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spicyteez · 5 years ago

Text

Deal II

Smut

Gang boss San x Fem Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Part I

Warnings: thigh riding, some nipple play, a little bit of spanking, Dom San whoof. But also Subby San too, riding, marking, cockwarming, unprotected sex (pls don’t do that), a fight, mentions of blood

A/N: Part 2 yay! I loved writing both of these and I hope you enjoy them. I hope this fits with the story and is cohesive with the San in the last one. This one is a little soft because I was in such a soft mood all week and this was the result :)

Sanie 💕: Babeee. Come over.

Your phone dinged once again and you quickly flipped it over, hiding the message that popped up for the world to see.

Sanie 💕: I wanna fuck you.

The last time he had texted you such things, one of your employees had read it before you could stop them. That had been a disaster. Discussing your sex life with an employee was not your definition of a good time.

Once you had begun officially dating San, you learned things about him that surprised you. Like how whiny he got when he was feeling needy.

You: I can’t, I have a delivery coming tonight.

Noticing a customer approaching the register, you put your phone down and busied yourself with taking their order. It really had been a long time since you had seen him and you really missed him. With no end to your busy schedule in sight, you were beginning to become touch starved. You hadn’t seen San in over two weeks and work was killing you. Checking your phone once again, you noticed there was no response and moved on with your work, hoping that he wasn’t too unhappy.

Night fell and you waited for the delivery man to come. What type of a company delivers at nine pm on a Saturday? Once you had signed for the goods and they were all stashed away, you were finally able to return home for the night. Shrugging off your long coat, you threw it to the side and plopped down in front of the TV. A knock on the door distracted you from your show and you stood up to give whoever it was a piece of your mind.

“You better have a good reason for knocking on my door at ten-” You trailed off when you noticed it wasn’t a stranger, but your boyfriend staring at you with his eyebrows raised and a smirk on his lips.

“Oh? And what are you going to do? Spank me?” Your face grew red and he chuckled at the effect he had on you.

Standing back so he could come in, you sucked in a breath when his hands came to rest on your hips. Pushing you slowly, he backed you against the wall and pressed himself against you. His lips were on yours in an instant, tenderly applying enough pressure to drive you insane. Pulling away, he inhaled sharply and rested his hand on the wall above your head. “I’ve missed you.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you pressed your head to his chest and breathed in his familiar scent. “I missed you too.” You stood like that for a moment, listening to his steady heartbeat and enjoying the feeling of his arms around you.

You pulled back to lace your fingers with his. “What do you want to do?” Grinning up at him, you giggled at his adorable eye smile. Your boyfriend was the cutest. Even if he was a gang boss.

“Whatever you want. I want to see what you normally do on a Saturday night.”

Leading him to the couch, you made sure he was comfortable before resuming your program. You laughed along to the humorous lines, missing the look of adoration he gave you. After months of meeting exclusively at his place, it felt so strange to have him sitting on your couch in your tiny apartment. The gap between the luxurious suite he lived in and here had you worried he would think your home was pitiful. Looking over at him, you noticed he looked relaxed and at ease. Some of your worry faded away and you chided yourself for thinking that way.

Hours later you were spread across the couch, your legs in his lap, both staring at the screen intently. The final scene of The Notebook played out, bringing tears to your eyes. How many times had you watched this film and still felt your heart wrench at the ending? A few too many to count. Once the credits began their ascent up the frame, you felt San’s eyes on you.

“Babe,” He chuckled lowly, pulling you fully into his lap. “Don’t cry. It’s just a movie.”

Burying your face in his neck, you breathed in his scent and tried to stop your sniffling. “But it’s so sad!” You wailed. Wrapping your arms around him, you felt his chest rumble with his laughter. Rocking you gently, he rubbed soothing circles into your back until you felt your emotions were under control.

“It’s three in the morning. I think it’s time you get to bed.” Patting your head, he waited for you to stand up before he stretched and stood up himself. You noticed him gathering his things and decided that maybe you’d like to wake up in his arms tomorrow rather than your empty bed.

Reaching for his hand, you got his attention. “Sannie. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but maybe…” Looking at his shoes, you felt your face heat up. Why was it so hard to ask him? He’d done the filthiest of things with you, but asking him to stay the night was terrifying. “Do you want to stay the night?”

His hand came to your face, gently holding your chin and raising your head up to look at him. “Of course baby.” He gave you a quick kiss and allowed you to lead him to your bed. Digging through your drawers, you found a tshirt and some sweats that you thought would fit him and let him go change into them. When he walked into the room, he paused when he saw your choice of sleep wear, a flowy camisole with a pair of short shorts. You definitely knew what you were doing when you chose the outfit, knowing that the delicate fabric against your skin would drive him wild. He had texted you earlier to let you know he was needy, and heck, maybe you were feeling a little needy as well. Standing innocently, you felt heat rush to your core as his eyes slowly raked over every inch of your body. Moving forward slowly yet confidently, he met your eyes and you saw pure lust swimming in the dark orbs. You felt excited yet shaky, stepping back until your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto the plush mattress. In a second he was on you, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath his toned body. Dragging his teeth across your jaw, he trailed to your neck and nipped at the skin. Letting out a whine at the feeling, your mind clouded and you tilted your head to give him better access. His breath, sweet and hot, mixed with his intoxicating presence had your head swimming and your pussy dripping. Biting down harder, his fingertips flitted over your exposed collarbones and chest, the warmth of his hands making you shiver. Removing his teeth, he soothed the newly formed mark with his tongue, lapping at the hot flesh and sucking on it slightly.

“Do you want this baby?” His voice had sunk an octave, his desire obvious.

Lost in the feeling of his lips on your skin, you choked out a reply. “Oh yes San.”

A harsh bite to your neck had you gasping for breath. “It’s Sir to you, sweetheart.”

Your heart sped up in anticipation, every nerve crackling with excitement. His dominant side had taken over, his desire to control you overriding all other thoughts in his head. When he got like this, you couldn’t help but think he was unbelievably sexy.

Pulling away, he sent you a harsh look when you whined at his absence. Tugging your shorts down, he tossed them to the side and noticed the damp soaking through your panties. His breath hitched and he struggled to maintain his composure as he stood and untied the sweatpants resting on his hips.

“Did that turn you on that much?” Wonder laced his voice and he cursed under his breath. “Holy fuck." Nodding your head, you bit your lip as you gazed into his awestruck eyes. Tugging down his sweatpants along with his boxers, he pulled off his shirt as well and stood completely bare before you. No matter how many times he undressed, you could never get used to it. His body, toned and lean, always had your mind imagining sinful things. Not to mention his cock, which was fully erect and in need of attention.

Noticing the way you stared at his exposed thighs, he walked to the head of the bed and sat up straight against the headboard. “Come here.” Patting his thighs, he waited for you to crawl onto his lap. His fingers hooked in your panties, pulling the garment off your body. Instead of grinding you down onto him like he would usually do, you found him guiding you to straddle his left thigh. He pressed down on your hips, forcing your slick folds to make contact with his leg. Mewling at the pressure on your clit, your hands latched onto his shoulders to ground yourself. “That’s it baby. I want you to get off on my thigh.” Everything about the way he cooed the words, falling from his lips with his familiar charm felt so sinful, yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Pre-cum clung to his thigh, aiding your movements against his flexing muscle. You were practically dripping at this point, pussy gushing as the angle of your hips stimulated your clit with each pass. Loud wet noises filled the room and San groaned quietly, his dick twitching with each recurrence of the filthy sound.

Speeding up your motions, you gripped his shoulders tightly, feeling your release rushing closer. San noticed the way your breath hitched and your hips frantically ground against his thigh and he knew you were close to your finish. Gripping your hips harshly, he slowed your pace, effectively cutting off your anticipation. “Sir.” Whining in frustration, you gazed at him doe eyed, begging him to let you cum. He felt a surge of pride at your outburst, to have someone as gorgeous as you at his mercy made him feel so powerful.

Fingers digging into your hips, he set a torturously slow pace, sensually dragging your hips as he flexed his thigh. Leaning in to your embrace, he kissed your neck softly, trailing his tongue to your ear and biting down on the appendage gently. “Patience kitten. I want to feel every millimeter of your pretty pussy.” A shiver ran down your spine from his proximity and the lewd words he had whispered into your skin. You involuntarily clenched around thin air, his deep tone affecting you more than you’d like to admit. Leaning back, his nimble fingers slipped beneath your camisole, sliding up to your breasts to fondle the sensitive flesh. Taking your nipple between his fingers, he pinched down hard, drawing a ragged moan from your lips. He continued to play with your breasts, abusing your tender chest and undoubtedly leaving bruises from his harsh squeezes. Abandoning your chest, he gripped your hips once again, slightly speeding up the speed of your movements. He kept you there for what felt like forever, dragging your abused pussy against him slowly, feeling your soft lips slide against his thigh steadily.

The fire in your stomach ignited again, your moans growing more frequent and higher pitched as you got closer and closer. Swiping his fingers through your dripping wetness, San pressed his fingers to your clit firmly and rubbed slow circles onto the engorged nub. Fingernails digging into his shoulders, you barely registered his hiss at the pain through your pleasure induced haze. The world seemed to fall away, all input leaving your head besides his fingers running over you repeatedly and the knott about to snap in your stomach.

“That’s it baby. Cum all over my thigh like the dirty girl you are.” With one last movement of your hips and circle on your clit, you fell over the edge, throwing your head back in a silent scream. Your hips continued to move under his hold, riding out the mind numbing orgasm until you felt the sting of over sensitivity buzz in your spent slit. Mind clearing, you heard San whispering praises to you, caressing your hips gently while telling you how good you were for him.

Breaking his rules, you reached forward to touch him, pressing your palms against his chest while you connected your lips to his own soft pair. Pulling back a bit, you ran your fingers through his two toned hair and brushed a stray strand away from his face. “I love you.” Bursting with love for him, you felt your heart leap out of your chest as you stared at his handsome features. The dark look in his eyes calmed to something loving and tender, his hands cupping your face and bringing your lips together again for a slow, passionate kiss. You pulled away slowly, your heart about to burst from the butterflies floating in your stomach.

Intertwining his fingers with yours, he laid down on the bed and pulled you to straddle his hips. Touching his angry red cock, he let out a groan while he spread his dripping pre-cum around his length. Lifting up your hips, you allowed him to insert his dick into your numb core, clenching around him purposely to draw out a strangled groan. Tugging on your shoulders, he pulled you down to lay on his chest and connect your lips to his. Rocking your hips on his dick slowly, you allowed his tongue to slip into your mouth and explore your warm cavity. You pressed against his lips harder, battling for dominance. Slowing down your hips to a crawl, you moved at a snail's pace, driving him mad at the taste of his own medicine. Pulling back from your lips harsly, gone was the loving gaze in his eye. His hand came down hard on your ass, repeating his actions and grabbing your cheeks with both hands. Thrusting his hips up into your warmth, he continued at a bruising pace, growling at your disobedience. “Remember who’s in charge here.”

You felt small under his intense gaze, whimpering at the intense pleasure in your sensitive cunt. Nearing your second orgasm, you felt him twitch deep within you, an indicator of how close he was as well. “Yes, yes, yes.” You choked out, tears forming in your eyes at the pain infused pleasure.

“Mmm.” Humming in satisfaction, he slammed into you with renewed vigor. The tip of his cock brushed your sweet spot repeatedly, crude curses falling from your lips with the overwhelming sensation. “Look at you princess. So beautiful, so fucked out. And all mine.” He all but growled the last word, deep and animalistic. It threw you over the edge, his possessiveness causing you to clench around him tightly until you felt his hot cum paint your walls. Heavy pants filled the room as he rocked you against him slowly, milking out the remainder of your highs. Once you had both come down, he pulled out and watched as your combined releases dripped out of your spent hole. Squeaking, you felt his fingers push the fluid back into you, dragging against your walls as he pulled out and sucked the digits clean.

Rolling off of his solid chest, you cuddled into his side. “And I’m all yours.” You whispered back, pecking his swollen lips. Pulling you so your back rested against his chest, you both laughed when you noticed the clock nearing the four o’clock hour. So much for sleeping.

As your eyelids began to droop, you heard him whisper into the quiet room. “I love you so much. No one else has ever made me feel so alive.” His lips trailed over your neck, pressing adoring kisses to your pulse point. Closing your eyes, you gave into the comfortable feeling and allowed sleep to pull you into its depths.

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Sunlight streamed through the window when you opened your eyes. Shifting around, you made yourself comfortable and heard a high pitched whine from behind you. Halting your movements, you felt something hard poking your thigh. How was he still hard after your lengthy roll between the sheets last night? Gently grinding against his length, you felt his hands grip your hips as a warning. Rolling over to face him, you caressed his face gently, appreciating his sleepy morning state. Nuzzling into your hand slightly, San closed his eyes and began to fall asleep again. Your fingers traced his skin, trailing down his neck and running down his chest and abdomen to rest at the base of his cock. Grasping the shaft lightly, you pumped him in your hand slowly. His head lolled against your shoulder, soft whines falling from his parted lips as he gave in to the mounting pleasure. Gone was your intensely dominant boyfriend, replaced with a soft boy needy for your touch. The cute sounds he was making spurred you on, pumping him harder in order to hear more of his beautiful moans.

Pulling your hand away, San whined at the loss of contact and pouted at you. Your heart fluttered at his adorable unhappiness. Pushing him up, you guided him to sit against the headboard like he had done the night before. Too tired to put up a fight, he complied and watched with hooded eyes as you climbed onto his lap. "Let me take care of you baby." The pretty noises he had been making already had you wet and you needed no further preparations as you slid down onto his stiff cock. Letting out a shaky breath, he leaned his head back against the headboard while you began to lazily rock your core around his length. Kissing down his neck, you found his sweet spot and sucked on the skin gently. He pulled away and shook his head at you, indicating that he was opposed to you leaving any marks. It was your turn to pull out the puppy dog eyes, watching the resolve in his eyes fade away. "Please Sanie, just one? I want everyone to know you belong to me. Just like I belong to you." You clenched around him gently, heightening his pleasure as you waited for him to respond.

With a groan, he gave in, nodding his head and tilting his jaw to give you better access. He was so vulnerable, so sensitive, and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel good. Sinking your teeth into his neck, you whined against his skin when he bucked his hips up into you at the feeling. Alternating between nibbling and sucking, a purple bruise began to blossom on his soft complexion. When you were satisfied with the mark, you brushed your lips across it, soothing the hot skin. Pulling back, you smiled at your work. "Look baby. Now we match." Tilting your head, you showed him the deep purple bite he had nibbled into your skin in the same place the night before.

"Mmmm. Perfect." He hummed, pulling you close to rest against your forehead. Gently taking your hand, he pressed it to his chest, right above his racing heart. A surge of pride raced through you, knowing it was you who got him so worked up was the ultimate compliment.

Shifting slightly, you sped up the pace of your hips, feeling his dick twitch deep within you. When you both reached your climax, he pressed his lips to yours in a slow kiss, muffling your combined moans. Halting your movements, you broke away from his lips and left a tender kiss on his jaw. "That was amazing, baby." He thanked you shyly, a blush dusting his cheeks.

Lifting your hips from his, you sucked in a breath at the sudden empty feeling. He pulled you down to lay beside him, all but smothering you with the intense way he clung to you. Chuckling at the way his eyelids were already fluttering, you traced patterns along the tattoos on his arms as he held you close. The warmth of his body pressed against yours permeated your being and you soon felt your eyes closing as well, giving in to sleep for the second time.

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Two weeks later you found yourself in the passenger seat of a Mercedes Benz, scanning your surroundings in awe. You knew San was rich, but you didn’t know he was this rich. Squirming uncomfortably in your seat, you were fearful of leaving even a fingerprint on the sleek leather dash. His hand pressed down on your thigh, squeezing your leg reassuringly. Smiling at you, he noticed the uncertainty in your eyes.

“Don’t worry y/n, everything will be fine.” Although his sweet words made you feel calm, you couldn’t help but continue to feel a spark of worry in your gut. Contrary to his words you knew that everything was not fine. You were on your way to a fancy party, one which all of San’s friends and business partners would be in attendance. San’s god father, his late father’s best friend had organized the party and he wouldn’t miss it for the world. He had been a big part of San’s life and you were excited to meet the man who influenced your boyfriend so much. From the way he talked about this man, you could tell he had a huge soft spot for the gentleman who practically raised him since his father had passed. On the other hand, however, you were terrified of meeting him. Your father had been involved with him briefly, long enough for the man to learn of how your dad’s greed for money was greater than the worth of any of his friendships. If he knew who your father was, what would he think of you?

The three hour drive passed in almost silence, San knew you were scared and didn’t want to worry you any more. When you pulled up to the luxurious hotel hosting the party, your jaw dropped. "Like what you see? My friend Yunho owns the place." He helped you out of the car, chucking at how you continued to stare at the building.

"Holy shit, San. You never fail to surprise me."

A quick team of bellhops converged on the vehicle, carrying your luggage off to the right room. You had arrived just in time to get ready for the party and you were stressed. Everything had to be perfect, from your dress to your makeup nothing could be out of place. When San helped you zip up your dress, his fingers brushing your exposed back, he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder once the action was complete.

"You look gorgeous. Stay by my side tonight and everything will be fine." Turning to face him, you noticed the look of concern on his face. Your heart warmed at his sweetness and you grasped his hands like a lifeline. "What if I mess up and look stupid? Wouldn't you rather stay here and test out the bed?" You asked the question partially because you wanted to waste time but also because he looked extra delicious in his crisp tuxedo and you thought that it would look just as good on the floor.

