hands grasping her waist and ass that gets this hum of approval from Sana on her skin. “Maybe we could find a probable compromise to solve this little problem?”
“Is it the same compromise I’m thinking of seeing his pretty eyes when we cum all over his cock?” Sana asks with a wink while Dahyun just giggles into her chest.
“I love it when you and I are on the same page.”
–
A sigh leaves your lips when you hear how the metal grinds inside the lock of your doorknob, pushing the front door open to see the surprise of an article of clothing, sitting at your feet, tilting your head to the side when you pick it up to see that it was a cropped shirt. The soft sound of the humidifier fills the eerie silence when your eyes notice another piece of clothing a few inches away from the shirt, connecting the dots in your mind realizing the trail of clothes up the stairs.
Once up the steps, the pieces start to get larger: first a shirt, then some stockings, the door leading into your bedroom was ajar, the knob hanging with two pairs of panties. The hinges on your door squeak but so quietly, and your ears are greeted with a familiar laugh, not just one, but two.
Without producing any more noise to make your presence known, your eye captures the sight of Sana on your bed, dipping her head lower to a girl laying underneath, caressing her face while the other girl giggles, returning the kiss openly. It’s pretty peculiar, when you also realize that both of them are naked on your mattress, it’s also really fucking peculiar when you connect the dots that the girl laying underneath Sana is Dahyun of all people.
“I suppose that Sana’s little secret was finally let out by her.” you finally say, leaning on the door frame with the smooth wood wide open. And when the both look up at you, Sana looking up and forward, Dahyun looking from under while laying still, fuck, it’s sending signals to your brain at the image of them on top of each other like this, a mesh of skin on skin, their pretty faces stacked on their chins - you could sketch it on an easel, because that’s a literal art piece in real time.
Your mind doesn’t even register the few seconds after, when both Dahyun and Sana make way towards you, the movement of their bodies in perfect sync, hypnotized at the way you watch how they stand on their tiptoes - ghosting their hands all over your chest and hips while your hands tend to their asses, palm at the defined fit of them, softly laughing.
“We had,” Sana and Dahyun both say each word in different pauses, something straight out of a horror movie at the way they ad lib each other’s utterances. “An idea,” Sana adds. “That you’d hope you’ll like.” Dahyun finishes. “Would you like to see what we were discussing?”
(God picked your battles, and maybe you could let him off the hook just this once.)
“Impress me,” you simply say, while Sana pulls your head into hers when she kisses you in front of Dahyun.
–
So Sana and Dahyun return to the positions where you first found them.
The only difference being, Dahyun hanging her head off the bed upside down, dragging her tongue across the seam of your balls while Sana’s tongue slips inside your mouth, her slender fingers giving these languid strokes to your cock while the pair of them just hum in content, getting you ready when all of the gears are primed to click.
The contrast between the two of them, Sana being gentle with her lips while Dahyun is the complete opposite with hers, aggressive with the way her tongue swipes across the underside of your cock, her hands wrapped around your thighs to get more of those lavish licks at the base that has you counting stars behind your eyelids early.
“How are you rock fucking hard?” Sana husks, brushing her lips against yours while Dahyun leaves a path of pecks to your inner thigh before she rolls her body over, looking up with her doe eyes while Sana lets herself fall right next to her, flipping her hair back while the sheets crinkle at the elbows, reflecting the same look before flashing her eyes back at Dahyun. “Makes me wonder who you’re gonna finish inside of at the end of this.”
“Didn’t know that this was a competition,” you say, mind zoning out when Sana draws her tongue up your underside now in a quick lick, Dahyun smiling on the opposite end doing the same exact thing, that will most definitely bite back your words.
It’s only right that Dahyun gets to be the first to push your head into her mouth, inhaling a bit while her tongue smoothes out across the area, delicately brushing along the length that sends the synapses in your spine on an electrical current. Sana just looks in awe at how much your wife is taking you, twisting a hand in play while she plants a wet kiss to her temple.
You could get lost in the finesse of how Dahyun’s small hands skate up your length, the cushion of her mouth already enough to have your tongue between your teeth, but Sana didn’t come her to just watch, tapping lightly on her shoulder and sliding you out of one heat into the next, and the expectation you had for Sana blowing you always gets thrown out the window.
“Fucking whore she is,” Dahyun rasps when Sana lowers her lips more down your cock, rolling along with the lightest graze of her teeth along the top, a twitch of your legs with a billowing puff of your cheeks to let them know that what they’re doing is working. How many times has he let you blow him under the desk? You hear Dahyun ask Sana, pulling some stray strands of hair from her side when she clasps her lips at the base, keeping you there in the sweltering heat.
“Oh Dahyun,” Sana reprimands, “You have no idea how much I’ve made him cum while you were away.”
A hand is thrown into the mix, behind both of their heads when they meet the glints in their eyes, uniformly taking your cockhead from the side, slowly sliding down at the suction, how they both fluidly slide you in their mouths in alternating fashion. Sana popping with her mouth, Dahyun swiping along the slit the next second.
“Christ girls,” and you could hear the giggles of satisfaction to your amazement when they both have a hand along the length, stroking slowly to the point you can’t even look them in the eye. “You had this planned for a while now, haven’t you?”
“I was against Sana’s crazy idea,” Dahyun purrs, face flushed when you notice that Sana’s hand is at her rear, fingers dipping into her cunt that’s already slicked up, waiting to be stretched, “but then she convinced me otherwise after some- propper persuasion.”
“Tell me,” Sana chimes in, that innocent pout with her pursed lips doing absolutely no justice to how she looks right now, “Who do you think is the bigger slut between the two of us, me? Or Dahyunie?”
Dahyun guwaffs when she leans into your palm, slapping your cock along her lips while you thumb the soft skin on her temple, swiping the underside of your head makes you grit your teeth at the amount of teasing they’re both doing. “Maybe he should fuck our faces to see,” she suggests, “Who could choke the hardest over this fucking cock.”
(With a pair of wide open eyes, you could only mouth the word, “fuck.”)
“You’d like that anyway, won’t you daddy?”
The obedience settles in when both of these girls let their hands rest on the edge of the bed, finger and thumb wrapped around your cock when you tell both of them to hang their mouths open, rubbing your tip around the rim of Sana’s lips when she opens wider, wider until her jaw fully slacks at the whole length, and you love how she’s a pro at this.
You take your deserved pleasure of how each of these girls' mouths feel around you. Sana’s lips being so unbearably perfect with those pretty lips of hers, sliding out and have Dahyun practically inhale your cock next, her eyes blinking up over the tight seal she has over you. “Jesus, baby–”
Sana helps play the guide fucking your cock more into Dahyun’s mouth, the subtle flick she has sliding around with every move and thrust flushing into her throat. Her small lips were already ahead of the curve mirroring Sana’s movements a few minutes ago, the pressure sending waves from your hips up, lightly clutching her hair to keep the ache building.
“Taking your baby so well, huh?” Sana growls over the sound of Dahyun desperately slipping her head down your length. “You like how she’s deepthroating you after not having your cock for a whole month?”
“Feels so fucking good,” you answer, spreading your legs apart to keep Dahyun’s mouth on your cock warm, moaning so loud when Sana’s other hand works your balls, fingernails scratching along the ridges of skin while she fingers her, the moans sending vibrations along your shaft nearly breaking you. “Keep- gonna cum on this pretty fucking face.”
Borderline filthy, almost off the fucking rails. Sana doesn’t like to play fair when she pulls Dahyun off of your cock, the drag of her tongue stripped off with a line spit connecting to her lips that’s soon catered to Sana’s mouth kissing Dahyun again, and the sight in itself is a blessing that you’ll never take for granted, how their faces tilt every second they meet, the smile breaking at the corner where you could notice them, delicately letting their fingers explore their faces, hooking into their hair and necks, the rise and fall of their shoulder every breath taken.
Sana’s head spins out of control when she’s pushed onto the pillows of the bed, propping on her elbows while Dahyun spreads her knees apart more, kissing up the line of her inner thigh. “Dahyun,” she rasps, head reeling back when she’s getting close to the center, “I’ve been dreaming of this to happen for so long: you eating me out while your husband is oh- looks like he’s already ahead of the–”
You don’t pay attention to their short exchange of words, relishing in the taste of Dahyun’s pussy, licking past the slit when you grip her asscheeks a little more tighter, a slip of the tongue over her clit, lapping up in the ways that you know your wife likes.
Like the trail of clothes to the bedroom, your vibrations transfer up to Dahyun’s mouth and into Sana’s cunt; it’s a connecting line of fucking when you slide your tongue deeper, where the heat is the most hot, hooking your arms over Dahyun’s thigh’s while Sana grips her head, whimpering the moans where she’s left struggling for air.
“Look at us, Dahyun, shit, he’s eating away at you, you’re eating away at me, this is so fucking good.”
Sana’s the first to sputter, the amount of hums in approval, cracking under the faults. You and Dahyun are on the same page when you’re slipping two fingers in - then three; Dahyun catches on while getting fucked over, adding her four fingers into Sana’s stretching pussy. She’s gonna lose it.
That whine she makes, when she’s over the edge, it’s the missing symphony in your ears.
“Yes, I’m cum– gonna fucking cum,” she cries out, Dahyun leans all the way in, back arched in a way that would rival a gymnast. The way your fingers are clutching at her snowy skin, enough to easily scratch and draw bruises, she’s quivering when you’ve also made her reach the peak like Sana: these meaningless sounds, air getting more static through their tracheas.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Dahyun whines out matching Sana’s volume, hips tensing while your mouth is pressing against the pucker of her ass, tongue and finger tag teaming while she fucks Sana through her sensitive pussy, past the first hurdle of cumming and skating a pair of fingertips over her clit, making Sana lock her knees while the circles on her nub continue, speaking complete nonsense and in mewls.
“I’ll fuck you now, just like you wanted.” you spit, pulling yourself closer to Dahyun by the hips, her whole body relaxing when you have the head of your cock, skimming the folds of her pussy while Sana cradles her head on her boobs, leaving languid kisses while Sana puts her legs up underneath.
“Need it–” Dahyun pants, only to be shut up by Sana kissing her again to keep her dazed.
“What do you need, honey?” you ask, leaning forward to kiss the line of her back, hand massaging her waist before you retract your hand up the dunes of her hip, onto the divot of her hip while impulsively smacking your wife’s ass that makes her yelp at how hard you hit it.
“Your cock- need your cock inside me-” She can barely answer while she’s drunk at the teasing of your cock along her pussy while Sana’s lips work her neck. “Need you to fuck me.”
“Well, he’s gonna have his work cut out for you isn’t he?” Sana asks, massaging Dahyun’s waist while the top of your thigh meets Sana’s ass, licking your finger to make her squeal when you rub it on her clit, and you get several. “Fucking our brains till we’re drained.” she tells you, watching as you stroke the length of your cock. How long could you hold out? How much can you handle? You’ll be good for us, let you easy- until you’re cumming a whole fucking mess.
Sana means business, Dahyun is already putty just waiting to be put back into a tube and spilled over on the bed. “You two will be good girls for me, and I’ll fuck you guys right.”
You mean what you say, it’s in existence. And when you push your head into Dahyun’s perfect pussy, the opening rips out a tone within her that you’ll always remember - sucking in an air at the clamp, taking you all the way. Sana smiles at the wince Dahyun makes, holding her face when you pull back, slowly thrusting halfway, the tightness leaving you speechless.
That very moment where you’re sinking - where you don’t even have to say anything. (Because Dahyun was just made to take your cock that doesn’t feel undeserving at all.) Her ass is spread out, cunt gripping the whole fucking length while she buries her head into Sana’s neck. You could also hear a hush come from Sana’s lips while you’re still fixated on your cock disappearing inside of Dahyun.
“Just-” Dahyun sputters, the octave in her voice going up pitch by pitch, fucking her soaking hole while you’re pushing everything to the possible ability you can, where you can feel the clench around your head, sobbing, hands over the dough of her ass, getting her cock drunk until you senselessly empty yourself inside her.
“Harder,” Sana chides, tongue on the neck while she’s the supporting beam of the shaking girl laying on top of her. “I want her to be broken in two.”
So you keep pounding, this familiar angle with your hips to where Dahyun has died before, shrieking while she feels like she’s floating in her head. When you see her head move over to the side, her profile in view, you’re blown away by the fade of her blush, Sana’s hand underneath to her chin, her back arched to the highest point she could possibly have it in, pistoning yourself in like it wasn’t the daily routine as it is, not ever realizing that it would never stop being like this.
When her moans reach the apex, you could see Dahyun mouthing something, a wobbling lip hindering for her to even say the words properly - Baby, I’m gonna fucking– cum so hard on your-
One final push in, and her entire lower half shakes, a dam finally cracking under the pressure.
Sana’s just there to admire the artwork of her face, while reassuring that everything will be taken care of once all of this is done, a kiss to the lips while your cock continues to slowly plunge deep, cumming on your hips, the warmth too comfy to even leave. This would be great, one more sense of presence in the bed that will be a mainstay from now on.
“Look at you doing so well for him,” Sana says, and she’s still laughing, drunk on the sounds of Dahyun while her half-lidded eyes are telling a different tale. “You’ve missed his big fucking cock, fitting so perfectly inside you, hmm? Look at how much you creamed all over him, ugh, filthy.”
Dahyun just shudders while you’re massaging her inner thigh, pulling the head of your cock out of her fucked pussy, slapping the head agasint the sensitive clit, and you chuckle lightly at the small twitches she makes every hit that she feels; once, twice, thrice, and even the fourth.
“Was that enough to satisfy you?” you ask, learning over to get your face in between the two pretty girls, getting a whiff of your wife’s hair while Sana’s quick to plant her lips on the cuff of your ear, bold, trying to hide how badly she wants the next go at you railing her. “Could you take more tries before your cunt gets my load all up inside of you?”
“She’s not gonna answer that for you right away.” Sana sliding herself down, her fingers fluttering around your shaft. She does these circular motions alongside the skin that had your head sideways the other day back on the couch, realizing how sterile you were at being delicately handled, she’ll play that to her advantage, and she always finds something new.
“Now that you had your fill with her,” she continues on with this while showering Dahyun with peppered kisses across her breasts. “Don’t you think I should have a go? Make you throb to the point where I get to feel the teeny bits of precum before you burst?”
“Sana, that’s not nice.” you tell her, lightly tapping Dahyun’s waist, leaning over to the nook of her neck to whisper something. Have her something to do while keeping Sana’s mouth occupied, because I hate how she doesn’t shut up about things like these. And Dahyun follows along, still coming down on her high, shimmying her way up on her knees and when she finally hovers over Sana’s face, you see the quick peek of her tongue tip in preparation while your fingers are working fast around Sana’s thighs, pulling her towards you and priming Dahyun for the perfect angle.
“Should we shut this little slut up, honey?’ Dahyun asks, biting her lip at you while you slapping your cock along Sana’s folds, to an amount enough for her to hide the growl coming out of her mouth. “I think she’s a little too antsy for the both of us.”
“Ladies first,” you smirk, providing the common courtesy, dipping your cockhead in before backing out, catching the small ‘fuck’ being let out by Sana. Dahyun takes the quick moment of weakness as an opportunity to finally sit on her face, her hand also quick to rub her clit while the woman’s open mouth on her pussy starts to tear away at the threads, and you know Sana well enough to describe the feelings.
It’s listed as this: tight, so fucking tight to the point that it should be considered to a world class delicacy that’s not meant to be enjoyed leisurely.
That sharp draw of air through the thin lines of your teeth, finding that leverage into her cunt, easing into her, trying not to get ahead of yourself when she’s finally flush with your hips. You could hear the hum of satisfaction through Dahyun, her hand gripping Sana’s hairs between her legs, lightly grinding her cunt over her wet, hot mouth.
“Right there, yeah, there we go.” How your cock stretches alongside the walls, spreading her apart. It’s always a real show to keep both eyes open on, no quarter of the inch left behind. Sana would be this tornado that swoops in places, taking people off their feet. In trade for that, she offers a grace with her person - a vibe that comes off as rich, tied to materialism, to be used as a personal fucktoy when the time is right, and that instance of ‘time’ happens to be legitimately, every time.
You could take days to figure out how you managed to get in this position. It’ll only take you hours, minutes; hell, maybe even less than a few milliseconds to wrap your head around the fact of how full you make Sana with your cock, providing the same structure of strokes, slowly building up pace like with Dahyun a few minutes ago.
“How’s he feeling, Sana? Does he fill you up well like he said that he would?” Dahyun finally says, hair curtaining the right side of her face while Sana’s eyes can only look up while her mouth works her pussy again. The gluttal sounds of moans and chokes and smacks of Sana’s lips on Dahyun’s other lips, the only thing that she can do while you’re splitting Sana apart, her also doing some small movements so that she could fuck herself back onto your cock.
Dahyun pulls her hips up for Sana to speak, “Oh baby, it’s fucking me so deep. Want him - want daddy to fuck this pretty pussy–all for him.”
“Is that something you can do…fuck her cunt the same way you fucked my cunt?”
This takes a pause, flashing a gaze to Dahyun while you could feel the muscles flex in Sana’s legs and hips, driving yourself into her continuously, keeping a rhythm in check. The demand that’s being proposed doesn’t even register in your mind and Dahyun does this swift motion of doing a complete one-eighty of her hips, pressing her ass down onto Sana’s forehead, leaning over with a hand onto her waist while the other pulls your face in with her small fingers. You’ll have to pay attention, because her lips are quick to keep you from snapping out of Sana’s perfect pussy.
“What are you asking me to–”
“I want you–” one kiss to get you drunk from Dahyun, “to fuck her properly–” another kiss to keep focus, “until she cums–” nothing wrong with having a third kiss, “all over this perfect cock.”
Your hand is quick to reach across for Dahyun’s breast, kneading it in a way that she knows that she’s still yours, her eyes flickering down to the sight of your cock sinking back into Sana’s blown cunt, floating a pair of fingers on the clit, watching as you tear her apart, not wanting to shy or look away herself.
Sana’s quick to pull her face off of Dahyun’s ass, gasping for air before sweeping the flat of her tongue across her pussy once again, “So fucking perfect for me, daddy, please, don’t stop,” is what she says to you while you can see her legs go limp slightly from the sides.
The creaks of your lofted bed frame are singing at the shift of movement between the bedsheets and pillows, pulling yourself (with Sana inside still) up to the edge, planting both of your knees when you bottom yourself a little bit more deeper. You notice the image of Sana’s face fucked out, how she’s blushing, twisting her head to the right with her eyes closed, Dahyun manages to stave off to the side, taking a momentary break while you carry on with teasing Sana’s swollen clit, getting a few whines, moving her head against the sheets in a brief tantrum.
“Had enough yet?” you had the frame of asking, smiling alongside the line of Sana’s neck while the temporary angle of your cock just nudges that one spot you’ve managed to hit a couple times, the symphony of Sana’s little ‘oh’s’ when a small move of the hips just has Sana’s cunt clenching the head of your cock to send you gasping as well.
“Stop - stop with the questions,” she huffs, body stiffening before the wave of relaxation when you’re leaving more pretty bruises along the drawn canvas of her middle, licking up the deserved sweat of your hard work that’s also staining the sheets, along with the soaking that’s between your legs and hers.
You get a command, Sana looks up in a panic when Dahyun tells you to start fucking her harder, lifting the small of her back to get her horizontal with the mattress.
The levels just only seem to go up higher than then; Sana’s eyes being pulled down and rolled back. She knows you’re hitting the right spot, because of how she’s lightly pulling her legs up, you doing most of the support when she’s drawing these hitches of air, shuddering all over your waist while you push her beyond that edge. Her head is doing this bobbing motion when you slide with that upstroke, and you could feel the drag of her nails digging into your forearms that would seem accidental in another circumstance.
Dahyun plays spectator, catching her breath, hand toying between her thighs while you’re fucking the girl beneath you into a spilled puddle all over your lap.
“Are you seriously getting off without my help?” you ask, effortlessly gliding into the folds of Sana’s cunt. “Touching yourself while your best friend is taking my cock, sweetie? God, look at her, she’s wrecked.”
Sana pulls you in with little strength she has left, able to get her arms around your neck and shoulders, tightening that pull even more against you.
“Want you to cum,” she pleads, “I want you to cum inside and just, fuck, you don’t–” It’s miserable, hopeless, the power you have to just do exactly that with the way both Dahyun and Sana are both moaning and panting and just straight up rubbing both of their swollen clits while the length of your cock is still drowning in one of them.
It’s how you do these broad strokes, slowly, strategically, a technique that you’ve perfected over the amounts of times you’ve got yourself completely fucked over, balls tapping above the pucker of Sana’s ass when pulling yourself in from the top of her thighs, a holding point while doing the best punishment of teasing you could ever do for someone like her.
(Calling Dahyun over: shut this bitch up for me, please?)
It’ll do you numbers in which: you’re still fucking Sana insanely hard still, with Dahyun’s head hovering above the present action.
Sana’s clutching on to Dahyun’s leg, pressing her eyes into the skin, not wanting to let this fantastic feeling ever end, muttering all of the lovely things that she’s told you before multiple times. You could see the tug on her lips, tilting your head at how familiar the look was because you’ve seen it the first few times at how she couldn’t believe that you’d feel this good inside her, to get her stomach transformed into ashes and have her seeing stars. Sana’s body is “Pandora’s box’ full of lust, just waiting to be opened until you’ll give her opulence of what she needs from you, to fill her up.
“Fuck her through and through,” Dahyun orders with this hint of anger, “need to see her cum–”
“Give me your mouth, princess,” retreating from Sana’s exhausted cunt and getting Dahyun’s mouth all over you, cleaning up the mess of Sana’s slick right off of your length, stomach dipping when her throat swallows almost the entire half.
Your ears are zeroing in on the gags your wife is making on your cock, doing a double feature while her fingers are rubbing Sana’s clit to keep that ache, grasping a high ponytail with one hand, sucking away that will have you dreaming that the tension is almost tempting of spilling inside her throat right at that second. Dialing back with what little warning you have left, slipping back into the other hot warmth below her chin.
Despite the numbness clouding your brain, the obscene sounds of hums and whines tie in perfect tandem while you’re gliding back into Sana’s cunt, alternating between the tender rings of muscles, stretching around your cock in a one-two step: Dahyun’s mouth sliding and slobbering down your length, teasing Sana with your cockhead in her cunt massaging the walls around that squeezing vice.
You’re not at fault for when it happens: face red hot from within, the sound that rips through your vocal cords while your knees buck at the sensation of Sana’s ass bouncing back off the edge of the bed, and the small gyration of her hips when you’ve driven all the way to the hilt, she can sense it too.
Again, you’re not at fault for the way your cock pulsates that first second inside Sana’s sopping fuckhole, the first shots at the deepest pit where you could take it, twitching while you’re trying to save yourself from losing all of it from the first hold. Any second longer inside that lovely heat will have you rethinking your life choices up until this point.
You pull out, fist tight around your cock when you could see the lower point of your tip, giving an act of generosity firing another shot of cum inside Sana, cock out in the air where Dahyun sees the opportunity to lean in, drinking in the remaining spill that–
Scratch that, it’s not remaining, because you’re cumming everywhere.
There’s drops of white spilling from the front of her lower lips, pumping out the leaks on the flat of Sana’s stomach. Shit, you even managed to get a few globs on Dahyun’s cheek, even up to Sana’s right tit. It’s all fucked, you almost topple over on top the both of them, the arm serving as a last gasp foothold while the color drains from your face.
Dahyun pushes you up with both of her hands, staring at you with the splotches of your release slowly sliding down alongside her cheek. She’s taken aback with the load, but what she does with it–
(Well, don’t be surprised. She’s the love of your life for god’s sake.)
Two fingers skate off some of the cum off her profile, rubbing it on her lips. You draw yourself away while Dahyun helps Sana sit up on the bed, her hand quick to dip under her cunt where she picks up more of your cum that you’ve spilt inside. Sana catches on quick to lick off the cum off of Dahyun’s cheek, tongue sliding across the plane to swallow, the small ‘mms’ and audible smacks of lips colliding. Dahyun just laughs when she examines her palm, placing it underneath her mouth and Sana’s both of them licking the dribble up like two birds in a bath, washed over with sweat and slick and filthy and–
“So fucking gross,” Dahyun says, finger to the arch of Sana’s brow, wiping a wisp of hair off. “Like, are you gonna be so full of yourself–”
“Hey,” Sana tuts, “Don’t get all mad now that I’ve managed to push his buttons better than you.” She then slumps herself over Dahyun’s lap, hand massaging her waist while Dahyun leans back on her palms, crossing one leg up the edge to support her head. They both get secluded in their own little world, whispering these different sayings to each other with a soft smile at one, a scrunched nose to the other.
You manage to slot yourself to the side, next to Dahyun, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, “I thought this wasn’t a competition over me.”
The pair simply roll their eyes, Dahyun runs her fingers through Sana’s hair, unconsciously, affectionately. They’re still coming down from all the fucked out clarities while they simply - just - look. Being proven wrong wasn’t that much of a loss in itself; in fact, it was actually inviting when you’re giving them the same confused expression that has the brain questioning everything from the plain existence to whether or not this new reality was even sustainable amongst the three of you.
“We could all agree to an accord together,” Sana says enthusiastically, “like distinguished human beings- or, something like that.”
(I mean, there’s a blueprint to draw up for that extra room anyway, but you’ll get to that later.)
–
It’s during one Saturday morning, when the plates and bowls of today’s breakfast are already in the sink, you have a single carry-on duffel bag in your hand, placed on the highest step of the stairs, taking in that crisp air through your nose. Everything comes to a gentle slope, the clouds are high up in the sky, meshed up together, shielding the landscape from the beaming sun, and the time hasn’t even hit noon yet.
“I just don’t get it.” you beam, elbows on the railing while your eyes get caught up in a pair of blue jay’s gliding past the street, fascinated by the companionship of nature. Only to have your attention drawn to the awaiting car on the driveway, Dahyun’s personal chauffeur (and to this day you’re still wondering if that person even gets paid or not). “All of this trouble of having a vacation, get reeled back into working, have more time off than expected, but still decide to take up another work order again?”
Dahyun steps out the doorway, slapping your arm, leaving your face with a small wince that you play off with dead eyes. “I could call Nayeon to put in a word for Momo. If you’re making such a big deal out of it, I might as well tell them myself that I wanted more time off than need be.”
“You said that it was work related.” you tell her as the counterargument.
“But it’s not!” Sana bursts out, all smiles while you’re walking down the pathway with another bag in your hand onto the asphalt. “Such a buzzkill, as if you didn’t want the whole place to yourself to burn down. You spend wayyyy too much time up in your little office, so consider this to be punishment.”
“Where did this come from?” you ask, flustered, with arms up trying to play the innocence card.
Dahyun pulls Sana’s singular luggage from her hand and into the trunk of the car, the bag you were carrying also next to be put before a shut off of the compartment. “We’ve been planning this for sometime, and now we’ve decided to do it. Together.” She pulls up her own passport with an airline ticket shoved in between the pages. You could probably guess where they’re going, judging from the assortment of clothes that they’ve packed, it must be somewhere tropical, like Cancun or in the Bahamas, maybe even Malaysia was on the cards, but you take it with a grain of salt.
“Is this supposed to be a besties trip that I didn’t even know about until now?” you ask the two girls standing behind the car, leaning back onto the glossy material of the paint job while your arms are bridged between your chest. “I’m also assuming that this is predetermined–”
“Stop being so analytical.” Sana groans out, “You really have to think twice about what our summer plans were?”