Tilting your chin up gently, he forced you to make eye contact. "Oh hush. You'll be perfect. And besides," A playful smirk crossed his lips, "When we get back we'll have the whole night to ourselves. Maybe I'll even let you top me this time. I can't get over how hot you look when you're in control."

Swatting at his chest, you failed to hide your blush when his contagious laughter filled the room.

Soon it was time for the party to start and for you to face your fears. Clinging to San, you made the rounds, greeting everyone who he knew, which felt like practically every person in the room. The party was just what you had expected, boujee attendees dressed to the nines, sipping champagne and talking business. What business did gangs do anyways? Although the party was stereotypical, what you didn't expect was to see a tall young man breaking it down to classical music in the middle of the ball room. He seemed to be a natural entertainer, his antics feeding off of the energy of his circle of friends. You felt yourself being pulled in his direction, and you followed San's guidance, the man somehow looking even taller up close. When you were close enough to observe him, you noticed just how puppy-like he was. A huge grin filled his whole face and he practically radiated happiness.

"Y/n, this is Yunho." San introduced you to the boisterous young man and you were once again surprised. Yunho didn't look like a millionaire, but looks could be deceiving. Pulling you into a conversation, Yunho never dropped the bright grin on his face and you felt yourself relaxing in his presence. You were so caught up in the conversation, you almost didn’t notice Mingi standing quietly in the corner of your vision. Excusing yourself, you moved to say hello, feeling like it had been way too long since you had last seen him. Over the course of your deal with San, you had grown closer to Mingi, conversing with him as he drove you to your ‘dick appointments,’ as he called them. As you talked with him, the worry you had felt for the past few days melted away and you finally felt calm. However, you couldn’t help but feel a race of nerves when San took your hand and gently pulled you away. It was time for him to greet the host and you were terrified.

He guided you across the room until you stood before a middle aged man in a very expensive suit. Dropping your hand, San wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“Ah San. It’s so good to see you again.” The man pulled him into a hug, temporarily breaking his hold on you.

“It’s good to see you too, Uncle Kim. The party is amazing.” San beamed at the man, clearly excited to see him. Pulling away, he returned his hand to your waist and rubbed comforting circles onto your side.

Your heart jumped when the man turned his attention to you, observing you silently. Shifting under his scrutiny, you realized you were shaking in San’s hold. “You must be y/n.”

Choking out a ‘yes’, you reached out a hand to shake his outstretched one.

“From what I’ve heard from San, you’re quite a lovely lady.” He smiled at you, bright and full of warmth. It would seem as if there was nothing to worry about at all. Grinning at you fondly, San pressed a quick kiss to your temple, promising to return for a full conversation with his godfather before pulling you away.

When you were on the other side of the room, he stopped and took your hand in his. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” His eyes shone with pride and your heart swelled.

Shaking your head, you chuckled quietly. “Okay. Maybe you’re right.” Placing your hand behind his neck, you connected your lips in a sweet kiss. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled you close, deepening the kiss in a way that was almost too scandalous for the public eye. A yell broke you apart, drawing your attention to the man approaching you quickly.

“If it isn’t Mr. Choi San.” Turning around, San froze when he saw the speaker. You could sense the change in his body language, his shoulders tensing and his jaw clenching.

“Gabe.” Clutching your hand tighter, he pulled you behind him. So this was the infamous Gabe, San’s rival gang leader and enemy. His muscles were shaking, pure rage flowing through his entire being. The two stood in silence for a moment, daring the other to make the first move. Shifting to the side slightly, Gabe caught a glance at your hand wrapped in San’s.

A sickening grin split across his face and he raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Who’s this? Your new little whore? I wonder what’s lower, her IQ or the time it takes her to suck you off.”

In a second San’s fist connected with his face, catching him off guard and causing him to topple over. Jumping on top of him, San continued his attack, dodging most of the punches thrown by his retaliating opponent. Gabe was able to land a punch to San’s face, sending him reeling back before continuing the fight. Spitting out blood, San’s eyes shone with hatred. “Don’t you fucking talk about her like that! She’s so much more of a person than you’ll ever be!”

You winced in horror as Gabe landed a strong punch to San’s ribs which was sure to leave a bruise. San retaliated by striking his eye, creating a large welt on his handsome face. Before the two could continue, a man yanked the pair apart, pulling Gabe to his feet and standing between the two. Grimacing in pain, San wiped the blood from his split lip and glared daggers at his opponent. People had started to take notice and were staring wide-eyed at the commotion. Taking your hand again, he murmured something to the growing crowd and pulled you away to the privacy of your hotel room.

Once the door swung close, you watched San’s back as he let out a heavy breath. Collecting your thoughts, you didn’t know how to feel about the scene that had just played out. You knew he could be aggressive but you had never seen him like this before. Although you were disappointed, you couldn’t help but feel a little… proud.

"San." You whispered, waiting for him to turn around. When he faced you, you took in his ragged appearance and felt your heart ache at the sight. Moving forward, you wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, apologizing when he winced at the pressure on his bruised ribs.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you as well, letting out a sigh. "I'm so sorry y/n. I don't know what came over me, I just couldn't listen to him say those things about you. I just… I'm sorry." Burying his head in your neck, overwhelming shame filled his heart. Taking his head in your hands, you pulled back to look at him.

“Oh baby. No one has ever stood up for me like that.” He tilted his head up in confusion, looking at you curiously.

“No one?” You shook your head no and he frowned. “You’re the most caring, beautiful, wonderful woman I know. Everyone should stand up for you.” Smiling softly, you pressed a kiss to his pouting lips.

“Let’s get you in the tub. It’ll help your sore muscles.” Leading him to the bathroom, you started the water and threw in whatever fancy bubble bath the hotel had available. Helping San out of his clothes, you carefully unbuttoned his shirt and slid it down his broad shoulders. Unclasping his belt, you helped him out of his pants and into the tub. You opened the door to leave but San’s hand on your wrist pulled you back into the room.

“Please join me.” He looked at you pleadingly, biting his lip as he waited for a response. Nodding your head, you slid the zipper to your lavish gown down your back. Stepping out of the dress, you set it on a chair, not wanting to ruin the gorgeous fabric. Next came your bra and panties, hitting the floor as San eyed you with awe. Placing his hands on your waist, he guided you to straddle his hips, sloshing around in the warm water until you were comfortable. Sitting back on your heels, you realized just how bad he had fared. A large cut began at his eyebrow, trailing down his face about an inch. Bruises littered his face and you could see a large one forming on his ribs and collarbone. You grabbed a washcloth and lathered it with soap, preparing to clean his wounds while San twisted your hair into a loose bun atop your head. A quiet hiss escaped his split lips when you rubbed at the scrape on his temple. His fingers tangled in yours, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, frowning when your hand came away red from his bloody lip. Finally you finished up, cupping his jaw and gently dabbing at his lower lip, his eyes never leaving your face. Once the wound had been cleaned, you discarded the washcloth and pecked his lip gently, almost as if you were kissing it better.

Silence filled the room, the pair of you taking in all that had happened that day. Brushing a strand of hair he had missed behind your ear, he smiled softly. “This feels familiar, doesn’t it? Do you remember that night?”

“Of course I do. It was the best night of my life.” Rubbing his fingers over your knuckles, his lips pressed to the back of your hand once again.

You remembered that night vividly although it had taken place months ago. It was the night he confessed his feelings for you and he made love to you so passionately. His scars from that time had faded away, but you could still find them if you looked hard enough. It seemed that you were always in this position, finding him beaten and bruised. He told you that he had enemies, but you hadn’t realized just how many there were.

Telling you to lift your hips, he noticed your confused expression. “I want to be closer to you.” You followed his instructions, shifting on your knees to lift up your hips higher. When you felt his cock press against your lower lips, you knew what he wanted. Sinking down on his thick length, you sighed in satisfaction. Moments of intimacy like this were rare, but you absolutely adored them. He felt warm inside of you and a cozy sensation spread through your being. You felt so full, almost as if a missing piece of you had been returned, like he was made to fit there. Bringing you closer, he slowly brought you to rest on his chest, careful to not agitate his injuries. Rubbing your back soothingly, he held you close and basked in your presence.

It wasn’t everyday that a man was willing to beat someone for you and you found San standing up for you to be extremely touching. Although this trip hadn’t gone as planned, you knew that it would be alright. As long as you were together everything would be okay.

#i hope it's not lame #please tell me if it's lame and i will honestly rewrite the whole thing lmao #san #san smut #ateez smut #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #san imagine #san imagines #deal #k writes #ateez gang au #san gang au

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onmymyway · 5 years ago

Text

Late Night Dinner

Ateez | Jeong Yunho x Reader | Suggestive/Smut/NSFW/Fluff | Fic | 1800+ Words

You stood in front of the wall length mirror in your bathroom, admiring your figure. Admittedly, you had been eating well and excising a lot more recently for this occasion. Your boyfriend, Yunho means so much to you and visa versa, so when you two had talked about past relationships and how you had moved too fast before, you each wanted to plan this out and make it as meaningful as you could.

Which is exactly why you just spent a solid half hour in the shower, shaving, exfoliating and shaving again, making sure you looked as good as you felt.

You decided to dry your hair and let it fall into its natural waves, while you kept your face bare. Yunho had always been the sweetest boyfriend when it came to your self esteem, you always used to be insecure about your faded acne scars, sleep deprived bags and your easily reddened cheeks, but Yunho has managed to reform your own thoughts about yourself.

As Yunho fell in love with you, you fell in love with yourself and you couldn’t be more excited to show him how grateful you were to him tonight.

You pulled on a simple pair of black panties and bra that seemed to look like they were a size too small, but were just designed to show a little extra cheeks and cleavage. Over the top, you slip on a simple, short, robe in your favourite colour before stepping out of the bathroom, satisfied.

While waiting for Yunho to walk through your front door, you order from his favourite fast food restaurant and schedule it to arrive in and hour and a half.

Plenty of time, right? You ask yourself before confirming the order.

You hear the jingling of keys in the front door knob and jump on your feet to run to him from your bedroom.

Wait, you stop, should I wait here and... pose? You wince at your inner monologue and decide on acting as if you normally would. You bolt to the front door of your home and before Yunho has the chance to see your outfit, you engulf him in a hug, your legs wrapping around his waist as he catches you.

You bury your face into his neck and start pecking all up along his neck until you come face to face with him, “Hi.”

“Hi Y/N,” he takes the chance to look down at your outfit as best as he can, “Wow, you look absolutely stunning.” He says in genuine awe.

You grin at him, watching as his gaze falls down the front of your robe to watch the rapid rise and fall of your chest, “Good, I was shooting for stunning.”

“You nailed it.” He giggles at his word choice, fully excited for the preconceived events of the night.

You giggle with him and lean down to kiss him, gently taking his bottom lip between your own to suck into your mouth. He groan and you suddenly feel the bobbing of your two bodies as he carries you to your bedroom. You grin, letting go of his lip and continue kissing him on his neck and ears before falling from his neck onto your bed.

You giggle and pull him back down into you, his hips pressing in between your legs. He moans against your mouth while his hands softly brush over your chest and move further down to pull on the string keeping your robe together. Once loosened, he pulls the robe off your arms and leans back to look at you.

“You are so beautiful Y/N...” he mumbles before leaning down to place soft, teasing kisses down your abdomen.

“Mmm, wait Yunho.” you stop him before he reaches your underwear. He jumps off you and stands at the edge of you bed.

“I’m sorry love, did you get nervous? I’m nervous too, but if you don’t want-” You stand up in front of him and press a finger to his lips to stop his rambling.

“I was just beginning to realise, how clothed you are compared to me.” You whisper looking up into his eyes before dragging your finger down his chest to grip the bottom of the simple white shirt he was wearing, tucked into your favourite pair of black jeans on him.

Yunho blushed at his overreaction and let you undress him down to his boxer briefs. You then spin him around and push him onto his back before straddling his waist, you hold his face in your hands, “I love you so much Yunho, I want this with you more than I ever have with anyone, so believe me when I say, I want you inside of me now.” You finish off by whispering seductively into his ear.

You feel his hands tighten a your waist as he flips you over aggressively, causing a surprised grunt to fall from your lips, “Oh, sorry love.”

You go to shake your head as tell him you like the roughness he was bringing to this moment between you two, but before you could, you felt his thumb circle over your clit through your panties. You let out a loud moan, this feeling had been long anticipated, you knew you wouldn’t need much foreplay before you’d be wet enough to take his cock.

Yunho could tell too, he could feel the heat and slick of your pussy through your panties, causing him to push them to the side and thrust a finger inside you fast and hard. At the unexpected feeling you lurch forward and cling to his shoulder, his finger slows and he mumbles out another quiet apology before slowly thrusting his finger inside of you.

His slow thrusting was equally overwhelming and not nearly enough, so in hopes of riling him up more, you reach down into his briefs to start jerking your hand over his cock. His head falls into the junction of your neck and shoulder and moans into the skin there.

He starts speeding up his finger to match your hands speed, you instantly are yearning for more, “Another- fuck- another finger- please, Yunho.” You moan into his ear.

“You sure, jagi?” He asks. Growing a little tired of his hesitance, you speed up your hand in confirmation. He gets the picture and adds a second finger to penetrate you deeper.

It’s not long before you both start thrusting your hips into each other’s hands, moaning into each other’s skin. Yunho starts speeding up, loosing himself in the pleasure and even though it’s your first time together, you can tell he’s about to cum, so you pull your hand away and sit up.

He groans out in frustration and pent up tension while leaning his forehead into your chest. You run your fingers through his hair, “I want to feel you cum inside me, love.” You mumble from above.

He lifts his head to look at you, “Really? I mean I’m clean but-“

“So am I and I’m on birth control.” You say with finality.

SAFE SEX YALL, KEEP CLEAN

He grins again and kisses you deeply, pushing you back into your pillows, his hand comes up naturally to rest against your neck and you let out a soft gasp from excitement. Yunho gets worried again and goes to move his hand to your waist, but you stop him. You grab his hand and curl his fingers around your throat, “Stop worrying, I want you to loose yourself in this as much as I am, I like when you get a little rough with me.” You explain, pulling away gently to look him in the eyes.

Yunho sees only sincerity in your eyes, which is the only reason why he says, “Tell me to stop if you don’t like what’s happening.” He waits for you to nod your head before diving in to kiss you harder than he ever has before, he sucks and nibbles at your mouth while he grinds his erection into your crotch.

You eagerly moan into each other’s mouths before pulling the underwear off each other. Yunho sits up a little and positions his cock at the dripping entrance of your pussy, before he pushes himself in, he steadies himself with the hold he has around your neck and hip.

He sheaths his cock inside of you and bottoms out in one swift move, causing you to groan out in mostly pleasure, a little sting occurring thanks to Yunhos size.

Yunho knows you must sting a little, so he moves his hand on your hips down to massage your clit and distract you from the sting. You whine out loudly, clenching down on his cock, tight. Yunho falls forward into your neck again from how tight you become around him, “Please tell me to move soon.” He mumbles, speeding up his movements on your clit.

You whine out again before nodding your head, that’s all Yunho needed before he started thrusting into your pussy hard and fast.

You look down and catch his hips moving at a lighting speed. You notice a little bump at the bottom of your stomach each time Yunho thrusts into you, causing you to moan out loudly.

“Y-yunho-o-o, you’re s-so big,” you moan into his ear and you hear his breath hitch, “Look down baby- ugh fuck- your cock is filling me up so fucking well.”

You watch Yunhos face as he looks down, he lets outs a growl-like moan before tightening his grip on your neck, pushing on the soft points under your jaw, slowing the circulation in your head.

You lean your head back and begin to get light headed, somehow causing the pleasure in your body to triple. Yunho keeps up his pace with his hips and thumb, causing your climax to come quick.

You start to really moan loudly, inadvertently telling Yunho you’re about to cum. He leans in to kiss you passionately, swallowing your moans and spitting his own groans into your mouth.

Your arms loop around his torso to dig your nails into his back as you cum, Yunho leans his forehead against yours and stops kissing you to watch your face contort in pleasure, which is exactly what he needed to cum inside of you.

Before either of you know it, your softly rutting against each other, trying to prolong your orgasms and milk each other dry. Finally Yunho starts to hiss from the overstimulation and stops inside of you.

He leans back to smile down at you, you can’t help but grin back and lean up to give him a soft kiss, “That was amazing, love.”

“You’re even better Y/N.” He kisses you again and pulls out of your abused core. You each hiss with overstimulation and you move to go pee.

SAFE SEX YALL, PEE AFTER, DONT GET A UTI

When you come back to the bedroom, Yunho has taken off the blanket from your bed that you just had sex on, “Damnit, that’s my favourite blanket.” You mumble playfully.

He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, “I’ll be your blanket tonight.”

You smile into his chest before hearing his stomach grumble. You laugh cheekily, “Luckily I ordered food to come at eight-thirty.”

Yunho shuffles you both over to where you threw his jeans to get his phone, “Um, jagi? It’s eight-forty.”

You look up at him, “Oh god! What if the person delivering is still there!”

Yunho pulls away and moves to your door, while you stay put, slightly horrified, “Don’t worry, I’ll get the door.”

You make no move to offer your own pride as sacrifice, so instead as he walks down the hall, you shout, “I LOVE YOU!”

“I KNOW!”

#ateez #kpop #smut #unedited #kpop smut #ateez smut #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho smut #kpop fluff #ateez fluff #yunho fluff

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thecleverdame · 6 years ago

Text

Control and Release - 27

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: After the rest of the staff is caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester. As the arrangement becomes more defined, you and Sam begin a sexual adventure with dangerous consequences.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, nipple clamps, dub-con, breath play.

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Words: 5.7k

Parts 28-31 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories, including the ABO series Gods of Twilight and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

Two Months Later

Two of W & S's private planes are sitting side by side on the tarmac as you walk toward the stairs and board the jet. In the front section are the larger, roomier seats reserved for the more important members of the staff.

You spot Sam the moment you board, he’s seated with a laptop open in front of him. Next to him is the welcome sight of Pepper, pointing to something on the screen and rattling on. He seems to sense your presence, glancing up and locking in while you shuffle down the aisle. A small, amused smirk pulls at his mouth, throat bobbing as he watches you.

He really did a number on you this morning; set the alarm and everything to ensure the two of you had plenty of quality time together before departure. He had you in handcuffs, moaning his name before you were even truly awake. And now your ass is throbbing. He was in the mood to really give it to you good and then you begged for it even harder. This morning’s spanking will definitely make for an uncomfortable flight, but that’s the point. A constant reminder of his hands on your ass, enough to keep you wet in anticipation of what’s to come over the next few weeks together in a new place.

This trip to London is scheduled to last four weeks if everything goes well, but likely closer to six. Six weeks in a city you’ve only dreamed of visiting. The new office means training a hundred employees at W & S’s flagship UK office. You’ll each train your counterpart, helping to guide them through the internal processes.

“Hi Pepper,” you grin as you walk by them. “Welcome back.”

While you never imagined those words would be true, hell hath frozen over. Having a second rate replacement who didn’t understand your working or personal relationship with Sam proved to be incredibly challenging. Now that Pepper knows your secret, you hope this part of things will become easier. She’ll give you all the unfettered access you want with no questions asked.

“Hello.” She manages a grim, sickly smile.

Sam glances around, ensuring there’s no one else in the front cabin before speaking up.

“How are you this morning, Y/N?” he smirks, mouth barely containing a shit-eating grin.

Pepper sighs, shifting uncomfortably between you, with a roll of her eyes. She was at his house this morning to help him prepare. She watched you eat Corn Flakes in his kitchen with her trademark look of irritated judgment.

“Good, how are you, Mr. Winchester?” you counter, looking back as Millie boards the plane, walking up behind you. “Better keep moving.”

You enter the back section with a dozen smaller seats that are still a luxury compared to a commercial flight. Cole glances up from his book and smiles wide and warm, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.

Sam is sure it was him who turned you in to human resources, but you’re not convinced. He hasn’t acted any different towards you. He’s just as easy to work with as he was before the incident. It’s been almost two months now and there’s been nothing, no whispers or sideways looks. Someone saw or heard something, but whoever it is is playing their cards close to the vest.

For the first couple of hours, you chat about work, then he tells you about his mother and how hard the death of his father was on the whole family. You offer up little anecdotes about your parents and growing up in New Mexico. Even show him a couple of family photos.

Eventually, he makes a move to his iPad and you open your book. It’s hard to concentrate. You can feel him sneaking glances at you, once, twice and then every couple minutes.

You shut the book, turning to him.

“Is there something on your mind?”

He’s silent, settling his headphones around his neck. You see the wheels turning; whatever he’s about to say, he’s wrestling with it.

“I just...I thought I knew you.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach.

“What does that mean?” you hiss. Swiveling in the seat you glance behind you at Millie asleep with her mouth hanging open and Adam from IT watching a movie with giant headphones over his ears.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad.” Cole leans closer, eyes closing for a moment as if this conversation is equally as painful for him as it is for you. “I know you’re trapped in what seems like an impossible situation and you don’t know how to get out, but-”

“It was you.” You’re taken aback, staring at him as he blinks innocently at you. “You’re the one who went to HR.”

“Of course I did!” he nods curtly. “And I’d do it again.”

“That was none of your business.” You thrust a finger toward him.

“Of course it was, what he’s doing to you is wrong.” Cole reaches for your hand and you pull back like he’s burned you. “Look, I underestimated the level of power he wields. I thought HR would open an investigation and then you’d have an opportunity to tell someone what he’s been doing to you.”

“This is unbelievable.” You sink back against the seat.

“I agree. They know and they didn’t do anything. I thought Winchester was a straight shooter, but I should have known someone with his reputation would have a nasty skeleton in the closet.”

“Whatever you think you heard, you’re wrong.” You’re worried now. He’s so genuine in his explanation, he honestly believes Sam forced himself on you, coerced you into sex.

“I know what I heard,” Cole insists, grabbing for your hand. This time he catches your wrist and pulls you closer. “You don’t have to put up with that kind of treatment. You’re a strong woman, I can help you.”

“You have no idea what you’re walking about,” you whisper, swallowing hard. “You didn’t understand what you heard. You think it’s something that it’s not.”

He stares at you, sighing and sitting back.

“Alright,” he nods. “But if he’s doing this to you, he’s doing it to someone else, too.”

“Cole,” you turn toward him. “You have to let this go.”

“The Winchesters are bad guys. All of them,” he comments dryly, flipping open his computer. “Sam may have had more success than his brother but he just hasn’t gotten caught for his dirty deeds yets, but they’re both rotten.”

You shake your head in disbelief, trying to determine why he’s invoking Dean. He must have done his research.

“You have to trust me when I say that you have it wrong.” You might as well stop, all this pleading in vain. Cole has an idea in his head about who and what Sam is and he’s never going to let it go.

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore.” He gives you a tight smile. “I just needed you to know that I know. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

Eight Hours Later

“I’m not normally one to say I told you so, but…” Sam leans out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips and a toothbrush hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“You were right,” you concede, holding up both hands. “I just hate that he thinks you’re this evil guy.”

“Half the world thinks I’m an asshole,” comes his voice from the bathroom. “That’s nothing new to me. Does it bother you?”

”Of course it does. I don’t like the idea of Cole believing you’re some monster.”

“Well, Cole can’t love both of us at the same time.” He chuckles to himself and you hear him spit into the sink.

Sam’s room is ten times the size of yours, with a parlor, living room, massive bedroom and a bathroom large enough for a shower and soaker tub. To top it all off there’s a balcony just off his bedroom overlooking the city. You’ve been allocated a small box of a room on the second floor at a hotel down the street but luckily Sam handed you a key card to his room as soon as you stepped inside. He and Pepper are the only staff staying at this hotel, which makes slipping in and out a hell of a lot easier.

“Do you like the room?” Sam asks, wandering toward the bed in his underwear. “They have an even larger suite on the top floor but no terrace. I thought you would enjoy being able to sit outside.”

“I do,” you smile, watching him thoughtfully. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“I never stop,” he responds, smiling when you blush. “Are you tired?”

“Depends on why you’re asking.” You offer up a tired pout. “I’m pretty exhausted but I could be talked into any number of things.”

The London offices may be smaller but are no less impressive than the Boston office you work out of. You stand silently beside Cole as the elevator rises up the top floor.

“How are you?” he asks, adjusting his tie.

“Good,” you answer, staring forward.

You’re not sure what to say. After the world’s most awkward flight you checked into your official hotel room and went to join Sam, happy to be far away from everyone else. You haven’t spoken to Cole since you got off the plane.

Now that you’ve had time to process what he said, there are several things that don’t sit well. It seems as if he’s disappointed in you, let down that you were either unwilling or unable to turn on Sam and admit to harassment. If Cole truly believes Sam demanded sexual acts from you, it’s pretty shitty to say he expected more.

“I like your outfit.” He clears his throat looking ahead. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“Thank you. It’s new.” You look down at your tweed suit, a gift from Sam that morning. It’s Chanel, something you’d never be able to afford on your own. You were apprehensive over such an expensive gift at first but once you tried it on you figured it was a drop in the bucket for him.

“Looks expensive.” He gives you a once over.

“It is.”

The first meeting of the day is with Lady Toni Bevell and a dark-haired man named Mick who shakes your hand with such vigor you barely have feeling left when he lets go.

Cole introduces himself, explains his position and how long he’s been with the company. Then Toni chimes in, folding her hands on the table in front of her.

“Well, obviously, I just started in this position. I was a practicing lawyer up until a few years ago. But I’ve known Sam for a long time.”

“You know Winchester?” This seems to perk Cole’s attention and your ears go hot.

“We went to law school together,” Toni explains. “Old friends.”

“And I’m Mick.” Mick smiles big and wide. “I managed a barrister’s office, but they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. So now I’m here.”

He seems like a nice guy and you’re looking forward to making new friends. Knowing someone in London can’t be a bad thing.

“And you are?” Toni’s tone is unmistakable, she’s dripping with annoyance and you haven’t even opened your mouth yet.

“Y/N,” you smile at her. “I’m a department liaison.”

“Ah, yes,” Toni tilts her head, examining you. “Sam told me all about you.”

You nearly fall out of your seat and Cole shifts beside you.

“Y/N has been invaluable to me.” Cole inserts himself. “Showed me the ropes when I first started.”

“She must be quite impressive given that we don’t even have her position in this office but yet, she’s here.”

There’s something bubbling under the surface, a hostility she’s either barely able to hide or not attempting to. Frankly, you're surprised she hasn’t lunged across the table yet.

“I’m sure we can find something for you to do.” Toni sighs.

“I’ll need her, we have several projects in the works.” Cole’s words are a clear declaration. He’s a calm and collected guy but he doesn’t like anyone bossing his people around.

“Of course,” she nods, strumming her fingers on the table, eyes narrowing as she looks you over. “I look forward to working with you both.”

The minute the two of you are alone, Cole turns to you and whistles. “What did you do to piss her off?”

“Nothing!” you sputter. “I’ve never met her before.”

“Maybe it’s the suit,” he jokes.

“You didn’t tell me you and Lady Toni go way back.” You get up from your perch on his bed, slinking toward him.

“I didn’t think about it.” Sam shrugs, writing in his notebook without looking up.

“She’s sort of...hostile.”

“That’s what makes her good,” he responds, turning a page. “She’s a pit bull.”

“Well, she definitely hates me. I’m not sure what you told her, but it must have been some real shit, because I could feel her death rays from across the room.”

“Did she say something to you?” He puts his pen down, glancing up.

“It’s less what she said and more how she said it.”

“If it becomes a problem you should let me know.”

“Okay.” You watch him, his jaw shifting while he thinks. You know this look well. He’s trying to decide if he’s going to tell you something.

“I want to be upfront with you.” He takes off his glasses, setting them on the table.

“I want that too,” you agree.

“I’m not so sure you do.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Toni used to…” He stops to regroup. “We were together for a period of time.”

“Together as in...fucking or dating?”

“Both,” he explains.

“Oh.” You have to admit, you’re taken aback and instantly jealous. Of course he’s had sexual partners before you, but you prefer not to think about that.

“It wasn’t anything like what we have. She’s a cold person. There was no emotional component, it was strictly physical. We’ve remained in contact over the years. She’s a trusted colleague and friend.”

You’re quiet, contemplating exactly what that means. There’s an immediate embarrassment that starts in your heart and flushes out until your cheeks are burning. The party at Nick Luster’s place was different, but the idea of the people you work with knowing about your dynamic, specifically you as a submissive, is a fact that you would prefer to stay between you and Sam.

There’s a complex push and pull. During sex, Sam will use the idea of public humiliation as a turn on, and it is. But only as a fantasy. The thought of Toni Bevell with that kind of intimate knowledge is too much.

“Did you two...were you like us?” You’re struggling to find the right thing to ask. “Did she enjoy the same things I do?”

“No,” he answers quickly, making no move to get up from his seat. “I got bored quickly, but she was easy and available.”

“I see,” you look away from him, unsure how you’re supposed to react to this information.

“Are you upset with me?”

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.” You sit on the couch next to him.

“You look like you’re upset.”

“I’m jealous,” you admit, looking him in the eyes, those eyes that draw you in and hold you there. “Thinking about you with someone else is uncomfortable, but I’m glad you told me. Did you tell her about me? About us?”

“Yes.” He slides a hand over your knee. “She asked me about my life, and I told her I was seeing you. I trust her discretion.”

“Does she know about our...dynamic?”

Sam’s forehead wrinkles, displeased with your question.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you. I don’t talk about my sex life, especially with someone I’ve slept with.”

“Right.” You relax back against the couch. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

Sam looks tired. He’s been working sixteen-hour days and not getting enough sleep. It’s starting to take a toll.

“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” he offers. He’s hovering somewhere between annoyed with the implication and trying to remain open and honest.

“I don’t think so. I’m glad you told me,” you answer. The two of you look at each other in silence before you lean forward and kiss him on the lips. He’s tense, mouth in a tight purse as he returns the gesture. You pull back, examining him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing to do with you,” he sighs, giving your arm a squeeze.

“Do you want me to go so you can get some work done?” You point at his computer.

“No, I want you to stay.”

He looks...sad, maybe defeated or perhaps it’s something else. There’s been something going on for a while now. He’s been a freight train barrelling forward with a power and speed that’s unstoppable. It doesn’t seem to matter if he’s focused you, the house or his career, whatever has his attention he’s pushing further and faster as if he’s racing toward the finish line under some elusive threat.

“How’s your ass?” he asks, snapping you back to attention.

“Tender,” you grin, eyes fluttering away from his stare.

“I bet,” he rubs his thumb over his index finger, lost in thought before sitting back and tapping a hand on his leg. “Show me.”

“Now?” you look around at his open documents strewn over the table.

“Yes,” he shifts the tone of the interaction. “Now.”

There’s that familiar tingle, the excitement beginning to build. You rise to your knees, pulling the skirt up over your hips and crawl to him, laying carefully over his lap.

“Jesus,” he gasps. A big, warm hand softly smoothes over a butt cheek. “This had to hurt.”

He’s never seen marks like this on you before. You got a good look this morning at the black and blue welts across most of your backside. You’ve been encouraging him, and in turn yourself, for more each time. A little harder, a few more strokes. Not only does it build the pleasure for you but you love the ache it leaves for days afterward.

“I like it.” You wiggle in his lap.

“Stay still.” This command is accompanied by a small, stinging smack to your left side that makes you yelp in surprise.

He slips into this mode so easily and it’s clearly where he’s most comfortable. When the two of you are occupying this space, there are clearly defined roles, dominant and submissive, and he doesn’t have to think. This part of Sam operates on autopilot. He’s still learning to navigate the waters of being in a relationship, and truth be told, so are you. You’ve only dated a few guys and even that doesn’t compare. Sam is in a league of his own and there are times when you feel the same pressure of doing everything the right way.

When the two of you are like this, everything is suddenly effortless. The way he speaks, touches, fucks, it’s all unadulterated instincts. You and Sam have a natural rhythm, unlike any connection you’ve experienced before.

Sam’s uncomfortable with the entire conversation.

His “relationship” with Toni ended a decade ago and even then it was nothing more than an easy way to get laid. They were both busy, focused on nurturing fledgling careers. Neither with time to meet or date someone new. So they fucked.

Toni was far too much of a control freak to ever let him be the dominant one. She had trouble letting go, giving in, and in the end Sam realized that was what he needed, more so than blowing his load a couple of times a week. It was only satisfying for those few seconds of his release and then the satisfaction melted away like water down a drain. By the time he got out of bed, he was itching for something more.

He broke it off, told her they were done and walked out of her apartment when she started to argue. It was years before he heard from her again. And when she walked back into his life he was different, their dynamic was different. It was all business and she’s damn good at what she does. So when she was in the market and looking to make a change, he made her an offer, and a salary, she couldn’t refuse.

He could see the levity drain from your face the moment he said the words. We were together for a period of time.

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything but he’d made a promise to be upfront, and he’d want to know if you had screwed some guy he was working with. But then that look washed over your face and his stomach dropped.

It’s not that you’re skittish, in fact, you’ve proven to be quite the opposite. But he’s already put you through more than any rational person should put up with and he’d prefer to keep you from more unpleasant details.

Then you asked if she knew about the details. Red-cheeked and embarrassed you found the wherewithal to ask despite your apprehension. Instant offense rose into his throat, but he held back. He does that with you, only with you, holds back the harsher responses he lets fly on everyone else.

All he wanted was to redirect the conversation and shifting the entire scenario was the best way he knew how.

Now you’re laid out over his lap, bare ass still black and blue as you try desperately not to wiggle. God, your ass. He loves this ass, in fact, he loves every inch of your body. Someday Sam intends to take you on a vacation somewhere tropical, secluded, and keep you naked for a whole week so he can look at you whenever he wants.

But this will do for now.

“Sam,” you whine, both legs flexing.

Your voice snaps him back into the moment. Who knows how long he was lost in his own thoughts, but the waiting is part of what turns you on, so it works to his advantage.

“Shhh.” He smacks one cheek with an open palm, lighter than he normally would. You’re sporting some serious bruises. “Are you wet?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately, cheek pressed into the couch cushion.

Of course, you are. If he believed in fate he’d have to think you were made for each other. Sam needs control, now more than ever and you’re always willing to give it.

“I’m going to make you cum,” he explains, running a palm over your ass. “And that will be your last orgasm for a week. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Winchester,” you whisper.

Jesus Christ. His cock throbs in his pants. Those words get him every fucking time.