“Maybe he just needs a few conditions.” Dahyun adds on, nudging Sana’s shoulder to which her face suddenly lights up in excitement. “Besides, he’s really good at reading between the lines, like, you know, he has a good thing for body language - go ahead, test him, I’m sure that he’ll show off like he always does.”
(It’s how you catch yourself shaking your head downwards to the Earth, hiding the grin that’s breaking on your face because Dahyun knows how well you observe your surroundings. She’s trying to play dumb at the fact that she went ahead to grab your duffel bag while getting the shower ready for yourself. You also notice that Dahyun’s driver got her roughly about ten minutes early to put your bag in the trunk and pretend that nothing ever happened. It’s cute when she gets sneaky and mischievous, because Sana will always buy into what she devises to get you stressed, a migraine pounding through the back of your head, taking it out when you have both of them moaning underneath or straddled on top of you.)
So you say: “Are there any guarantees to this if I do what you ask?”
Dahyun puts her passport out in front, shifting her thumb over to show yours underneath. You pretend to be shocked with lifted eyebrows, but you already have them figured out.
“Honey,” Sana says, blinking with her teeth peering through her smile, “I can guarantee that you've got us both.”
#twice smut#sana smut#male reader smut#kpop smut#minatozaki sana#twice sana#kpop fanfic#male reader#twice x male reader
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Hammarby
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Georgia Stanway x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Georgia's new shirt is horrifying
You stare at her, eyes wide.
Georgia isn't quite sure why you're staring but you are.
You'd come into the locker room this morning with Magda and Pernille and sat in Pernille's cubby like usual.
Unlike the team, you come into the locker room already wearing your training shirt and boots. Pernille had once said that it's easier to get you ready at home then let you change with everyone else.
Georgia's frown deepens the longer you stare at her.
At some point during the time Georgia's been here and the time you've been here, you've slipped away from Pernille's cubby to stand in front of her.
"You feeling okay?" Georgia asks, confusion still seeping into her bones the longer you stare up at her," Is something wrong?"
You bite your lip and point at the shirt she was just folding up.
"Is that an AIK shirt?" You ask.
"Er...yeah?"
You wrinkle your nose up in disgust and turn away, hurrying off like Georgia's just murdered a kitten or something. You duck behind Magda, clinging to her tightly.
"Morsa!" You say, looking halfway to tears," I don't like Georgia anymore!"
"Hey!" Georgia exclaims," What?! I haven't done anything!"
"You have!"
"I haven't!"
"You have!"
"I haven't!"
"Georgia," Pernille pipes up," You're arguing with a child."
"We're not arguing!"
You scoff. "Yes we are!"
"We're not!"
"We are!"
Magda sighs, lifting you up onto her hip. You're getting a bit too old for her to be doing this but she doesn't really care.
"Why don't you like Georgia anymore?"
You shake your head. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, you can't just say you don't like Georgia and then not give a reason."
You take a deep breath before pointing accusingly at Georgia. "She came in wearing an AIK shirt!"
Pernille buries her face in her hands. "Oh no."
Magda whirls around. The fond smile she had previously been wearing was contorted into a look of pure horror.
"An AIK shirt?!" She demands and Georgia gets the feeling that she's done something egregious.
"Yeah? What's wrong with that?"
"What's wrong-? What's wrong with that?! Are you serious?!"
If Georgia wasn't currently terrified for her life, she'd make a joke about how similar you and Magda clearly are because you've get matching looks of outrage on your faces.
"Now you've set her off," Pernille mutters.
"AIK are shit!"
"Princesse! We don't use that language!"
You give Pernille a petulant look. "Morsa says that I can call AIK shit because they are! She said it's the only time I can use that word."
"She's right!" Magda declares decisively," AIK are shit and I can't believe you've done this! In front of my child?!"
"It's just a shirt!" Georgia sputters," What is going on?!"
"Magda is a Hammarby fan," Pernille explains," And so is Princesse. Both clubs play in Stockholm so..."
Georgia nods. "A City and United situation."
"A little bit."
"I can't believe you've done this!" Magda continues," This is meant to be a safe space! Look at her!"
You're sobbing now and Georgia's ninety percent sure they're crocodile tears but still, they make her feel awful.
"AIK is shit!" You repeat through your tears," Hammarby is better!"
"Hammarby is the best!" Magda says," It's okay, princesse, Georgia didn't mean it. She doesn't understand because she isn't Swedish. We'll help her learn from this."
"You're both so dramatic!" Pernille rolls her eyes, pushing you both out through the door before turning to look at Georgia again. "Don't mind them. This always happens when they find out something related to AIK."
"And the-?" Georgia gestures over her eyes.
"The tears? Yeah, a hundred percent fake. Magda told her it would make more people change their allegiance to Hammarby."
"They have...strong opinions."
Pernille stares at the closed door. "Yeah, Princesse inherited the flair for the dramatic."
Georgia chuckles. "How do you put up with them?"
Pernille gives her a sly smile. "I just don't mention AIK."
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso#the big adventures universe
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alpha!steddie x omega!reader
Part Two.
summary: after some disappointing news, you start to question your role in this whole situation. also lots of sex
cw: SMUT. omegaverse and everything that comes with it. lots of cum, "public sex", mmf, dvp, breeding kink, free use, eddie wears a muzzle, feral eddie
an: sorry this took so long! enjoy a lot of must to make up for it.
“Well, she’s not pregnant.”
Steve folds in his chair, face landing in the palms of his hands as he audibly sighs. Eddie shifts next to you in his seat, his knee landing on top of your thigh as he crosses his legs. You chance a look up him. His expression seems fairly neutral, not that he should really be surprised by the news anyway.
After a long two week waiting period, you’d spent the last 4 days waking up and taking a test. You’d wait the allotted time and then, with shaking hands, you’d flip the testing strip over, only to find it negative once again. Every time you’d tell yourself that it was just too early and that you’d try again tomorrow.
Any minuscule change you’d notice in your body had you wanting to rush back into the bathroom again just to check. A little nausea, slight pain in your breasts. Was that an implantation cramp? You didn’t even know what an implantation cramp was until you’d read over the book on pregnancy Steve picked up for you on his way home the week after your cycle. The two of you took turns reading it, discussing whatever contents the book went over during dinner while Eddie did his best to understand what you were talking about.
So when you finally broke it to them earlier this morning that you’d been testing negative, Steve called the doctor right away to get you in as soon as possible. Even if he was trying to hide it, you could still see the sadness in his eyes. His disappointment continued to hang in the air of the small four walled room of the fertility clinic.
“I’m sorry to deliver bad news, but I wouldn’t fret too much.” The doctor who was assisting the three of you in this arrangement was a small, older omega woman. She’d been assisting couples since before you were born and you were able to tell by your first appointment with her that she really knew her stuff.
“Even normal alpha and omega couples can take more that one try to conceive. And the three of you have several factors against you.” She looks at each of you.
“None of you are bonded for starters.” She flips through some paperwork on her clipboard, eyes scanning the page as she talks. “I know that you all are choosing a more…traditional method rather than doing any kind of insemination.”
Steve lift his head from his hands, “There’s no way our insurance would have covered any of it if we--”
“I know, Mr.Harrington. Let me finish.” The doctor says with a slow nod.
“Sorry,” Steve says, shrinking back a bit.
“I’m not here to judge, and, honestly, you’re better off doing what you’re doing. But, I just have some questions I want to ask, to make sure that you’re not doing anything that may make this take longer than necessary. Is that alright?”
Steve nods, and when the doctor looks to you and Eddie over her glasses, you both nod as well.
“Good. Now, are both of you taking part in this process or just one of you?”
“Both.” Steve and Eddie say simultaneously. The doctor nods, “Okay, and are both of you knotting at the completion of intercourse?”
Heat rises to your cheeks at the question. You know it’s part of the process, but talking about your sex practices with another person makes you want to disappear into the wall behind you.
“Yeah, I have been,” Eddie responds, almost gloating thought you’re not sure if he’s aware of it in his tone. “Almost every time.”
“Really?” The doctor raises an eyebrow at him before shifting her gaze over to Steve. “And you?”
Steve shifts, visibly uncomfortable. “I did once.”
The doctor looks at him for a moment before writing something down on her clipboard.
“Well,” she starts, “I understand knotting can be a different experience for each alpha. Usually it’s harder for an alpha to prevent one rather than having troubles achieving one…”
Steve leans forward, waving his hands dismissively. “That’s not--Jesus, I’m not having a problem with knotting. I’m just not…I’m not letting it latch. I’m…I’m pulling out.”
The doctor gives Steve a “what the fuck” look, and you can hear Eddie trying to contain a giggle under his breath.
“Mr.Harrington, I don’t really understand how you think that’s going to help your situation.: The doctor sighs, “But, it only takes one sperm to impregnate an egg, and it seems Mr.Munson is more than willing to make up for your reluctance.”
Steve rolls his eyes, sitting back in the chair with a huff. You place a hand on his leg as a reassuring gesture. He looks down at you, still clearly upset. But after a moment, a small smile tugs on his lips, and his hand comes down to rest on top of yours.
You barely register the way Eddie’s body moves closer to yours when the doctor addresses you directly. You sit up straight, giving her your undivided attention as she asks you a series of questions about your heat cycles and if you’re taking your vitamins. She writes several notes on her clipboard, giving small nods and hums of acknowledgment as you talk.
“Good, good. Everything sounds like they are going as they should. I suspect that your body most likely just needed some time to adjust to being off of your heat suppressants. Sometimes it can take a month or two for an omega to be fully fertile again. But once they body is back in it’s natural state, omegas tend to get pregnant almost immediately.”
Steve’s hand squeezed yours lightly.
“One to two months?” Eddie asked, eyes narrowed as he looked at the older woman.
“Yes? Is that a problem?”
“It’s not necessarily a problem,” he starts, leaning forward a bit in his seat, his hand resting on your knee. “But, what if we go another cycle and end up in this same situation next month?”
Steve looks at Eddie for the first time since you all arrived. You’re pretty sure they’d been talking about you not being pregnant while you were getting ready for the appointment. They seemed oddly distant since you came down and found them not talking to each other in the kitchen.
“Well, there are some things we can do to try an increase your odds for her next cycle. Tell me, when are the two of you due to go into rut?”
“I should have one in about 3 weeks, but Eddie’s not due for a month and a half.”
“I see. And you’re due for another heat here in the next week, correct?”
You nod, “Tuesday or Wednesday is what I’m predicting.”
The doctor hums, then pushes herself on her stool to the little counter top on the other side of the room. She grabs a pad and pen from a drawer and starts writing, tearing the top one off and writing again on the next. Once she tears the second slip, she wheels back over to the three of you, handing Steve and Eddie each a prescription slip with their names on it.
“These are prescriptions for inducers. Go get them filled today, but don’t take them until Monday. They take about 24 hours to kick in, so by Tuesday evening both of you should be in full rut. If you need notes for work let me know and I can write them for you.”
“They have drugs that do that?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve.
Steve shakes his head. “Wait a minute. I get why you’re giving us these, but…doesn’t it seem unsafe for us both to be rutting around her. Especially if she’s going to be in heat?”
The doctor eyes Steve. “Depends on what you’re worried about happening? She’s not your mate so you’re not competing over her. Sure, you’ll be more ‘feral’ for lack of a better word, but the two of you will still know who the other is. Unless you’ve already had issues…”
Steve looks at Eddie with a knowing look, making him curl in on himself a bit bashfully. “I guess you could say we’ve run into some unexpected road bumps.” The doctor looks at all three of you with a suspicious look before shaking her head.
“Okay,” she says with exasperation, taking her glasses off and tucking them in her pocket. “So what exactly are you worried about? Fighting? Trying to mark her? Self control issues?” Steve and Eddie nod in unison and the doctor sighs once more, muttering something about alphas under her breath.
“If you’re worried about fighting,” she says, counting with her fingers,” I would suggest staying in separate parts of the house. Designate times between the two of you to be with her and try to keep interactions with all three of you to a minimum.” A second finger. “If you’re worried about marking her…well there’s always mouth guards like athletes wear. Or you could always get a muzzle. I think ones from the pet store would be the most reliable.”
The mental image of Eddie and Steve in a muzzle made you feel a type of way that you didn’t want to explore in this doctors office right now, so you tuck that into your mind for later.
“And if you’re worried about self control…well, that’s something the three of you will have to figure out on your own. Maybe buy a leash at the pet store as well.” The doctor rises from her chair, barely standing much taller as she shakes all of your hands.
“Hopefully when I see all three of you again we will be having a different discussion. Until then, if you have any questions, try and contact one of my nurses instead.”
“I’m not wearing a damn muzzle, Eddie.”
Steve stands with his arms crossed at the end of the aisle as you and Eddie look at the different size dog muzzles. Eddie crouches down, holding his hair back as you place the different sizes and shapes over his face to find one that he finds comfortable.
“How about this one?” You ask, placing one of the small rubber pieces over his mouth. Eddie looks at you for a moment, then pretends to lunge at you like a rabid dog, making you jump back in surprise. “Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You shout at him, followed by a fit of giggles. He puts and arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him as he laughs.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “Try it again, please.”
Without warning you push the muzzle against his face and snap it shut behind his head. He looks at you with surprise, leaving you to step back to get a better look.
“What do you think, Steve?” You glance over your shoulder to find a very amused Steve eyeing his husband with a raised brow.
“I think it looks great,” he says with a sarcastic lit. “Maybe you should wear it all the time.”
“Awe, don’t be like that, Stevie,” Eddie says with a look of innocence. “How am I gonna suck you off if I have this thing on all the time?” Steve falters for a moment, but regains his composure quickly.
“I think I can manage.” Steve’s gaze lands on you for a barely there moment. One that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t already looking at him.
“Are you sure you don’t want one of these? Ya know you can get a little grumpy during your ruts?”
Steve tenses. “That’s because…” A hand runs through Steve’s hair. “Nevermind. You guys finish up here. I’m gonna run next door and check on our meds.” Without another word Steve is out the door. Eddie shakes his head before reaching behind it to unbuckle the muzzle.
“Eddie?” You look up at him with sad eyes. He’s at your side in an instant, hands on your shoulders as he looks at you with concern.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Is Steve…are…are you guys mad at me?”
Eddie reels back as if you’ve asked the most offensive question he’s ever heard.
“What? W—of course not! Why do you think that?”
“I mean, I’m not pregnant, so that would be one reason…”
Eddie steps to the side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in for a side hug. His embrace melts away at your anxiousness. He’s warm against you, soothing, even through your layers of clothes.
“We’re not mad at you about that, okay?” He shakes your arm lightly, urging you to look up at him. “Obviously we knew that it might not work on the first try. Did we want it to? Sure. But that doesn’t mean we’d be upset or blame you for it.”
“But Steve…” you bite your lower lip, “he just seems so…off today.” Eddie sighs, letting arm fall from your shoulder and back to his side.
“Steve’s just…he’s a little overwhelmed with work right now. So much happened at his job the last week we took off to, well, you know. I guess someone made an error in some documentation or something and he’s been playing catch up ever since.”
You frown. You had no idea that Steve was going through so much burden at work. He must be a master at not bringing his work issues home with him, always coming through the door with a smile on his face. Him and Eddie seemed to be fine, too. And, despite your worry of it begin awkward after finally sleeping together, you all got along like everything was fine. “Wow, I-I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay, he didn’t want to have you fussing over him about it. He’s probably more worried about having to take another week off than you not being pregnant.”
You nod. Something about Steve not telling you about him being so stressed makes your heart ache. A little voice in your mind is telling you to go find him and comfort him. A little voice that you’ve been noticing ever since you moved in with Steve and Eddie.
It’s almost like you can sense their distress, but it seems to be stronger with Eddie than with Steve. Though, Eddie does wear his heart on his sleeve and likes it when you dote on him, especially when he comes home with a new cut or bruise and you insist on treating it. If you try and bring anything up with Steve, he just brushes it off and changes the subject.
“Hey, we gotta pay for this!”
Eddie’s voice pulls you from your mind. At some point you had grabbed Eddie’s hand and started to leave the pet store, him stopping you just at the threshold.
“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
“You guys are still in here?”
You snap around to find Steve right in front of you, a plastic bag in on hand as he holds the door open with the other.
“We’re about to check out,” Eddie says, pulling you towards the line. But you can’t keep your eyes off of Steve. Every stress line on his face becomes painfully obvious to you and all you want to do is smooth them out for him. You guess this is why he didn’t want to tell you. But when had you become someone who gets so upset by things like this?
“Shit.”
Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat, as the three of you pull up to the house.
“What’s wrong?” You ask from the back seat, leading around to try and see what Steve was worried about.
“Did you tell me Robin was coming over and I forgot?” Eddie asks Steve, nodding towards an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Stave nods, running a hand down his face.
“I told her we would go out with her and Vicki for drinks when they were back in town. I guess I’ve been so preoccupied that I forgot that was today.”
“Okay…well that shouldn’t be a problem…” Eddie says slowly, pulling up next to the car and putting it in park. “But with the way you’re talking, you’re making it sound like it’s a problem.”
Steve huffs out a frustrated sigh, his head rolling to the side to look at Eddie.
“I haven’t…They don’t know about…” Steve’s gestures back to you. Eddie’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open in shock.
“You didn’t tell them about…Wait, do they even know we were doing any of this?” Eddie’s hands move wildly as he talks.
“I told them we had been talking more about kids, but I didn’t tell them exactly how we were intending on having them.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie huffs, rolling his eyes. “So we have to walk in there and say ‘oh, hey guys, nice to see you. By the way, this is the girl we’re fucking so we can have a baby.’”
You tried really hard to keep it in, but a snort escapes you and catched both men’s attention. They both look back at you as you cover your mouth with your hand, waving the other defensively.
“I’m sorry,” you say through giggles. “It’s not funny, but I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell your friends. We’re you just going to hide me in my room for 9 months or something?”
“No, no!” Both of them start talking over each other and it only makes you laugh more.
After you reassure them that you didn’t actually think they were going to hide you away, the three of you came up with a quick game plan on how to explain things to Robin and Vicki. It was funny to see the two of them nervous to enter their own home. You could feel the nerves rolling off of both of them as they stepped inside.
You caught a glimpse of Robin, who you’d seen in pictures around the house, sitting at the island. Her eyes were on the TV, mindlessly scooping chips into your home made salsa before she noticed you all come in.
“There you guys are!” Robin scoots off of her seat and comes bounding towards Steve and Eddie, wrapping her arms around the both of them. You couldn’t smell her, but you could tell she was an alpha by the way she carried herself. Tall, with piercing eyes and a sureness about her that told you she could go toe to toe with someone if they messed with her. She was beautiful enough that she could be a model if she wanted to; someone who belonged on a magazine cover.
A smaller, mousier girl rounded the corner. Her curious eyes met yours instantly, and you quickly clocked her as a fellow omega. “Hey guys, who’s you’re friend?”
Robin takes a step back and peers around Steve until her eyes meet yours as well. “Woah, I didn’t even see you there.”
“It’s okay,” you say. You introduce yourself, and look over to Eddie and Steve to take care of the rest.
“Um, Bobbie, Vicki, we, uh…” Steve starts out confident but falters as he starts to overthink everything.
“This is our surrogate!” Eddie accidentally shouts, startling you and Vicki. Robin’s jaw practically hits the floor, eyes darting back and fourth between the two men before landing on you.
“Wait, so you’re pregnant? Who’s is it? Did you guys do like a russian roulette thing or did they like mix your swimmers together and shoot them up her--”
“Robin!” Steve steps forward with his hands up, clearly distressed as Eddie practically keels over with how hard he’s laughing.
“Hi, I’m Vicki.” Her voice pulls you from the commotion in front of you. You take her soft hand in yours and give her a small smile.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you guys since I’ve been here.”
“Oh? Do-do you live here?” Her head tilts with confusion. You nod, your confirmation somehow catching Robin’s attention.
“Wait, she lives here?”
“Yes, she lives here,” Steve says, backing up to address the room. He gestures to you, “And she’s not pregnant. We just got back from the doctor to confirm it.”
“Awe,” Robin pouts, “I’m sorry. I just heard surrogate and assumed she was already pregnant.”
“Yeah, well, hopefully that’ll change here soon.”
“That’s so exciting though!” Vicki claps her hands together excitedly. “A little baby Steve or Eddie running around here.”
“Oh, god,” Robin laughs, “Which reminds me that you didn’t answer my question. How are you doing the dad thing?”
“Maybe we should go sit in the living room, then we can give you all the juicy details,” Eddie says, opening his arms to herd everyone into the other room.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Robin--”
“No, sorry, that was a rhetorical what.”
Robin and Vicki sit across from the couch you’re sharing with Steve and Eddie, who just explained to them the basics of your arrangement. Vicki, though confused at times, seemed to be doing her best to understand the dynamic of your situation. Robin, however, listened the whole time with an open mouth smile as if she’s not heard a better story in her life.
“I’m just…I don’t know. Like obviously I’m happy for you guys. Do,” She looks at you with wiggly brows as she says “do”, “whatever works for you.” She pauses for a moment to look up at the ceiling before looking back down. “Can I ask you a question though?”
“Robin,” Steve growls, and you feel both boys subtly move closer to you.
“Guys, it’s okay. Seriously.” You scoot util you’re sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning away from them. “Ask away.”
“Thank you,” Robin says, shooting Steve and Eddie a look. “I’m just curious about what you’re getting out of this. Sure, they’re taking care of you now, and they’ll take care of you until the baby is born. Then they get the baby and live happily ever after…But what about you? Like, you’re just going to go through something super traumatic and beautiful…and then you’re going to leave?”
You’re taken aback a bit by the question. It was all lined out in the contract that you’d give birth and then your role would be complete. What else was there to do? You’d hope that they’d maybe let you recover a bit before finding your own place, but they weren’t obligated to.
But the more you think about it, the more you actually hate the idea of not being around them.
“She’s going to stay here with us until she feels comfortable enough on her own.” Eddie speaks up after a tense silence took over the room.
“I get that, but, like, are you guys going to stay in contact? Is she going to stick around and play nanny to her own kid?”
“Robin.” Steve stands up abruptly, throwing everyone off guard. “I need to talk to you in private. Please.”
“Steve, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to look out for all of you--”
“Please.” You feel yourself shutter as the air in the room shifts. You feel Eddie flinch, and Robin’s jaw snaps shut. She stands up without another word and the two of them head out the back door, leaving you to feel awkward with Eddie and Vicki.
“So,” Vicki finally says after a moment, “How’s the shop going Eddie?”
The two of them talk like old friends, doing their best to add you into the conversation so you feel included. At some point, Eddie put his arm around your shoulders on the back of the couch, his knee resting on top of your leg like it had earlier at the doctor’s office.
“Nothing alcoholic for you I’m guessing?” Robin leans into you so you can hear her over the loud music of the bar.
“I mean, I’m not pregnant, so it’s okay, right?”
She shrugs at you, “I guess you better ask the dingus’s if it’s okay.”
Steve and Eddie stood a few feet away talking to each other about something you couldn’t hear. Hopping down from your seat, you walk over to them, their conversation coming to an end as soon as you get close enough.
“Everything okay?” You shout.
“Yeah, fine,” Eddie says in a clipped tone, turning his body completely away from Steve to face you. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Robin wants to know if it’s okay if I have a drink. I know I’m not pregnant but I figured I’d ask.” Steve looks at Eddie, then at you, frustration written all over his face.
“As long as it’s not going to affect your heat,” Steve shrugs before walking away. Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in defeat.
“I feel like I’m missing something,” you say to him.
“It’s nothing. Why don’t we get you a drink, huh?” Eddie takes your hand and walks with you back to the bar side. “Oh, and be careful around Vicki. She might not look it, but that girl will drink anyone under the table.”
“Noted,” you chuckle.
The four of you do a round of shots after Robin insisted, your face pinching at the after taste of the tequila. Eddie laughs and takes your hand, bringing the lime in it to your mouth to suck on. You take it and are relieved to have the palette cleanser on your tongue.
“Wow, you took that like a champ!” Vicki shouts. She’s clearly a social drunk, opening up more now that she has a little something in her system. Robin, however, shifts from her seat suddenly, a concerned look on her face.
“I’m gonna go find Steve,” she says with a slight slur. When she takes a sideways step, Vicki follows after her, making sure she stays standing on her quest to find Steve.
“I don’t know why they’re looking for him,” Eddie shakes his head, taking a sip of his beer. “I was just out there to check on him.”
Eddie had been periodically going out to bring Steve drinks for the last hour and a half. Apparently he ran into a old friend from high school and they’d been shooting the shit the whole time. Eddie told this to Robin, too, but the more she drank the more concerned she became.
“She’s a good friend.” You say, looking up at him with a sideways smile.
“Yeah, she is. Funny as hell, can’t handle her alcohol at all.”
“I guess so,” you giggle. You play with the straw in your glass while Eddie finishes off his beer, setting it down on the bar before wiping his mouth with his hand.
“You know, I used to play shows here,” he says, looking down at you with lidded eyes.
“Oh, really?” You knew Eddie played guitar. He has a whole room dedicated to music and his guitars on the opposite end of the house. You haven’t gotten to see him play, but you sometimes here the low strumming coming from the room on his days off.
“Yep, me and my old band. We’d play for, like, 20 drunk guys on Tuesdays. It was fun.” There’s a nostalgic gleam in his eyes as he recalls fond memories from his younger years.
“I’m guessing you’ve gotten a lot of action here, too,” you say, nudging his arm with your elbow. He barks back a laugh, shaking his head.
“God, I wished I had. Believe it or not, I was a total loser back in the day.”
“What? Really? No one was throwing themselves at the guitar player?”
“No, unfortunately I wasn’t any of the 20 drunk guys type,” he said with a sarcastic lit.
“Damn, I would have been,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “That was totally my type back then. Still is I guess.” The alcohol in your system starts to take over, lowering your inhibitions and bringing out the chatty side of you.
“My ex was a bassist for this suuuuper shitty band. Don’t know how they managed it, but they toured with a couple other bands, opening for them and whatever. Anyway, I went on the road with him because I didn’t trust him. Shouldn’t have even bothered quitting my job and leaving my hometown just to make sure he stayed faithful, because he ended up fucking soul bonding with our fucking waitress at a Denny’s in Michigan.”
“Soul bonding?”
You look up at Eddie, his brows pinched in confusion. “Yeah, you’ve never heard of it?” He shakes his head. “It’s like, when you see someone for the first time and you instantly become bonded to them. Like permanent marking without the bite.”
“Woah,” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “I didn’t know that was even possible.”
“I don’t think it happens super often, but apparently it had to happen to my ex right in front of my face.”
“How do you even know? Like that you’re bonded to someone?”
“All I know for alphas is that they can’t get it up for other omegas, only the one that they’re bonded to. For omegas you can get super sick if you try to have sex with another alpha. I think you can drop, too. You also, like, really feel attached to that person, even if you don’t know anything about them and already have a girlfriend.”
“Wow, that’s crazy,” Eddie says, visibly astonished.
“I guess,” you mumble. Eddie finally catches on to your disgruntlement after the shock wears off. He puts his arm around your waist and pulls your side flush with his.
“Well, that’s his loss. Stupid bond or fate or whatever it is. And I know it still feels shitty, but I feel like…it was a good thing. Because if you had stayed with that chump then we wouldn’t be here now, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose so.” You didn’t really think much into the meaning of Eddie’s words. Especially not when he asked if you wanted to go with him to get some fresh air while he smoked.
The cool air hitting your face felt so refreshing compared to the heat from the packed bar. There weren’t many people out on this back patio, most of the noise coming from the front smoking area.
“Want one?” Eddie asks, offering you a cigarette from his pack.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.”
You don’t know what it is, but the way Eddie uses his teeth to pull a cigarette out of its box makes you feel a type of way. You’re sure it’s from the alcohol, but you also couldn’t deny that he was attractive anyway. He was rough, tatted, smelled amazing. But he was also gentle, caring and attentive. In another reality, maybe the two of you could have been meant for each other.
“Take a picture, sweetheart,” Eddie teases. You had been staring at him and he caught you. But, at the moment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.
“Not as good as the real thing,” you say matter of factly.
“Hmmm, got me there.” The smoke bellows from his lips as he talks, being swept away with the wind. The chill cuts through for you, making you visibly shake.
“Come’er,” Eddie says, opening his arms for you to embrace him again. You rush into him, your face colliding with the material of his chore jacket. It smells faintly of the grease from his work, but mostly of his natural scent that you gladly let invade your sinuses. He wraps his arms around you, letting his lips land on the crown of your head. The heat of his body instantly warms you up and you feel…at home.
“Eddie.” You move your face from his chest, looking up at him as his face is mere inches from yours. He barely gives you a second to think before his lips are crashing into yours. The feeling of fireworks erupting in your mind has you gasping It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt in a kiss before. You stand in shock, not fully processing what’s happening until you feel him pulling away.
“Are you okay?” His eyes shift between yours, looking for an answer to his question before you can speak it.
“Eddie…you kissed me…”
“Yeah…and?” He says it so passively, as if he doesn’t have a whole husband standing on the other side of the building.
“But--But, Steve-- I--I don’t--”
“Didn’t you say free game in the contract?”
You’re suddenly very aware of how very hard Eddie is as he’s pressed up against you and it sends an ache straight to your core. You did say that you’d be willing and available any time that Steve or Eddie wanted you…
You look up at Eddie through your lashes and nod. The devilish grin on Eddie’s face gives you the chills. And when he kisses you again, it melts those chills away, stoking the flame building up inside you.
Shuffling feet and slamming doors, Eddie pins you against the door of the men’s restroom door. Your lips move feverishly against each others, fighting for dominance in your drunken stupor that you would have given into easily otherwise.
Eddie fumbled with his belt until it finally came undone, wasting no time to get his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock and heavy balls. You mimick his actions, undoing your jeans and pushing them down with your panties in one quick motion, letting them pool at your ankles.
He pulls away from you, a line of spit that connects your lips to his red, kiss bitten ones. His eyes are glassy as he looks you up and down, giving you that predatory glare that you’d became accustomed to from your previous times together.
Suddenly, he’s spinning you around until your facing the bathroom door, leaving stickers and old posters to fill your vision. One of Eddie’s rough hands lands on your hip, pulling on you until your bent at just the right angle while the other grabs his hard cock to rub between your legs. He collects your wetness on his cock, and you gasp when you feel the head catch on your clit.
“Mmm, fuck.” The alcohol on his breath hits your nose as Eddie leans forward, his hand is braced against the door next to your head and pressing you into the cold metal. You feel his hard, broad chest against your back, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist tightly.
Not a moment later you feel him breech your entrance. The stretch takes your breath away, feeling so different when you’re not under the haze of your heat. He stutters as he works you open for him, doing his best to restrain himself from just pushing all the way into you. A high pitch whine escapes your lips when his head hits that sweet spot.
“Right there, baby girl?” Eddie huffs in your ear, repeating the same movement with a sharp thrust.
“Yes!” You cry out at the sensation, nodding your head vigorously.
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he says, nosing his way into the crook of your neck leaving sloppy kisses into your skin as he starts to thrust into you over and over.
His cold hand sends shivers through you as it snakes it’s way under your shirt, pushing under your bra to grab and fondle your tits. He pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, the feeling sending shocks straight to your core. It all feels like too much already, but when his other hand travels down between your legs, you feel like your legs might buckle under you.
Your vision goes white as you come undone, pussy clenching around Eddie’s cock as he fucks you through it. He groans as you squeeze his cock, panting against your ear as his pace starts to pick up. His arm around your waist is putting in work to hold you up as you come back to reality, your legs feeling like jelly from how hard you came.
“Fuck, I wanted to do this all night,” Eddie babbles breathlessly. “Wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter when you came downstairs. Who are you all dolled up for, huh?”
You had gone the extra mile getting ready to go out tonight. It was totally because you wanted to look nice, and nothing at all to do with Steve and Eddie. You totally weren’t trying to get their attention with your low cut top and vanilla perfume.
At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.
“N-no one,” you squeak out between thrusts. Eddie huffs out a laugh, his forehead resting against your shoulder for a brief moment before pulling away from you. His hands hold you up by the hips, keeping you in place as he plows into you.
“No one, huh? You’re just dressed up for anyone and everyone to look at you? Hoping you might catch someone’s attention out here?”
“Maybe,” you say. It was meant to be teasing. You weren’t really sure why he was so concerned about people looking at you to begin with.
But Eddie didn’t like that answer.
“Sounds like I need to remind you who you belong to,” Eddie says with a low growl. And when you thought his pace couldn’t get any more relentless, he started to fuck into you with purpose, barely pulling out before pushing back in. He angles himself to hit that spot inside of you again, sending you hurtling towards another orgasm at lightening speed.
“Fuck, Eddie!”
“That’s right, say my name, sweetheart.”
You chant his name like a prayer until he answers. Your orgasm hit’s you like truck, leaving you speechless as you cum harder than you ever have outside of your heat. Eddie follows right after you, pushing himself flush as he cums deep inside of you, filling you with his hot seed.
“Goooooooood damn,” he groans, keeling over you with full body shutters. More grunts and moans pour from him as he stills, giving you the chance to start to come down as the overstimulation stops.
Just as you feel your post orgasm clarity kick in, you notice a familiar swelling feeling starting to grow inside of you.
“Woah, woah, hold on!” You straighten yourself, pulling away from Eddie as quickly as you can before his knot fully locks inside of you. Turning around, you watch as the base of his cock swells into a ring of muscle around his shaft.
“Ahhhhh, shit,” Eddie says, grabbing his knot and shaft with his hands, taking his bottom lip between his teeth with a pained expression.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you say with genuine concern. You’ve heard about how sensitive a knotted alpha’s cock can be when an omega’s body can’t keep it covered. Apparently any little bit of friction is torture, like sandpaper to an exposed nerve.
“Fuck, why did you pull away?”
A sudden thunderous knock has the both of you jumping. The both of you adjust your clothing back to place, Eddie tucking his still hard cock into the waistband of his jeans, before opening the door.
Fully prepared to do a walk of shame past a stranger out of this bar’s men’s bathroom, your blood go cold when you find yourself face to face with Steve. He looks straight at you, an anger in his eyes that you’d never seen before.
“Oh, hey, babe,” Eddie stutters out, clearly more worried about his own problem rather than being caught by his husband fucking another person in a bathroom. Steve doesn’t even look up at Eddie, his beautiful Hazel eyes locked on you.
“Both of you, go get in the car,” Steve finally says after what feels like an eternity. “We’re leaving.”
“Okay,” Eddie nods. He walks up behind you, grabbing onto your shoulders to walk you forward, when Steve grabs his hands and pushed them off of you. Eddie’s caught of guard by Steve’s actions, pure shock all over his face.
“What’s you’re problem?” He questions his husband. Steve wordlessly grabs you, pulling you out of Eddie’s way until you’re fully by his side.
“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Steve grits through his teeth. Eddie looks at Steve, the tension between them thick enough that you could cut it with a butter knife.
“Fine,” Eddie finally says, storming off and leaving you with Steve.
“Are you okay?” Steve’s voice was softer now. You dared to look up at him, his brows pinched with worry as he seemed to be looking you over.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine Steve.”
“Did he cum inside you?”
The question has you reeling back. You didn’t know what to say. Obviously he knew the two of you fucked, but the queston didn’t seem to come from a place of anger. Rather, he seemed to be genuinely concerned if Eddie had finished inside of you.
“Y-yes?” You shift in place, as if acknowledging it suddenly made you hyper aware of the sticky feeling between your legs.
Steve sighed, his hands running through his hair in frustration.
“I’m sorry. He gets handsy when he’s drunk. I don’t know why he didn’t just come to me.” Steve moves closer to you, his arms positioned as if he was going to wrap them around you. But, he suddenly backs away with an almost anguished look.
“Steve, I’m so-”
“No,” he cuts you off. “Don’t apologize, this isn’t your fault.”
You’re honestly not really sure what Steve is upset about at this point. Maybe there was something that him and Eddie discussed outside of your arrangement that you didn’t know about? It was probably too much to bring up tonight, but you would definitely need to sit down and talk with them about boundaries first thing tomorrow.
The drive home was anything but quiet. You were almost afraid to get in the car since Steve had been drinking, too, but he assured you he wouldn’t put you or Eddie in danger if he felt he couldn’t drive. Steve drove home white knuckling the steering wheel as Eddie lets out little whimpers and moans from his seat.
You thought his knot would have gone down by now, but his inebriated state and the pressure of the seatbelt across his lap was making him miserable. You felt awful for having to leave him in that state, watching him subtly buck against the strap to feel any sort of friction. But the idea of being locked to him when Steve found the two of you was like a scenario from your nightmares after how upset he was earlier.
When Steve pulled into the driveway, Eddie sighed in relief, unbuckling his seatbelt with lightening speed and hopping out of the car as soon as it stopped moving. Just as Eddie was about to open the front door, Steve stepped out of the car and called for him to wait. Eddie looked back with distress, waiting and watching as Steve rounded the car to let you out.
“I want the both of you upstairs as soon as we get inside, waiting for me on the bed, without touching each other until I get there. Do you both understand?”
Steve’s scent penetrates your nose, putting you in a submissive haze that has you nodding without question. You walk to the door, Eddie’s eyes on you as you push past him into the house and up the stairs.
You sat quietly on the edge of Eddie and Steve’s bed. After a few minutes Eddie pushes through the bedroom door, a prominent wet spot visible on his tee shirt where his precum had been dribbling out from the constant stimulation. He didn’t say anything to you, instead he sat next to you on the bed, just far enough away that you wouldn’t be touching each other. A whimper escapes his lips when his jeans drag down his still hard cock, the outline of it visible as it presses against his shirt.
“Did I get you in trouble?” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. You keep your eyes on the carpet between your feet, not having the courage to look at Eddie in the face.
Eddie huffs out a choked laugh, his curls bouncing in your peripherals.
“I got myself in trouble,” Eddie’s voice has a sultry lit to it, “But…the punishments are always worth it.”
Before you could really process what his words might mean, Steve pushes open the bedroom door, causing you to jump where you sat. The look on his face was unreadable, which made you feel more uneasy than if he was wearing his anger in his features.
You take the opportunity to look up at Eddie. His eyes were locked on Steve, a shit eating grin on his face as he looks his upset husband up and down. When you follow his line of sight, you see Steve’s cock is straining in his jeans.
“Undress. Now.” Steve commands, looking at you as if to see how you’d react. Eddie begins to pull his shirt over his head, putting his tattooed skin on display for you and Steve to admire.
When you realize that you’re not about to get a lecture, you waste no time in joining Eddie. You strip your clothes piece by piece, trying to keep up with how quickly Eddie is discarding his own. Once you’re down to your panties, Steve stops you before you can yank them down.
“Slowly,” he demands. His features hard as his eyes watch the way you slide your lacy panties down your thighs at a leisurely pace. You advert your gaze from his, focusing on removing your last article of clothing in a way that pleases Steve.
As you pull the material down, you watch as a string of Eddie cum stretches, stuck on the crotch of your panties from where it had leaked out of you. It finally breaks as the panties reach your knees, the sticky spend clinging to the side of your leg.
Eddie curses under his breath, his vocalization snapping Steve out of whatever trance he was in.
“Clean it up.”
Eddie looks up at Steve confused. Steve repeats himself, a thick finger pointing to your leg where the cum was sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You look back and forth between them, unsure of what you should be doing.
When Eddie doesn’t move, Steve sighs, and grabs his hand, leading him over to you. He instructs Eddie to get on his knees, which he does without question, his big, brown eyes on Steve as he waits for further instruction.
“Ugh, do I have to walk you through it?” Steve asks with annoyance. But he doesn’t give Eddie the chance to answer before he’s grabbing the back of his head and guiding it between your legs.
“You made this mess Eddie. Clean. It. Up.”
Eddie’s tongue making contact with your skin startled you, making you instinctively jerk back. The bed behind you keeps you from moving very far, Eddie’s tongue chasing you as you move. You watch in awe as Eddie laps up his own cum from your skin, his blown out pupils looking up at you as moving higher and higher up your leg.
Just as Eddie’s about to reach the apex between your legs, Steve pulls him back by his hair. Eddie’s eyes roll back as he lets out a low grown from the force. He smiles up at Steve, whose expression is back to being stony and unreadable.
Steve says your name, making you stiffen at the sudden attention.
“I want you on your back, head down here,” he says, pointing to the foot of the bed. You wait for a moment for any further instruction, but Steve only punctuates his demand with a sharp, “Now.”
You do as instructed, your head at the foot of the bed and your feet almost to their pillows. Steve tuts, motioning you to move further down the bed until your head is hanging off the edge slightly. After he hums in approval, he directs his attention back to Eddie, whose cock jumps in excitement when his husband looks down at him.
“Don’t get too excited,” Steve says, tugging at Eddie’s hair again.
“Kinda hard not to when you do that, big boy,” Eddie breathes out, his toothy smile on display. Steve sucks in a sharp breath before letting go of his grip on Eddie’s hair. He points towards the head of the bed where your feet lay.
“I want you to get yourself nice and comfortable between her legs,” Steve nods towards you, “because I want you to use your tongue to get every last drop of your cum out of her pussy.” Eddie’s eyes light up, but Steve continues on. “Ah, ah, let me finish. This isn’t a reward. I don’t want you to touch her with anything other than your mouth. No. Hands. And you’re not going to touch yourself either. Do you understand?”
If Steve’s stipulations were meant to upset Eddie, he surely didn’t succeed as Eddie still nodded with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. When Steve gave him the go ahead, Eddie sprang up from where he was on the floor and up onto the bed. The mattress dipped and shook as he crawled over your body, using his hands to part your legs so he could make himself comfortable there. You let out a giggle at his animated movements, his hands rubbing together before settling his face an inch away from your pussy.
“I do want to apologize in advance,” he says, looking as if he’s talking to your pussy instead of you. “I’m a big fan. Never been so close to one of you in person before, though. But I’ll do my best.”
You gasp as Eddie presses his face into your heat, his tongue darting out to lap between your folds. He’s sloppy with his movements as his tongue explores every inch of your pussy. When he gets to you clit, your body jumps from the sensation and you see his eyes light up at your reaction. He repeats his movement again and again, giving you pressing kitten licks that send jolts throughout your body with each one.
A hand lands on your cheek, wrapping around your chin until it has your lips puckering in its grip. Steve tilts your head back to look at him, but all you see is his thick cock hovering over your face, blocking Steve from your view.
“Open up, sweet girl,” Steve coos at you, his thumb tapping against your cheek. You open your mouth without protest. “Mmm, such a good girl,” he says, grabbing his cock and tapping the head on your tongue. His precum lands on your tongue and you moan at the taste.
Eddie’s tongue suddenly breaches your hole, the muscle digging deep inside of you as he laps away at the cum he left inside of you at the bar. Steve takes advantage of your gasp, pushing himself inside of your wet mouth, just enough to not trigger any gag reflex you might have.
Between Eddie’s tongue and Steve’s cock, you feel borderline dizzy at the push and pull sensation of being between them. Steve’s large, alpha cock stretches your mouth to its limits while Eddie’s inexperienced tongue works over you, testing to see what makes you tick until he’s got you bucking against his face.
When Eddie gets his tongue as deep as he can possibly reach it, his nose presses into your clit roughly, moving in a way that has you suddenly seeing stars. Your thighs clamp around him, locking his head in place as you soak him with your slick. Steve lets out a groan as you moan around his cock, his hand suddenly on your throat as he stills himself.
You brace yourself the best you can to take his cum, but he pulls out of you completely instead.
“Fuck, move!” He shouts, motioning for Eddie to leave his spot between your legs. Eddie pries himself from your thighs and scrambles to get out of Steve’s way.
“C-can I--” Eddie stutters in a pussy drunk state, grabbing his cock in his hands and pumping the almost purple tip slowly.
“Do whatever you want,” Steve says between gritted teeth, positioning himself on his knees before guiding his cock towards your entrance. Eddie rounds the bed, taking over where Steve left, positioning himself over your. You open your mouth for him and he chuckles, pushing his cock past your lips as far as you’ll let him go. He whines again, beginning to fuck your mouth while his knot presses into your nose with every other thrust. You can’t quite take the whole thing, so you wrap a hand around it for extra stimulation.
At the same time, the head of Steve’s cock pushes inside of you, slipping in without much resistance after all of Eddie’s efforts to work you open tonight. He slides himself inside of you until he’s fully inside before he begins to rock into you with sharp thrusts.
When you gag hard after a particularly hard thrust from Steve, Eddie stops his movements and lets the momentum of your body do all the work. You feel Eddie lean forward over you. From the angle you’re in, all you can see is Eddie’s balls swinging in front of your face, but you can hear the smacking sounds of Steve and Eddie kissing over your body as they fuck you. It hits you hard how you’re being used as nothing more than a toy for their pleasure, the realization sending you full throttle towards another orgasm.
“Shit,” you hear Steve hiss. And not even a moment later, you feel him push his cock as far inside of you as possible, his hot spend filling up your spasming walls as you continue to cum hard on his cock.
“Oh my god--” Eddie huffs, trying to pull his cock from your mouth. But you keep a firm grip, letting his seed hit your tongue and roll down your throat, swallowing over and over with every spurt.
After a synchronous moment of ecstasy, clarity begins to seep into each of you. Steve pulls out of you with a gasp, grabbing you by the legs and pulling you down until your head is back onto the bed, effectively pulling Eddie mostly out of your mouth. Eddie stumbles back the rest of the way, crouching down until he’s back on his knees, his head landing next to yours on the bed.
Steve leans over your, cupping your face in his hands and bringing your attention to him.
“Are you okay?” His concern is apparent in his pinched brows and shifting eyes. You smile up at him, leaning into his large palms and kissing a freckle there. He lets out a sigh of relief, pulling away from you to sit back on his haunches.
Eddie shifts next to you, his tattooed arms folding around your neck as he presses his cheek into yours.
“Did so good for us, sweetheart,” he coos in your ear, his lips pressing into your temple. You turn to face him, and he kisses you again, his lips pressing into yours softly. You can’t help but smile with how sweet it is.
But the kiss is broken as your suddenly pulled forward. Steve pulls your body into him, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He’s glaring down at Eddie, whose only response is a knowing look and a raised eyebrow.
“Do you not want Eddie to kiss me?” Your voice pulls Steve’s attention. He hates how you’re looking at him, wide glassy eyes full of unwarranted concern.
“It--it’s not that,” Steve says, “it’s just…”
“Steve wants to kiss you too, but he thinks you don’t want to.”
“Eddie--” Steve shouts, scoffing at his husband.
“Steve, you can kiss me.” Steve tenses, his grip on you tightening. “I think it would be silly to say you can’t kiss me after letting you guys put your dicks in my mouth.”
Eddie barks out a laugh. He climbs up on the bed and positions himself behind you, wrapping an arm around you and pressing another kiss to your cheek.
“Come on, Stevie. How can you say no to this face?”
Steve’s eyes dart between yours and Eddie’s, the gears turning in his head to the point you were waiting to see steam come from his ears. He sucks in a breath and you’re certain that he’s going to say no.
But, he brings a hand to your face, holding it in place as his lips meet yours. They’re soft, quite the contrast to Eddie’s rough, winter chapped lips. The fireworks feeling goes off in your mind again. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol with Eddie, but you’re too sober now to convince yourself.
Steve deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that has your stomach flipping. You couldn’t help but keep comparing it to Eddie’s. Where Eddie’s kiss was one of desire, Steve’s feels greedy. The way he hold your head in place, it feels like he wants to consume you.
“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around you in an attempt to separate you and Steve. “I’m gonna get hard again watching the two of you make out like that. So either we get ready for bed or I’m dinging the bell for round two.”
A second round didn’t sound too bad in theory, but the way your body felt like a bag of sand as soon as Eddie mentioned getting ready for bed had you voluntarily slinking off of their bed and onto shaky legs. Steve and Eddie stayed close behind, the three of you squeezing into their walk in shower and taking turns grooming each other.
The days following up to the start of your heat were…mostly normal. Steve was busier with work as he tried to get everything in order before taking another week off. He spent a lot of time in his office, only coming out to get his plate and take it back behind the closed door. Though, he did add you to his pecking order, mindlessly kissing your temple and then Eddie’s as he read over reports or whatever kept him preoccupied.
But where Steve was absent, Eddie was the opposite. Spending most of his free time with you while his husband was busy, Eddie followed you like a lost puppy. You kept him busy, though, having him help you prep for the three of you to all be cycling together. He helped you prep meals that would be easy to reheat, clean the house, and safety proof their bedroom, along with various other tasks that you could think of.
The day before your heat came, your body let you know by making you insatiably hungry and extremely exhausted. Steve and Eddie took their inducers when they noticed the changes, getting you settled for the day before the two of them would inevitably pass out as the drugs took effect, the tell tale sign of an alpha going into rut being their extended sleep period the hours leading up to the cycle.
As your body slowly started to slip into your heat, you felt yourself wanting to slip into Steve and Eddie’s room more and more. But as long as you still had some sense, you told yourself that you’d be spending the next week with them in their most feral state and to just enjoy the little time to yourself that you had.
But as you lay in your bed trying to sleep, all you could think about was what the outcome of this week was going to be. It would take a miracle for you to not get pregnant by one of them by the end of it all. You’d be lying if it didn’t scare you a little bit. After all of the things you’ve read in the pregnancy books Steve’s gotten for you, there’s no way that you wouldn’t be at least a little on edge.
The end is what was starting to scare you the most. Specifically how you would feel after the baby is born. Robin’s words from the other day playing back over and over in your head.
Even with the naturally nurturing disposition of your second gender, you hadn’t really considered yourself someone who wanted to be a mother. That was partly why you thought you’d be a good match for this gig. But you’d read that even betas go through hormonal changes that omegas go through when they become pregnant and give birth that bonds you with your baby.
You’d thought about bringing these concerns up with Steve and Eddie, but you decided that you didn’t want to stress them out. There was a contract saying you wouldn’t have any parental rights anyway, so it’s not like you had much choice on the matter at this point.
The sound of slamming and clanking woke you up from your sleep. Your body was hot, your tongue stuck to the roof of your very dry mouth. Your mind was in a haze, the smell of alpha pheromones in the air was so thick that it was becoming impossible to think of anything beyond your primal instincts.
Rolling out of bed, you follow the sounds down the stairs and into the kitchen. The mixed pheromones were so strong that you were gushing slick before you could even see the two of them.
The kitchen was a mess. Licked clean plates scattered all about the counter tops. You had a thought coming to your mind about hoping you prepped enough food, but it was quickly forgotten when you were suddenly pushed back against the wall behind you.
The room spun with how fast you were moved. The sudden close proximity with your alphas had your knees buckling under you. Strong arms hold you up as got tongues lap at your skin. There’s a bit of growling between them, but your needy whines keep refocusing them on you.
Opening your eyes after a moment, you look at the two men before you. Goosebumps trail over your skin as you take in their feral forms. Everything about them is enhanced; they’re taller, bigger, having to hunch down for their mouths to connect with your skin.
With almost empty looks in their eyes besides their almost completely blown out pupils, they remain locked on you as if you’d disappear if they looked away for even a moment. They man handled your clothes off you right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving you fully exposed to them in a matter of seconds.
Without warning your being lifted off the ground and whisked away, back up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Your body lands softly on the bed, with Steve joining you first. His hot skin burned into you as your chests collide, the weight of his body pinning you down. Eddie took the opportunity to fully undress while you and Steve distracted each other.
With all the heat and movement, you felt your slick starting to leak from between your legs. As soon as the first drop hit the bedsheets between you, Eddie and Steve stilled in their tracks. You felt a pang of fear as the air became thick with mixed alpha scents.
Eddie lunged towards you, but Steve was on the defense, covering you with his body as Eddie got closer. The bed shook as Eddie tried to pry Steve away from you. It got worse when Steve let go of you, and the two started going at it, wrestling each other on the bed next to you. You panicked, cloudy head unsure of what to do in the moment.
After a beat, your instincts kicked in. Climbing on all fours, you began calling out to them. Your mewling got their attention off of each other long enough for them to see you presenting yourself to them.
They pushed at each other as the crawled closer to you, a hand from each landing on either side of you as if they were making sure you would stay in place. You didn’t have much time to brace yourself as their tongues began to open you up, the two of them lapping at the slick just as soon as it was leaving your hole. And when it wasn’t enough, their tongues breach your entrance at the same time, fighting each other for who would get to go in deeper.
“Fuck,” you hear Eddie huff, and the bed starts to shift around behind you. Steve’s large hands take over, grabbing at your ass and spreading you apart more for him. His thick tongue is able to fully extend inside of you, darting in and out as he attempts to lick you clean. It feels insane, especially as his scruffy chin presses into your clit.
Suddenly, your first orgasm hits you like a brick wall, coating Steve’s face as he drank you up. It didn’t last long, however, because Steve’s face was quickly pulled away from you, most likely by Eddie by the sound of Steve’s reaction.
As quick as Steve’s face was pulled away though, the tip of Eddie’s cock was being pressed against you. Wasting no time, he slid in with ease, giving you no time to adjust before bottoming out. You gasped at how full you felt with the way the head of his cock was pressing into your cervix with how big he had gotten. All the ache you felt from your heat was washed away with the feeling of your alpha’s cock inside of you.
Eddie leaned forward, pressing all his weight into you. You thought he was going to get right to pounding into you, but instead he started moved with a hard hitting grinding motion. As if every thrust was purposeful, punctuated.
His arms were wrapped around you as he fucked you, keeping you under him in a primal way. Humping away, his movements eventually became more rapid and sloppy. It was truly animalistic. His grunting and snarling against your skin reminded you of a feral dog growling at someone trying to take his food.
When you felt something else prodding at your entrance you understood his reaction. You turned your head to get a better look and out of your peripherals you could see Steve from behind Eddie. Eddie started to slow, but it felt forced given the way he was whining in your ear.
When Eddie pulled all the way out of you, leaving just the tip at your entrance, you felt Steve’s tip position itself just underneath Eddie’s. A gush of slick spilled from you at the anticipation. You were happy with just one of your alpha’s cocks in you, but getting to feel them both again had you calling out for them.
The two of them started pushing into you, stretching you open like nothing you’ve ever felt before as their large cocks made home inside of your generous pussy. The feeling of being so full had your eyes rolling back, and you came instantly as the both of them bottomed out.
Eddie’s body shuddered against you, and Steve’s low groan let you know that they two of them were enjoying this just as much as you. Eddie began moving again, not liking that he had been made to stop in the first place. Steve followed after, moving in tandem with Eddie so that you were constantly being filled by at least one of their cocks at all times.