“What do you want right now?” he asks. Moving his hand between your legs he strokes the tip of his thumb through your folds. He can feel the heat between your thighs before he even touches you. And then that wet slick inviting him inside.

“I want you to fuck me.” Your voice is fractured, a broken wheeze as you suck in a breath, vibrating at his touch.

He’d love to fuck you, but he won’t. Maybe later tonight, but not yet. He likes to make himself wait, the build up makes it even sweeter. Being inside, feeling your warm little body writhe and wriggle underneath him is a reward he only allows himself in moderation.

“You want me here?” He presses his thumb at the opening of your cunt and you moan, your entire body twisting across his lap.

“Yes, please!”

The best part about you is that there is no act. You don’t put on a show for him, you’re just as desperate as you sound.

“Not today,” he explains casually, swatting your ass.

“Fuck,” you groan, turning your head to rest on the other cheek. He can see your face, eyes squinched shut, mouth open as you struggle to stay in place.

“Control yourself,” he commands and you instantly stop squirming.

Sam grins, adjusting his hips underneath your weight. His erection is painful but this isn’t about him. This moment is about you and the ways he can make your body respond.

Dipping his thumb back into your slick, he rubs up and down between the lips of your pussy, the tip brushing your clit. You gasp and rock forward, mouth opening and closing. Once his thumb is coated in your own arousal he moves back up to your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and pressing his thumb at the tight ring of muscle.

He watches your face as he presses his thumb inside. Your body fights it at first but he just keeps the pressure until you open up and he pops inside. He normally uses more lubrication but you like the pain.

You groan, face twisting in pleasure and discomfort as he forces himself inside.

His reach is long enough that his other fingers can easily get to your clit and he begins to stroke up your dripping cunt and tapping your clit as his thumb moves in rhythm, in and out of your ass.

It’s an easy slide back and forth over your bud and your hips begin to move with his hand. He could tell you to stop, but he likes to watch you like this. Desperate to take more of whatever he’s got to give. Fuck. If this isn’t over soon he might cum in his pants.

“Sam,” you moan, eyes opening and closing, but seeing nothing. You’ve got that signature glassy-eyed stare you always get when you’re getting closer. “May I cum?”

“Yes,” he nearly chokes on his words. Shoving his thumb as deep as he can, he works your clit faster and harder. It’s not even thirty seconds before your orgasm takes over.

You let out a long, low moan as your ass tightens around his thumb and your empty cunt clutches around nothing. He loves watching you orgasm, he can see your body consumed in pleasure as you pulse and release again and again until you’re boneless, laying across his lap.

There’s no better feeling in the world than watching you like this.

Sam’s felt like this about one other person, but that was a long time ago. And he and Jess were kids. It didn’t feel like it at the time, but it’s true. That relationship and this thing with you are uncomparable.

He wants you all the time, he thinks about you obsessively and wonders when the universe is going to take it all away. You moan again and he slips back into the moment.

You’re soaked, glistening wet over your pussy and on his fingers. He pulls his hand away, fighting against the swelling lust.

Sam is finding less and less restraint when it comes to you.

“Fuck it,” he murmurs, sliding out from underneath you. Making a muffled sound you look back at him as he gets on his knees between your thighs. Sam watches, licking his lips as you raise your hips up and back toward him as an invitation. He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants in record time, yanking his dick from his underwear.

Fisting his cock, he takes another moment to admire you like this, belly down and presenting yourself like you want it as bad as he does. He’s so fucking hard he can barely stand it as he lines himself up and catches the head of his cock in your pussy. He slides forward in one quick thrust as your body opens up, stretching wide to take all of him inside.

His eyes roll back in his head as his balls rock forward. You’re hot taffy squeezing around his cock, sopping, practically on fire from your orgasm and gripping every inch of his shaft as he pulls outs, only to push back in. You whine and pant, twisting on his cock, shoving your body against him begging for more. Sam wants more too, he wants all of your body and mind and anything else you’re willing to give to him. He wants you warm and wet like this. He wants you calm and quiet when you’re lying next to him at night.

He knows he’s got a big dick but the way your cunt grips him, the sight of your stretched out pussy sliding up and down his length makes him feel twice as big.

“Sam,” you moan his name, lifting yourself up onto your forearms, thrusting backward into the shove of his hips. He grabs a fist full of your hair, admiring the way your back arches and the angle changes. “Fuck, Sam, right there!”

“You like that?” he asks, jaw clenched tight as he thrusts fast. “Want me to cum inside you?”

“Yes! Please!”

You’re close to another orgasm, he knows your body well enough to recognize the wind up. Your ass is making a familiar skin-on-skin smacking sound as it meets his hips, accompanied by the wet, squelch of your cunt taking his cock again and again and again.

“Don’t cum,” he instructs, feeling his balls go tight. He smacks your right butt cheek twice, two quick whaps that send you reeling. He doesn’t really give a shit if you cum, in fact he hopes you do. There’s nothing better than you trying to fight it off and end up cumming on his cock when you can’t hold it back anymore.

“I can’t,” you sputter, twisting your neck to try and look at him. “Oh god, please. I’m gonna-”

And then you cum for the second time that evening, sucking and squeezing around him. Your tight little cunt flutters around his dick and he pushes as far inside as he can get as he cums.

It always starts as warmth in his stomach and a tingling in his balls. It builds and builds and then explodes, pulsing through his veins while he empties inside you. He huffs, mouth sealed shut, deep breath in and out through his nose as he comes back down from the high.

You’re lying still underneath him, back rising and falling while you wait for him to join you. With both hands on your hips he pulls his cock back, nice and slow so he feels the crown drag along your walls one final time. The head pops free and he waits, watches, feeling overwhelming satisfaction when his cum trickles back out, creamy white dripping over your clit.

“Sorry,” you try to look back at him, face bright red. You want so badly to please him, to obey. “I couldn’t help it.”

Sam smiles, sitting up and tapping your side as an indication to roll over.

“Bad girl,” he grins, settling back between your thighs, leaning down for a kiss. Your hot breath and eager lips as you press upward, always wanting more of this more intimate connection. “You need to learn discipline,” he mumbles over your lips, the tip of his nose pressing into your cheek.

“Good thing I have a dedicated teacher,” you laugh, thighs squeezing his waist and mouth finding his. You’re pressing up into his weight, wet pussy sliding over the skin just above the base of his cock. Everything about you is designed to distract him from the rest of the world. He wants to stay in this moment, to carry you to bed and get lost in the sweet smell of your hair and the warm, soft slide of your skin. But that’s not reality.

“I have a meeting.”

“Seriously?” You’re displeased, staring up at him.

“Drinks with senior staff.”

“With Toni?” you ask casually.

There is it. That hitch in your voice, left eye twitching, pupils contracting. You have a thousand tells despite the fact you consider yourself to have a solid poker face.

“Yes, she’ll be there,” he confirms, dipping down for one last kiss before peeling himself away, leaving you spread wide on his couch. He doesn’t want to look at you, can’t stand the line that forms in the center your forehead when you’re hurt and trying to conceal it. “I’m going to spend time with her while we’re here. It's unavoidable. And you’re going to work with her.”

“I know,” you sit up, that lazy wash of happiness draining away. “I just...I’m still processing the information that you two were lovers.”

“No,” Sam snorts, pulling his shirt over his head, and turning to face you. “Not lovers.”

“Fuck buddies,” you shrug, cheeks flushing a fresh shade of crimson.

“Is this a problem?” he asks, turning away and heading to the closet to find a fresh suit.

“No, it’s just, I don’t like it. I don’t have to like it. But I’m an adult and I’ll deal with it.” You’re mad at him, but it’s a valiant attempt at not letting it show.

If he weren’t so gun shy about being outed, he’d bring you with him. But you’ve made it clear you’re not ready for that yet and he understands. Being with him, publically, will change the entire trajectory of your life.

“I'll be back in a couple of hours.” He watches your back as you walk to the bathroom.

“Okay,” you raise a hand in acknowledgment without turning to look at him. “I hope you have a good time.”

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester smut #Sam Winchester Fanfic #sam winchester au

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nomnomsik · 6 years ago

Text

My Terms, | Chapter Two

Summary: Relatively close in age and similar hidden personalities, an idol and bodyguard discuss secret terms unbeknownst to the company. What will come about them and what exactly did they discuss?

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Please let me know your initial thoughts and feelings as it motivates me to continue this series! I’m not sure the direction I’m going in!

Trigger warnings: Yandere-themes, eventual sexual content, extreme possessiveness, mentions of violence, mentions of drugging, alcohol mention, clubbing mention, unhealthy relationships. Please read with caution!!

»»————- ✼ ————-««

“I understand.” You whispered softly, papers fluttering in your hands as your manager strictly went over your schedule, every single event planned perfectly in a tight timeline. Your only response was a yawn, stretching both arms up above your head and easing back to a normal standing position.

“That will be all.” Your manager concluded, drawing the assistants back in and ready to head out of the suite room of the booked floor, courtesy of your company. You too, packed the few things you brought, reaching for the door handle and pulling it open. The shuffling of shoes and bags behind you were recognized as Jungkook, feeling his presence without even having to look back. The walk down the hall was short, sliding your room card through the lock and opening your spacious room.

It was another suite, one queen-sized bed in the living room and another in a medium-sized bedroom. As you dumped your bag onto the floor near the kitchen and bar, you turned to see Jungkook enviously eye the bed in the living room, his hands tightening his grip on the carry-on bag. You only smiled to yourself, turning around and fixing yourself a glass of champagne in the late evening, the sun setting in the horizon, glittering off the large window panes from your room, which conveniently overlooked the city.

“You can stay if you want.” You proposed, waltzing over to look out at the city lights, buildings slowly flickering them on. A scoff, or what seemed to sound like a scoff, escaped Jungkook’s lips as he laid the heavy bag out on the floor.

“Noona, you know better than that.” He chuckled to himself afterward, setting out the various skincare products out on the living room table. “I could get fired for that y’know.”

“Oh, I know.” You simply replied, taking another gulp from your glass. “You don’t have to do that for me, Jungkook.” You turned, a smirk on his lips as he seemed to move faster than you expected, already laying out most of the things from your toiletry bag.

“Oh.” You muttered, eyes darting away from him and mumbling a ‘thanks’ under your breath. Instead, you plopped down on one of the soft sofas, unlocking your phone and beginning the scroll that was Twitter. Jungkook made his way to your side, leaning over to catch a glimpse of your feed as you scrolled and scrolled down.

You paused, stopping to watch a video that was recorded the day in the airport back in Korea. Your eyes couldn’t help but squint as you watched a bystander record your entourage, the moment where Jungkook grabbed and shoved the man onto the ground. From the video, you were able to take in Jungkook’s slanted eyes and dark gaze, only to quickly return to your side. A scoff left your lips as you tried to suppress your growing smile, aware of the attentive boy who was staring straight at you, looking for any reaction.

“Noona?” He questioned, eyes sparkling with curiosity. What was that face? Were you proud of him? Did you want him to always act like that? There was an ache in his hands that caused his fingers to twitch, impatience building up in his already restless body.

“Don’t you think you were a bit too rough?” You joked dryly, replaying the clip one more time for good measure. The overeager “fan” toppled and hit the ground, hard. You were no orthopedist, but you were sure that his muscles would sting for a couple of days.

“I thought you liked it when-”

Jungkook stopped his own train of thought as you stood up from your seat, walking over to the kitchen of your room. He followed you like a puppy dog, again at your side while you laid your glass into the sink. Your fingers trailed to the faucet, letting the warm water pour and fill the glass as you cleaned it out.

“Look nice tonight, Jungkook.”

He paused, cocking his head in slight confusion until it clicked in his mind.

“Noona…” He sighed, huffing as his footsteps echoed into the kitchen. “You can’t be serious. Today? Tonight? We just landed. You need to rest.”

“No.”

Today was not a day you would be rejected, especially with the convenience of being in another country, a place where the likeliness of foreigners and locals noticing you were slim. Even just taking a glance at your schedule made you feel tired, the list going on and on for what seemed like an eternity. By then, you wouldn’t have enough energy to have fun.

“Listen Jungkook, I’m going to be busy tomorrow and the day after that. Today’s the only day that works. You agreed to my terms, so you better stick to it.” You slammed the knob to the faucet off, eyeing the younger with no intention of backing down.

Jungkook’s eyes seemed to flicker with hesitation, throat gulping and body squirming under your gaze. He closed his eyes, ruffling his dark locks only to reluctantly agree.

“Fine.”

»»————- ✼ ————-««

A knock, then two, then three. You slipped out of your covers from your bed, rushing toward the door as you slowly clicked it open. Jungkook slid in through the slim opening, arms coming to engulf you in a tight hug.

“Well?” You inquired, slipping your bare feet into two-inch heels, the entrance light illuminating above you.

“They’re asleep. The guards on the floor are finished monitoring for the night. We can slip out through the staircase since the elevator is too loud.”

You nodded, taking hold of Jungkook’s hand as you both slipped into the hallway, the door softly closing and locking behind you. Jungkook stood slightly taller than you, guiding you through the bright hallways and pushing the door to the stairwell open.

“Well done.” You complimented, watching each step you took, having to walk a few floors down. Jungkook patiently waited for you until you finally met him by the door to floor 10, the two of you walking over to the elevator and descending down to the main lobby.

“We should have two to three hours.” He whispered close to your ear, his fingers still interlocked with yours. It didn’t phase you that his hand was intertwined with yours, but from the glances you seemed to steal, it seemed Jungkook had the opposite reaction. He kept staring at how you were finally joined with him, how soft your hands seemed to be, and much smaller than he anticipated.

You flipped your hood up, huffing as you stepped outside in the cold night weather, city lights glittering each street.

“I hate wearing this. It’s so ugly.” You sighed, baggy hoodie drenching your body as you took quick steps down the sidewalk.

“It’s better than getting spotted.” Jungkook laughed, admiring the liveliness of the city with you by his side.

“Who cares at this point?”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asked, turning to you as you walked ahead of him. His face was stricken with a complicated emotion, one that you had trouble discerning for yourself.

“I mean- I wish I didn’t have to sneak out. Why should people care if I want some drinks at a famous club?”

Jungkook only stayed silent, hesitant but nodding nonetheless. He didn’t feel that way at all, he enjoyed being here with you. In fact, he loved it. He loved how you needed him to sneak out, how you were only with him.

Yes, you were with him this late at night. Nobody else. Just him. Now that he thought about it, how was this any different from a date? Your hands were interlocked with each other like every couple that passed by, and yet…

“Jungkook.” You called, opening the door that led downstairs into a darker room, LED lights illuminating onto the walls. He followed after you, the intensity of the music only growing further when he walked in. You immediately beelined for the bar counter, taking a seat on one of the red stools. Jungkook watched in admiration as you gave your order in English, swiftly to turn to him and giving him a confident smile.

You were enjoying a few drinks by the bar with Jungkook, clinking glasses together and giving him such a bright and flirtatious smile that made his heart pound harder and harder in his chest. Your face was a rosy pink, half-lidded eyes smiling down as you swirled your drink.

“I didn’t know you were that strong of a drinker, Jungkook.” You shouted, bubbly laugh reaching his ears despite the loud music.

He gave a bright smile back, taking another shot with you that burned his throat. As you called for another few glasses, a few voices came from behind you. Jungkook couldn’t even register just how fast, three men surrounded you, one on each side. They all had vibrant blonde hair, one with a warmer brown mixed in, but Jungkook looked at them with distaste.

They were young. Maybe 19 or 20. Of course, they got in. America seemed to impress him every day.

Jungkook tried to lean in closer, but with the loud music and his lack of English, he couldn’t barely make out the conversation. While you preoccupied with one of the young boys, Jungkook kept a good eye on the one far behind you, your back facing him. The bastard struck fast, almost enough for Jungkook to miss it from a single blink.

White powder. It quickly dissolved into the clear glass infused with your drink, while you were conversing with now the other two boys.

“How about you leave me be? Besides, I don’t like my men as young boys.”

The boys laughed as if it was the funniest joke on earth. You rolled your eyes, returning to meet Jungkook’s gaze while your hand reached for one of the glasses on the counter.

“Noona?!” Jungkook yelled in panic, his hand reaching for your drink as you quickly batted him away, eyes wide as he stared in horror. The music and heavy bass echoed off the wall, drowning his voice as he watched you toy with the drink in your hands. You were literally playing with fire, and Jungkook couldn’t even tell if you truly knew or not.

The male in front of you, probably the most confident one of his group, raised an eyebrow at you, also taking a glass from the counter and gulping it down. You joined him much to Jungkook’s horror, gulping down the shot with one fluid motion.

“Thanks for the drink.” The young one called, snickering as he turned away and went to the back of the dance floor with his friends.

“Dumbass.” You scoffed, stepping off from your seat, straightening out your hoodie and shorts. “Wrong glass.”

“Jungkook.” You again called, extending your hand, only for him to quickly take it. Jungkook still had a worry stricken look on his face. Would he ever stop worrying about you? “I’m fine, Jungkook.”

“Noona? Y-you just-”

“Jungkook, I said I’m fine. Why else would three boys come up to me? Do you really think they want to have a friendly conversation with me?”

Jungkook opened his mouth, but he realized how foolish he was. Of course, it was obvious from the start that you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Now, let’s have some fun. If I have to sneak out every night just to enjoy my life, then so be it. I’m not going to let being an idol stop it.”

He followed you as you led him onto the dance floor, other bodies fervently moving about. Even though the air was filled with sweat and other disgusting smells, the two of you were enraptured with each other, his grip strong on your hips as yours met his shoulders.