With every passing thrust you felt your brain become more and more like goo. You could only think of two words over and over in your head. Two words that fully expressed how you were feeling.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
You repeated the sentiment over and over, slightly muffled by the bedsheets your face was being pressed against. And you truly were thankful. You’d never felt so loved and cared for in your entire life that you felt being so connected with your two alphas in this moment.
Steve started to pick up his pace, and the stimulation had you cumming again. “Holy fuck, that’s tight,” Eddie grits between his teeth, mouth pressed against the back of your neck.
Everything became way too much very quickly. The constant state of pleasure had you cumming back to back without much of a break in between. At some point, you must have passed out because you woke up to the sound of arguing at the foot of the bed.
Opening your eyes, you see Steve has Eddie pinned down on the bed, their cocks brushing against each other as Steve straddles Eddie to keep him down. Eddie had his muzzle on, and it makes you wonder what happened while you were passed out.
“Wh-whats going on?” You manage to get out, shifting to move towards them.
They stop their fighting, looking at you with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?” Steve asks, breath picking up suddenly.
“Yeah,” you say with a nod, kneeling next to the two of them. The closer you get, the emptier you feel without the two of them inside you. “Miss my alphas.”
“Neither of you came,” you say, noticing the lack of cum inside you.
“You passed out,” Steve says, giving Eddie a pointed look. When you look at Eddie, you see that he’s actively fighting against Steve’s hold on him. He looked almost crazed, eyes locked on you. Dominant alphas are usually able to control themselves better during their ruts, but regressive alphas can be a little harder to handle, especially around an omega in heat.
“It’s okay, Steve,” you reassure. “I always want to help my alphas.”
You place a hand on Steve’s where he’s holding down Eddie’s arm.
“I don’t know,” Steve says wearily. “I think we need to reconsider--”
“Steve.” You say his name firmly. Hazel eyes shift has he looks between yours. With a heavy sigh his grip begins to relax against Eddie’s.
And no sooner does Eddie use all of his strength to send Steve flying half way across the room.
Moving with a lightening speed, Eddie is on top of you in a flash. It’s almost frightening, but you can’t contain your excited giggles as Eddie sloppily attempts to mount you again. You hold his face in your hands, and he stops in place, wide brown eyes looking at you as if waiting for your next command.
“Let Steve up here, first, okay?” You ask him. He nods, his hungry eyes not moving from yours, even as you peck his lips.
Patting the bed, you motion for Steve to rejoin you. The bed dips, shaking as Steve makes his way to the two of you.
“Let me get behind you,” he says, placing a hand on your back to push you forward. Eddie moves with you, maintaining eye contact even as Steve maneuvers his way behind you. Only when you position yourself to sit on Steve’s cock does Eddie have a reaction, a low growl coming from his throat. You shush him, stroking his cheek soothingly.
“It’s okay, Eddie,” you coo, his name coming out as a moan as you lower yourself onto Steve’s hard cock. The feeling has your eyes rolling back again, making you lose the eye contact with Eddie.
In an instant, he’s pushing you back until your laying against Steve’s chest.
“Eddie, take it easy,” Steve hisses, trying to shift his position for Eddie to have better access to your pussy as well. His hand snakes around you and grabs onto Eddie’s cock making him gasp. He begins to thrust into Steve’s palm, moaning and huffing at the feeling of friction.
Steve probably would have been content letting Eddie get off like this, but you were being just as whiny watching them. So Steve pulled out just enough and guided Eddie to your pussy once again. It took a couple tries, but he was able to get him in, and Eddie immediately began fucking into you with wreckless abandon.
The movement got Steve worked up pretty quickly, following with Eddie’s pace to fuck into you again. Eddie hovered above you, practically drooling in his muzzle as his body moved on its own in and out of you. It turned you on to no end to see him so fucked out over you in this state.
After a few moments, Eddie’s hand flew up above your head. His body stilled, cock twitching inside of you as you felt him about to cum. Steve was right behind him, both of their cocks deep inside of you as they began to cum. Warmth filled you, and at the same time their knots began to swell, effectively plugging you to take their seed.
It felt like an eternity before they both stopped cumming, Eddie landing on top of you still trembling in the aftershocks. Steve was breathing heavily beneath you, arms wrapped around you tight as he finally started to calm down, too.
The three of you lay like that for a minute, before Steve makes the decision to shift the three of you on your sides.
“Ow,” Eddie says, sounding more lucid than he has since you woke up.
“Sorry, I couldn’t breath with the both of you on top of me.”
The position was awkward, but more so for the two boys than you. You think their discomfort led to their knots going down at a quicker pace, because as soon as they could they were separated from you. Eddie was out like a light, snoozing as soon as his head his the pillows.
Steve still held you tight, breathing in your scent. His lips touched the base of your neck, leaving a small kiss there.
“Does it hurt?” He asks.
“Does what hurt?” You ask, unsure of what he’s referring to.
“Your neck, here.” He touches where his lips were.
“No? Should it?”
Steve is quiet for a moment.
“Do…you not feel any different…?”
“Not any different than I do during my heats,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this line of questioning.
Silence again. Steve says your name.
“Eddie…Eddie marked you. Or, he tried to…”
Your blood ran cold. When did he do that? It had to have been when you passed out. You’d definitely remember something like that happening.
“Steve--I--”
“It’s okay,” he shushes you. “I…I don’t think it worked…” Steve lets out a sigh. “I don’t think he could mark you now anyway…”
“What do you mean?” You turn to look at Steve, a look of forlorn all over his face.
“Lets not talk about it right now.” His words become breathy, and you can feel him rubbing his scent on your skin. His hips move against you, and you can feel his hardness against you.
After a few touches and some maneuvering Steve is back inside you once again. You’re trying not to be so loud that you wake Eddie, but Steve’s cock feels so good inside you. He’s working at an angle that has you gripping the sheets with white knuckles.
When he brings his big hands around you to rub at your bud you can’t stop yourself from crying out his name.
“That’s right, baby girl,” he huffs, still moving inside you. His grip around your chest gets tighter, pulling your back against his chest even more. “Tell me who’s fucking you right now. Who is it, baby?”
“You, Steve,” you moan. His demanding tone has you clenching around him even harder. It felt so right to be with him like this, but part of you was missing Eddie, too. It was tempting to wake him up to get him going again. But, you wanted to have your special time with Steve while you could.
“Such a good omega for me, aren’t you?” His words are slurred drunk on the feeling of your pussy hugging his cock so tight. “You’re going to be so perfect with my baby inside you.”
His words continue to make you dizzy. That’s all you want, isn’t it? To get pregnant with Steve and Eddie’s babies and live happily ever after with them. You want to be a good omega wife for them, you’d make them so happy wouldn’t you.
Steve’s movements become sloppy until he’s plunging himself as deep inside of you as he can go. His knot swells again as he fills you up for a second time; the second of countless more times you hope.
You remember that you’ll be spending the next 5-7 days being passed back and fourth between your two alphas and it makes you so happy you can’t help but tear up.
“Hey, whats wrong?” Steve says, snapping out of his trance as soon as he hears your sniffles.
“Nothing’s wrong, Stevie.” You chuckle, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m just…really happy to be here is all.”
Steve melts at your words, burying himself in the crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, his hot breath fanning your skin as he presses kisses against it.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Steve whispers just loud enough for you to hear. “He is, too,” he says, nodding towards Eddie’s still sleeping form. “He talks about you all the time. But I’m sure he’d say the same thing about me.”
“You guys talk about me that much?”
“Hmmm, probably more than two married men should.”
Your heart skips a beat. The heat of everything was lowering yours and Steve’s inhibitions. Would he ever tell you this if the two of you weren’t intoxicated on your own hormones?
There’s a comforting silence between the two of you. Eventually you drifted off to sleep again in Steve’s arms, his body heat keeping you warm while you slept.
You’re not sure what time it was when you felt your body being moved. You were being carried bridal style, and by scent alone you were able to tell it was Eddie. The soft click of a door closing had you opening your eyes, eyes adjusting to the low light from the sunsetting outside coming from the windows in the hall.
When you looked up at Eddie, he had taken his muzzle off, but still had a feral look in his eyes. Eyes that were darting around as he took you down the hall and into his music room.
You’d never been in it before. Not that you’d been explicitly told not to, but because Eddie told you that he liked to tend to it himself, so you chose not to enter out of respect. So when you found yourself inside, you couldn’t help but let yourself explore the room.
It was definitely very Eddie; walls painted red, band posters covering the wall, as well as a few frames with records in them. There was quite a collection of guitars and speakers that took up the rest of the wall space.
Besides a desk with a computer, there was a small couch that also furnished the room. Eddie made a bee line for it once he closed the door behind him. He placed you down delicately and lowered himself to his knees. His eyes were locked between your legs, tongue darting out to lick at his lips as if he was a starved animal and you were his next meal.
“Eddie,” you say in a breathy tone. His eyes dart up, looking at you expectantly. “What do you want, Eddie?”
“You. I want you.” His hands land on your knees, rubbing up and down your thighs sensually. The roughness of his fingers gives you goosebumps down your legs.
“Please,” he begs, eyes flickering back and forth between yours and between your legs. Your breath hitches and you nod, slowly parting your legs for him.
As soon as you’ve made yourself open for him, Eddie dives right in, feverishly devouring your sore, puffy pussy. You’re so sensitive already, but Eddie takes your gasps and moans as a good sign and keeps going.
Eddie’s large, tattooed arms wrap around your legs and pull you closer to the edge of the couch as you begin to shake. His mouth is attached to your pussy, drinking you up as you cum hard. Eddie makes an almost pained noise, his own body shaking against the couch after a few moments.
You look down, and the combination of how he looks with the sudden strong alpha smell in the room tells you that he just came. It only turned you on more when you realized it had to have been untouched, given his arms had been snug around your thighs this whole time.
“Awe, Eddie,” you coo, “Did you cum from eating me out?”
Eddie looks up at you pitifully, nodding with shame.
“I-I’m sorry,” he pouts, as if you’re going to scold him.
“It’s okay, Eddie.” You cup his face in your hands. “You just really like eating pussy, and that’s okay.”
“Your pussy,” he corrects. “Yours. It’s the only one I’ve ever had.”
That fact heats up your body head to toe. You’ve been Eddie’s first everything when it came to him being with an omega. It made you feel so special to be able to give him something he’s never had before.
You shove Eddie down onto the plush carpet of the room, his eyes going wide as you climb on top of him. His leaky, still hard cock jumps in your hand as you pump it a few times. Eddie’s big eyes watch as you line him up with you, only for his head to fly back as you sink down onto his length.
“Holy fuck,” he groans, hands running over his face as you being to move, bouncing and grinding on his cock.
“Wanna be good for you, Alpha.” The words come out broken as you bounce up and down, hands digging into his tattooed chest when you start to pick up the pace.
Eddie’s hands fly to your hips, and you think he’s going to stop you. Instead, he uses all his alpha strength to hold you up, adjusting his footing so he can drill upwards into you. It just about takes your breath away, your brain turning to mush as he fucks into you wildly.
He starts to say something under his breath that your brain can’t comprehend. It takes a few moments for you to get yourself together enough to register whatever prayer he’s repeating over and over.
“Get pregnant, get pregnant, get pregnant--”
His words send you over the edge, making you cum hard enough on his cock that your vision turns white, your body going limp in his grasp. He takes advantage of your pliant status, letting your upper half rest on his chest as he wraps his arms around you.
A few more wild thrusts later and Eddie is almost howling as he starts to cum inside you. His knot swells faster than ever to lock you in place on him. His hips move weakly, still chasing the high until he finally stills, letting your weight rest fully on top of him.
The timer goes off in the kitchen downstairs, pulling you from your solo concert of Queen’s greatest hits that you had playing from one of Eddie’s speakers. You set the scrub brush you were using to clean the carpets down before running down the stairs to check on dinner.
The house had been cycle free for a full 24 hours, so Steve and Eddie had gone back to work this morning. With an empty house, you had taken the opportunity to do a deep clean of every square inch of the house. You tried not to think about how you’d spent the last 6 days being fucked on every imaginable surface in this house as you swept, scrubbed, and rinsed everything in sight.
It also gave you a lot of time to think. To over analyze small thing Eddie or Steve said about you during your cycles that felt like there might be feelings budding between the three of you.
Part of you wishes that it could be true, that there might be something growing of you within their hearts.
But it also scares the shit out of you.
There’s no way you were about to be a homewrecker. The last thing you wanted was to think that there was a mutual bond with you and the boys, only to find out that it’s one sided. Or that only one of them feels something for you, leaving the other to feel betrayed and hate you. And it would kill you if either one of them hated you.
You shook your head in an attempt to rid you of your thoughts. The only reason this was happening was because of a contract. If you hadn’t answered that newspaper ad, you wouldn’t even be thinking these delusional thoughts. You’d probably be heading back home with your tail between your legs, begging your parents to let you move back in with them.
There was no way that was going to happen. You just needed to get pregnant and you’d be set for a little while longer.
The sound of the front door opening grabbed your attention. You set the casserole on the stove top and smoothed out our apron, waiting for Eddie to make his entrance.
“Hey there, sweet thang,” he greeted, hanging his keys on their hook and pulling his hair out of it’s ponytail. He still had a dark smudge on his cheek that he didn’t fully clean off before he left work. And when he took off his jacket his arms were put on full display for your eyes to take in.
Damn, were you feeling some residual from your heat?
“Hi, Eds,” you finally muster to say, turning your attention to pulling the plates out of the cabinet.
“Smells good in here,” Eddie says, grabbing the plates before you could, leaning down to kiss your lips. It lasted for a solid few seconds before he pulled away, carrying the plates to the table.
You stood in shock. That obviously wasn’t your first kiss, but it was the first one that felt so…domestic. The first that wasn’t attached to sex. You knew Eddie had been bold with you, even while Steve was around at times, but he’d never kissed you like that, where you ended up with butterflies in your stomach.
The front door opened again, but you were so engrossed in thought you didn’t really register it.
“Hi babe,” you hear from beside you. Eddie greets Steve at the doorway to the kitchen, barely giving him the chance to set his keys on the hook before kissing him deeply. Deep enough it almost made you dizzy.
Eddie and Steve were so in love it was almost disgusting in a cute way. If anyone deserved to have their own family it was them. Even when they two of them are deep in the trenches of their heat they would still make time for each other (which gave you a nice break from dealing with two alphas in rut).
“Jeez, Eddie, you act like I didn’t just see you this morning,” Steve chuckles, taking his coat off.
“I know,” he says with faux bashfulness. “I just missed my two favorite people a lot today.”
Steve looks at Eddie, then to you. For a moment you thought he was going to give you the normal distant routine and you mentally prepared yourself for it.
But after a blink, he sauntered over to the stove, stopping right in front of you. One hand landed on your hip, the other on your cheek. Your heart began to beat like a drum as he leaned in. And when his lips met yours, it felt like fireworks. Like you’d won some major award.
And then you were being crushed. Eddie’s arms took the two of you into a tight hug, almost lifting you both off of the ground. His laugh echoed the kitchens as Steve ordered him let you both go.
“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he says, pecking the both of you on the side of the head.
“Now, I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m starving.”
thanks for reading!
#steddie#alpha!steddie#steddie x reader#alpha!steddie x omega!reader#omegaverse#omegaverse au#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie smut#alpha!steve harrington#alpha!eddie munson#steve harrington x reader#alpha!eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader
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Gold chain (pt1) | Leah Williamson
Leah Williamson x tennis player!reader
For the past year, Leah had been a big fan of yours, and now her mother wasn't missing any opportunity to tease her during Roland Garros.
warnings: none, just fluff and slow burn
note: this one is long (maybe?), sorry about that. The next part has more Leah and reader interactions, I promise. This was written with an oc, i changed everything at the last minute so sorry if there are any mistakes there,,
my masterlist
Leah Williamson, England captain, European champion, Miss Arsenal.
That was how she was publicly recognised within the world of football, a sport that had always been her passion, but lately, or rather, since she had been invited to Wimbledon in 2023, she had begun to share some of that passion with tennis.
She explained to everyone that she fell in love with tennis during a deep conversation with the legendary Billie Jean King. While there was truth to that, tennis didn't captivate her so much because of the sport itself, but rather because of a certain player, who since that Wimbledon semifinal, Leah had watched almost all of her matches.
“Believe me, that girl Y/N is great, don't let this match fool you” Billie had muttered to her after witnessing your unfortunate loss in the last set.
And who was Leah to doubt the words of the greatest tennis player in history?
Since then, Leah has managed to watch as many of your matches as possible. And yes, you were undeniably beautiful, but what truly captivated Leah was the elegance with which you played. Each swing of your racket held a mesmerizing grace that left Leah spellbound every time.
And now, with a break after the final game of the European qualifiers, it was the opportunity for a holiday.
"Hey, Leah!" Georgia barged into her room on the last day of camp, now that they were back in England. "Got any plans for this week?"
"Yeah," Leah replied, without giving any details, more focused on packing her suitcase than engaging in conversation with her friend.
"Where? With who?" Georgia asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively. She knew Leah tended to keep her romantic interactions with girls in private, not just from the public but even from her own friends.
"With my mom, you idiot," Leah replied, rolling her eyes. "We're headed to France."
"Now? What's so interesting about France?" she asked, with a look of disgust on her face. Sure, there were plenty of interesting things to do in France, but Georgia didn't want to hear anything related to that country for a couple of days.
"Roland Garros? Does that ring a bell for you?" Leah retorted, her tone laced with sarcasm.
"Huh? Since when do you go to another country for a tennis match?"
"My mom likes it" Leah lied smoothly, without any hint of shame. If only Georgia knew that Leah had sweetened the deal for her mother with promises of fine wines and breathtaking views post-match.
"Well, that's too bad... but text me if your plans change,"
Leah nodded, though it was in vain because she wouldn't change going to France to see her favorite tennis player.
"Who are we rooting for?" Amanda said, taking a sip of her drink, not really interested in what was happening on the clay.
"Uh, we're impartial," Leah said, settling back in her seat.
Four games had already been played, each player winning their respective games.
"I have a feeling we're rooting for the girl in the white visor," her mother said.
Leah looked at her, pulling her sunglasses down a little. "What?"
"Well, you make a face every time the other player makes a point."
Leah said nothing to that comment, her attention had returned to you, now one point away from managing to break your opponent's serve. It was an important match, a semifinal, so every point would be valuable to put you in the final of the tournament.
Still not saying anything back to her mother, Leah held her breath for a few seconds. The ball was going back and forth across the court, but you, with impressive precision, hit the ball with a spin that made it graze the top of the net. For a moment, it seemed like it might fall short, but the ball dropped just over, catching your opponent off guard.
"Wonderful" muttered Leah, crossing her arms with a smile, ready to enjoy the rest of the match.
There were times when tennis was mentally overwhelming. You felt this every time you played, and it had cost you a lot of matches in the past. A whole court filled with hundreds of people, all watching you, many anxiously waiting for you to make a mistake that could cost you the match. It was more than overwhelming.
That's why, at times, you had to pause your mind and take a deep breath, despite how difficult that was for you.
You only needed one more game to win the set and secure a place in the Roland Garros final. No pressure, of course.
The advantage was that you were serving in this game, but ironically, this often made you even more nervous. The pressure of delivering a strong serve was immense.
The crowd was overwhelming, so many eyes watching you, so many unfamiliar faces focused on you, watching every move, your family and team sitting behind you. In this position you couldn’t look at them to calm down.
You needed to focus your eyes on something, to steady your nerves. As you walked towards your position, after drying your face with the towel, you looked in a diagonal direction, right towards the area where you were supposed to put the ball.
As you raised your gaze slightly, something caught your eye. In the stands, amid a sea of blonde and brown heads, was a woman with striking red hair. The woman stood out, not only because of her hair, but also because she was the only person not looking at you, instead, her attention was elsewhere.
You stole a glance at the red-haired woman as you inhaled deeply, preparing for your serve. With a fluid motion, you raised her arm, tossed the ball into the air and delivered a powerful strike.
Ace!
The ball zipped across the court with velocity, catching your opponent off guard. Convinced it would fly out, your opponent made no attempt to chase after it.
A satisfied smile tugged at your lips.
Once more, your gaze flickered toward the red-haired woman in the stands. Drawing another deep breath, you focused intensely as you prepared to serve again. With a determined flick of your wrist, you sent the ball hurtling across the court, this time, your aim wasn’t for an ace, but rather to set up a play that would complicate the things for your opponent.
Within minutes the score stood at 40-15. Just one more point.
You didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but you craved to close the match with a decisive point, one point to make it clear why you were here.
So, you adjusted your visor, brushed your fingers over the gold chain hanging from your neck and looked up, for the first time looking directly at the woman, not even getting a good look at her, because the woman was quite far away, but the woman's disinterest helped you to clear your head and focus your mind, ignoring the bunch of other faces watching you.
Just one more point.
You lifted the ball, the familiar weight of your racket in your hand, a quiet groan escaping your lips before you swung. Then, the sound of the impact echoed through the entire court and as the ball bounced on the clay.
Ace!
Leah was up from her seat at the same time as you fell backwards onto the clay.
"That was incredible," Leah exclaimed, joining the chorus of applause.
"Incredible?" Amanda asked without understanding that much. However, what truly caught her off guard was the sight of her daughter like that, grinning from ear to ear. It was common to see her like that when it came to football matches, but not usually during tennis.
"Are you kidding? It was phenomenal! If you hadn't been glued to your phone, you’d have felt the same as the rest of us!" Leah retorted.
"So, did we win?" Amanda inquired.
"Well, you have won a few more days in France," Leah replied, attempting to temper her excitement. "The final is in two days."
"Do we have tickets?”
"Of course, I purchased them in advance. I already knew Y/N would make it to the finals."
Amanda regarded her daughter suspiciously. "You're not into gambling, are you?"
"Of course not," Leah replied with a grin. "But if I were to bet on her I'd do pretty well”
As they made their way toward the exit, following the crowd, Amanda broke the silence. "Do you know that player?"
"No… not personally" Leah replied "But I watched her play at Wimbledon last year."
"Did she win?"
"No" Leah shook her head, a hint of disappointment in her expression. "She lost"
"So, she's not that good?"
"Actually, she's quite impressive," Leah defended you. "She went up against the number two player in the world."
"What rank is she?" Amanda inquired.
"Four," Leah answered.
"Then she's not the best," Amanda said confidently.
"Mom!" Leah nudged her playfully while Amanda held back her laughter. "You couldn't even hit the ball."
"Neither could you, I remember your attempts at tennis when you were little," Amanda chuckled. "But what I don't get is why you're defending her so much"
"Because she's great, she’s talented! Look over there!" Leah pointed behind her, where a large screen displayed the game's results alongside your photo.
Amanda's eyes immediately gravitated toward the image, ignoring the points table. "And she's quite pretty," she remarked, studying your face for the first time.
"And she's talented," Leah emphasized, feeling a blush creeping up her ears. Thankfully, her hair concealed it from her mother's curious gaze.
"Whatever you say, sweetheart," Amanda replied with a smile.
It was a tough match, quite a tough match, but that's what you would expect in a Roland Garros final.
The first set ended 6-4 in favor of Iga Swiatek.
You had faced her numerous times throughout your professional career, but had never managed to defeat her in an official match. Despite your old friendship with Iga, there was an undeniable intensity when you two met on the court, and you were determined to shine this time.
As the first set concluded, you sank into your chair, you had to use the break to ease the tension in your legs. Uncapping your water bottle, your fingers instinctively found the gold chain around your neck, adorned with your initials. It may have seemed superstitious, but wearing it had always brought you luck on the court.
Suddenly, your coach's voice pierced the distance, signaling for you to relax and loosen up your play. You brushed off the advice, as if you hadn't already realized that. Ignoring your coach's guidance was risky, but you already had your own voice in your mind against you.
Taking a long sip of water, you refocused your gaze forward. Then, something caught your attention.
The same woman from the previous match was in the stands again. You hadn't noticed her before, too engrossed in your opponent. Again, that was the key to your game, you needed to block out distractions and focus on yourself and the ball. Just like you had done during the semifinal match, you needed to tune out everything else.
"How many points before your girl loses?" Amanda said, glancing sideways at Leah, who was leaning forward, her elbows on her knees and a faint blush on her cheeks. According to Leah it was from the sun hitting her face, but Amanda knew her daughter well enough.
"Don't pester me, now's not the time," Leah replied, sitting up straight in her seat and adjusting her sunglasses.
"I'm not pestering you, but you claimed that girl was fantastic. Yet, from what I've seen today, the other player seems better to me."
"Well, she's number one after all"
"So, you admit she's the best."
Leah rolled her eyes. "Y/N just needs to take a breath. After this break she'll bounce back, you'll see. She'll shut your mouth"
"If you say so."
And so it happened. You had won the second set 4-6, breaking Iga's serve at the crucial moment. The victory was almost surreal, even Leah found it hard to believe.
"Stop biting your nails," her mother said, giving Leah's leg a slap as she saw her nervous habit.
"She's going to win," Leah said without looking at her mother, her gaze fixed on you, as you refreshed yourself by wetting your hair before the final set.
"Leah, you've been saying that since yesterday," Amanda remarked, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her tone.
"I’m excited," Leah defended.
Amanda shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "If she wins, will you approach her?"
"Are you being serious?" she said, shaking her head "What would I even say?" Leah replied, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
"You've been crushing over her for days. I've never seen you like this with someone you don't even know," Amanda teased.
"It's not a crush. I just admire her athletic ability and determination, that's all," Leah insisted.
"Well, then you two have something in common. I don’t see why you don’t talk to her"
"Because... I just don't," Leah stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"What a coward," Amanda teased.
The set stood at 4-5 in your favor, but now it was Iga's turn to serve, and she was already in position. You shifted your weight from side to side, preparing for the shot, a smile gracing your lips as you caught sight of the red-haired woman just above Iga’s head. The woman had become your anchor, helping you refocus on your game.
It was almost amusing, thinking that no one else existed in the crowd, just you and the woman. You could tell the woman wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in the clay. You often caught the woman glancing at her phone during the set. Yet, you found solace in playing as if you were solely performing for the woman.
However, you didn’t forget the game at hand, swiftly responding to each shot with your racket, rallying back and forth several times before you had a moment of brilliance that allowed you to execute a breathtaking drop shot in the opposite direction of Iga's sprint.
It was the highlight of the tournament, perhaps even of your career, your best point. Yet, when you glanced up and noticed the red-haired woman looking away, you couldn't help but chuckle.
With the score now at 40-AD, you needed just one more point to clinch your first grand slam title. As Iga's shot came straight towards your body, you managed to get your racket in position to return the ball. The exchange of the ball was intense, this time you had to sprint to reach a ball you never thought you could. You struck it with the edge of your racket, hoping for the best as the ball sailed toward the line.
As you watched the ball clear the net, you felt the light weight of your gold chain around your neck and remembered that luck was on your side this time.
Everything happened in slow motion as Iga dropped her racket to the ground, and moments later, you found yourself on your knees on the clay court, the crowd erupting into cheers around you.
You didn't know how, but now you were already in the stands, being hugged by your family and your team, with your coach by your side, trying to shake some of the clay off your clothes.
"I need you to do me a favor" you said to him before the tournament staff took you away for the trophy presentation.
As Leah and her mother descended the stairs toward the exit, Leah couldn't contain her excitement. "I told you Y/N would win," she exclaimed, her hand firmly grasping her mother's arm. The trophy presentation had concluded, and the crowd was beginning to disperse.
"It was luck," Amanda teased her daughter, though she couldn't deny her surprise at your remarkable turnaround.
"We should have placed a bet. We would have won"
"At least I won't have to endure your grumpy face during dinner," Amanda said with a playful smirk.
Leah rolled her eyes as they walked through the crowd.
"Excuse me!" A man's voice behind them interrupted their conversation. Leah's eyes widened as she recognized him. "This might sound strange… but Y/N wants to see you," the man explained to Amanda, who didn't understand the situation at all, her daughter didn’t either.
Leah felt a tug on the arm her mother was holding on.
"Uh-"
"It's Y/N's coach," Leah clarified to her mother.
"And she wants to see me?" Amanda asked.
The man nodded awkwardly. "I wish I could offer more explanation, but Y/N is sometimes unpredictable."
After a moment of contemplation, Amanda flashed a mischievous smile and nodded, gripping her daughter's arm even tighter. "Sure, take us to her."
Leah's heart raced. How was it possible that she was going to meet her crush the athlete she admired thanks to her mother?
Your coach, after a few minutes of walking in silence, led them through a door into a room where you were lying on a couch, eyes closed.
"Hey, Y/N. Your guests are here," your coach announced, giving your shoulder a squeeze.
You quickly opened your eyes and stood up, ignoring the fact that you had just played a two-hour match less than half an hour ago.
You were no longer wearing your visor and your shoes, but you were still in your white uniform with lilac accents. Leah couldn't help but notice that your socks were now stained with clay.
"Y/N L/N" you introduced yourself, extending your hand toward Amanda. Your attention seemed focused on Amanda, oblivious to Leah standing behind her. "I'm introducing myself because I have a slight feeling you don't know me," you said with a smile.
"Amanda," she said, shaking your hand. "Don't worry, I know who you are. A little voice hasn't stopped repeating your name since we arrived in France."
Leah blushed and glanced away.
"Oh," you released Amanda's hand and turned to the blonde, whom you hadn't noticed during either match. "Shouldn't I introduce myself then?" you asked, extending your hand toward Leah.
"No need," Leah said, feeling her mother's not-so-subtle nudge as you extended your hand. "My name is Leah, and I'm a big fan of yours."
"Your number one fan," Amanda chimed in with a smile.
"Mom!" Leah protested, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
You released Leah's hand and turned to Amanda.
"She brought me all the way from England just to see you," Amanda explained, noticing the way you were looking at her daughter.
"England?" you asked, curious about the mention of England.
"Yes, we're from England," Leah confirmed.
"And my daughter is the captain of—"
"Mom, no!" Leah interjected, her cheeks turning pink as she attempted to silence her mother's impending revelation.
You couldn't help but laugh at Leah's embarrassment, finding the exchange amusing.
"Why are we here?" Leah asked before her mother could continue.
"Oh, right," you replied, regaining your composure. "I wanted to thank you," you said, turning to Amanda and clasping your hands behind your back.
"Me?" "Her?" Amanda and Leah exclaimed simultaneously, surprised by your words.
"Yes," You said softly, your gaze shifting to Leah, a smile returning to your face. "Since the semifinal match, I noticed your mother in the stands. Although, it's hard not to see her," you added, gesturing towards Amanda's red hair. "She was the only person in the whole court who wasn't looking at me. Thanks to her, I was able to concentrate and win. It may sound silly but—"
"Oh, don't worry honey," Amanda interjected. "They usually tell me that I bring good luck in big games," she said, nodding towards Leah with her thumb.
"You're an athlete? Sorry, what was your name again? I don't have a good memory with names," you said, this time blushing slightly.
"Honey, Leah is the captain of the England team," Amanda clarified, speaking on behalf of her daughter.
"Oh... Football? Volleyball?" You inquired.
"Yes, football," Leah replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment. She had never felt so embarrassed in her life, not even as a child.
You glanced Leah up and down once more. You had never imagined a football player could dress so stylishly. You found yourself so engrossed in observing Leah's attire that you only snapped back to reality when your coach cleared his throat.
"Well, I just wanted to make sure to thank you for your help, even if you didn't realize it," you said, pulling an autographed tennis ball out of your pocket. "I'm not sure how valuable this is to you, but perhaps your daughter will appreciate it," you added with a laugh, glancing sideways at Leah. "Well, I must be off now, interviews and all that," you explained, walking away to grab your bag. "Hope to see you two at Wimbledon," you said, winking at Amanda before leaving.
The next day, Leah found herself at the airport, keeping an eye on their suitcases while her mother went to grab something to eat. Suddenly, a notification on her phone caught her off guard.
Y/N_kz started following you
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hi :D can you do jjk boys doing like a tiktok prank and telling reader to shut up but they've a really bad day and either get mad/really sad? angst with or w/o comfort plz
CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR A SEC?!
featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.
n. some comfort and some w/o comfort lol. thanks for the req babes, not breaking my angst writing stride. if you could understand why i wrote gojo like that, then you paid attention to s2. enjoy </3
GOJO SATORU. you dropped your bag by the door and took a deep breath, hoping to find some comfort in his presence; finding your boyfriend lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to the tv screen.
“satoru,” you said, voice tinged with fatigue. “i had a really bad day today. the higher ups are a fucking pain—“
“shut up, babe, i’m watching tv. see?” without looking away from the tv, gojo cut off your words.
you froze, the sting of his words hitting you harder than you expected. you stared at him in disbelief, feeling a mix of hurt and anger rising within you. “wow. thanks for that. really needed it today,” you said laced with passive aggression.
gojo finally turned his head to look at you, but it was too late. you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and you didn’t want him to see you cry. you pivoted and exited the living room, displacing him in the process.
as you retreated to the bedroom, you could hear the faint sound of the tv continuing in the background. the reality of the situation settled in, and you felt the tears spill over, silently streaming down your face. you sank onto the bed, burying your face in your hands.
moments later, the sound of the tv stopped, and you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door. it opened slowly, and gojo stepped inside, looking all confused and a tad concerned. “babe,” he said softly, “seriously, what’s going on?”
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. “can’t you see i’m busy? can you shut up for a sec?”
you froze, his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. your shoulders slumped further, and you felt a knot form in your stomach. “i don’t need this today. just leave me alone,” you muttered, turning on your heel and heading towards the door.
megumi’s head snapped up as he realized something was wrong. “wait, hold on,” he called out, but you didn’t stop. “hey, i was just joking. come on, talk to me.”
your pace quickened as you left the dorm room, but you remained silent. you needed to leave before you totally lost it because you could feel the tears starting to burn in your eyes. megumi's voice could be heard calling after you as you went down the corridor; growing more concerned with each attempt.
“please, wait!” he shouted, tone now filled with worry. “fuck, i didn’t mean it like that! it’s a tiktok prank, babe!”
you kept moving, the door closing behind you as you stepped outside into the crisp evening air. you leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. the last thing you needed was more pain on top of an already unbearable day.
ITADORI YUUJI. anger flared within you and your eyes widened. “why would you say that to me? what’s wrong with you?” you snapped, voice sharp as a knife.
yuuji’s gaze moved to look at you, and he immediately saw the pain in your eyes. his expression shifted from surprise to regret. “wait, wait, baby, i’m so sorry! it’s just a tiktok prank. i swear i didn’t mean it like that. please, forgive me.”
“a tiktok prank? do you think this is funny?”
he scrambled off the couch and came over to you, face earnest and pleading. “no, no, it’s not funny. i thought it would be harmless, but i can see now that it wasn’t the right time. i’m really sorry…”
“forgive me, please?”
you took a deep breath, trying to calm down. the sincerity in his voice and the worry in his eyes made it hard to stay mad at him. “yuuji, i’ve had a really bad day. the last thing i needed was for you to tell me to shut up.”
your boyfriend nodded vigorously, looking like a guilty puppy. “i know. i messed up big time. can we start over? we’ll order your favorite takeout and watch a movie? my treat!”
GETO SUGURU. your frustration, already simmering beneath the surface, boiled over. “excuse me? you don’t get to talk to me like that, geto suguru. especially not today!”
“whoa, hey, calm down. it was just a tiktok prank. i didn’t mean it seriously.”
“and you think that’s funny?”
the guy stood up, hands raised in a placating gesture, trying to approach you cautiously. “okay, okay, i get it. not funny. i’m sorry. how about we forget about it and i make it up to you?”
you could see the genuine concern in his eyes, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet. “you really don’t understand how bad my day has been, do you? and you choose today to pull something like this?”
suguru sighed, taking a step closer to you. “i do understand. i’m sorry i made it worse. i was just trying to be playful. let me make it up to you.” he dropped his voice to a softer, flirtatious tone, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “you know i can’t stand it when you’re upset with me.”
“you damn flirt,” you huffed, trying to maintain your anger, but the familiar charm in his voice made it difficult. “you can’t just flirt your way out of everything, geto suguru. i’m still mad.”
he stepped closer, gently taking your hands in his. “maybe not, but i can try. let me make it up to you tonight. we can do whatever you want. i’ll be on my best behavior, promise.”
@uzurakis
#.writing#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#megumi fushiguro x reader#jjk megumi#fushiguro x reader#megumi fluff#megumi x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori fluff#itadori x reader#yuuji x reader#jjk itadori#geto suguru x reader#jjk suguru#jujutsu geto#geto x reader
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sunday x reader - halovian courtship
warning: no spoilers, gn! reader, pining/soft sunday, Sunday info dumping as usual
summary: where Sunday will do everything except confess, and you just think he’s emotionally stunted.
a/n: i read about birds for this
halovian courting rituals
1. Gift giving. Like their close bird companions, Halovians participate in 'nuptial gifts,' a form of gift giving to a potential partner.
You were walking into the Oak Family Headquarters, Dewlight Pavilion, sent to deliver some letters. Although, you’ve been here before, it was still a bit nerve wracking to be in such a place, undetached from your usual position as a lower end employee.
The entrance to Oak Family Head’s office was right in front of you. You bite your lip, shifting the documents to your other arm and knock.
“Nightingale Famil-“
The door swings open. The family head holding the door stands to the side.
“Ah,” Sunday says your name, “it’s you.”
Your eyes widen, blinking a couple times. He remembers me?
“Yes, it’s nice to see you again Mr. Sunday. I’ve come with documents from the Nightingale family detailing a new plan for the dreamscape.”
He looks a bit disappointed?
He chuckles, then calls out to a lone employee, “you’re dismissed for today, I’ll take care of the rest.”
The Oak employee dips his head and leaves. Watching him leave fills a pit in your stomach.
“Mr. Sunday, is something wrong?”
Sunday sits up suddenly, “Oh, no. Not at all.” It’s that movement that makes you realize that he’s been fidgeting with something in his lap…Is he always like this?
“I guess I was just a bit surprised,” he smiles, looking down to the side. You caught him.
“Surprised? To see me?” Although Sunday and you have met a few times. It was always business, just like now—well maybe he did stare a bit intently at you before, but something really was different this time!
He looks up and sheepishly slides a box across the table. “Take it as…being a good part of The Family.”
For a few moments, your eyes set upon him. What is he planning? It’s a small box. Almost nothing could fit in there. You lift the top up.
You gasp. Earrings worth more than your entire life’s salary. You slam it shut.
“M-Mr. Sunday. This really isn’t necessary. I just—“ you ramble on. Sunday places his gloved hand on yours.
“Please, take it.”
Looking into his eyes, you realize that putting up a fight with the Oak Head won’t get you anywhere. You reluctantly take the box.
2. Preening. Similar to nature, touching a Halovian's wings is an intimate gesture to show one's interest in a romantic partner. Someone should never touch a Halovian's wings without asking!
Soon after, you come across Sunday again. This time at the Nightingale Family’s institution. You were putting away blueprints, plans and documents your coworkers left laying around haphazardly. When a familiar voice calls out to you.
“Good evening. Working hard, I see.”
“Mr. Sunday?”
He approached you, then looked around the room. He seemed to realize the situation you were in and scorned your coworkers. He mumbled something about you and moving to the “Oak Family.” As he spoke his wings were fluttering. They looked smooth and soft.
“You’ve been staring at my wings. Do they interest you that much?” He chuckles.
“Well, they are very pretty but—“
“Would you like to touch them?” A light blush spreads across his face. Despite that, he seemed perfectly poised. His hands clasped behind his back, standing straight and looking right at you.
“I-is that alright?” tumbles from your lips. You hesitantly reach out.
“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
Upon touching them, Sunday’s wings twitched away from you before settling down. The feathers are soft and plush. Some are darker in color while others are more pale. They’re surprisingly fluffy. A bit like fur but more delicate.
The blush darkened, his gaze shifted off to the wall. His composure utterly broken, his hands fidgeted behind his back.
“Did you know that birds groom each other as a social activity? It occurs between…ma-members of a flock.” He sputters. What is he saying?
Your fingers stroking his feathers create a flutter within his stomach. He leans into the touch. Taking that as a sign to continue, you reach farther up, a light brush into the coverts of his feathers. Sunday gasps and pulls away.
“…You must take good care of them. Are all Halovian wings soft like yours?”
He wishes that moment would never end.
3. Song. During courtship rituals many birds of different species tend to sing and dance. While that is popular among Halovian people, some may chose show affection through instruments instead.
One day, a notice appears at your door. Upon examining it you realize it’s an invitation from Sunday, instructing you to his office within the Dewlight Pavilion.
Could it be about the documents you sent him last time? You wrack your brain for any possible explanation. He had been acting weirder than usual.
Heat build up in your face upon recalling Sunday’s recent appreciation for you. The earrings that are far too expensive to wear anywhere, and even worse—you bury your face into your hands. In a profound display of unprofessionalism, he let you touch his wings.
Still, every muscle in your body jittered with excitement, even though it shouldn’t.
♫ ♬ ♩
Suddenly, the closer you got, the more the hallway echoed with the sound of a violin. Slowly, you carefully stepped towards the sound, till you found its source.
Sunday was playing the violin. You couldn’t help but freeze where you were and watch him. He truly did look like angel. As he drew his bow across the strings, the light from the window shined down on him. His hair reflected the light appearing almost white. Was he always this beautiful?
Abruptly, he stands up, “You’re early. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you closed the door behind you, “I didn’t know you could play. What song was it?”
He places the violin down on his table and approached you, “It’s ‘Salut d’amor,’ one of the first pieces I learned how to play,” Sunday put his hand behind his back, “the dream master was the one that taught me.”
“It was very pretty, I can tell you’ve been playing for a long time.”
“Thank you.” A light blush spreads onto his cheeks, but it’s gone before you can realize it.
A loud silence sweeps the room. The two of you avert your eyes. This side of Sunday feels so different from what you’ve been told. He always maintains a professional barrier. But if so, what was this?
Sunday calls your name, “how do you feel about me?”
“What?” The question is so out of the blue, you must’ve heard wrong, “I think you’re a nice guy—“
“I meant as a partner, I thought you knew. Was I not obvious enough?” He mumbles over the last sentence.
“I—well—“ you stumble over your words. He was serious. The earrings, the wing touching, the invitation. You dismissed it as him buttering you up. The ‘most handsome man in Penacony’ as delegated by the latest magazines, had feelings for you?
Your face felt so hot, you felt as if you could combust into flames at any moment, “I feel the same.”
His expression softened. “That’s a relief, I don’t have to cancel those reservations then.”
“Reservations?! Mr. Sunday-“
“Just Sunday. I’ll pick you up later then,” he smiled, then placed his hand near your ear, as if looking for something, “Oh, but this time remember to wear those earrings.”
a/n #2: soft Sunday is real, did u see how protective he was of Robin in the quest? i need more hoyo. feed my delusion
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no one's ever had me, not like you
timeskip!hinata shoyo x reader
“Are you really sure that you’re swearing off of dating?”
You wonder how many times you’ll be asked that before you finally get pressured into mingling just to get them off your back. But Akane, bless her heart, looks genuinely concerned, like choosing to stay single was a cruel fate she wouldn’t wish for anyone to bear.
“It’s not a big deal,” you tell her. “Dating’s just not for me.”
You think back to all your previous relationships, and find that you have never been more sure of your decision.
“It just means you haven’t found the right one!” To your left, Yuki, who is alarmingly a lot of shots in, exclaims. She becomes violent when drunk. You would know, your arm is starting to turn red from her smacking when laughing.
You shrug uncomfortably. “I’m not looking for any right one.”
Akane and Yuki share a glance.
“Well, if you say so,” Akane cedes.
Then Yuki slams her hands on the table as she bolts upright, expression grave and voice low as she says, “We’re doing it, though, right?”
You laugh under your breath. Yuki looks a little ridiculous, drunk, and swaying on her feet even when standing still. Her grip on her glass wavers, and you quickly pluck it from her grasp, ignoring her protesting wail.
Akane brightens. “Yes! Of course we’re doing it!”
You instead hand Yuki a glass of water. “Doing what? Are you two up to no good again?”
“Yes!” Yuki exclaims at the same time Akane calmly clarifies, “Noya’s inviting close friends out for dinner tomorrow.” Which makes sense, because they were pretty much the same thing.
“Oh! Nishinoya’s back?”
“Just arrived today! He said he’s visiting for a while.” Akane fishes out her phone from her hand, then pulls out the class’s group chat that you could never bring yourself to check ever since it hit 999+ notifications. It displays a picture of Nishinoya holding up a peace sign, face serious, and next to a large airport sign.
You hum thoughtfully. “I guess if you guys are coming…”
“Let’s go!” Yuki pumps her fists in the air. Akane smiles and tells her to settle down. Akane drank twice as many shots than her.
“Who else is coming?” You ask. “I might pass if it’s the entire school.”
“Noya’s not that wild. I heard it’s just his volleyball team, Ryuunosuke, and us,” Akane says. “I heard they’re also celebrating because Noya’s treating his kouhai’s return from Brazil.”
“Brazil?” The other side of the world! “Yuu and his friends sure are adventurous,” you remark in amusement, sipping idly on your own drink. It’s milder than either of theirs since you were assigned as the designated driver.
“You’ve heard of the guy. Hinata Shoyo, I think it was.”
You inhale your drink and start heaving. Akane’s hands flutter all over you in panic while Yuki descends in deep thought.
Yuki snapped her fingers. “Oh, right! Wasn’t that the first year who had a big crush on you when we were in second year? Noya’s favorite kouhai, Shoyo.”
Hinata Shoyo.
The first time you met Hinata Shoyo was when Nishinoya decided to invite close friends to watch them play. It was an ordinary day, and they had just come back from the Interhigh preliminaries. Their coach agreed to let them take it slow and relax, so Noya used it as an opportunity to invite his friends (it was just you who was free) to watch (read: to show off).
Having nothing better to do during club hours, you agreed.
You were late, stuck with cleaning duty, and forced to catch up to Noya, who had first wheeled into the volleyball gymnasium. The door was shut. You took deep, deep breaths before sliding it open and nearly having your face flattened by a volleyball speeding towards you.
Well, of course, it was a volleyball gymnasium.
Luckily, you managed to swerve out of the way and prevent long-lasting damage to your face. But the shock was more brutal than the would-be impact. You gaped at the ball that rolled onto the grass miles away. Just how fast was that thing?
“Y/N!” Nishinoya’s voice rang throughout the stunned silence of the gym.
Your head whipped around just in time to see a little guy with a mop of orange hair bound over to you.
“Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry—-” He then looked up at you, now only inches away, and seemed to have run out of apologies. His face exploded in a bright shade of red, but his eyes looked like they were bluescreening.
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s fine!” You wave your hand to dismiss his guilt. “I didn’t actually get hit. Well—almost. But I didn’t! That was amazingly fast!” You hoped the praise would snap him out of it, but he was still gaping at you like you’d grown two heads. Or maybe you had something on your face?
Nishinoya comes barreling over soon enough, brows furrowed. “Y/N! Are you okay? You could’ve died!”
You frowned. “Idiot. I’m not going to die from that.”
Your statement seemed to shatter the tension that froze everyone in place. The captain murmured for them to continue practicing as Noya fluttered all over you like a mother hen, insisting on an ice pack.
Tanaka materialized out of nowhere. “Y/N! It’s you!”
“Ryuu!” You exclaim in delight, returning his hug. “Ryuu, it’s nice to see you again!”
Nishinoya turned to the tiny redhead with a raised eyebrow. “You good, Shoyo?”
Shoyo finally flinched out of his daze, narrowly avoiding your curious eyes. “Y-Yes! I’m just—I’ll go get the ball!” he squeaked out, nearly tripping over his own feet on a flat surface.
Nishinoya snorted, sharp eyes following Shoyo. “I think he has a crush on you.”
Tanaka cackled. “No way! Is that why Hinata looks so constipated?”
Hinata Shoyo. You glanced back just in time to catch him fumbling with the volleyball, trembling like a frightened mouse. It’s cute.
Now, you can confidently state that Hinata Shoyo is no longer just cute. Five years later, July, in an unsuspecting get-together party hosted by Nishinoya, and Hinata Shoyo definitely isn’t the same as before.
“Everyone!” Nishinoya’s voice bellows out throughout the venue. For such a small guy, he has the voice of a booming speaker. “Everyone, quiet! Shoyo’s here!”
Choruses of Hinata! echo through everyone as the crowd dispersed and bounded over to where Nishinoya was. You hear a faint laugh and a “Thank you!” From here, you could tell that his voice had gotten deeper. Still light and high, but it was different from the squeakiness you remembered.
Ever since finding out that Hinata had been back from Brazil, it turns out that his grand debut in the Nationals was aired all over. He’s famous now, not just some kid in Karasuno’s Volleyball Club.
“Ooh,” Yuki giggles maniacally. She hasn’t drunk anything yet. “He’s here. Do you think he still has a crush on you?”
“I doubt it. It was probably because I was his senpai back then. Remember how you reacted to Daichi-san visiting our hall? Everyone in our class was swooning, especially the boys!”
“Something about volleyball players, I tell you,” Yuki says, her gaze drifting over to where Akane was giggling as she talked with them. “Hmm. Speaking of them, I think one of them is on his way here.”
“What?”
Yuki takes one last sip of her tequila shot and leaves without another word. You didn’t have to turn—didn’t even have to move. You can feel his presence the moment he is right behind you, like a burst of warmth hovering, but it’s gold and bright, so you’re not terrified
Hinata Shoyo sits beside you, asking for a drink. You can’t help but stare.
He turned to you, then seemed to do a double take. Hinata Shoyo—now built twice as big as he once was; no longer the cute, lanky, and short kouhai from your past; with neatly trimmed hair and a much deeper voice—stares at you in astonishment. Hinata Shoyo emits a wordless exclamation.
“Senpai!” he exclaims in disbelief.
“Hinata,” you laugh softly, fondly. “We’re not in high school anymore. I’m pretty sure we’re the same age. You can just call me Y/N.”
“Y-You—” He splutters, face tinged pink despite the untouched shot in front of him. “Thanks!”
“You’re welcome.” You smile, tilting your head and grinning wider at the way his eye catches on the curve of your neck. “So, how have you been?”
He forgets about the drink he just ordered, seemingly getting redder in the face as you inch closer. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed he was drunk. Hinata Shoyo grins sheepishly, blushing and looking beautiful under the dim lighting of the venue.
Swearing off of dating, hmm…
You consider him—his bright eyes, his wide and ever-genuine smile, and his undivided attention on you. Does he still have a crush on you? Or was it just the surprise that had him so flustered? You throw your head back and gulp down a shot, ignoring the burn that slid down your throat. You suppose there was no harm in finding out.
#haikyuu x reader#hinata shoyo x reader#hinata shoyo x you#hinata shouyou x reader#shoyo hinata x reader#haikyuu imagines
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like a dumb rom com (3) II k.cooney-cross x catley!reader
this is many many months overdue but feels good to tick it off my wips and wrap this little series up finally!
one two
like a dumb rom com (3) II k.cooney-cross x catley!reader
ever since steph walked out after catching you and kyra you'd been on edge. plastering a fake smile on your face you made an effort to show appreciation for all your teammates and friends showing up, avoiding both your sister and your girlfriend like they had some sort of infectious disease.
but if anyone noticed the underlying tension they didn't comment on it, though you felt the looks thrown your way by caitlin every now and then who seemed to stay stuck by stephs side for the rest of the evening.
as well as from kyra who was doing her very best to respect you were in an awkward position, but her hands itched to grab yours in them and she found herself staring longingly at you across the room nearly the entire night.
"okay! training tomorrow girls, think its about time we wrapped this up." it was kim who made the call around ten thirty at night, half of the girls already having left and the rest of you lounged about talking.
you looked up from your conversation with lia and caught your sisters eye, dropping your gaze right away as they burned a hole in your head and everyone all started their goodbyes.
when it came to kyra it was obvious neither of you were sure what to do, awkwardly staring at one another before you went for a hug and kyra stuck her hand out for a fist bump.
you both blushed bright red and mumbled apologies before you grabbed her hand and dragged her outside.
"i'm really sorry about-" you cut off your girlfriends apology with a shake of your head and stole a quick kiss. "don't. its not how i wanted her to find out but she was bound to sooner or later." you sighed with a somewhat sad smile.
with a slight frown kyra poked at the corners of your mouth, turning your lips upward into a proper smile. "dickhead!" you pushed her lightly, pulling her a little more around the corner of the house and out of sight.
"i love you." your hands fell to her cheeks as you brought her in for a proper kiss, the words mumbled right back against your lips before you pulled apart, promising you'd check in later and she hurried off to get a lift with teyah.
"you call me if you need something yeah?" caitlin murmured as she hugged you goodbye next, a short nod all she needed before heading off with katie.
you were hoping to sneak away to your room as steph was busy saying goodbye to jen, but fate wasn't in your favour.
"hey kid." you stopped halfway down the hallway and turned, dean standing a few feet behind with a sympathetic smile. "you know the more you avoid it, the longer it drags out and the worse its going to be." he reminded as you sighed, unable to really argue that fact as you followed after him.
steph had her back to you in the kitchen washing something up with far too much vigor, furiously scrubbing a glass you were surprised hadn't smashed in her hands yet.
you shifted awkwardly on the balls of your feet, wishing the ground would swallow you up as dean cleared his throat, steph pausing to glance briefly over her shoulder as he subtly nodded in your direction.
"you are unbelievable." was all your sister spoke, barely loud enough for you hear as she continued washing up, dean stepping out to the living room to give the pair of you some privacy but still hovering close enough that he could intervene if needed, taking calvin with him.
"pardon?" you scoffed, unsure if you'd heard her correctly as she shook her head, dropping whatever was in her hands back into the sink full of water and whipping around to properly face you.
"i said, you are unbelievable." your sister spoke louder this time, drying her hands on a tea towel and glaring you down. "oh and do tell steph, why exactly is that?" you questioned, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring right back at her.
"this. all of this! you are way too immature to be in a relationship, or whatever you and kyra are." steph rolled her eyes as again you scoffed.
"excuse me? i'm the one being immature right now? and yeah we are in a relationship, kyra is my girlfriend." you confirmed with a snarl, your sisters jaw clenching.
"the hickeys on your neck the other day...that was kyra. kyra was here the night before and you picked her up for training the next day!" steph realised as suddenly then chips started to fall into place. "you lied to me, you told me you came back for that textbook but-" steph accused as you rolled your eyes.