“You really suck at dancing.” You laughed, a smile gracing both his and your lips.

“I know.” He giggled back, feeling the alcohol coarse through his veins.

Your foreheads touched, intoxicating breaths fanning each other with the heavy bass in your ears. He lips met yours, eyes fluttering closed as you held onto him. It felt just like it did a few months ago, blood pooling onto both of your intertwined legs. Even without his chapped lips, finally having time to heal, he tasted exactly the same.

“You can do better than that.” You whispered once your lips separated, encouraging him further. He gladly accepted your challenge, pressing harder on the dance floor even when all he could taste was alcohol.

When had you said that? He wondered, his mind drifting off as his lips still remained on yours. The sentence seemed oddly familiar, flashes of red and black painting his mind.

N-Noona, I love you. I want to tell you how much I love you. I want to protect you forever. I need your guidance. I want to be the most loyal...

Jungkook hoped the blaring music would deafen out his voice, mash it up with all the other sounds in the room. It was something he had always needed to get off his chest, three words that rendered the contract void.

“Noona…” He whispered. “I lov-”

A finger came up to his lips as you hushed him.

“Don’t…”

#yandere bts #yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #bts series #bts au #jungkook x you #yandere bts x reader #my terms #bts fanfiction #bts scenario

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icequeenjules26 · 6 years ago

Text

Digging in the sand, looking for Gold

Summary: When Dan's Beach-Volleyball partner retires, he's not sure how to continue his career. By coincidence he meets the aspiring Youngster Sascha, his best friend Marcelo and physiotherapist Phil, who shakes believes and rules Dan has lived by for all of his life. Suddenly, Dan's life becomes a lot more complicated...

Word Count: 11,8k

Tags: Strangers to lovers, Slow Burn, Fluff, a bit of angst

A/n: This is my first fic for this year's @phandomreversebang! Art is by @penisdinosaur, beta'd by @rubberbandx, big thank you to both of them!

Read on AO3

For as long as Dan could remember, sand was everywhere.

Even when he wasn’t currently on court, when he was training in the weights room or running his laps on track, jogging in the morning, even on vacations - there was always sand. He could feel it in his clothes when he moved, no matter if he had actually worn them on court yet or not. He could see - hear it trickling out of his hair when he shook his head, even right after a shower. There was sand at the bottom of every bag he owned, used for training or not - it didn’t matter.

Sand was his everlasting companion, like family members - they were always there, and sometimes they showed up out of nowhere even when you definitely did not want them to.

But even though sandy clothes or bags usually meant displeasure to normal people, like an itch they couldn’t scratch, to Dan it was comforting - it was home. It was that little piece of his life that he brought everywhere, that he couldn’t shake even if he wanted to; it was his sign of belonging. Whenever he felt foreign, strange, he’d see a few grains of sand, like the Universe showing him You’re not alone. You belong.

Other people would look at him funnily whenever he mentioned it and his own rationality told him how absolutely insane it sounded, but it didn’t matter. It was the way he felt.

As long as the sand would follow him, he would be okay.

That’s why his partner’s retirement hit him even harder. Sure, he could search for a new partner, could try to find someone else he had this on court connection with, someone who knew what he’d do before he knew himself - but not only the improbability of that was a big dampener. They were a Team , him and Markus, had always been; all the way from the sightings matches in their youth to where they were now: training for Olympia. Even though it was still a long way, and if he wanted to, Dan knew he could do it… It was more the way there that made Dan question if it was even worth the effort.

It was his life’s dream. It was everything he’d ever worked for, the only thing he’d ever wanted to achieve. He’d never cared much about education, graduations or even degrees. He had dedicated his life to this sport, had given it his all for several years - just to get thrown off course basically only moments before achievement.

He didn’t blame Markus for any of it, obviously. He had torn the front ligament in his right knee, which would take several months to recover from, and had several other projects in the making, a musical career to fall back to and an amazing husband that supported him every step along the way.

He wasn’t like Dan.

Dan had nothing but his goal - he was nothing but his goal.

He drank, breathed, lived this sport, and he wouldn’t have quit had he been the one getting injured - but he wasn’t, and finding a perfect partner was harder than recovering from an injury. Chances were he’d never find anyone else who understood him on court like Markus did.

So, naturally, the situation hit Dan like a brick wall and metaphorically had him lying in a ditch somewhere for several weeks. He put off looking through the documents of the aspirants his trainer had sent him, just flipped through them halfheartedly, barely noticing what he saw before he gave up and frustratedly threw them in the vague direction of his desk.

He slumped around at home, missed training sessions and basically stopped strength training altogether. He even shortened his morning and evening runs. Only in the night, when the sun sunk below the horizon and normal people went to sleep, all the energy he hadn’t used over the day caught up with him; he became agitated and restless until he finally gave in and went for a jog.

It was during one of those midnight runs that he met Sascha.

Dan was running through the park a few blocks from his apartment, letting the night air cool his skin and ruffle his wild locks. As usual, he didn’t pay much attention to where he was going - nor did he even look. His eyes were up in the clouds, watching them as they drifted by, getting illuminated by the almost full moon standing proudly up in the sky. He knew this park like the back of his hand, could probably run his way through with closed eyes and covered ears, so he had started on his usual route and let his feet do the rest.

Panic ’s This is Gospel just started playing when there was a strange cracking noise that had Dan fearing for his headphones - he’d literally justbought new ones, they couldn’t seriously be broken again already?! - then something colliding with him mid-step and suddenly, he found himself sitting on his ass.

For a second he was completely disoriented, unable to even distinguish between up and down, just sat there, blinking like an idiot. Then his brain caught up with his body, his sight cleared and he could make out a figure standing over him. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Fuck, I didn’t look where I was going -” A male voice started rambling and a hand reached out to help Dan up.

Dan took the offered hand and got pulled to his feet. The first thing he noticed was the height difference - which was basically nonexistent. The guy was tall , almost as tall as Dan, which said something, and fairly athletically built. “Hi, nice to meet you - I’m Sascha.”

That’s how it all started - somehow it spiraled from there.

Sascha insisted to buy Dan a drink for the inconvenience, even though it was as much Dan’s fault as it was his, at least in Dan’s book. They started talking, and it didn’t take Dan too long realize he was a Beach Volleyball player like himself. When he asked about a partner Sascha just shrugged and told him he hadn’t found the perfect one yet - and a plan started building in Dan’s head.

Half an hour later they had a training session scheduled for the next day, numbers exchanged and on his way home, Dan’s steps felt a lot lighter.

The training went even better than anticipated. From the first minutes on court Dan understood Sascha and vice versa, and Dan had rarely felt this connected to a person that wasn’t Markus on an athletic level. Sascha was a few years younger than Dan and not officially seeking a partner, so he hadn’t been among the documents Dan had gotten from his trainer, but he was adamant to try out this partnership, wherever it would lead them.

Dan’s trainer met with Sascha’s and it was settled - they’d be going through a month long trial and training period, but Dan already knew this partnership was what he’d been searching for.

It didn’t take too long to discover his new partner didn’t only come with fresh energy and new plans, no - he also came with a bunch of associates. There was Mischa, his older brother and one of Dan’s biggest rivals since forever, almost immediately offering to bury all bad feelings and try to be friends, which Dan agreed on without a second thought. There was Marcelo, Sascha’s best friend and training partner - also the one Sascha gazed at whenever he thought no one was looking, and Dan made a mental note to ask him about it as soon as a foundation of trust had been built.

And last but not least, there was Phil - tall and handsome Phil, with a black quiff and striking blue eyes and a smile that basically lit up the room. He was Sascha’s physiotherapist and tested Dan’s restrain to the max.

Dan’s first rule had always been no dating - no distractions on his way to gold. For years it had held up; no relationships, only sex, no strings attached, but within days Dan could tell upholding that rule would only get harder with Phil around.

Overall the group was so tightly knitted that Dan wondered if they’d even find room for him. He had always been somewhat of a lone wolf, but something about them made Dan want to belong .

And no, it was not the fact that Phil was too hot for his own good and Dan regularly forgot his own name when he looked at him. Not at all.

Well, at least not solely that…

___

For some time things were calm.

Training with Sascha was going well, great even. The connection on court Dan had felt from the very first minute wasn’t wavering, and he was more than happy about having found a new partner that seemed to fit even better than the last one. He even felt like he finally got somewhere with the group - they started inviting him to outings, Marcelo included him in jokes and Phil had seemingly made it his goal to make Dan lost for words any chance he got. Only Sascha seemed still a bit wary of him - at least in the group. He was incredibly protective of them, even though he was the youngest, and had trouble trusting Dan for a reason that was beyond his imagination. When Dan had asked Phil about it, he’d smirked and told him it was just a matter of time, but he was getting more and more agitated.

About two weeks after Dan and Sascha started playing together, the group talked about going to a nearby pub to celebrate something, but Dan hadn’t paid much attention since he hadn’t expected to be invited.

As he made his way to the locker room, Phil surprised him by suddenly appearing in front of him, looking more than excited. “Dan! We’re going out for a couple of beers. Wanna come?”

For a few seconds Dan just stood there, stunned, blinking at Phil like he’d spoken latin instead of english. He risked a look at Sascha and Marcelo to confirm - while Sascha looked a bit miffed he still smiled kindly and Marcelo nodded invitingly. “I - I mean - Sure,” he stuttered out and Phil’s pale blue eyes shined so brightly that for a second, Dan was blinded.

About half an hour later they arrived at the pub and placed orders for the first round of beer. Dan, still not sure what the occasion was, opened up the conversation. “So - what are we celebrating?” he asked and the table had mixed reactions. While Marcelo’s previous wide smile seemed to dim a bit - Dan was convinced that man would probably smile in the face of death, he’d never seen him not smiling - there was a wide grin on Phil’s face and Sascha…

Dan couldn’t believe his eyes. Was he really blushing ? What was happening ?

It was Phil who took it upon himself to catch Dan up to speed. “So, a few years ago -”

“I was really young!” Sascha interjected, and there was definitely a red tint there. Dan smirked. That seemed promising.

“He had this crazy girlfriend. Like - she was completely nuts. She was... ” Phil traded off.

“Insane!” Marcelo provided, seemingly trying to be helpful, and Phil chuckled. “Not what I was searching for, but thanks, Marcelo.”

Both grinned at each other with a side glance at Sascha, who stared at the beer in his hand, cheeks still red.

“Anyways, Marcelo is right. She was jealous as fuck, controlled him any step he took, posted private pictures of him online, that sort of thing,” Phil said, moving his index finger in circles around his temple, emphasising his words. He waited for Dan to nod in understanding before he continued. “But he just let her. Like an idiot.” He snickered, Marcelo nodded and Sascha acted scandalized, calling out an offended hey! that the other two ignored.

“He -” Phil started up again, but Sascha interrupted him again. “I thought I loved her!” he tried to defend himself, seeking help with Dan. He just chuckled. “What happened?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’d bug him about it for weeks , but nothing happened. He found excuses for her over and over again and I was so tired of it -”

“And then I knocked some sense into him!” Marcelo heckled, obviously proud of himself, and Phil shot him an unimpressed look. “Can’t a guy finish a story in peace around here?!” he asked and the rest chuckled.

“But yeah, Marcelo’s about right. They weren’t that close at the time, it was when Marcelo was still active, but Sascha talked to Marcelo during his strength training and when he came to his appointment a few hours afterwards he told me he wanted to break up with her. And that’s the story of how Sascha finally broke up with his crazy ex.” Phil’s smile was wide and his eyes bright, and Dan struggled not to loose focus. He’s fucking adorable… He silenced his own brain. Shush! Not gonna happen!

“Since then we come together at that joyous day to celebrate,” Marcelo explained and Dan just couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s quite the story,” he pointed out and the rest chuckled.

“You won’t get bored around us, I promise,” Phil said and caught his eyes. “I believe you,” he answered, not looking away, lost in the other’s blue irises, like he was trapped in a kaleidoscope of blue and gold and green.

Goddamnit .

When he finally managed to break the spell and avert Phil’s eyes before they’d suck him in yet again, Sascha gave him a somewhat satisfied, somewhat encouraging look, and this time, it was Dan’s turn to blush. This group would be the death of him, he was almost certain already.

After that incident, Sascha’s wariness decreased, which made it even harder for Dan to avoid Phil and the temptation he caused, but at least it gave him a lot more confidence. Sascha was his one way ticket to gold, and he intended to use it. If he’d become friends with the guy on the way there - even better.

Since his weeks of doing basically nothing Dan had kept to his midnight routine of going for a run in the park next to his house.

The problem, Dan mused as he jogged along the familiar path, was probably that they were similar in a lot of ways, in their drive for success and in the fact that originally, they were lone wolves. Dan couldn’t know what had happened, how Sascha had come to such a tightly knitted group of friends around him, but it shone through in every movement he made that he once hadn’t had a lot of friends - if any at all. Sure, he had a brother, but Dan could tell from his own experience that bloodlines didn’t form friendships of their own. Now Sascha and Mischa seemed close, but who knew what had lead them there?

Dan wanted to know more about them, he realized. He was the most interested in Phil, he’d admitted that much to himself already, but he’d closed that door for himself, shut it forcefully and locked it as often as he could - and surprisingly, the others didn’t leave him cold either. Originally, Sascha had been supposed to be his way to reach his goal, but now he - all of them - had become more. He had a feeling they could be great friends - if he’d just let them.

Completely lost in thoughts, Dan continued down his usual route, contemplating what to do about the whole Sascha situation. There was something wrong with the guy, something laying heavy on his heart, but he had no clue what exactly. He knew there had to be something he could do - the question was what . He wasn’t really skilled in handling other people, had spent his life refraining from relationships that would only serve as distractions for his main goal.

Now, though, it seemed different - a lot was different. Sure, he had no plans on getting a relationship - No, not even with Phil! - but what about friendships? To play his best he had to be open with his teammate, to let him in and truly become a team, he knew that now. But how was he supposed to do that when his teammate obviously hadn’t come to the same conclusion yet?

A voice ripped him out of his thoughts mid-step. He came to a slithering halt, looking up and finding himself just a few centimeters away from someone else - someone he identified as Sascha within seconds.

“Sascha!” he got out between gasps, “What are you doing here?”

There was a smirk on Sascha’s face as Dan struggled to catch his breath, and he had to stifle a grumble. Stupid youngsters and their stupid fitness.

“You okay?” Sascha asked, smirk still in place. Dan shot him an intimidating look, but Sascha only grinned. The wild, dirty blonde locks on his head were hardly contained by the headband he had on and stuck out left and right. His striking green eyes shone even more in the pale moonlight and their bright colour reminded him of someone else - for a second, the eyes were blue as the sky on a sunny day, with a black quiff framing a beautiful face, coming closer towards Dan, closer and closer until his lips finally…

No! Forget it!

Then Sascha snickered again and Dan’s vision of Phil shattered like a mirror. He shook his head quickly, trying to order his thoughts and get back to reality, while Sascha still observed him with a smirk. Dan shot him another look but again, Sascha seemed entirely unimpressed.

He sighed. “I’m fine,” he grumbled, finally focussing on the situation at hand. “So what are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing in a park in the middle of the night in my running clothes?” He raised an eyebrow, then: “I’m about to rob a bank, obviously.”

For a second, Dan just stared blankly, desperately trying to hold in a laugh. It wasn’t even that funny, he wouldn’t - then his eyes met Sascha’s and he lost all restrain. He broke out laughing, so loudly it scared up some birds in the area that flew away with irritated squawks.

That was the start of joint jogging sessions at night and an unforeseeable friendship. They grew closer every day, and Dan was glad Sascha seemed to open up to him more. He trusted him with his group of friends, invited him to hang out with them, and sometimes, when they were alone, Dan could see that he was moments away from talking to him - truly talking. It was obvious Sascha had a lot on his mind, in his heart; and it was also obvious that for some reason, he didn’t think he could talk to the others about it. But there was still something holding him back, something that kept him from talking to Dan about it, and Dan didn’t know what to do to get him to talk. So he waited.

Their trial period ended without acknowledgement. No one even talked about breaking off their partnership - as a matter of fact, Dan forgot about the deadline completely until a month later. He and Sascha were training together for two months at this point, and while on one hand, the training went by so fast he couldn’t believe it had already been two months, on the other hand it felt like they’d been partners forever.

Sure, Dan loved his sport, loved the sand, playing and giving it his all, but training had still tended to stretch out and drag - at least before Sascha. Now, sessions were filled with laughter and jokes, small pranks and friendly competitions; with Marcelo and Phil sitting on the sidelines cheering them on and clapping. Sometimes, Mischa was there, obviously impressed with the progress they made, and even Dan’s trainer basically forgot to nag half the time, silently watching instead, in awe about their teamwork.

Phil’s part in Dan’s life became bigger the more he was around all of them, and he shook Dan’s beliefs to the core. He distracted himself with the mystery around Sascha, with training and group outings, where he tried to keep more to the others, but it got harder by the second to resist. He was pretty sure Phil was interested - he kept flirting, leaning into Dan’s personal space or placing a hand on his thigh voluntarily - so Dan was glad he wasn’t required to spent a lot of time alone with Phil. His restrains slowly started to run thin, and he did not want to push his luck any further.

The partnership between Dan and Sascha continued growing. They started with strategy meetings in preparation for their first tournament together. They played a friendly match against Mischa and his partner which they won by far, and work progressed even faster than anticipated. Sascha still kept silent about his problems, but as he became more familiar with him and their group Dan at least gained enough insight to observe and draw reasonable conclusions.