"congratulations sherlock, you figured it out! i came back to cover up my hickey." you clapped with a sarcastic smile which only wound your sister up further. "watch the attitude. you still live under my roof!" steph cautioned making you scoff, of course she'd hold that over you.
"for how long? and why kyra? you're just being stupid!" steph laughed humorlessly as you frowned, hurt flashing briefly across your face but it was almost immediately replaced with anger.
"well lets see. none of your business, none of your business, and how am i being stupid?" you questioned, hands on hips and raising an eyebrow in the older girls direction.
"you're too young to be in a relationship, you need to focus on football and school. and i know kyra well enough that all she's going to be for you is a distraction to both of those!" steph rolled her eyes as you shook your head in disbelief.
"i am twenty one years old steph, you were sleeping around long before that, at least i'm just with one person!" you snarked again as your sisters face glowered and dean appeared again as she started toward you.
"okay girls. its been a big day, its late, i think we all just need the night to cool off and-" he tried to calmly intervene but you weren't finished yet.
"and you don't know kyra at all. either way you do not get to tell me who i get to date or when i get to date them steph! you're my sister, not my mum." you warned seriously, turning on heel and exiting the conversation yourself.
"don't you dare walk away from me! we are not done here." steph scoffed and hurried after you ignoring deans urging she drop it for now, your door slammed in her face and promptly locked causing her to gasp.
"you open this door right now or i swear to god!" steph ordered pounding on it with her fist and jiggling the doorknob with her other hand, mumbling under her breath. "no, fuck off stephanie." you rolled your eyes, quickly shoving some things into a bag hearing your sister gasp again.
"oh just you wait till i-" you didn't give her a chance to hear the end of her sentence, carefully swinging one leg over your open window and shimmying around, dropping to the floor and racing away.
meanwhile steph was rummaging around in the kitchen for the spare key to your door, muttering angrily and waving off deans every attempt to soothe her, even ignoring calvin who bumped his head into her leg with a whine.
"telling me to fuck off? me? she's so-ooh when i get my hands on her." steph mumbled storming back down the hall to your room as both dean and calvin followed cautiously behind, your door popping open and steph rushing inside.
a squeal sounded as she tripped over your shoes, tumbling down to the floor and groaning in pain, dean hurrying to carefully help her up as steph took in your empty room and open window and saw red.
"oh she's dead. grounded. shipped back to melbourne in a crate!" steph growled, attempting to flee and make a beeline for her car keys as dean held her back.
"steph. babe, she clearly doesn't want to do this with you right now. when has she ever run off from a conversation? or even an argument? she obviously needs space and so do you, to calm down." he urged calmly as steph melted into his touch with a deep seeded sigh.
it would have to wait until tomorrow then.
~
only by the time tomorrow had rolled around steph indeed was calm, cool as an ice block one might say, and as frosty as one too.
rather than seek you out for an adult conversation like she'd promised dean, steph decided it was much easier to ice you out, ignoring you all together which didn't take long for you to catch onto.
you'd driven to and spent the night at alessia's thinking if you went to kyras that would be too easy for steph to find you, having sent kyra a quick message and prompty shut your phone off so your sister couldn't call you either.
the older english girl welcomed you in and listened to you rant but then made you promise you'd try to hear steph out today, advising your sister was probably more upset at being kept in the dark about it than she was about you actually seeing kyra.
alessia was of course correct, and that was what had been picking at steph as she stewed over things in bed last night, tossing and turning and barely getting a wink of sleep as suddenly she was overthinking everything.
how long had you been sneaking around? how long was this happening under her nose in her house? how long had you been lying to her? how long was kyra lying to her? why did you feel the need not to tell her? did you not trust her? had she been that bad of a sister? no, this was on you and not on her.
forever with a calm head on her shoulders alessia's words had stuck with you regardless, and you'd shown up to training with an olive branch in the form of a coffee for your sister and a new attitude toward hearing her out.
but when she completely blanked your attempt to even greet her good morning, that resolve died as quickly as it had been born.
"steph." you'd started softly, clearing your throat as lia sent you a warm smile, stopping her conversation with your sister who refused to turn around. "steph?" you tried again, lia and beth both frowning at the girl in question who turned but bent to tie her laces, clearly ignoring you.
"but i'm immature? right." you mumbled, harshly dumping her coffee in the bin as alessia winced, watching you storm off and kyra hurry after you as steph pretended not to notice and ignored her friends attempts to work out what that was all about.
"i would have drank that, just because she got caught does not mean she needs to waste a perfectly good coffee!" vic groaned as alessia shoved her, having filled her in but sworn her to secrecy not wanting to upset you or steph any further.
but steph was hardly subtle in the way she was clearly speaking about you to beth during warm ups, the blondes eyes darting toward you and kyra who'd paired up every few seconds which you hadn't missed.
"jesus!" kyra grunted as you grew tired of the fleeting glances and kicked the ball extra hard without watching, sending it sailing right into your girlfriends stomach who bent over winded with a wheeze.
"shit, i'm so sorry ky!" you hurried to her side with wide eyes, grabbing a water bottle alessia offered and handing it to the brunette who nodded with a grimace of pain, mumbling it was fine in between mouthfuls of water as she caught her breath.
catching the slight smirk on your sisters face at what had happened you shot to your feet, intending to march on over there and slap it off but someone grabbed the collar of your shirt before you could so much as take a step.
"nope, no catley brawl in the middle of training." caitlin shook her head, grip on your top tightening as you struggled to pull away but gave up with a defeated huff.
"kyra, finish warm ups with katie. you, come with me." caitlin ordered, dragging you away as you heard katie already start to tease kyra for the way she stared after you like a lost puppy.
meanwhile the smirk was wiped off stephs face but not in the way you wanted, instead she felt a strange feeling settle in her stomach at the way you'd sought out caitlin and were clearly confiding in her.
exactly the way you'd obviously told her about you and kyra before your own sister.
it was that resentment bubbling beneath the surface that perhaps the older girl should have known well enough to set aside and focus on football instead.
and it was that resentment that caused her to take you down perhaps a little too hard in the cool down game awhile later, the ball already gone from your possession when your sister slid into you, taking your legs out and sending you thumping to the ground.
you wheezed in pain, the wind knocked completely out of you by the unexpected tackle, squeezing your eyes shut and taking short sharp breaths as pain shot through your sides.
you heard some of the girls crowd around to check in, waving them off and grabbing leahs hand who pulled you up into a seated position. "i'm fine i'm fine, just winded." you brushed off the physio who hovered nearby.
"ankle? knee? no pain?" kyra squatted beside you with a concerned frown as you shook your head, the whistles blown to end the mornings session. "promise?" your girlfriend pushed as you nodded and mumbled the word back.
you didn't know if your sister would apologise, but you didn't give her a chance to either way as stina helped you to your feet and you took off inside, leaving both kyra and steph behind you.
~
you frowned as you entered the empty gym, your girlfriend having texted you to meet in here before the afternoon session to help her with something.
"kyra? ky?" you called out, hunting about but finding no sign of the midfielder. "she's so weird." you huffed, turning around to leave and screaming as suddenly there she was stood right behind you.
"gotcha!" the brunette grinned victoriously as you clutched your chest. "not funny cooney-cross." you warned catching your breath, heart pounding a million miles an hour.
"you always tell me i'm too loud, but i think i just proved i can be very very sneaky." kyra wiggled her eyebrows as you rolled your eyes. "is that seriously why you made me cut my lunch break early?" you sighed, unimpressed if a jump scare was all you were going to get out of this.
"no. i need your help stretching out my back before gym, please?" kyra asked hopefully, hands clasped together and slight pout on her lips. "you do realize there is an entire floor of physios who could do that right?" you couldn't help but smile.
"yeah...but i'd rather have your hands on me. i've barely seen you all day!" kyra groaned softly. "well whose fault is that!" you poked her accusingly as she smiled guiltily.
"okay its hard to train with stephs eyes shooting lasers at me every second, and thats when i'm not near you!" kyra admitted as you rolled your eyes but took her hands in yours. "where are we going?" your girlfriend asked as you begin to tug her away.
"somewhere stephs laser eyes can't hurt you." you mocked pouting at her as she huffed and bumped her shoulder into yours. "oh how romantic, you've put us both back in the closet." kyra teased as you pulled her into one of the equipment closets.
"are you going to make jokes or are you going to kiss me?" you asked boldly, raising an eyebrow as kyra made a point to snap her mouth shut and tug you closer, pressing her lips to yours without a seconds hesitation.
"-i said i don't want to talk about it caitlin." steph shut down her national teammate with a sigh, the forward trying to press her to talk about everything sensing bottling it up was only making things worse for the both of you.
"steph. you're hurt and you're upset that she didn't tell you, i understand that really. but so is she and avoiding her isn't going to make that go away, it'll get worse!" caitlin warned as steph hummed, rifling through the small stack of papers for her afternoon program.
"just think it over." caitlin gave in, squeezing her teammates shoulder and grabbing her program steph held out for her without another word, the rest of the team all slowly filing in.
now if you and kyra were maybe a little smarter, you might have kept track of time, or chose a less obvious hiding place for your little 'catch up', more specifically not hid out in the closet where the mats and rollers were kept, the mats and rollers that all the girls needed for their warm ups.
which is why one moment you were whispering something, lips pressed against kyras and soft giggles filling the air, and the next you were flat on your back with kyra laid out beside you, four concerned faces staring down at you.
"i didn't think it needed to be said but new rule, no making out in the equipment closet!" kim warned sternly, both you and kyra's faces blushing bright red as you hurried to your feet and she did the same, both of you drowned in the teasings of your teammates shortly after.
you caught your sisters eye as you grabbed your program, her jaw set and eyes piercing into yours you felt a wave of shame roll over you at her judgement, bowing your head and hurrying as far away from her as you could get.
"harsh." beth stated bluntly, knocking her shoulder into her best friends who blinked and glanced over to her, rolling out her hamstring. "thats unprofessional, she should know better." steph mumbled with a roll of her eyes.
"she's twenty one steph, and she's in loove." beth teased, quickly shut down by the sharp glare sent her way by your sister. "don't. she's an idiot, they both are." steph muttered, moving to roll out her back, watching as you arose from your own matt and followed after lotte to start your program.
"steph, she's a kid. kids make mistakes, should she have told you about the two of them? maybe. and when i say this i mean it with love-" beth started, steph averting her eyes toward the blonde and raising an eyebrow.
"-but doesn't your reaction also maybe explain why she held off?" beth smiled sympathetically as steph only sighed, ignoring the question as beth chose to let her sit with it, quickly changing topics.
and sit with it she did, not surprised when she returned home from training to an empty house despite the fact you'd left before her. though given calvin was nowhere to be found and your training bag was sat at your door, you'd clearly been and gone.
"boo!" steph let out a yell and spun around, hitting her fiance a few times who laughed and shielded himself. "alright alright! cool it karate catley." dean grinned as steph huffed, setting down her bag and shooting him one last glare.
"i see our mood hasn't improved. so you didn't talk to her then?" he asked, taking a seat at the counter as steph sighed, grabbing out a few things to make herself some food. "ugh she always does this!" your sister groaned, moving to take out the empty milk from the fridge.
"just further proves her immaturity." steph mumbled, tossing it away into the recycling and fixing her fiance with a glare as he chuckled. "something funny?" she challenged, the man still grinning.
"you do know its me who does that right?" dean advised as steph frowned.
"what? but she always says-"
"once, she covered for me once. and you just assumed from then on that its been her!"
"but why would she-"
"do you remember when we had that argument? after i'd gone out for...a big night." dean winced at the memory as steph hummed in acknowledgement.
"well i drunkenly ate five bowls of cereal and left the milk empty in the fridge. we argued that next morning, you were angry with me and you grabbed out the milk for your coffee and it was empty and-"
"-and she took the blame so we wouldn't argue even more." steph realised with a sigh, drumming her fingers against the counter top. "bingo." dean clicked, leaning over and apologetically kissing her, promising he would no longer leave the milk there.
"then that same morning she went out and got me a coffee, took calvin for a walk and brought home flowers...which she said were from you." steph narrowed her eyes as her fiance winced and smiled sheepishly.
"what else has she taken the blame for or done for me that you took the credit for?" your sister gasped as dean grinned. "we're getting off track here. does this not maybe prove she's a bit more mature than you give her credit for?" dean pointed out, conveniently switching topics.
"covering for you being a grub hardly proves she's mature enough to balance school, football and a relationship." steph sighed, chopping up some fruit to make a smoothie. "but babe, technically she's already been doing that." dean pushed gently as steph paused, frown creeping into her features.
"has she failed a test?"
"no."
"handed in an assignment late?"
"no."
"seemed less sharp at football?"
"no."
"has she been playing poorly?"
"no."
"well..."
"yeah alright, i get your point." steph grumbled, pausing to massage her temples where she could feel a headache building. "talk to her steph. she's your sister she loves you, and even if she didn't tell you about her and kyra you know your approval means the world to her, she's always looked up to you." dean encouraged softly, standing and rounding the corner, steph melting into a warm hug.
"it really hurts i was one of the last to find out, i thought we were closer than that." steph mumbled into her fiances shoulder. "you are. maybe she didn't tell you because she was more worried about your reaction than other peoples, because it means more to her than anyone elses." dean offered as steph huffed.
"stop being right would you, its a very annoying switch up."
~
steph sighed and raised her hand, knocking on the door and taking a step back, arms crossed over her chest.
"oh! hi steph!" teyah made a point to say her name louder than needed making the australian chuckle. "you can relax with the warnings teyah, i just want to speak with kyra." steph spoke calmly, the blonde nodding and stepping aside.
"were you hiding behind the door?" steph raised an eyebrow as kyra instantly appeared, cheeks flushed bright red. "maybe." the younger girl mumbled, avoiding her gaze.
"i meant it, i just want to talk kyra." steph promised, the midfielder nodding in understanding as the older girl rolled her eyes. "are you going to let me in or are we going to stand here and chat with your neighbors too?" steph mocked as kyra stepped aside and allowed her in.
teyah caught kyras pleading gaze and made herself scarce, ignoring the girls silent begging not to leave her alone with steph who took a seat on the lounge, watching kyra squirm uncomfortably as the silence grew until she couldn't take it anymore.
"steph i'm so so so sorry we didn't tell you we were just worried about how you'd react and i wanted to leave the decision up to her since you're her family and i also didn't want to mess things up with you as well as her by jumping the gun and telling you first or pressuring her to tell you which hasn't worked because you're mad at me anyway but i really don't want to break up with her because i love her but i also love you but more like a sister even though thats weird because im dating your sister and-" kyra rambled out all in one breath, not pausing even for a second.
"kyra." she however fell silent at the single word, chest heaving slightly. "shut up and breathe." steph instructed as the midfielder exhaled shakily with a nod.
"how long have the two of you been together? don't lie to me." steph asked calmly, though her eyes warned the younger girl off of any dishonesty. "its complicated." kyra shifted with a frown.
"well, uncomplicate it." steph settled backward into the lounge more, crossing one leg over the other. "well we figured out we had feelings for one another awhile before we started dating, but with me in sweden and her in england we never had the time to give it a go-" kyra started with a sigh, steph nodding curtly for her to go on.
"then when the camp for the world cup rolled around and i let her know i'd be leaving sweden and trying to make a move over here, things changed, and we decided to try officially dating a few days before the tournament started." kyra explained, trying her best to untangle a rather twisted timeline.
"so you've been together for nearly six months." steph's voice was emotionless but kyra could see the thoughts swirling through her eyes and grimaced. "a little over five but...yeah." kyra mumbled, fiddling with her hands which sat in her lap.
so far this was easily the most serious conversation the two had ever had, and it was suffocating the younger girl.
"school. university is really important to her, and to me." steph stated, kyra opening and closing her mouth for a moment. "wait here." with that said the midfielder was up and darting off, steph watching her disappear with a confused frown.
though she returned not even a minute later, calendar and a small bag in hand which she promptly dumped in stephs lap, cautiously taking a seat closer to her than she was before.
"whats all this?" steph questioned not any less confused at the items in her lap. "well as we know im not really...an organised person." kyra sighed. "understatement of the century." steph mumbled, eyes raking over the pages in front of her.
"right. well i might not have a calendar for my every day life, my agent handles that." the midfielder blushed as steph rolled her eyes. "but i do have one for your sister. i know school is important to her and i don't want to get in the way of that steph, i promise." her tone softened as she grabbed the bag.
"i have all these coloured stickers and tabs-" she pulled open the drawstring and showed steph the inside who nodded slowly. "well they all mean different things, this is the key-" she pulled out a piece of card from inside the bag and handed it to steph.
"the blue tabs are days she has exams, the orange tabs are days she needs to study, the red tabs are days i can't interrupt her studying, normally a few days before her exams-" kyras finger moved across the key as steph nodded wordlessly.
"the yellow tabs are days where i need to force her to take a break so she doesn't burn out, and those aren't always days she has to spend with me either. the gold stars are days where her assignments are due, the footballs are game days, the kangaroos and international break and the little flowers are days off." kyra flicked through month after month, pointing out each sticker to steph who admittedly was still speechless.
"you can't even remember your boots on game day...but you keep track of her entire schedule?" the older girl eventually questioned, moving the calendar and bag onto the coffee table and turning to face a bright red kyra who shyly nodded.
"i-i love your sister steph. she runs rings around me and she has so much potential and drive and commitment, i don't want to ever hold her back. i know you might not think i'm good enough for her or smart enough or that im too immature or annoying but i really really care about her. she was my best friend before she was my girlfriend, i've always cared and i wouldn't dream of ever hurting her." kyra bounced her knee nervously as she spoke, feeling frightfully vulnerable and out of her comfort zone with this conversation.
"i know you care about her, and this just proves that." steph sighed deeply, nodding to the calendar. "its not that i don't think you're good enough for her kyra, and your intelligence has nothing to do with it. thats my baby sister, no one will ever be good enough for her." steph promised seriously as kyra nodded quickly.
"but it hurts that neither of you felt like you could come and speak with me about this. though you're not the one i need to have that conversation with-" steph exhaled, dragging her hands down her face and suddenly standing.
kyra followed suit, tracking after her back to the front door as steph pulled it open and hovered in the doorway. "i know you care about her kyra, i do. and you're both adults as hard as it is for me to admit that, and as much as you don't often act like one." kyra cracked a tiny smile at that.
"you don't need my permission or my approval, but you do have it-" steph assured softly as kyra breathed a long overdue sigh of relief, though that died in her throat as steph grabbed a fistful of her hoodie and tugged her closer.
"but if you ever and i mean ever hurt her kyra, you will pay for it. i will make your life a living hell and you will never speak to, look at or breathe near her again. got it?" steph warned seriously as kyra nodded hurriedly, the older girl smiling happily at the fear on her face.
"good, i'm glad we had this talk." steph let go, smoothing out her hoodie and squeezing kyra's shoulder with a nod. "see you at training tomorrow." steph turned to leave, kyra's head popping out of the door.
"i can call her to see where-"
"no it's okay, i know exactly where she is."
"oh and kyra?" steph turned one final time, catching the younger girls eye. "if i catch the two of you making out in a closet again, i will snap your ankle."
~
sure enough, you were exactly where steph thought you would be.
not far from her house in st albans there was a huge park that you often took calvin to when you wanted to read in the sun, the pair of you would curl up on a blanket and it never ceased to amaze steph just how calm the normally hyperactive pooch became when you needed him to be, dean teasing you were some sort of dog whisperer.
just as your sister thought you were laid down on a blanket, but there wasn't a book in your hands and the very moment calvin laid eyes on his mum he bolted, almost taking your hand off which was wrapped around his lead.
but knowing all too well he only went haywire like this for one person you let go with a sigh, closing your eyes and making no move to acknowledge the older girl when you felt her sit down beside you.
you grunted as calvin laid himself down, head flopping down onto your stomach as his bottom half curled up into steph who'd also laid down on the blanket, an uncomfortably tense silence between the pair of you.
"sorry for the poor tackle today." your sister broke it first, only getting a quiet hum from you in reply as she sighed, thinking carefully about her next words before speaking them.
"why didn't you tell me?" but of course that all went out the window as her curiosity burned forth, clouded by the hurt that came with the reveal.
"you cannot seriously be asking me that steph?" you scoffed, glancing to her and looking away with a roll of your eyes. "look at your reaction, why do you think i didn't tell you." you mumbled, crossing your arms and glaring up at the sky above.
"okay...fair." your sister sighed, a frown thrown her way by you surprised at the small admission of guilt. "i only lashed out because i was hurt that you didn't come to me first. you've never kept secrets from me before, at least not huge ones like this." the older girl confessed, pausing to give you a chance to think it over.
"i was worried you'd freak out, which you did. you always treat me like a baby and i'm not anymore steph, i'm old enough to make my own decisions and if those decisions have consequences then they are mine to deal with." you warned, adjusting your position slightly.
"again, that's fair." your sister agreed once more to your surprise. "you're being suspiciously agreeable." you mumbled, steph reaching over to shove you lightly, a slight smile on her lips.
"it may have been already pointed out to me that the way i handled this only made you not telling me more valid." steph admitted, a slightly more comfortable silence falling between the two of you for a few moments as you sat with your own thoughts.
"i spoke to kyra."
"i know, she called me panicking the moment she saw you pull up in the car park." you chuckled lightly, shielding your face with your hands as the clouds parted and the sun shone down.
"i talked her out of jumping out of her window before you got there though."
"she is...something else."
"but, you're happy. right?" steph sat up a little more and looked down with a frown of concern. "yeah i am. i know kyra can be a pest but when its just the two of us its different, i love her and she loves me and she would never treat me poorly or ever get in the way of football or school or anything." you followed her lead and sat up, grabbing the tennis ball from beside you and tossing it for calvin as he sprinted off.
"oh i know, i saw her little calendar." steph smiled wider as you frowned. "what calendar?" you questioned, confused as your sister raised an eyebrow. "i'll let her explain that, ask her about it." the older girl chuckled.
"maybe at dinner, at our place tomorrow." steph extended the final olive branch as you paused for a minute to think it over. "you won't be really weird about it? make her uncomfortable?" you questioned a little hesitantly.
"i will be your older sister who will never think anyones good enough for you, that your girlfriend should be at least a little scared of." steph smiled honestly as you rolled your eyes.
"she's already terrified of you."
"a wise choice. this might work out in my favor, she can annoy you instead of me." your sister grinned, poking you and whistling for calvin to come back as he was making some new friends.
"oh no we'll just both team up to annoy you now stephanie." you returned her grin as she groaned and grabbed calvins lead, clipping it onto his collar as you both made your way to your feet ready to head back home.
"hey. if you're happy then i would never stand in the way of that, as your sister all i ever want is you to be with someone who cares about you and though kyra might not have been my first choice, it isn't up to me anyway. you're right you are an adult, and maybe i need to work a little more on treating you like one." steph admitted, surprised as you stepped forward and hugged her tightly.
"well this is nice." your sister exhaled, cradling your head just like she would when you were much younger. "i'm sorry i waited so long to tell you, i didn't mean to upset you." you admitted into her shoulder. "i know, i can tell when you mean to upset me." the girl teased making you smile as you pulled away, grabbing the blanket and tucking it into the tote on your shoulder, the pair of you walking side by side.
"does you treating me like an adult mean you'll finally stop calling me peanut?"
"oh absolutely not, you'll always be my little peanut no matter how old you get."
"just when i thought we were having a nice moment."
"hey embarrassing you is my right as your older sister, you never get to take that away from me."
#woso#woso community#kyra cooney cross x reader#kyra cooney cross#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs#steph catley x reader#steph catley#awfc x reader
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Would you write for AK Jason? I like him mean. Like him and you are arguing and he gets all pissed off and makes you cry but it ends in angry sex.
say it back (18+, ak jason todd x fem reader) wc 5.5k
⭓ this post contains sexually explicit content and dark themes. it is not suitable for minors. please consider the tags and consume at your own discretion. not an example of a healthy relationship. jason might be kinda ooc here, but hey. it's fanfiction.
"You need to drop your fucking attitude." Jason hisses at you.
"Me? My attitude? I'm just trying to have a conversation, Jason, you're the one acting like-"
"Like what? Hm?" He stalks closer to you, and you take a step back reflexively.
"You're angry." You state simply, staring up at him with sadness in your eyes. "You're angry with me. Still. Aren't you?"
Jason's eyes pierce into your own, searching them for something as he takes a deep breath to calm himself. It takes several tense moments before he finally mutters, "Maybe I am."
"What more do you want from me, Jason? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I didn't come looking for you. I didn't know. Bruce told me you were-" Jason growls, and corners you against the wall until your back is pressed up against it.
"Don't fucking talk about him! Don't say his name, I'm sick of thinking about him!"
"Then what do you want me to do? I mourned you, Jason, I grieved for you. I didn't just forget about you. I could never." Tears begin to well up in your eyes. The guilt you feel for what your boyfriend went through is crushing. It haunts you every day. Every time you look at him and see that 'J' carved into his cheek, your self-hatred grows even deeper.
"There's nothing you can do now. What's done is done." His warm breath fans over your face. His eyes are narrowed, staring you down like you're the one who locked him up and tortured him.
"Why am I here, huh? Why do you keep me around if you refuse to forgive me?" You ask him, your voice quivering from grief and exasperation.
"Would you shut the fuck up?" He groans and slams his fist against the brick wall, just inches from your head. Your eyes widen when he does, a jolt of fear running through you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Jason's never hit you, but ever since he came back, you don't know what to expect from his behavior. He's erratic. Hurting. But at the same time, even more focused and calculating than ever. Its a terrifying combination, honestly.
He looks so much different now. Even though you're both still young, his features are harsher, his face hardened and scarred. You still see traces of the boy you fell in love with. It isn't always obvious, but you catch brief glimpses of the old him here and there. Its enough to keep you around, to remind yourself of how much you love him. Seeing him hurt like this and isolating himself is devastating.
"I don't know if I'm capable of forgiving you." He says between labored breaths. His eyes are dark, filled with a pain he refuses to share. "You left me in there to rot. The things he did to me, the things he made me do-"
"Jay." Your voice breaks, warm tears trailing down your cheeks. "Please, baby, I'm sorry. I failed you. I know I did." You reach out tentatively to caress his cheek, avoiding the scar. "I want to be here for you. I want to help you. But I feel like me being here is making things worse.”
Maybe you’re imagining it, but you catch a flicker of something in his expression. A crack in the hard mask he’s been wearing. “What are you saying?”
“If you hate me so much, maybe I should leave.” You struggle to get the words out. You hate yourself for even suggesting it. But the past few weeks with Jason have been tumultuous at best, and you’re not sure that your presence is actually helping him. If anything, you feel like you trigger him just by existing.
“Leave?” He asks, his face contorting in pain and anger. “You’re going to leave me? Really?”
“Only if that’s- I mean, I don’t know, Jason! I don’t know!” Unable to hold it in anymore, a heavy sob shakes your body, and you look away in shame. He’s still got you pinned against the wall, his arms caging you in and keeping you from turning away. “I just want you to be happy. I don’t think I’m capable of giving you happiness anymore. You won’t talk to me. All you do is yell. I want to be here for you, more than anything. But you won’t let me in. Maybe you’ll be better off without me.” Your voice is hushed and thick with emotion. You don’t want to leave him, now that he’s finally back. You were over the moon when you realized who was behind the Arkham knights mask.
Your best friend. Your lover, back from the dead.
But he hasn’t been the same. And you can’t blame him. He doesn’t go into detail about what happened, but you can see the evidence of his torture on his body. Not that he’s let you get too close.
He referred to you as ‘his girl’ in front of his militia. And now, after Gotham has recovered from the events surrounding his return, his hired men know that you’re to be protected at all costs. But other than a brief kiss upon your initial reunion, Jason hasn’t touched you. Yet he’s kept you close, physically, insisting you stay with him in his hideout. You quit your job, moved out of your apartment, left behind your old life as a law-abiding citizen to devote yourself to him and his cause. But your loyalty has been rewarded with him being emotionally closed-off and bitter towards you. It has you questioning where the two of you stand, and if he even wants you here.
“You’re wrong.” His voice is still harsh as he lowers his head to try and meet your eyes. He's close enough that you're able to smell his scent, a mix between his body wash and his natural musk. It draws you in, but you don't dare lean into him, in fear of fueling his annoyance towards you.
"Then why are you so mean to me?" You hate how weak you sound. You wish you were stronger, but being Jason's emotional punching bag has taken it's toll on you.
"I..." Some of his anger seems to fade, but his eyes are still swimming with turmoil. "I can be nicer."
"That isn't an answer."
Jason swallows hard, and removes his forearms from the wall so he's no longer caging you in. His jaw is clenched as he keeps staring at you and thinking about how to respond.
"I don't know." He finally says. "All I know is that I don't want you to go."
You slip to the side so you're no longer sandwiched between him and the wall, and take a step backwards to distance yourself. "I can't handle much more of this, Jason. It's too much. I can't stand fighting like this. It hurts me."
The look on your face has Jason's pulse quickening. "I'll be nicer." He says again.
"Jas-"
"I mean it." He reaches for your hand, and you need to consciously keep yourself from flinching away. "Just please, don't go."
Your heart aches at his plea. You don't want to leave, of course you'd rather be here. But you're not quite naïve enough to believe him when he say's he'll be nicer. You look down at where your hands are entwined, eyeing the thin silvery scars that litter his hand and wrist. Your mind briefly wanders, wondering what nightmare gave him those. Too thin to be from rope burn. Maybe zip ties. A few more tears pool in your eyes and blur your vision at the mental image of him being restrained in such an inhuman way.
"If you really want me, I'll stay." You whisper,
His eyes light up, but the relief doesn't touch the frown that's seemingly permanently etched onto his strong features. "Come here."
You don't fight the gentle tug on your hand. You let Jason hug you close to him, his heart still beating fast in his chest. You feel the steady rhythm against your cheek when he pulls you close and holds you against him. He's still angry, you can sense it radiating off of him in waves. But he's making a pointed effort to stay calm, which is an improvement.
"I don’t hate you. I love you. You know that, right?" He asks. You get a odd, fluttery feeling in your stomach. Not the same as the feeling you got the first time he told you he loved you. It’s a weird, perverted ghost of the feeling, one that makes the ache in your chest even worse.
You don't want to answer him. What would you even say? That you love him too? He already knows that, surely. And he laughed at you last time you told him. In front of several of his men. It was humiliating, and you've avoided saying it ever since.
"Hm? You know that, right?" He tightens his hold on you, his strong arms encouraging you to answer.
"Yeah. I know." You mumble back.
Jason looks down at you, and pulls away far enough to look you in the eyes again. What you would give to know what's going on in his head. It’s like a whirlwind of emotions are playing across his face.
You don't expect him to lean in and capture your lips in a sudden kiss. You freeze for a beat before you kiss him back, not quite relaxing against him, but letting yourself move with him. Still, it feels off. Almost like you're kissing a stranger. He isn't familiar anymore, which only encourages the tears to keep falling hot and slow down your cheeks.
As your tongues dance together, Jason begins to explore your body, warm hands running up and down your back. You wouldn't describe his touch as gentle, but he moves slowly and deliberately, finally resting on your ass and kneading your fat with his strong hands.
Is this his idea of 'being nicer'? You wonder to yourself. But you don't stop him. He's the only man you've ever loved, and when you thought he was dead, you missed his touch more than anything. Craved it. And you still do, even though you're more wary of him now. If you were thinking clearly, you'd probably stop his hand from sneaking down the front of your pants, and tell him that you should both take a breather and calm down. But he's left you so desperate for any speck of affection that you can't bring yourself to turn him away.
His hands are warm against your skin, but goosebumps still prickle your skin from the contact. He slips his hand in your underwear, not bothering to take his time. The sudden feeling of his rough fingers against your labia has you whimpering into his mouth. Jason rubs firm circles over your neglected clit as he breaks the kiss. "Yeah, you know?" He says back in a mocking tone. "Your body knows. She missed me, didn't she?"
The way he calls your cunt 'she' leaves a weird taste in your mouth. You pretend not to notice. "Of course I missed you." You say back to him. You grip his forearm gently and caress his skin with your thumb, feeling his muscles move and flex as he pleasures you, while your other arm grips his shoulder to steady your body. It's hard to relax with all the pent up tension you have inside. But you focus on his fingers, and how good it feels to be touched by your boyfriend again after so long.
"How quick did you move on. Hm?" His deep voice almost sounds like it's rumbling as asks. "How many people have you fucked since I disappeared?"
His question feels like a daggar to your heart. Maybe he really doesn't know, doesn't understand how hard his 'death' hit you. You haven't spoken about it much to him, since he obviously suffered much worse than you did while you were apart. It would feel insensitive to open up about the deep depression you fell into, one that your friends and even Dick tried and failed to help you out of. It was all you could do to even finish high school and get a job. You didn't see anyone else. You barely hung out with anyone. All you did was work and sleep. It was like the joy was sucked from your life the day you lost him.
But Jason doesn't know this. He mistakes your silence for shame, and he uses his other hand to cup your chin and force you to look at him as his fingers slowly warm you up. "What's wrong? Lost count?" The bitterness and mistrust are second nature to him now, after enduring Jokers sick mind games.
"No one... I promise." You lip trembles as the pleasurable sensations build between your legs. You grow wetter under his touch, even though your heart is heavy with grief.
"S'that right?" Jason lets out a dark chuckle and removes his hands from you abruptly. "Take your clothes off."
You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You hesitate, looking from him to his bed along the opposite wall. Jason brings his fingers to his mouth, and to your horror, he sucks them clean, tasting your arousal without breaking eye contact.
"Do you want this?" He asks, growing annoyed at how you're freezing up.
"Do I want, what?" You say back a little too quickly.
Jason's nostrils flare as he lets out an irritated sigh. "Me. Do you want me to fuck you?"
Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you stammer out a hurried "Yes."
“You sure about that? Doll?” He cocks his head at you and studies your face carefully. The old nickname brings back memories, memories you’re sure are far too sweet in comparison to what’s about to happen.
But it doesn’t stop you from nodding at him all the same. You want him, there’s no denying that. Even if he isn’t the same boy you fell in love with, he’s still Jason. Your Jason.
Breathing heavily, Jason leans down to you so you're face to face once again. "Then take. Your fucking. Clothes. Off. Before I rip them off of you."
You glare at him through teary eyes, not appreciating the threat. But you’re not going to pass up the opportunity for intimacy. Hardening your gaze to match his, you hurridly remove your clothing piece by piece, folding the garments and setting them down neatly on the table beside you.
Jason surprisingly keeps his eyes on yours. Even as you reveal more of your body to him, his focus is on your face, not faltering.
When you step out of your underwear and set them on top of the pile, you finally say “You next.”
A dark chuckle departs Jason’s scarred lips before he replies, “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
Confused, you give him a quizzical look as he stomps over to his bed and kicks off his boots. They land beside him with a thud, making you jump a little.
“Get the fuck over here.”
Jason’s voice echoes across the studio apartment ominously. It’s pissing you off, how he’s still being so brash after just promising to be nicer to you. You shiver and run your hand up and down your arm while you walk over to join him, the cool air against your bare skin making you feel even more vulnerable. It’s clear to you that he’s enjoying this. Sitting on the edge of his bed, still almost fully clothed, finally letting himself drink in the sight of your naked body as you approach him.
“You’ve changed.” He comments after a few moments of tense silence. And he isn’t wrong. You’ve matured in the time he was gone, you’re a bit taller, your hair is longer, looking less like a teenager and more like a woman. But the changes in your body are subtle compared to his. Jason is at least 6 inches taller than what you remember. He’s put on a lot of muscle, and his features are sharper. Harsher, even. His face is different. Even ignoring the scars, there’s a new depth to him that’s hard to pinpoint.
You wonder how much of his transformation is due to just growing up, like you, and how much of it is from the trauma he experienced. Surely, being malnourished and tortured as a teenager would stunt a persons growth. But the man in front of you is anything but stunted. He’s massive. Again, your mind wonders about the details of his absence, about how long he took to recover from his torture before returning as the Arkham Knight.
“You just gunna stand there and gawk at me, or are you going to help me out?”
“Sorry.” You mutter hastily, embarrassed to be caught zoning out. You focus on him again, and realize he has his pants unzipped and his cock in his hand, stroking it with lust-clouded eyes. It takes a good deal of effort to hide the shock on your face from the sight as heat rushes between your legs. Your cheeks turn red, and you place your hand on his knee to steady yourself before you kneel in front of him. “You’ve changed too.”
Jasons pupils dilate when you place your hand over his own, taking over for him and stroking him lightly. He is already hard as a rock, his veins bulging under your touch.
“Way to state the obvious.” He leans back casually and uses his hands to prop himself up against the bed. Using both of your hands now, you jerk him off carefully, hoping he doesn’t notice the trembling in your fingers. “That’s it… shiiit, spit on it, baby, can you do that for me?”
With nervous excitement you obey his request, gathering some saliva with your tongue and letting it drip from your mouth down onto his shaft. His cock is feverish to the touch. The groan that rumbles in his chest as you spread your spit over him triggers emotions you haven't felt in a long time.
“Fuck yes, nice and sloppy for me, shit.”
You want to tug his pants down his legs to give yourself better access, but your instincts are telling you it’s a bad idea. Even as you became more aroused from his reactions, you still maintain a strong sense of unease, like he could snap at you without a moments notice.
When you peer up at his face, his eyes are closed, and some of the anger and tension he was holding onto is less apparent now. It gives you a spark of excitement, pride, even, that you’re finally able to provide him some peace.
His expression gives you enough confidence to lean your head down and take him in your mouth. You start with a soft kiss against his tip, then you swirl your tongue around it slowly, trying to gauge his reaction.
“M’not in the mood for teasing, doll.” Jason groans. “Better take a deep breath.”
That is all the warning he gives you before his hand grips the back of your head and pushes your mouth down onto him. You gag a little at the sudden intrusion before you remember to relax your throat to allow him fully in.
Another deep moan fills your ears when Jason feels you gag around him. Your eyes water as your nose brushes against the dark hair at the base of his cock. He’s definitely bigger than the last time you two did this. Or perhaps you’re just out of practice. Whatever the reason, you struggle to suck him off properly. After a few seconds of deep-throating him, pull your mouth away to cough and catch your breath.
“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He growls. "That felt good."
“You’re being a jerk.” You sputter out between coughs. “You said you’d be nicer to me.”
“This is me being nice.” He argues, bringing his hand to his cock to stroke himself again now that you've abandoned your effort. “You don’t want to suck me off? Fine. Get on the bed.”
“It’s not that I-“
“Get on the fucking bed.”
He stands up, and you’re momentarily scared he’s going to drag you. But his grip on your arm isn’t harsh, just a firm guide as he helps you onto the cheap mattress. You lay on your back and settle against the bedding, but Jason promptly flips you over, helping you onto your hands and knees.
You the mattress creek as he positions himself behind you. A quick look over your shoulder results in him gripping your hair and pushing your face into his pillows. "Stay just like that." He warns.
"Seriously? What, y-you're not going to let me look at you? Or kiss you?"
"Do you want me to fuck you or not?" The irritation returning to his gravely voice.
You close your eyes and try to stop your tears. You exhale a deep, steadying breath before you reply, "Yes, Jay, of course I do."
"Then quit complaining." The mattress shifts again as Jason moves behind you, his still clothed legs pressed against your rear. His left hand rests firmly on your waist, and a second later you feel him rub the tip of his cock against your clit. He drags himself up to the entrance of your cunt slowly, them back down again. He languidly repeats this back and fourth several times while he mutters under his breath "Shit... look at you, doll, touched your pussy for 5 seconds and you're already soaked for me." Jason smacks his shaft against your cunt a few times, your body visibly tensing when you feel the tip press against your asshole. "Relax," Jason scoffs, "I know you don't like that shit. You couldn't handle me in there before, there's no way you could take me there now."
Jason's weight shifts forward, pressing his hips into you. It only takes a moment for him to find the give and sheath the tip of his engorged length inside of your cunt. Green eyes stare in awe as he watches himself slowly disappear inside of you, pausing halfway, savoring how warm and wet you feel. He curses when your inner muscles clench and relax in little spasms as you try and accommodate him. "So fucking tight, goddammit, doll, shit, shiiit... feels so good when you do that."
Your eyes roll back at how badly you've missed the feeling him inside of you. This part, this feels familiar. This doesn't feel like a stranger. Your heart fills with relief, a sense of comfort washing over you and helping you to relax.
Jason pushes even further inside when your inner walls lax around his girth. A soft hiss escapes your teeth when his crown kisses your cervix. It's too bad that you miss the grin on his face as he takes in your reaction.
"You really haven't been with anyone else, have you? Tssk." Jason slaps your ass and watches the slight recoil in awe. "I can tell. You held out. You know what that tells me?" His large hands plant themselves on either side of you against the bed. Jason leans down, shifting his weight onto you and forcing you down into the mattress, prone-bone, fully bottoming out inside your tight cunt.
A whimper falls from your throat at the sting of how he stretches you. It creates an ache deep inside of you, deep enough that only he could reach.
"Tells me you knew I was still around. You're a liar."
"W-what?" That sense of ease and comfort is gone just as quick as it came.
Jason says your name in disapproval, "We both know you're loyal to a fault. That's why you're here. That's why you put up with my shit." His clothed chest presses against the soft skin of your back as his hips begin a slow rolling motion, thrusting into you while he brings his lips to your ear, brushing against your earring. "Me dying is the only way you could ever move on from me. But I did die. And you didn't move on. Which means you knew. You knew I was alive. Which is why you didn't betray me, even when Dick was practically throwing himself at you."
His pace increases as he speaks. His words are tainted with an bitter smugness, which makes your stomach churn.
"Jason, Jay, baby, that doesn't make any sense. I really t-thought you were gone-hmmpht!" Jason gives a sharper thrust which interrupts your explanation.
"Then why didn't you move on?" He's asks in a tense whisper.
"I couldn't!" You cry out in exasperation.
"Exactly".
His hips are rolling faster against you now, only pulling out an inch or so before thrusting back in, too greedy to pull out any further. He stays deep and buries himself as far as possible inside your neglected cunt. The friction feels divine, even if the rough cotton of his t-shirt is rubbing against your back instead of his bare chest. You long for skin to skin. The closeness is something you crave, but Jason, for whatever reason, decides to deprive you of it, even though he's balls deep in your guts.
"Fuck off!" You spit out between your shallow pants and moans. "You're being a jerk!"
"Yeah?" His voice strains as his pace picks up even more. The mattress is squeaking softly and bumping up against the wall with each rut of his hips. "I'm a jerk? You think I'm a jerk?"
You moan in frustration and pound your fist against the mattress. It's difficult for you to find the right words to say when his cock is hitting all the right spots inside you. You've dreamt of this, being forced to live with the longing inside of you for a partner you thought you'd never see again. It's everything you've been craving, to be one with him again. But he's souring the intimacy with his smartass mouth.
"I don't wanna fight, Jay." You mutter in response to him. Jason's hand cradles the back of your head and pushes it further into the pillows. You're almost ashamed at how it turns you on, being crushed and handled roughly by him like this.
"Ha, don't believe that for a second." A warm hand snakes down the side of your body and slips around your hips so he has access to your clit. He's still pistoning deep into you, now nipping and biting at your neck as his fingers work your sensitive nub, sandwiched between your body and the mattress. The added stimulation makes you squeeze your thighs together. "C'mon, too late to be shy, doll. Open up f’me." His voice is a gruff rumble in you ear. It sends a chill down you spine and makes your toes curl, clenching around him to alleviate the pool of tension building in your core.
You should have better self control. You should rise above, be better than his antics. But your mind is reeling and trying to reconcile how good he’s making you feel with how irritated you are. So without much thought, you quip back, “Says the man who won't even take his shirt off when he fucks."
“The fuck did you just say?” Jason pinches your clit between his fingers, earning a sharp yelp from you that’s muffled against his pillows. His pace doesn’t falter, but his body tenses as the anger finds him again.
The sting lingers, and you push your thighs together even more, effectively squeezing him out of you somewhat unintentionally.
“No, none of that now, you’re going to let me in.”
A deep inhale blesses your lungs when Jason pushes himself up off of you, leaning back and grabbing your hips to force you on your hands and knees once more. You grip the sheets and steady yourself, unprepared for the harsh smack that stings your ass cheek.
“Ouch!” You whimper, taking a chance to look back at him again. Your lips part to voice your protest, but Jason chooses this moment to impale your body back onto him and fill up your dripping cunt in a single jolt. You swallow the cry that threatens to leave your lips. You feel so full, your eyes flutter when he starts his pace up again, the sound of wet skin smacking against wet skin filling the apartment. He’s going faster now, his fingers almost painful on your hips as the uses your body for release.
“Look at how wet you are, doll, shit.” Jason’s eyes are heavy with desire as the line between lust and anger starts to dissolve. “You know what I think?” He asks through gritted teeth.
You’re hardly in a state to answer him. The friction of his arousal pounding in and out of you, the weight of his heavy balls slapping against your clit, the sound of him straining and losing control, its making it difficult to focus on much else. As your arousal builds, your brain slows down, unable to comprehend anything other than your boyfriends cock filling you to the brim.
“I think you like when I’m mean. Look at how soaked you are right now, dripping onto my bed like a greedy slut.”
A low, depraved moan vibrates in your throat, only further proving his point.
“Ha, that’s right. Fucking… fucking knew it, god- fuck, taking me so good, so fucking good.” Jason moans your name, repeating it as he senses his release getting closer. His fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your hips, hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow.
“Fucking love this, I… I… dammit, I love you, doll. I love you so much.” Jason's filter is gone. He’s lost in the feeling of your soft pussy squeezing him, the wet sounds of your sex bringing him to the brink.
Each hard thrust of his hips has your body recoiling. Your chest falls down to the bed, hands gripping the pillow for dear life as the vigilante relentlessly pounds into you.
“I said... I love you, bitch.” His voice actually wavers slightly at the repeated admission, his emotions peaking and threatening to spill out.
You try to respond to him, you really do. But Jason fucks the air right out of your lungs, moving at a bruising pace, ramming himself so deep in your body that your vision is blurry and nothing even close to a real word has a chance at leaving your lips. You're breathless and cock drunk as he abuses that soft spot inside of you, building up your pleasure to an unbearable level. You're close. And so is he. You tremble and pant as your orgasm hits you hard, a warm fuzzy sensation radiating between your legs where your bodies meet, more of your slick splattering Jason's thighs in droplets from how hard he's fucking you. The sensation of your pussy convulsing around his hard length is the final push he needs.
You attempt to muffle the fragmented scream that falls from your mouth at his last few brutal thrusts. Jason curses, his breath catching as his balls tighten and release his load into you, mixing with your own fluids to create a sticky mess that oozes out around his cock. His hips finally slow, giving a few more gentle pumps as he rides his high. His labored breathing is accompanied by more curses and soft groans. You stay still, reeling from your own release, your mind still fuzzy and not thinking clearly.
Jason leans forward, putting his weight one hand while the other reaches for your flushed face, reaching around to grip your chin firmly. Following his lead, you let him turn your head to finally look back at him. The anger is still there. You're not sure if it will ever go away. But there is a vulnerability in his eyes that wasn't there before. He's still inside of you, hunched over your body, flushed face only inches from yours.
"Say it back."
Your eyes widen at how broken he sounds. It takes a few seconds before you can get your mouth to move, but as soon as you've gathered yourself you respond, you say "I love you, Jason" with as much tenderness as you can muster.
He nods, eyes narrowing, before finally sitting up and removing himself from you. "Good." He mumbles, moving until he's sitting on the edge of the bed and sighing. "Remember that next time you threaten to leave."
"It... it wasn't a threat." You explain, but you're so breathless and fucked-out that you're not sure if he hears you. Relaxing onto the bed, you lay on your side to look at him with worry. The emotions inside of you are tumultuous, confusing you even further as you try and decide if this was progress or not.
"I keep you around because you belong here. With me." Jason stands up, avoiding your anxious gaze and keeping his back to you. "Don't fucking forget it." His feat thud against the floor as he walks over to the bathroom, disappearing and closing the door behind him with a slam.
⭓ masterlist ⭓
please don’t steal my work. don't upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.
#purple-obsidian#18+ content#ooc jason todd#tw: toxic relationships#tw: angst#tw: referenced torture#angry sex#past trauma#probably new trauma too#traumatized jason todd#ak jason todd x reader#arkham knight x reader#ak jason todd smut#arkham knight smut#ak jason todd x you#arkham knight x you#dc smut#jason todd smut#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#angst#angst angst angst#sid answers#i may have went overboard#thanks for the ask!#batman: arkham knight
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as someone who lives with chronic back pain, this audio i stumbled across reminded me of this fantasy i have and i think san fits the script (a little too) perfectly
(heed the tags on the audio— it includes some kinks i stray away from in my writing that might be a turn off for some)
nsfw 18+ // mdni
“hi, baby.”
you dog-ear the page you’re on and set your book on the bedside table to give your boyfriend your full attention. “hi. good shower?”
“mhm,” san answers cheerfully. “i’m sorry i didn’t greet you properly when i first got home. i just needed to wash the day off of me first.”
“it’s okay, i know the feeling,” you assure him, stretching your arm out across the sheets for his hand.
he approaches the bed and takes your hand, squeezing comfortingly. “speaking of feelings, how are you feeling, my love? any better?”
you nod. “a little. still sore.”
san pouts. “i figured. i’m sorry, baby. is there anything i can do? do you want some tea? want me to get your other heating pad?”
“well….”
san perks up as you trail off. you almost never ask him for anything, even when you have these longer bouts of consistent pain, even though he’s always so eager to help.
“what is it? whatever it is, i’ll do it.”
you doubt he’ll feel that way when you tell him but-
“fuck me?”
your boyfriend’s smile falters but you swear you see his cock twitch traitorously beneath his towel. “except for that.”
“but you said-”
“you know we can’t,” san chides. “not when you’re hurting.”
“it’s not even that bad,” you insist.
“you’re lying.”
“but i want you.”
“so let me get you off like we’ve been doing,” he says, settling on the bed next to you.
he reaches between your knees to part them but you hold them together so that he can’t, even though it puts a strain on your back. san could easily overpower you if he wanted to, he often does when you’re feeling more like yourself, but when you’re like this… he’s overly gentle. it’s sweet, the way he treats you so delicately, but it gets frustrating when all you want him to do is the exact opposite.
san frowns. “baby…” you don’t budge. “you’re not going to let me?”
“i want your dick.”
“i know but it isn’t a good idea.”
“you don’t even have to go hard, you could just stick it in-”
“you’re unbelievable,” san mumbles, leaning forward to kiss your knee.
“is that a yes?”
he sighs, “we really shouldn’t…”
“you don’t want to?”
“it’s not about wanting to, baby. of course i want to. i always want to.”
“it doesn’t seem like it,” you mutter.
san pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. “that’s because i’m trying to think about what’s best for you. i… i know myself and i know that if i’m not careful i could make your pain worse.”
your expression softens and you release the tension from your legs, allowing san to spread them. he looks up at you in surprise.
“i don’t deserve you,” you say pitifully, then before san can deny it, "i just miss you. it's been so long."
he rubs your thigh soothingly. "i know, baby. i miss you too. do you know how hard it is to sit here and not give you what you want? especially when what you want is..." he gulps, "me... inside of you. god, even just saying it is making me hard."
"you were already hard," you point out.
"it's making me harder," he clarifies.
"you know what would help with that?"
san glares at you. "a cold shower?"
"no-"
"yeah, i know," he sighs, defeated.
"can we try?" you ask, bringing his hand further up your thigh.
his fingers flex against the plush of your inner thigh in restraint, lips pursed in thought.
"you just want me to put it in?"
"well, i want you to fuck me but i'll settle for that."
san scoffs. "promise you'll tell me if it hurts?"
"promise."
"want me to grab a condom?"
"no, just take the towel off."
"such a romantic," he teases as he slips it from his waist.
he helps you get your panties off, making you sit all the way up instead of simply arching your back so he can pull the fabric from underneath you.
"you're sure you don't want me to just eat you out?" he asks, swallowing thickly, gaze fixed between your legs.
"you can eat your cum out of me if you really want to."
"don't threaten me with a good time," san murmurs as he positions himself on top of you, pressing a kiss to your cheek as thanks. he takes your hand in one of his and lines himself up with the other. "remember, you promised to tell me if it hurts."
"i know, i promise."
"like, if it hurts at all. even just a little bit."
"i will!"
"and i mean it-"
"babe! don't you trust me?"
san sighs, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "i do, of course i do. but i also know you, and i know you won't say anything if it means i get to feel good." you make a face. he had you there. "see? i know you, baby."
"ok, but i promise i'll tell you. pinky promise." you even offer him your pinky, which he loops around his own and kisses to seal. "so can you please put your cock inside of me?"
"so impatient," san mutters to himself. he pushes in the tiniest bit, though, just the head to shut you up. "shit, you're so wet- jesus fucking christ."
"keep going," you beg, "please, more."
"yeah baby, i will, i will... but we're not fucking, alright? just putting it in. f-fuck, i don't think i could last if we did fuck. i don't know if i can last just doing this, it's been so long since i felt you..."
it's also been so long that he feels bigger than you remember and you start to tear up as soon as he's more than an inch inside. you can tell it's taking all of his self control to go this slow. his hips stutter when you clench around him for the first time and he has to squeeze his eyes shut and then stare at the ceiling for a few seconds to gather himself.
but then he looks back down at you and sees you crying and immediately panics.
"oh my god, it hurts, doesn't it? i knew this was a bad idea. i'm so sorry, baby-"
"no! no, it feels good, sannie. i promise. it feels good."
he looks like he doesn't fully believe you but then you tighten around him again and he gives in, cursing as bottoms out.
you lay like that together for a few moments before you start to get impatient again. you really thought you could handle just cockwarming him but being full of him only made you needier. shocking.
"how is it, baby?" san whispers, likely to try and hide the shakiness in his voice. "this what you needed?"
you sniffle and nod. "but i want more," you admit.
san mumbles your name in warning but you're already too far gone.
"please? please fuck me, please fuck me," you're begging and it's a little pathetic but you can't bring yourself to care. "please just a little bit, just a tiny bit."
"we agreed," he reminds you.
"i know but i need more," you whine, "i know you need more too, i can feel you pulsing inside of me... please, baby, i want to cum on your cock so bad."
your boyfriend hangs his head. "i don't know if i can," he confesses.
"you won't hurt me."
"no, i mean, i'm already so close that i don't know if i'll be able to make you cum first if i start moving- fuck, why did me admitting that make you wetter?"
"because i love you?" you try.