One night they were out bowling, Dan, Phil, Sascha and Marcelo; and while he spent the most time conversing with Phil - damn the guy for being interested in the same things as Dan, how dare he? - Dan really paid attention to the way the group worked. While trying not to focus on Phil leaning into him with his hand on Dan’s knee, he noticed how often Sascha and Marcelo would look at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. How they always seemed to touch in one way or the other. How they sat so close there was no room between them even though it wasn’t necessary, and how many inside jokes they had.

Marcelo and Phil on the other hand were a lot closer than Dan had first anticipated. They shared looks sometimes, like they were conversing wordlessly, and when Marcelo hesitated in his movements or speech - usually because Sascha came close to him, or touched him, or laughed particularly brightly - Phil would immediately step in and try to distract from it.

All that only served to raise more questions for Dan. It seemed clear to him that Sascha and Marcelo had feelings for each other, but didn’t act on it; and Dan simply couldn’t get behind the reasons. And that, Dan realized, might’ve even been the reason Sascha had been wary of him. He made a mental note to ask Phil about it - which brought him to a whole other problem.

Phil, hot, precious Phil was testing Dan to the max. Most of the times it seemed obvious he was flirting with Dan, dropping hints that he was single and searching while complimenting him, leaning forward and suspiciously into Dan’s space. He grinned at Dan with that honest, open smile of his, probably aware of the fact that it made Dan’s knees go weak. He even asked Dan if he needed treatment, being a physiotherapist and all, and after some hesitance, Dan agreed to make a plan quite similar to the one Sascha had, with regular appointments.

In summary: Dan’s life did not become any easier.

_____

It was during one of those appointments that Dan finally decided to ask Phil for help to unravel the mystery around Sascha.

It had been a particularly weird training. Sascha had had obvious trouble concentrating; he was occupied with looking up at the stands where Marcelo was sitting instead of tactic training. He continued to sigh, but whenever Dan would bring it up, he’d say it was nothing.

Dan was fed up with it.

So, while he was lying on the treatment couch, Phil’s hands kneading his muscles and therefore in desperate need of a distraction anyways, he just blurted it out. “What’s up with Sascha and Marcelo?”

The hands on his back stilled for a moment and Phil took a deep breath. He continued the treatment when he’d let it out slowly, but didn’t say anything, and Dan became worried. Had he said something wrong?

When he’d finally worked up the nerve to apologize - for what, he had no clue, but there had to be something - Phil spoke up again. “As much as I want to,” he said with utter sincerity, “It’s not my secret to tell.” The utter defeat in his voice made Dan’s heart hurt for him. He just wanted his friends to be happy, Dan realized, but was about as powerless as Dan was.

“Okay,” he croaked and they didn’t talk about it again.

Dan would have to go straight to the source.

___

For around two months not much changed. Dan gradually affiliated into the group, he continued to withstand the temptation that Phil posed, just Sascha’s unceasing silence still had Dan worried.

At least until the international beach volleyball association - IBVA in short - uploaded one of their “behind the scenes” videos to their Youtube channel.

Usually, Dan didn’t pay much attention to the videos they uploaded. In all honesty, he followed their channel more out of guilt than anything else. Just this time, he’d anticipated that video: in their catching up with... series they interviewed former athletes that had retired from the sport for one reason or the other. Athletes… Like Marcelo.

Marcelo had been practicing the sport for over ten years until he had won gold at the olympics for the second time, when he had decided to retire; him and Sascha had already been friends at that point. Now he recently turned thirty and worked with different TV Stations broadcasting beach volleyball tournaments, allowing him to travel around with Sascha and the others. The IBVA had interviewed him a week ago, and he’d told the others to tune in when it came out.

The first few minutes was nothing too important, just about Marcelo’s life shortly after his career, how he was handling retirement and if he missed the sports. Then they reached the present, and with it, Sascha - a promising youngster of only 22 years who’s recent switch of partners had caused a lot of frenzy in the community.

Marcelo breached upon the topic with nonexistent ease, with all the awkwardness he held, but the interviewer ate it up. She dug deeper about Sascha, how he was doing, how close the two were.

That’s when he spoke the sentence that had Dan hurting for Sascha. “Yeah, Sascha is my best friend. Like the little brother I never had, you know? I wouldn’t want to do without him for the world.”

He paused the video out of pure panic - even though Sascha wasn’t even in the room - and for a moment, the world seemed to stop, halting in its rotation to give Dan a moment to grieve for the happiness of a friend that had become so dear to him. He couldn’t believe Marcelo just said that - had he no idea how Sascha felt? Did he not care? And what about his own feelings? Dan would’ve bet all his money on Marcelo having feelings for Sascha as well.

Yet again more questions appeared and this time, Dan was more than dumbfounded. He’d never expected this to come out of this interview.

It took Dan minutes to calm down enough to continue watching the video, but no more important things happened. They moved on from the topic Sascha fairly quickly after; Marcelo said a few words about Dan and how well they worked together, with some kind of dull shimmer in his eyes that Dan just couldn’t decipher, then it was mostly about the sport itself and other contestants in the upcoming tournament.

When the video was over Dan sat in silence, staring at the still illuminated screen of his laptop for multiple moments, then he took a deep breath and got up. He had some strength training to do before he met up with Sascha for their nightly jogging session.

___

When Dan arrived at their usual meetup-point Sascha was not there yet. By itself, that wasn’t a big deal since he tended to be always late for literally everything, but after the video it had Dan a bit worried. Sascha was like Dan in a lot of things - like the fact that he tended to work twice as hard whenever something bad happened. He concentrated on work to not think about his problems. Dan could truly relate.

For almost ten minutes Dan waited relatively calm. Then he became increasingly worried. Sascha still wasn’t there, and he had neither answered Dan’s messages nor picked up the phone when he’d called.

After half an hour Dan was beside himself. He’d finally called Phil, and while he didn’t know where Sascha was either he at least gave him the useful advice to check his apartment Phil wondered what the fuss was about, though, so Dan just told him to check the video the IBVA had put up.

It took Dan less than five minutes to get to Sascha’s apartment block. When he first rang the doorbell, cautiously and unsure, there was no answer, but he wasn’t about to give up that easily. So he just kept ringing.

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Dan the door finally opened. He climbed the stairs up to Sascha’s floor where he found him, leaning powerlessly against the doorframe, and Dan was shocked. He’d never seen Sascha looking like this - so completely drained of energy, without a flicker of mischief in his green eyes. Instead of standing tall his shoulders were hunched over, his cheeks glistened wet and even behind the glasses Dan could see that his eyes were red and swollen. He wore a shirt of the IBVA that seemed a bit older, but wasn’t too suspicious, until he turned around to make his way into his apartment, revealing a big brazilian flag on the back, and Dan understood that it was probably an old shirt of Marcelo, who was of brazilian origin.

“Oh, Sascha,” Dan murmured as he followed him inside, closing the door behind him. Sascha didn’t even say a word as he let himself fall onto his couch, gesticulating vaguely for Dan to take a seat as well.

Afterwards, Sascha was completely quiet, staring off into space motionlessly, and Dan was busy taking in his surroundings. There were several tissues thrown about on the living room table. Sascha’s laptop peeked out under some of them, still blinking, indicating that it had just been closed and pushed away mindlessly. The TV was running, showing a beach volleyball match that Dan had been sure was chosen randomly, until he realized that it was an old one of Marcelo and his partner.

Dan sighed, unsure of what to do, but then he got up and decided some tea wouldn’t hurt. He’d been in Sascha’s kitchen a few times, so it didn’t take him too long to make some.

When he got back into the living room Sascha hadn’t moved an inch and when Dan gently handed him the mug it took him a few moments to even become aware of his presence. Dan sat down again as well, observing worriedly as Sascha cradled the hot mug in his hands. He was sure there were new tears running down the youngster’s cheek and for a second, he wished he’d taken Phil’s offer to come over as well.

He had no idea how to handle this, what to do or what to say. Everything that came to mind seemed useless, meaningless. He felt completely powerless. Phil, caring, empathetic Phil would’ve known how to handle the situation, he was sure of it; but he took a deep breath and threw all of his anxiety over saying the wrong thing right out of the window. Anything was better than utter silence.

“Sascha…” he started, turning towards his friend now, one leg perched up on the couch. His voice was deep and rhusty, worry so evident in it he had to suppress a wince. He didn’t say more than that, but the intent was clear.

Sascha didn’t answer at first, but at least he moved to take a cautious sip from his tea, which Dan counted as a win. Then, when Dan had already given up hope, he started talking.

“How did you know?” he asked, not even looking at Dan, who sighed. “That you have feelings for him? Honestly, it doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”

Sascha’s response was a humorless laugh. “That obvious, huh.”

“Yeah.”

Another moment of silence passed and Dan took his mug of tea into his hands as well, looking at the TV to keep himself from looking at Sascha, who seemed like a wild animal - any sound or direct eye contact could have him running in the opposite direction. For a second he was tempted to text Phil - but deep down he knew he could do this, and that it had to be him. Sascha definitely had a reason to not talk to Phil about it, and Dan would honour that.

“Please talk to me.”

Dan really didn’t think it would work, but it finally seemed like he’d gotten through to the normally so confident youngster.

“I don’t even know why I still have hope. I just get knocked down over and over again. When will I accept the truth?”

Dan physically flinched hearing the defeat in his voice. He’d been through a lot with Sascha already, had grown as a person and stronger as an athlete, and after the initial hesitance, he’d also grown closer to Sascha as well. Seeing something hurting him like that - it made him hurt too. And it made him think of Phil, and how lucky he was to at least know his feelings were reciprocated, even if he’d chosen not to act on them. He’d be okay.

The question was, would Sascha be?

“I just can’t believe it’s one sided. The way he looks at you….” He trailed of, making a vague gesture with the hand not holding the mug. He wasn’t sure if it was wise to give Sascha even more hope after everything, but Dan just wasn’t ready to give up. He’d get behind this, and then he’d get them together, even if it’d be the last thing he’d do.

“I don’t know, Dan, I just - I just don’t understand what’s going on. It’s like - Like…” He stumbled over his words, and when Dan looked over he could see there were new tears shining in the corner of his eye. He took a deep breath.

“When I first met him, I never thought - I never even imagined. We didn’t talk a lot, simply because we never ran in the same circles, you know? But then the shit happened with my girlfriend and… He saw me, during strength training, asked me what was wrong, and I just… I felt like I could trust him. So I told him everything. And he told me I was worth more than that. More than the person she wanted me to be. And he said it in a way that…” He visibly faltered for a moment, shooting Dan a quick look before taking a deep breath.

“He looked deep into my eyes. Like I was the most important thing in the world. Like he was able to see what she couldn’t.”

Again there was a pause, and Dan didn’t even dare to move. Sascha seemed so fragile, like the most gentle breeze could scatter him into a million directions.

“Looking back, I think I started fancying him then,” he whispered, almost soundlessly.

The following silence was so looming, so comprehensive it made Dan shudder. It was pretty clear to him that Sascha had never said it out loud before, and it meant a big deal, so he waited patiently for him to continue.

“After I broke up with my girlfriend we truly started talking, and to hang out. He was so nice and easy going, so awkward and adorable, we were interested in the same things and we just - clicked. We grew so close, but every time I think This is it he just… backtracks. He’ll look into my eyes and hold my hand like we’re a couple, like he has feelings for me, and the next thing I know he calls me his brother. And still I-” He stopped short, choking down, and Dan intuitively scooted closer.

“You should say it,” Dan prodded softly. “It might help.”

Still in tears, Sascha looked up to meet Dan’s eyes.

“And still I love him,” he choked out between sobs, then he broke down.

_________

Surprisingly, not a lot changed after that. Dan and Sascha were closer than before, sure; and during training or hangouts when Marcelo would look a certain way or sit closer to Sascha than strictly necessary they would exchange looks, have entire conversations with nothing but their eyes. After practice, whenever they didn’t do things as a group, Dan and Sascha would come together, watch a movie, play video games - be there for each other.

Dan himself was doing pretty good. He and Phil had been growing close as well, but Dan tried to mostly refrain from being alone with him, and so far, it seemed to be working. Sure, sometimes he mourned for the what if , but mostly he was just happy to have gained a friend as amazing as Phil was.

He knew, though, that Sascha needed him. The youngster hadn’t been particularly happy with the situation - or over all. Dan had to stand on the sidelines and watch as his best friend became more closed up and silent by the minute, at least around Marcelo, and he didn’t feel good about that. He didn’t understand what Marcelo was doing, but that didn’t mean Dan wanted Sascha to completely lose someone so dear and close to him. On the other hand, he also understood why the youngster was spending less and less time with Marcelo.

Overall he felt like he was looking at a doom loop and he had no idea how to break it. The state of affairs dragged on for weeks. Dan and Sascha went through their first tournament together, which they ended on an amazing second place, and played against Sascha’s brother and his partner again, who they beat once more.

After the game, Mischa took Dan aside and asked for news, but Dan couldn’t give him anything. Marcelo on the other hand seemed to struggle to understand what was happening, continuously cornering Sascha and asking him what was wrong. The situation seemed to pain him considerably, too; but that made things just more confusing to him. How had the older man still not figured out what Sascha felt for him?

It took more than two months to break Dan. He’d had the same talks with Sascha over and over again - “Talk to him!” “I can’t! He can’t know what I feel for him, it would destroy everything!” - “It can’t go on like this. It’s starting to affect your play!” “It has to. I’ll just have to get over it.’’ - etcetera, and he’d had enough.

Dan also couldn’t imagine how things could get any worse, but he wasn’t about to tell Sascha that.

Sasch had lost his touch and was struggling to get it back, and Dan had to watch helplessly as he lost more and more motivation to Marcelo, so one Tuesday during one of his routine treatments from Phil after a particularly bad training - Dan kind of just... spit it out.

He knew it was wrong, somehow. But it wasn’t like he was able to stop himself, either.

“It’s so bad. My trainer averted his eyes, and I can’t even blame him. I can’t look at it anymore either,” he groaned when Phil asked him about how training was going. The physiotherapist halted in his movements, just for a moment, hardly noticeable, but Dan sensed it anyway.

“Why?” Phil asked before continuing working on his back. Dan was almost used to it by now, at least when it was unspectacular places like his back, so he didn’t even have to bite his lip anymore to keep down a moan.

The question confused Dan, just a bit, but it was like Phil’s calm and trustworthy presence had finally broken his self-imposed spell of silence on the matter. Sascha hadn’t particularly told Dan to stay quiet, but it might have been implied somewhere. He honestly couldn’t remember, and at this point he didn’t care. He couldn’t just stand by and watch as his best friend got more and more broken by the second. He’d kept silent and not done anything for too long. But not any more. Not for a second longer.

“Is that really a question? After the video? He’s in pieces. Every time I’m picking him up something happens and he’s breaking apart all over again.”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do. I’m completely helpless.”

Phil’s hands on his back stilled, then they vanished. “You’re done,” he croaked out, breathless, and took a step back as Dan sat up. He gulped visibly, then: “Get dressed. We’re going to my place, and then you’re telling me everything you know. I’m tired of this.”

______

“So, what you’re saying is - Sascha has actually had feelings for Marcelo the whole time?” Phil looked at him with wide eyes, so innocent and unaware Dan wanted to scream. How could someone be that pretty and that clueless at the same time?

Dan’s eyes felt like they were falling out of their sockets as he stared at Phil, completely dumbfounded. He wasn’t - he couldn’t actually - it wasn’t possible -

He was. He could. And yes, it was possible.

“Please don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“I had no idea!”

“Are you blind ?”

For a moment, Dan felt bad about it, but he got over it pretty quickly. Honestly, Phil kind of deserved it. The physiotherapist still looked shocked by the news but was now also blushing profusely, avoiding Dan’s eyes.

Dan sighed. “You cannot be serious, Phil.”

More blushing, then: “Marcelo said Sascha didn’t love him back. So I didn’t question it.”

Silence settled in until the words properly registered in his mind, then Dan’s head shot up, fixing Phil’s eyes in a gaze. “Back. So I’m right. Marcelodoes have feelings for him!”

Phil nodded, picking up the coffee mug he’d placed on the table in front of him and taking a huge sip while pressing his foot firmer into Dan’s thigh. “He’s been in love with Sascha for ages.”

Then he furrowed his brows, staring into the dark liquid like it held the answers to all his questions.

Dan wished .

“Wait, but if it was that obvious - he knows Sascha better than anyone else. He must have known about it. Why didn’t he tell me? Why did he lie? What is he doing?”

Dan sighed again. “That’s the one million dollar question, isn’t it. What’s Marcelo doing?”

_______

When Dan asked Sascha why he hadn’t talked to Phil about the situation yet, he told Dan he was scared the physiotherapist would tell Marcelo everything, so Dan cleared up the misunderstanding. Luckily, Sascha wasn’t mad at Dan for telling him, and the situation dragged on. The one good thing about it was that Dan was so enrolled in the mystery that Marcelo posed, he didn’t even have time to think about Phil - to question how close they had become. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that as soon as things were resolved he’d probably break down and throw himself at Phil like a lovesick fool, but he ignored it completely.

Maybe he was falling for Phil. Hard. So what? He’d just have to restrain himself. He’d been doing that for months now - what could possibly go wrong?

Never in the history had that sentence not lead to things going horribly wrong, but he ignored that as well.

As a team, Dan and Sascha continued to make progress, but as an individual, Sascha’s performance didn’t improve significantly. Sure he had trainings where things were going a bit better - for example when Marcelo was gone for a week, visiting his parents in Brazil and Dan kept him distracted as well as possible - but that wasn’t a lot. Overall, the brash, mischievous Sascha whom Dan had met months ago was missing in action.

It didn’t take long for Dan and Phil to start worrying. Group hangouts became less and less frequent and Sascha was asking for time alone, so they spent most of their time together, worrying about their friends and planning how to get them back on track. Sometimes, they’d put on a movie or play video games, and Dan’s restraint around Phil would falter, just for a moment, for a lingering touch or an endearing look, but he managed to keep it at that - as long as it wasn’t more it would be fine. As soon as his lips would touch Phil’s, though, it would be over, and all attempts of abstention would have been in vain.

Their attempts to get Sascha and Marcelo to talk were mostly unsuccessful. They refused to talk to each other openly, and that did not help calming Dan and Phil’s nerves. The first qualifying matches for the Olympics were approaching with big steps, and they knew: with Sascha being like this, they’d be lucky to even stand a chance.

That was why, only a month from their first match, Dan finally lost his patience. After practice he lured Marcelo into Phil’s treatment room and kept him there while Phil brought Sascha for his daily checkup. He sat them down onto a couch in the corner of the room, refusing all protests, and took a seat on some chairs facing them.

He and Phil shared a look, squeezing each other’s hand - something they had started doing only recently and completely without Dan’s conscious approval - then he took a deep breath and turned his attention to the men on the couch.

“Guys, we’ve been patient. Really patient. We’ve sat by and watched as you drift further and further apart, but it has to stop.”

“This is an intervention. You two need to talk and because you’re obviously not going to do that on your own, we’re forcing you to,” Phil explained further, and Dan nodded. The look of utter betrayal in Sascha’s eyes weighed heavy on Dan’s heart, but he knew that this was the only way. Sascha was too stubborn to try to improve the situation, and Marcelo had simply given up. Someone had to do something, and there was no one else that would.

“Anything one of you wants to share with the group?”, Dan asked, gesticulating with his hands like they were in group therapy, and Phil gave him a grin. The other two didn’t seem particularly impressed with this joke, though.

“I have nothing to say,” Sascha said, breathless, hardly making a sound, and Marcelo flinched like someone had punched him. “Who’s surprised,” he mumbled under his breath, and Sascha’s sharp, green eyes turned to him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was nothing but a hiss, low and dangerous, and Dan was glad it wasn’t directed at him. His partner was a few years younger than him, sure, but he was also tall and well trained and his look could be so sharp Dan swore it could pierce through skin.

“You haven’t talked to me in weeks!” Marcelo accused, and Dan and Phil shared a quick look. It was true, sure, but that didn’t mean Sascha’s silence wasn’t at least justified. They had tried to get him to talk as well, but they weren’t the ones causing the behaviour.

Sascha’s eyes narrowed and Dan swore the temperature in the room dropped at least ten degrees within a second. “That’s rich, coming from you,” he hissed, pure venom in his voice.

“Why?”

“Because you’re the goddamn reason!” Sascha blurted out forcefully, short of seething. “You’re the goddamn reason for everything! For me being distracted, for my sadness, for my performance dropping! You and that fucking video!”

“Sascha -”

“No! Just no! Not again! I’m tired of it, okay? I’m tired of all of it! Do you know what it does to me, every time you say something like this?” There were tears in the corners of his eyes and Dan unconsciously reached for Phil’s hand. It hurt him, too, and he didn’t have the strength to go through it alone.

“Do you know how fucking much it hurts ?”

For a second, it was silent, and Dan couldn’t help but look at Marcelo - who looked close to tears, obviously trying to avert Sascha’s eyes. “But -”

Sascha cut him off again, shaking his head silently. “No buts, Marcelo. Not again,” he said, his voice close to a whisper, and from one second to the next he looked so broken Dan couldn’t help but strengthen his grip on Phil’s hand.

Then he got up, attempting to leave the room. Dan was about to get up as well, to keep him there for just a second longer, just to give Marcelo a chance to explain, but the brazilian was behind Sascha and taking a hold of his wrist so fast Dan didn’t even have the time to move a muscle.

“That is not fair, Sascha. You were the one telling me off years ago and I can’t know you’d still react like that -”

“I did what?”

“Telling me off. During the first interview you did. Remember?”

Sascha shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“When the reporter asked you about the rumors concerning that woman you played a match with for charity. You laughed and told him she was too old for you anyways.”

Sascha blinked, obviously dumbfounded, but at least a lot calmer than before. “How could you have possibly applied that to yourself?”

Marcelo’s look was so sad Dan’s heart would’ve broken in his chest would he not be holding onto Phil’s hand for dear life.

“She’s exactly my age, Sascha. I got the message, bright and clear. I did my best to keep away from you and that aspect, I swear, but you’re just so irresistible and I was already so fucking much in love with you -”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Dan mumbled to himself, and the physiotherapist next to him nodded affirmatively, but the other two guys weren’t even aware of them anymore.

Sascha choked out a sob, tears streaming down his face as he continued to stare into Marcelo’s eyes. “You idiot,” he whispered without any malice, “It was never about you. I just wanted him to stop asking about her. Especially because I had feelings for you …”

That was the point where Dan had to avert his eyes, where the connection between Sascha and Marcelo became too much and he just felt like he was intruding on a private moment. He carefully tugged at Phil’s hand, gesturing him that they should go. So they did, leaving Sascha and Marcelo and any further developments alone.

____

Training was a lot better the following week. Sascha’s performance improved and went back to normal within minutes on court; he was able to concentrate, he smiled and laughed with Dan and his technique was back to top quality. Dan was more than relieved. The first qualifying tournament for Olympia was less than a month away and they needed to be at the top of their game.

Within the week after that, though, Dan got a feeling something was different - or, to be more precise, something wasn’t different. A specific something.

Sascha and Marcelo didn’t act differently at all. They were obviously back to being friends, sure, participating in group outings, joking with each other; but if anything, the touching had decreased . No teasing about their relationship, no suggestive comments, and definitely no kisses, not even on the cheek. Something was definitely not right.

He knew he needed Phil’s opinion, so during his physio-treatment - while desperately trying not to get a hard-on because Phil literally had his hands all over his body - he asked.

“What’s wrong with Sascha and Marcelo by the way?”

There was no hesitance in the hands kneading his left thigh dangerously close to his ass and Dan had to stifle a moan.

“What do you mean? Everything’s the same as before.”

“Exactly,” Dan answered with a raspy voice, trying to hide the pleasure. “Shouldn’t something be different?”

Phil was silent for a moment, switching from the thigh to the calf - slightly less dangerous territory - and Dan allowed himself to relax before the physiotherapist spoke again. “You know what? Now that I think about it… You might be right. They don’t act like a couple at all. Or, well, at least not more than usual.”

“Precisely.”

After twenty more minutes of treatment - and therefore, twenty more minutes of Dan feeling ridiculously underlaid - they agreed to do some digging.

The first task fell to Dan. Him and Phil had agreed that - after everything they’d been through with Sascha - it was unfair to not give him the chance to speak. So during their midnight run Dan asked Sascha about it, about the relationship and if they were in a romantic one, but the youngster’s answers were unsure and vague. After some prodding, he straight-up denied it, claiming him and Marcelo would “work better as friends”.

Needless to say that Dan was furious.

Just to confirm the story, Phil asked the same questions during morning practice, when both him and Marcelo were on the stands. The answers were pretty similar.

Both Dan and Phil were more than disappointed about that outcome. They got together for some Mario Kart that afternoon, and while Dan was half a round ahead and Phil was fighting for the third spot, they realized they couldn’t just… Leave it at that.

In reality, they could. They just refused not to. For their friends’ happiness, but also for their own pride.

“That can’t be it,” Dan observed as he was skillfully maneuvering around a banana peel on track, “They love each other. Why the fuck not start a relationship?”

Only after saying it out loud did he realize it was basically a stab into his own guts, and he was lucky Phil was too preoccupied with the game to look at him.

“True,” Phil confirmed, sticking out his tongue in concentration.

For a second, it was silent aside from the sounds of the game, then Dan made a decision as his car was driving past the finish line. “You know what? Not on my watch.”

Something misschievous glinted in Phil’s eyes when he turned to look Dan into the eyes. “No. Not on our watch.”

____

Two weeks later they were in the car on their way to their first Olympics-relevant tournament and nothing had changed. Nothing at all . They had tried (and, well, failed) to get them together multiple times, had shoved them together for practice, had given Sascha the opportunity to say something, but so far, all their attempts had been in vain. Not only Dan, but even the bubbly, optimistic Phil was rapidly losing confidence in their ability to meddle.

It was Marcelo’s shift to drive, so Sascha had, naturally, chosen to sit shotgun - “working better as friends” my ass , Dan thought - leaving the backseats to Dan and Phil.

Dan, sitting behind Sascha, hadn’t been paying a lot of attention - he was fairly occupied trying to get Phil to relax, with his car sickness and all - so when he looked forward for the first time, trying to get a look on their navi, and he saw a dark spot on the back of Sascha’s neck, almost at his shoulder, for a second he didn’t think anything of it. Then he processed what he’d seen and - Huh?

He couldn’t be sure, his view was obstructed by both Sascha’s hair and his shirt, but - he leaned over towards Phil, whispering in his ear. Phil’s face, slightly less green than before, showed surprise, then he exchanged a look with Dan, the same question in his eyes.

Is that… a hickey ?

___

The tournament went amazingly well. They’d survived the group phase and the first knock out round and were now on for the quarterfinals tomorrow. They’d agreed to have a light training session around midday, but Dan had spent the day hiding from Phil since they’d had a near slip-up the other night playing Fifa (Dan had lost, so he’d started tickling Phil and ended up closer to him than intended and almost kissed him), so he went directly to the training court instead of meeting the others at the hotel. When he arrived, Sascha and Phil were already there, laughing while Phil tried - and failed - to warm Sascha up.

When they noticed Dan, Sascha gave a wave and a grin, walking over to his bag to take a drink, but Phil came sprinting towards him through the deep sand. “That is Marcelo’s shirt,” he said in lieu of greeting, and Dan blinked dumbfounded before he understood what Phil was getting at.

He took a closer look at Sascha’s outfit, and sure enough he was wearing a light blue shirt with a Volleyball emblem on the breast pocket that he’d seen Marcelo wear before.

“Oh my god, you’re right. He wore it just two days ago!”

For neutral parties, it probably wasn’t a big deal, but to Dan and Phil, it definitely was. They were invested in this relationship - more than they would’ve thought before.

“Are we becoming fanboys?” Dan asked as they walked over to Sascha. Phil’s stunning blue eyes were glinting in the shining sun and for a moment Dan forgot how to breathe.

“Absolutely.”

___

Dan and Sascha made it through the quarterfinals relatively easy, beating their opponents in two straight sets. The match directly after was determining their semi-finals opponents, so Dan and Phil decided to stay to spy on them and get a feeling for how they were playing, but both Sascha and Marcelo chose to go back to the hotel, claiming they wanted to skype their families.

The stands built up for the sake of the tournament went up fairly high, and to be less likely to get spotted Dan and Phil decided to search for seats in a far up row, which were mostly empty. From up there, they had a really nice view of the ocean far off to one side - and, coincidentally, the hotel they were all staying in. They were looking straight at their floor and with it, their shared balcony - between the five of them, including the trainer, they occupied the whole side of the floor for themselves. The rooms were connected by a long, shared balcony, which made going over to one of the other rooms for a treatment or a talk with their coach a lot easier.

While the teams on court were still warming up Dan looked over to the hotel. He found Sascha at his balcony door, looking out to the court. He had changed into a red shirt and grey shorts shining brightly in the sun, and Dan softly elbowed Phil in the side an gesticulated for him to take a look as well.

They watched as Marcelo appeared behind Sascha with his boring white clothes immediately recognisable in the compared darkness of the room. He stepped closer to Sascha, reaching out with his hand, then Sascha let the curtain drop and the scene was out of view. Phil and Dan shared a look. Skyping their families, huh?

Throughout the game they kept a close eye on Sascha’s balcony door, but the curtain didn’t move again - until their tainer stepped onto the balcony, making his way to Sascha’s room. When he knocked on the glass nothing happened for a while. Then the door opened and Sascha stepped out in his red shorts and white shirt -

“He’s in different clothes than before!” Phil pointed out, voice somewhere between excited and surprised, and Dan’s eyes widened as he realized that Phil was right. “So - They went in together, no one comes out for half an hour, and now he’s suddenly in a completely different outfit, even though he’d been freshly showered before?!” Phil summarized and Dan nodded, dumbfounded.

“Well, that’s not fishy,” he mumbled, “Not fishy at all.”

___

When Marcelo showed up to dinner with a red shirt Dan and Phil were set on investigating further. Something was going on there and they wanted to know what it was.

Dan and Sascha finished third in the tournament, which was half the qualification norm for the Olympics, so they were happy with the outcome. They had around a week at home before they were leaving for the next tournament, and they didn’t do much else than relax and a bit of strength training and jogging.

Dan particularly despised the last part.

They spent the day before their anew departure together as a group, playing Mario Kart, Fifa and pictionary, and they had so much fun Dan’s belly hurt from all the laughing. When Sascha beat Marcelo in Mario Kart, the brazilian reached over, tickling the youngster, and Phil gave Dan a look of oh my god they’re so adorable I can’t even that Dan had to agree with.

Two hours later both Sascha and Marcelo had left - “to do the rest of packing”, sure Jan , Dan thought - and only Phil had stayed, wanting to help with the cleanup. Everything had stayed completely innocent so far, and Dan mentally patted himself on the back for being so resistant - he hadn’t reacted to either Phil’s flirting nor to his continuous physical contact. He was strong.

Until he wasn’t.

They were just finishing up the dishes. Dan was at the sink, washing the rest of the glasses and plates when Phil reached up to the cupboard directly above Dan’s head, leaning so far over his body they were touching basically everywhere. Dan could feel the blood rushing into his cheeks and somewhere lower, tightly gripping the edge of the sink - for support or to keep himself from moving, he wasn’t sure - and he stayed determined, he really did, but then -

Then Phil’s breath hit the skin on his neck and it was all over.

He turned around in a flash, exchanging a short, meaningful look with Phil, then he was kissing him and his world was turning upside down. Nothing was as it had seemed before. His self restraint vanished in a vortex of gold, his brain left his body and all that was left was lust and love.

Fuck it, he loved that guy, had had for a long time; and he’d always known all restraint would be lost as soon as his lips touched Phil’s.

His life was flashing in front of his closed eyelids as he passionately kissed Phil, showing him all the lost opportunities that they could’ve spent making out, showing him what he had missed out on. But he didn’t even have the mental capacity to process it - he didn’t have the mental capacity to do anything . He had lost all connection to his body, was nothing but a spiritual being flowing through time and space with Phil right by his side.

Within a single heartbeat he decided he didn’t care about his stupid rules and his stupid logic. If he wanted to be with Phil - and he did - then he should be, whether he was going for gold or not. It wouldn’t make him stronger, but it wouldn’t make him weaker, either; if anything, it would serve as a further incentive.

Between ragged breaths and erratic heartbeats he paused his frantic movements, keeping Phil’s face in his hands and looking him straight into the bright blue eyes. “I love you.” Opposed to the shaking of his body his voice was firm and sure, and for a second, the colour of Phil’s eyes seemed to flare brighter than ever before.

“I love you, too,” he said softly, a few tears swimming in his eyes and a smile on his lips so sweet it could give half the world population diabetes just from looking at it.

Dan stared into Phil’s eyes and somehow, the world around them vanished. Then, suddenly, he was falling, but not down, no; he was falling up, higher and higher, until he shot through a layer of clouds and all that existed was blue, blue, blue .

It took him quite some time to escape the pull of Phil’s eyes, but when he did, he sprung straight back into action - straight back to kissing and touching and… More .

The next morning, when he woke up to the colour of Phil’s eyes there was just one word on his mind. “Boyfriends?”

Phil’s eyes glinted stunningly in the rising sun, and Dan knew he’d remember this day forever. “Boyfriends.” ____

This time, the tournament was on another continent, so they went there by plane. Phil slept through almost the whole flight and Dan was busy trying to not gush about how cute he was.

They had decided to not tell Marcelo and Sascha in passing, waiting to do it over dinner when they had arrived at their destination instead. After Sascha had shown up at the airport wearing one of Marcelo’s shirts yet again they also wanted to confront them about their observations. Dan didn’t even care that they’d sound like crazy fanboys.

Well, at least not a lot.

Due to time zones it was early in the morning when they arrived, but they all decided to get some sleep anyway. When Dan woke up in time for dinner Phil was laying cuddled into his side, snoring sweetly, and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Phil’s forehead before he got up. Thankfully, Phil was a heavy sleeper, so he just continued sleeping, giving Dan time to have a long, relaxing shower - or so he’d thought. In reality, Phil joined him halfway through, but it wasn’t like he minded. On the contrary.

When they went down for dinner both Marcelo and Sascha were already there, staring at each other over the table like they were the only people in existence. Phil sighed dreamily, giving Dan another They’re so cute look, and Dan had to stifle a giggle. His boyfriend was a major fanboy.

Boyfriend.

Dan’s heartrate picked up at the thought. Even thinking it made him happy.