"you love that i'm weak for you," he amends.
"two things can be true."
san tightens his jaw and shakes his head down at you as he draws his hips back a fraction of what he normally would and pushes them forward again, building an agonizingly slow but steady pace. "you're lucky i love you too."
#the audio is hot in theory but the aforementioned elements took a lot out of it for me#ateez smut#atz smut#san smut#choi san smut
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Knight
Katie McCabe x England!Reader
Summary: You yell at your sister
"Well, well, well," Beth teases the moment she comes in from the showers. Her finger waggles in your direction. "If it isn't the knight in shining armour!"
You sigh, rolling your eyes.
"I think you silenced the whole stadium," Steph agrees with a little laugh," I've never seen you speak so loudly before!"
"Please stop talking."
"I mean, once second Katie's getting tackled and the next you look like you're about to clobber your sister!"
You huff, pulling on your shirt. "She shouldn't have come anywhere near Katie. It was reckless and stupid and Katie could have been seriously hurt!"
The image still replays in your mind. It stayed running on loop throughout the whole of your shower.
You don't know what was up with your sister this whole match but she clearly had it out for Katie. Wherever Katie was, so was your sister, sliding in on Katie's ankle time after time after time.
You'd had enough around the seventieth minute when Beth slid in and sent Katie tumbling to the ground.
And, yeah, maybe you yelled. Maybe you practically silenced the stadium with how loud you'd done it and maybe the almighty Spurs captain that was your sister, was greeted with the reason why everyone always compared you to Mum.
Mum was quiet. Some might even describe her as meek but she could yell. She rarely did but when it happened, everyone knew they had gone a step too far.
You'd always been like Mum, quiet enough that it was almost to your detriment, nervous enough that you didn't fight your own battles sometimes. You looked like her. You sounded like her.
You had her disposition and attitudes.
The colour had drained from Beth's face the moment you raised your voice, echoing across the pitch from your goal at the Arsenal end. She went as white as her shirt and backed up immediately...
And you had gone back into your goal silently.
You should have known no one was going to let it go.
Least of all, your actual girlfriend who, surprisingly, hadn't joined in on the teasing but had stayed stuck to your side ever since the match ended.
She'd shared a shower with you. She's changed with you and now, she was sat in her cubby waiting for you to finish braiding your hair out of your face.
"I think it was very sweet," She says finally, an easy grin on her face," Truly a knight in shining armour."
"Don't you start," You mutter, grabbing your back and throwing it over your shoulder," This is already embarrassing enough. I need to apologise to Beth."
"You don't need to apologise to me!" Arsenal Beth laughs and you roll your eyes again, sticking up your middle finger as you walk out with Katie.
"You looked good though," Katie says as soon as you're out of eavesdropping range of the changing room," Defending me and all that."
You huff. "Beth shouldn't have been going in on you like that and that ref was useless."
"But, still, the shouting? I don't think I've ever heard you shout like that before. Not even when I made your hot chocolate with water."
You stamp your foot childishly. "Hot chocolate made with water is sacrilegious and not acceptable in my house."
Katie rolls her eyes, an arm thrown over your shoulder. "Your sister really got what was coming to her. It's nice that I'm not the one coming away with the yellow today."
"Don't worry," You reply wryly," I'm sure you'll make up for it next match."
"We still up for dinner tonight?"
"So long as Beth keeps her feet to herself."
It was tradition now that at the end of a London Derby, you would go and have dinner with your parents and your sister. Katie too, though she had been a more recent addition since you had started dating.
"Your sister isn't crazy," Katie laughs," But don't worry." She winks at you. "You'll keep her in line, my knight in shining armour."
"Don't call me that," You say with no real bite in your tone," Because then everyone else will call me that too. I've only just shed Pigeon. Don't bring in another one."
"Don't worry," Katie says, sliding into the driver's seat," I won't let anyone else hear me use it."
"Katie-"
"Except maybe your sister but I can't control that."
"What did you say to her today?" You ask, staring out the window as Katie drove to the usual restuarant.
"To who?"
"To my sister. She isn't that aggressive usually and I know you, Katie. You're a shit-stirrer."
"I didn't!"
"I know you," You repeat," Come on, I won't be mad."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Katie sighs. "I made a joke."
"A joke?"
"Yeah."
"About?"
"Our sex life."
You sigh, a little laugh bubbling out from your throat. "Oh, Katie. Not again."
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kiss with a fist
“you hit me once, i hit you back, you gave a kick, i gave a slap”
===+++===
pairing: tara carpenter x reader
summary: tara needs a favour from perhaps the person she hates most on earth, but it just ends up drawing the both of you closer together.
warnings: explicit sexual content, fake dating 🤯, enemies to lovers, contrived plot because ha ha ha
word count: 4.8k
A/N: kinda had a lot of fun with this one. might do a part two, might just leave it as is, but let me know. inspired by kiss with a fist by florence + the machine (duh), lovely night from la la land, and various other inspirations.
===+++===
===+++===
The moment your front door opened on its hinges, Tara Carpenter was pushing past you and barging straight into your apartment, stepping right over the threshold and checking you with her shoulder. You barely had a chance to process it, before she had wandered down the hall and into your kitchen in a blur.
You rolled your eyes, knowing you were in for an annoying ass conversation and slamming the door shut. “What do you want?” You called into your own apartment loud enough for her to hear you in the other room.
“Don’t be a prick about it. This is the last place I wanted to go,” she shot back, and you sighed to yourself in your dark hallway before fixing your hair in the mirror and following her inside. There was only about an hour of her bullshit you could put up with and then you’d be saved by the bell anyhow.
“Whatever happened to ‘hello,’ Tara?” You said, crossing your arms and coming in to against the doorframe. She had jumped up onto your counter, legs swinging and fingers gripping the edge of the blue ice glass tiles. In her left hand she picked up the bottle of wine you had left out next to some glasses and began to read the label.
"Lecture me later,” she said, not looking up at you, You were about to reply, or more aptly, tell her to get the hell out of your apartment, but she put the bottle down and narrowed her eyes at you, clearly struggling to say what she was really there for.
“Look, (Y/n), I need your help.” Ah. There it was.
"Hah," you scoffed without hesitation. "No."
She threw up her hands. "I didn’t even say what I was asking for.”
“Still, no. I’m not helping you.”
“Could you just not be an asshat for five minutes and listen to me? Like, is that too hard for you? Are you medically incapable?" She shot back.
"You're sitting on my counter. I didn't bust into your house and start making demands but here you are in mine,” you said.
"I'm asking for a favour," said Tara, raising her voice. "Asking."
"Wasn't much of a question though, was it," you replied. Maybe being a dick back to her would make her leave. She had always been able to dish it but never able to take it, and you wanted to make her. "You said 'I need a favour.' There's no question in that."
"No, I actually said I need your help, now would you shut up and listen?"
You scowled. "Y'know, I'm not really in a helpful mood tonight."
"Like you have something better to do,” Tara scoffed, raising her eyebrows at you.
"And what if I do?"
"Then I'd say you're lying. What, you don’t want to help me because you’re watching your stupid show, or reading or something?” she challenged back, getting up off your counter and walking towards you. You straightened up, glaring down at her. She only came up to about your chest, but the short girl still did her best to seem intimidating.
With you she always frustratingly failed to even make the smallest dent, though that probably stemmed from the fact you could pick her up and punt her like a football if you wanted to. On the days she managed to really piss you off, the thought grew more enticing.
"For your information, I was supposed to have a date," you said. Tara blinked at this, looking down from your stupid face. You wore a thick black turtleneck and some pleated black pants that hung stylishly from your waist. The wine made sense now, and Tara felt like an idiot.
“What’d you pay them?” she clapped back, covering for the feeling of intense heat rising to her cheeks. This was humiliating. She had come begging for your help of all people- you, and now she had nothing to show for it but the stupid, smug look on your stupid, smug face.
“Ha ha,” you said, dryly. “Get out.”
“No.”
“Yes,” you insisted.
"So you're busy then…” she trailed off.
“Yes.”
“Nooo,” she groaned, throwing up her hands in frustration.
You weren't sure what it was, maybe the pout of her lip or the shining of her eyes, but you shut your own for a second and let out a sigh. "Why? What's the favour?"
Tara shook her head in a generally amusing display of defeat. "It's whatever. Have fun on your date," she said, heading for the door and trying to brush past you, but you reached your arm across the doorway, stopping her from going.
"No, what's-" you stopped, rolling your eyes upon realising you were about to help Tara Carpenter of all people- "What's the favour, Tara?" Her face instantly lit up with a bright, beaming smile, the exact opposite of what it had been before, and it suddenly occurred to you she had been playing you like a fiddle.
"Oh my god, you're actually helping for once! Did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed?”
"Don't push it," you muttered. "I don't even know what I'm agreeing to, yet."
"See, about that..." she trailed off.
"What.”
“We have to make Sam really, really mad.”
"What?”
"Yeah..."
You shook your head at her. "Never mind. I'm not helping you anymore."
"What!?"
"You're trying to get me murdered," you said. "I don't have a death wish."
Tara was fully frustrated now, dark eyes fiery and staring up at you in the candle lighting. “You don’t even know what it is you’re doing to make her mad yet!”
“Doesn’t matter, if it’s Sam I don’t want to do it.”
“It would be a big help!” Tara said, clasping her hands in front of her like a prayer. You narrowed your eyes at her, more upset her expression and clear desperation was actually working on you, and that you felt compelled to help this idiot with an undoubtedly idiotic plan.
“What are you trying to do?”
Tara jumped up and down in excitement, smiling widely in a way you had rarely seen her. “Okay! Okay, so Sam said last month that she didn’t want me going to parties and meeting people because she was worried they were murderers.”
“Uh huh,” you said.
“Buuut, she said I could go if I had someone always with me. Like, someone with me that she approved of. So I didn’t wander off to hook up or drink, which is, y’know, the actual fun ‘college party’ stuff.”
“Uh huh.”
“The thing is though, that if I had a ‘partner,’” she raised her fingers to put quotes around it, “then Sam wouldn’t need to worry about me doing that, because she’d assume I’d be with them, hanging out, or even if we did go to a party, it would be together. Buddy system style.”
You raised your eyebrows, realising where this was probably going. “Uh huh?”
“Which is where you’d come in. Sam wouldn’t trust just anybody, if I told her I was seeing someone. But she would trust someone from our group, who she knows for sure isn’t going to murder me. And you- as fucking annoying as you are- are exactly that.” She had a twinkle in her eyes when she explained it to you, and you realised Tara had probably been plotting this- or at least considering it- for a while now, the little devil.
“You really expect Sam to believe we can tolerate each other?” You asked, squeezing your arms tighter against your chest. “She knows how much I hate you, and only person I hate more is her.”
“Trust me, I’ve complained about you to her too,” she rolled her eyes. “But you were literally my only option. Call it a romance of passion. We only ‘hated’ other to cover up for our real feelings or whatever. Sam doesn’t have to like you but she definitely trusts you.”
“How romantic,” you wrinkled your nose, disgusted by the suggestion. “Wait, why am I your only option? Chad is right there, he’s already in love with you and everything. He’s like the built-in boyfriend.”
She winced. “See, I thought about that. But I just know it would probably hurt him, with the hooking up and it not being real. He probably wouldn’t feel too great about me ‘cheating’ on him.” Tara did the finger quotes around it again and you let out a whistle.
“Wow, so you do have a heart.”
She scoffed. “More than you do. Besides, we only need to pretend to be together until I find someone actually tolerable. After that, you’re free again.”
“I had a date tonight,” you narrowed your eyes at her.
“But you’re still here talking to me for some reason?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “And the way you said ‘had’ I’m thinking you don’t anymore.” Tara could be annoyingly perceptive sometimes. She always seemed to zero in on the way you spoke or what you said.
“I wasn’t too excited for it anyways,” you grumbled, and Tara laughed, realising she had been correct and being all too pleased with herself. She clasped her hands together.
“Well then. Are you going to help me, or are you going to glare at me some more?”
“The second one sounds really appealing right now,” you shot back.
“Oh, come on. Don’t be too proud of an asshole to admit this is a great plan.”
“It’s a terrible plan, and it’s absolutely going to fail when Sam tries to murder me.”
“But you didn’t say no.”
You looked at her for a long minute, contemplating if this was really the path you were going to go down. You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “I’ll do it. But you’ll sure as hell owe me.”
“Yeah yeah,” Tara waved you off, beaming from ear to ear. “Great! We’re going on a double date with her and Danny this Friday.”
“What?!” Your mouth dropped open.
“Yep,” she said, annoyingly skipping down your hallway. “I’ll text you the address and time!” she said.
“Now wait a minute-” you called after her, but she had already latched open your door and left, leaving you to watch her go. Fuck, this would end terribly. You sighed again, taking out your phone to cancel your date.
===+++===
This was so unbelievably stupid. The longer you stood outside the Italian restaurant, the more you regretted agreeing to help her.
The restaurant was nice at least, with giant marble stones and dark red accents, and you could see through the massive float glass windows that the lighting mostly featured romantic candles and potted floribunda roses against dark wood. It would ironically be the most expensive date you ever had, and you realised that with bitter sentimentality.
Tara was late, like always, and you had begun to pace along the sidewalk, tracing the cracks with the centre of your shoe while you waited for her. It was boring, out on the street, and the more couples that passed you and walked right inside, the more nauseous you felt. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket, thumbing over the cracked display.
She was ten minutes late. You swiped open your text messages, still seeing nothing from her.
are you here yet???
You sent the message hastily, waiting for the typing icon to pop up or even show that she read it, but nothing. Suddenly the screen lit up and your phone started vibrating it, and you almost dropped it in surprise. “Fuck,” you cussed quietly, seeing the call incoming screen and Little Shit (do not pick up) appear at the top. You frowned, hitting the green button and accepting the call.
“Where the hell are you??? I don’t know if you noticed but we’re late,” you immediately said into the phone, aware of just how annoyed you sounded.
“Relax,” replied Tara on the other end of the line, and you could hear her eye roll from here. “Danny is a late guy too, Sam gets on him all the time for it.”
“Yeah well, I’m standing outside waiting for your late ass.” You felt someone awkwardly push past you and you winced, spinning around to usher them an apology.
“I’ll be there in a minute, I had to pick something up,” she dismissed you. “Just don’t let Sam and Danny see you. I told them we were showing up together.”
“Well how the hell am I supposed to do that?” You frowned, looking around. There was a row of bushes off to the side but you were too tall and not at all willing to crouch behind them like an idiot.
“I don’t know. Figure. It. Out.” Tara spoke slowly like you were a child and you narrowed your eyes.
“Y’know, I’m doing you a favour?”
“Ha!” Tara exclaimed, and you hissed, pulling your ear away from the phone’s speaker at the loud noise. “So you admit, it was a favour!”
“Shut up and get your ass over here," you grumbled before hanging up shortly, looking around and wandering down a side alley. It smelled disgusting back there, in the ironic, almost-dark of sunset, and it would've been a lovely night to take a walk on, had it not been for wasting it on Tara of all people.
You pulled out a box of cigarettes from your pocket, fumbling one out and sticking it between your lips. You stuck the box back in your pocket and pulled out your fancy lighter that had your name engraved on the side, thumbing over the lettering for a moment before lighting the cigarette and sticking it between your two fingers.
It felt stupid, to standing there next to the dumpster and watching some rats scurry by, but you let out a huff of smoke, remembering how much Tara had seemed excited for the parties and having fun. You didn't like her very much, nor could you really claim to be much of a saint, but you weren't a monster either.
"What are you doing??" called a voice from the end of the alley, and you spun to see Tara near the line of bushes with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She had her eyes narrowed at the cigarette, looking frustrated.
"Having a smoke. Why, want one?"
She let out a sigh of exasperation, marching straight up to you. "You can't go on a double date with my sister smelling like cigarette smoke. You know she hates that kind of stuff."
"I've smoked with her, before. Her and Mindy," you argued, pulling it from your lips to take a breath in. "I've literally given her cigarettes."
Tara glared at you, taking it from your hand and crushing it under her heel. "Yeah, well, she still hates you, and now that we're allegedly 'dating' it's different. We can't give her any reason not to trust us, and you smoking cigarettes is going to make her think I'm going to start smoking cigarettes."
You shrugged. "If she hates me so much, then she's never gonna let us 'hang out' alone or go to parties anyway."
"No, she-" Tara rolled her eyes. "She hates you, but she sure as hell trusts you. Enough to babysit me."
"Fine. What's with the flowers?" you asked, crossing your arms.
"You got them for me," Tara shrugged. "Pinnacle of romance."
You whistled to be funny, but it was a little bit impressive that she had planned that out. The plan wasn't especially well thought out, but she at least had her moments of surprising intelligence, which you couldn't begrudge her.
"Well then," she frowned. "Let's go, lover." She clutched the flowers in one hand and slid her arm to interlock with yours. You narrowed your eyes but started to walk her in.
"Don't call me that. It's weird," you muttered.
"Get used to it. Tonight we're the happiest couple on planet Earth."
The restaurant was somehow even nicer on the inside than it had been on the outside. Tara gripped your hand, tugging you along with her as she headed towards Sam and Danny's table and followed the waiter, but you were looking a little dumbfounded at the marble columns and Italian frescos painted to the walls and roof.
You made your way back, led into a giant room with a lot of people. Danny sent you a welcoming wave when they saw you; Sam looked like she was about ready to blow a gasket. She stared at you, eyeing you up and down and then lasering in on the bouquet in Tara's hands with a frown.
"Did you tell her your secret partner was me???" you whispered to Tara as you approached.
She smirked evilly. "Nope."
Fucking amazing. "Hey guys!" Danny said, friendly and open. He seemed just thrilled to be there, while Sam seethed right next to him. Tara smiled right at her sister, gesturing for you to sit next to her.
"Sorry we were late," Tara says, a little awkward but trying to seem comfortable. "We were, um..." she looked at you for help.
You blanked, throwing out the first thing you could think of. "Kissing!"
Sam nearly spit out her water, eyes widening at staring at you. Tara whipped to you, jaw slack and you sent her a sorry glance. Improv was not your thing by any means.
"Um," Danny blinked at you. "No worries. You're here now," he said with an awkward smile. His hand went to Sam's, trying to give it a comforting squeeze, but she looked like she wanted to jump over the table and then jump you. She was glowering.
"So," she said, eyes narrowed. "How long has 'this,'" she gestured between you and Tara, "been a thing?" She looked at you intensely, and you looked to Tara, trying to shrug it off. You both laughed, playing the part of the happy couple.
"Oh, a month," you said.
"Two months," Tara said, at the exact same time. Fuck.
You tried not to glare at each other. "Well, which is it?" Sam squinted at her sister, and Tara sent a kick at your leg under the table. Your knee hit the bottom of the table with a painful 'thud,' and it took everything in you to not yell out in pain from your knee cap hitting the wood.
You tried to smile it off. "Tara just said two months, because we went on a few study dates, but it wasn't official until a month ago."
"So two months then," Sam said, crossing her arms on the table.
"I get it," Danny said, nodding. "I'm bad at dates and stuff too," he laughed a bit. "I almost forgot how long Sam and I had been together after our four month anniversary." You nodded, sending him your best grin. Sam didn’t look too happy about that either, though.
"Yeah, long day, I guess." Tara said next to you, sending you her best smile, her hand coming up to rub your back. It was weird, having her this close, but you put on your best face, as if she touched you all the time.
"You go to Blackmore too, right?" he asked, and you nodded. "What do you study?"
"I'm in architecture," you replied. Finally, something you could talk about without feeling like you were crossing a minefield. From the corner of your eye, you could still see Sam staring you down with suspicion.
"Oh! That's awesome!" Danny replied, taking a sip of wine from his glass. "I love architecture, it's interesting."
"Mhm," you nodded, looking over at Tara and smirking with just a hint of malicious glee. "I tease her- my degree is actually useful. People don't really like film majors. They usually smell bad."
"Do they?" he asked, genuinely curious, and you turned back, nodding.
"Yeah, it's an unfortunately common stereotype. Film majors are annoying, smelly-," your words were cut off, feeling Tara's nail dig into your back for revenge and trying to stifle a wince. She gave the table a fake giggle.
"Okay, that's enough out of you," she said, and you grinned, cursing her out in your head.
"Why didn't you tell me it was (Y/n), Tara?" Sam asked, leaning forwards and studying you both. She seemed a bit miffed with the whole situation. You sent each other fake smiles, as if you were about to share a secret.
"Well," she said, trying to seem excited. "We just didn't want anyone ruining it, really. It was kind of a secret, and we didn't know what it would turn into. But it's just...it's been so fucking magic."
"Magic. Mhm," you hummed in agreement, looking off into the distance and pulling out the menu. You were just a bit too hungry to keep up with the game for the moment. Seriously? she shot you a glare, and you snapped to attention. "It is genuinely one of the happiest times of my life," you rushed, quickly smiling and then dropping your attention back down to the menu to look at some pasta.
“Does Chad know?” Sam asked, sitting back and staring at you both. Tara shook her head.
“Not yet. I don’t want to hurt him, but really, (Y/n)’s the one for me.” This was also a little bit impressive. Tara seemed to be a far better actor than you were, and Sam just nodded, suspicious but trusting her sister’s words.
===+++===
The moment you walked down the block and out of Sam and Danny's eyesight, your hand dropped from Tara's. The sun was just about setting in the distance, and city traffic was starting to slow down a little.
"Oh. My. God. Her face!" Tara said, laughing. She keeled over, and you smiled a little, remembering Sam's look of disgust, but quiet monitoring of your hand clutching onto Tara's. She looked like a very conservative nun, witnessing a sin being performed in real time. It was a little funny, you had to admit, not that you'd ever be caught laughing along with her.
"Danny seems nice," you said, after you walked a little farther.
Tara nodded. "He's surprisingly not a douchebag. I thought he would be, like you or something, but he's not that bad for Sam."
You scoffed. "I'm not a douchebag."
"You definitely are," Tara said, shaking her head. "One month because it wasn't official? You said we were going on dates before then. That's definitely douchebag behaviour. Sam probably thought that meant you were seeing other people."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh," Tara said, rolling her eyes. "And 'kissing'??? Literally anything would've been better."
"I'm trying to help you, it's either this or nothing," you huffed in annoyance. "I'm not an on-the-spot person."
"Clearly," Tara said, shaking her head in overdramatic emphasis. She stopped suddenly and you jerked backwards, seeing her mess with her shoes.
"You good?" you asked, shoving your hands into your pockets.
"These damn shoes- making me walk home- god dammit," she grumbled, messing with the straps and the buckle on the side. You waited patiently, leaning against a stone wall as you waited for her to finish.
The sky above you had turned a deep purple, small hues of orange and pink in the form of clouds sitting at the edges. It was really something, and you stopped to watch it, whistling. Tara jerked upwards, planting her foot down to stomp her shoe into place.
"What is it?" she asked.
"The sky," you said, and she craned her neck up to watch it with you. "It's just really beautiful tonight."
She hummed for a moment before looking back to you. "It's a shame I'm spending it with you, of all people," Tara snorted. "I'm sure this would be romantic to any other couple."
"It would probably really be something," you said absentmindedly, looking up in thought. "A real waste on you and me though."
"Glad we agree," she said, leading the way. You and her had taken a separate path from Danny and Sam under the guise of getting some ice cream, but neither of you were willing to pay for it. Instead, you had to figure out what you would do with ten extra minutes.
"Do you want to cross?" you asked, gesturing to the other street, she nodded and you walked up, pressing the button. When you turned back to her, her nose was wrinkled.
"What?"
She shrugged. "Nothing. You just hit the button weird."
"What?" you blinked at her. "How can someone 'hit the button weird'?"
"I don't know, but you, like, pushed it weird. With your fingers."
You rolled your eyes. "Do you have a problem with everything I do?"
“Yep,” she nodded back. “It’s annoying.”
You guys kept walking in silence for the next block or two, making a square so that you could return to Sam and Tara’s apartment together. The sun had disappeared now and faded into night, and when you turned the corner to split off, she tugged on your arm.
“Hey wait, you have to walk me home.”
“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her.
Tara shrugged. “You have to, to make Sam think we’re dating.”
You blinked at her. “But we live on opposite sides of the city.”
“Still.”
“Tara if I walk you home I’ll miss the last train,” you grumbled. “That’s a long ass walk.”
“Cmon, we have to or she won’t believe it.”
You frowned. “You’re paying for my cab then.”
She sighed. “Fine, but come on.”
She tugged you down the long strip by the hand, stopping suddenly, a block from her apartment. “Here wait,” she said, turning to you. “Give me your jacket.”
“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Oh just do it, do you have to argue about everything?”
You took it off with a glare, handing it to Tara. She tried to slide it on but it was massive on her, so she bunched up the sleeves. With the flowers in her hand and your jacket, it definitely looked like you two had gone on a date.
She grabbed your hand again, pulling you forwards along the street and smiling brightly in case anyone looked out the window and saw you both. It felt a bit odd to be playing dress up, but it was helping someone out, so you didn’t begrudge her on getting you to smile either.
“Wait wait wait,” Tara said, stopping abruptly.
You groaned. “Now what.”
She pulled you to the side, near a row of shrubs that sat next to the red brick of her apartment building. “Sam’s watching us through the window.”
You turned your head, trying to see for yourself, and there she was, hanging right out the window and watching you with intense suspicion.
"Don't look at her!" Tara snapped at you, whispering with a glare. You rolled your eyes.
"What do you want me to do then, Tara?"
She frowned, biting her lip while she thought. She gave you a grimace. "We need to do, like, a goodnight kiss or something."
You glared at the suggestion. "I think I'd rather die."
"Trust me, I don't want to either," she said, glowering right back at you. "But if we do this now, we won't have to ever again."
You thought for a moment. She'd probably taste disgusting anyways, and then it would just confirm what you already knew- you hated Tara Carpenter. "Fine. Just convincing enough though."
"Okay," she nodded. When neither of you made a move to close the distance, she frowned. "Do like, a countdown or something?"
"A fucking countdown," you repeated. "We're not five."
"Just do it!" she demanded, glaring again.
"Okay, fine, Jesus Christ. Three...," your face moved a bit closer to hers. "Two," you muttered quietly, still leaning in. "One," you said, and then Tara pushed her face onto yours.
It was a chaste kiss, probably sprouting from the fact that neither of you especially wanted to do it. Her lips were softer than you expected them to be and her breath nowhere as near as it would be in your head. You pulled away quickly, and there she was, smiling up at you in the fake way she had been at the restaurant.
"Party next Friday?" she asked. "Now that Sam thinks we're together she won't care if I go. Just pick me up and we can go 'together.' Plus there's a cute kid from my film class who said she would be there."
You nodded. "Whatever."
"Great," she said with similar shortness, and she brushed right past you, heading into her building. You watched her walk off, making sure she got in the door safe. Sam was still looking at you from overhead, even when Tara had gone, and you could see Quinn standing behind her, looking with morbid curiosity.
It had never even crossed your mind to kiss Tara, just because of how annoying her personality was, and you would have rather died than admit it had been nice- that she had been nice for a night. Instead you turned around, walking off. You were sure Sam was still watching you, as you went.
===+++===
part two??? it shouldn't be too long before the next one, i had to split this up because it was getting insanely long and there's another half to the story. i didn't want this one to be like 8k words long, i'll just probably have another one that's 4-5k soon.
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#jenna ortega#scream#jenna ortega imagine#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter x you
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