When they had sat down and ordered Dan and Phil exchanged a look, quietly taking hold of each other’s hand under the table. “Phil and I -” Dan started but was unsure of how to continue, how to word what he wanted to say. He was nervous and excited and the previously picked out words jumbled together into a wild storm of letters that he had no idea how to decipher.

Thankfully, Phil was less concerned by the whole thing.

“We’re together now. And we’re really happy.”

It was quiet at the table as Sascha and Marcelo looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

“We know,” Sascha said, slowly and clearly, like he wasn’t sure about Dan and Phil’s mental state.

Dan sputtered. “Wha - What?”

“How did you know?” Phil asked, more interested than surprised, and Dan blinked at him in shock. Why did it not shock him? Was everyone going insane?!

“It’s been obvious for weeks now,” Marcelo explained calmly and finally, Dan understood, relaxing immediately.

He let out a short laugh. “We’re together since last night. Or the night before, depending on the time zone we’re going with.”

Marcelo and Sascha blinked in complete unison, making Phil giggle. “But-”

“Is that why you didn’t tell us you are together as well? Because you were mad we didn’t tell you?” Dan asked, a lightbulb going off above his head. He paused for a moment before he added: “You guys are together, right?”

Both him and Phil started grinning like a fool when the others nodded. Oh, how he loved it when things finally made sense, and when things turned out the way he planned them too. He gave Phil a high five in celebration, then he turned to Sascha and Marcelo, still grinning. “You’re idiots.”

They at least had the decency to look shameful.

“We’re all idiots,” Phil corrected and the others couldn’t help agreeing. They clinked glasses with champagne a few minutes later, and Phil literally cooed as his inquire made Marcelo lean over the table and give Sascha a passionate kiss.

They shared a lot of laughter and fun that night, and Dan had a better time than ever before. He looked at his group of friends with happiness and pride, and he had never felt more content in life.

____

A few weeks later him and Phil finally had the time to go on their first official date. The days had been crazy, packed and busy, but they’d been the best of Dan’s life. The letter with his official invitation to the Olympics weighed heavily in his pocket when he entered the old, 50s themed diner. The place looked decisively vintage with its off-white walls decorated with vinyls, black and white checkered tiles on the ground and lamps hanging from the ceiling.

The jukebox up front was playing Cry Me A River as they slid into their booth, Phil on the other side of the table. They both grinned as they mouthed along to the song. The glowing red neon lights brought out the blue in Phil’s eyes so stunningly Dan once again was blinded by their beauty.

They shared a milkshake with two straws like they were in one of these cheesy romance novels Dan had always despised, but somehow he didn’t care anymore. He embraced the romantic cliches like they were old friends - simply because with Phil, it all seemed okay. Phil had step by step teared down all of his walls and rules, what was one more in this jumble of new experiences and feelings and happiness?

He let his fingers skim over the paper in his pocket as he looked into Phil’s eyes, only listening half-heartedly as Phil rambled on about one thing or the other, an utterly lovestruck look on his face. Maybe he didn’t have gold yet, but within the last few months he’d gained and accomplished more than he’d ever dreamed of. Still, it had only been the beginning, he knew it. He was happy with Phil, Sascha was happy with Marcelo, they were happy as a group, and in a few weeks, they’d have a shot at winning gold.

Their future was golden, one way or the other.

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic au #my writing #this only took me forever #gosh I hope you guys like it

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wakandaforeverwrites · 7 years ago

Text

Learn Ya || Chapter 2

Tag List: @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @rose-bliss @theunsweetenedtruth @cancerianprincess @wakanda-inspired @aykanna @supersizemeplz@ayellepea @Ijstraightnochaser @chaneajoyyy @vanitykocaine @blowmymbackout @slimmiyagi @kissmyafropuff @beautifulqueenflaws

Chapter 1

Warnings: None other than this another long chapter

Amaya spent most of her night tossing and turning with little sleep to follow all because of one person: T’Challa. Getting him off her mind proved harder than she had anticipated, taking away her night of restful sleep. So it was no surprise that she was on her third cup of coffee by the time that lunch rolled around. She had bags under her eyes that even her thick, full coverage concealer couldn’t mask. The coffee wasn’t doing anything but give her the jitters while making her stomach hurt. She was irritable and there was no sign of her temperament improving. She was just glad that Charlie wasn’t there to talk her ear off like she had been yesterday when she came back from the break room.

For the rest of her shift, Charlie bombarded her with questions, making Amaya go through every detail of her encounter with T’Challa. She wouldn’t let her leave out even the smallest moment. Charlie was damn near squealing when she went over the way he kissed her hand. She was so excited, probably more excited than Amaya herself. She swore up and down that he had been flirting with her heavily but Amaya wasn’t convinced. In her mind he was probably just being nice. He was too far out of her league.

She really needed to stop thinking about him. She had only talked to him once and yet he was on her mind far too much. It was ridiculous. She needed to get a grip. She was acting like some little kid who was getting all starry eyed over her first crush. She was a grown ass woman who wasn’t going to keep acting like this over some man. Albeit the sexiest man she had probably encountered in her life.

She tried to push back the thoughts of the way he licked his lips and the things it did to her when he did, but it wasn’t easy. She shifted in her seat, the urge to bang her head against the desk was strong. Instead, she decided to use food to distract herself. The plastic to the bag of Hot Cheetos rattled loudly as she opened it, but no one even batted an eyelash in her direction. There was no rule against eating at the desk so she always took full advantage of it.

She leaned back in her chair and flipped through the book in her lap. Her school had sent out an email to all the incoming first year law students with a list of recommended reading to do over the summer. It wasn’t mandatory but it was heavily implied that students who did the reading were more likely to make it through the first year and less likely to drop out. Basically it was either devote the summer to doing the boring reading and be a little less stressed out during the school year or have a lit summer but have a nervous breakdown by midterms. Amaya decided on the former.

But as she had to go back and reread the same paragraph for the fifth time because she had no idea what the hell she had just read, she started to question just how invested she really was in being a lawyer. Here she was, in the prime of her young adult life and should be out there going to parties and living her best life, but law school was sucking up the majority of her free time and class hadn’t even started yet. She could only imagine where she would be five or so years from now. She’d probably have a few cats by then because she’d be too busy to have any relationship outside of the ones with family.

Someone cleared their throat, breaking her train of thought but not enough to have her look up to see who it was. “Welcome to The Wakandan International Outreach Centre. Directories and maps are located by the front entrance if you are lost.” Her voice came out clipped, mostly because they had interrupted the bite she was getting ready to take and she had to flick the Cheeto back into the bag so she didn’t appear to be completely rude. They cleared their throat again, a little louder this time. She slammed her book closed with far more force than was needed, huffing and biting back the urge to cuss out whoever it was. “How can I help you?”

She all but threw her book down on the desk and looked up. Her anger disappeared and her eyes went wide when she found T’Challa standing there with his brows raised.

“T’Challa...I mean Sir… I mean what are you doing here?” She sat up a little straighter in her chair, finding a napkin to wipe the red dust from her fingers.

“Are you usually this,” he hesitated for a second, rolling his lips together, “Blunt with guests?”

“No, not usually. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” She rubbed her hands against the rough material of her jeans.

“Perhaps your mood would improve if you were to eat food with actual nutritional value.” He tilted his head over the desk a little with his eyes on the half eaten bag of hot chips. “Those things will kill you.”

She rolled her eyes as she rolled the bag up and tucked it back into her bag. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” The words came out before she even knew what she was saying. Her only saving grace was that she mumbled them more to herself and she could only hope that the way he raised his brow was more about her muttering under her breath than her actual words. “So, what exactly are you doing here? You don’t usually have two visits in a row. Not that I know your schedule or anything.”

“I decided that a second look at things was needed.” It wasn’t so much what he said. It was more the way that he said it. There was a heavy implication in his words that was hard for her ignore.

“And are you finding everything to your liking so far?” He leaned against the desk and she watched the way his arms flexed beneath the sleeves of his suit jacket. She knew she was finding everything to her liking.

“For the most part, yes.” He nodded his head once.

“Is there something I can do to make your visit more pleasurable?” She pressed her lips together before she said anything. Her hormones were getting the better of her.

“Pleasurable?” A slow smile spread across his lips and she stared at them for a few seconds too long to be considered polite.

“That came out wrong. What I meant to ask was there anything I could do to make your visit more productive.” Despite wanting to sink into the floor because she had once again embarrassed herself and gotten flustered around him, she didn’t look away.

“Has your mood improved so much that now you would like to be helpful?” She was taken aback a little at how blunt he was being but the subtle twitch as the corner of his delicious looking mouth gave her reason to think he was joking.

“Maybe I just needed the right company to put me in a better mood, Sir.” She licked her lips slowly as she shucked off her jacket. The otherwise usually cool building suddenly felt all too warm.

“I see.” His gaze travelled down to the faint amount of cleavage that was now exposed, but it was so quick that she thought that she might have imagined it. “Do you enjoy my company enough to go to lunch with me?”

His question caught her completely off guard and she was stuck, unsure of what to say. Here she had been thinking he was just being nice to her. Maybe Charlie was right and he had been flirting with her.

“Before I answer that, I have a question I need to ask you.”

“You may ask.” She blinked a few times. Him giving her permission was, for some odd reason, sexy to her. Even if she wasn’t exactly asking.

“Have you been flirting with me?”

“Yes.” His answer was short and sweet and came with no hesitation at all. “And you have reciprocated this. Am I wrong in that assumption.”

“No, Sir. You’re not wrong. I don’t really know too many people that wouldn’t flirt with you.”

“Good. Now that we have gotten that out of the way, lunch?” She had almost gotten about that. She started to grab her things before standing from her chair. “Your jacket?”

“Actually I’m kinda hot.” Standing next to him, she felt a little underdressed. Her basic jeans and yellow crop top didn’t exactly go with his suit. “Do you always wear a suit?”

“There’s a certain image I must maintain being a king and all.” He smiled at her.

“You know, most people don’t exactly wear suits around here. Unless they’re going to court.” Even as they walked, Amaya found it hard to keep her eyes off of him.

He stopped dead in his tracks and she had to double back when she realized she was a few steps ahead of him. He undid the two buttons of his jacket and shrugged it off with more grace than she had seen from a man. With the jacket tucked over his arm, he spoke. “Is that better?”

She vaguely heard him speaking but she couldn’t focus on anything other than the snug fit of his shirt across his board chest. It looked like it was made specifically with him in mind, hugging his body and showing off his well defined arms. She mumbled a ‘fuck’ to herself as she continued to stare. She was damn near in a daze that only his hand waving in front of her face could bring her out of.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.” She tore her eyes away from his chest so she could look him in the eye.

“I asked if that was better, but now I’m asking if you’re alright?” His brows sat lower on his face as he furrowed them.

“Yeah, I’m..whew I’m good.” She made the ‘okay’ gesture with her fingers, hoping that her words sounded believable even as she tripped all over them in her attempt to get them out.

He narrowed his eyes and searched her face. She had to do all that she could to keep herself from squirming under his watch. “If you say so.” He didn’t sound all that convinced but he said nothing else as he began to walk again.

They were just about to walk out the door when Amaya remembered that there was no one to cover her at the front desk. “Shit!”

“Are these kinds of outbursts normal for you, Amaya?”

“There’s no one to watch the desk.” She turned to walk back but stopped when she saw one of the guys who was usually tutoring kids sitting in one of the chairs behind the desk.

His hand grazed along her arm for a second. Just long enough to turn her attention back to him. “As you can see, it’s been handled.”

He gestured for her to walk through the door as he held it open for her. She wanted to ask if he had been the one that made sure things were handled but she held her tongue. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know the answer to that question.

“Have you ever tried the diner down the street? They have really good cheeseburgers if you’re into that sort of thing.” Just thinking about them had her stomach growling.

“If that’s where you would like to go then you should ask.” He looked at her as he took a step closer, and when he did, she didn’t take a step back.

“Okay, then can we eat there?” Her hands went to her hips as she tapped her foot on the ground.

“You’re forgetting something.” She took note of the small way his nostrils flared.

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are, Amaya. Most people say please when there is something that they want.” His voice was low, coming out as nothing more than a rumble.

“Let’s say for argument's sake that I don’t say it. Then what happens?” She tilted her head to the side.

“Then I will escort you back to your desk and we will be done here. If you want something, you will ask nicely for it.” She felt each word, the gruff tone in his voice doing something to her that she couldn’t quite explain.

“That’s a little demanding.” She chewed at the inside of her cheek, heat radiating through her body.

“Yes, it is.” He didn’t seem to be the least bit ashamed of it. He blinked and looked at her as if he was waiting for something. Waiting for her to ask nicely as he put it.

She followed her arms across her chest. He was standing so close that she felt him brush against her forearms, but she didn’t back down. She could smell how just how good he smelled. She wanted to let out a swear because if she had one weakness in life, it was a good looking man that smelled even better. She was set in being stubborn, but the longer he stared at her, the less stubborn she began to feel. He held her gaze, silently challenging her in her way that was making her feel even hotter than she had been already.

Finally she rolled her eyes and blowing out a forceful breath through her nose, “Fine. Please?”

“We’ll have to work on your manners at a later date.” His mouth twitched a little. “But for now, we will eat.”

No other words were spoken between the two of them until they were seated in a booth. The smell of greasy food that was completely bad for her had Amaya’s stomach growling and rumbling. She eyed the menu even though she knew exactly what she wanted because she could feel his eyes on her, and after their last staring contest, she wasn’t ready for another one so soon.

“How long have you been working at the centre?” His voice brought her attention from the menu to him. For a second.

“I got an internship for my sophomore year of undergrad and the social justice department seemed like a good fit at the time since I was a poly sci major. I’ve been there ever since.” She stared at the menu intently as if she hadn’t seen it a thousand times before this.

“You say at the time. Is it no longer a good fit for you?” She peeked over the top of the menu to find him staring right back at her.

“No, it still is.” She closed her menu as a waitress came up to their table, greeting them and asking what they would like to order. “I’ll have a cheeseburger and as many fries as you can put on a plate, please.”

The waitress turned to T’Challa, expecting him to order, but he had never looked at the menu. His eyes were still on Amaya. “I’ll have what she’s having. Thank you.” He waited until the waitress disappeared from their table. “So you can say please to her with no questions?”

“She wasn’t nearly as demanding.” She had to press her lips together to keep herself from smiling. She was used to using humor to ease a tense situation and there was always some kind of heavy air, thick with tension, that seemed to fall over the two of them.

“Do you not like someone being demanding?” He leaned forward on the table, his hands underneath his chin.

Feeling just a little bit bolder, she mirrored his actions. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then why all the push back, Amaya?” She really did like the way he said her name. She didn’t know that three little syllables could sound so sexy.

“Keeps things interesting.”

“Or it will land you into trouble.” The gruff tone was back in his voice, making her shift in her seat.

“And what kind of trouble will it land me in if I continue, Sir?” Her eyes searched his face for some sort of hint at what his answer would be.

“Would you like to find out?” She could see something stir behind his dark eyes.

She wanted to blurt out that she most definitely wanted to find out. She was seconds away from doing so when she remembered that she barely knew this man and here she was flirting so openly with him. She needed to control over herself. She never acted like this. She could only assume the cause of this sudden change in her was the man sitting across from her. She didn’t know how to explain it. The words were lost on her, but there something about him. It was still no excuse. Regardless of how comfortable she may have felt, he was still practically a stranger to her.

“So what’s it like to be a king?” She cleared her throat, slowly leaning back in her seat and trying to place some distance between him and herself.

He sat there in complete silence for a few seconds before he let out a loud laugh. She couldn’t help but smile as he laughed. He did so so openly, his smile taking over his entire face. She found herself liking the sight probably more than she should. There was no denying that she was attracted to him, but she knew acting on that attraction would be a bad idea.

“Is that really what you want to know?” He asked her when finally stop laughing.

“Actually, yeah. I really want to know. I’m curious about Wakanda….and you.” The look that crossed his face at her words was almost one of surprise. She wanted to ask if people didn’t ask about him on a personal level often but she never got the chance.

“Amaya? Girl, I thought that was you.” Her shrill voice was like nails on a chalkboard and she wore a shit eating grin with Amaya looked at her. In her rush to her food, she had forgotten the bitch worked here.

“What do you want, Cherise?” Her hands clenched around the edge of the table to keep from rocking her jaw. She wasn’t pregnant anymore and Amaya had been waiting for the day she got to beat her ass, but in front of T’Challa wasn’t the place or the time.

“I just wanted to come say hi. Does Rod know you’re here?” Her eyes fell on T’Challa and her smile got even bigger. “I’m going to assume that he doesn’t. I’m Cherise. Who are you?” He only looked at her, an unimpressed look on his face.

“I suggest you move along before I forget you have kids at home.” Her jaw clenched. Her patience was wearing thin.

“Rod’s kids you mean? I’ll make sure to tell him you said hey when he comes by tonight.” Cherise was only saved when she walked away from the table because Amaya was seconds away from grabbing a fistful of her long braids and dragging her up and down the diner, wiping the floor with her fake ass.

“Was that a friend of yours?”

“How exactly do you think I treat my friends?” The anger hadn’t exactly subsided and when she looked at him, she did so with a glare.

“Very well,” he paused for a moment. “And who is Rod?”

Up until that point, she had forgotten all about Rod. He had been the furthest thing from her mind. Hearing his name, brought everything back into startling clarity. She was cheating. She tapped her fingers against the top of the table, trying to find the words, but the words found her instead as she blurted out, “My boyfriend.”

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