#so it was so good to see them finally advance past that!!

[chiisana-sukima]

if heaven/hell hadn't been vying for the apocalypse, do you think sam ever would have reasonably had a shot at escaping / having an actually good and healthy life? just curious about your opinion! :)

I think the root problem was Azazel, and that neither Sam nor Dean could've done better than they did in canon as long as the instigating event of Azazel's deal with Mary remained unchanged. Plotwise, as long as Azazel still wants Sam to rule Hell's armies, everything is still essentially the same up to the point when Dean goes to Hell and Sam is killing himself with drugs and alcohol trying to get there too.

Ruby's machinations are the first thing that would've gone differently in a No Apocalypse universe, and although Jared didn't start playing Sam as having overt, symptomatic PTSD until after the Cage, even without Ruby this is still a man for whom the only way out is through. He would've gotten himself to Hell one way or another, simply because he couldn't tolerate having Dean there in his stead. And given time in Hell as an inevitability for both of them, I can imagine it ending worse than canon, but I can't imagine it ending better.

In the bad (complimentary) spn in my head, the most likely outcome would be that since there would be no rescue from Cas, Dean would be a demon by the time Sam managed to get to him and Sam would eventually end up the King of Hell in order to protect Dean. The CW's spn I don't think would go that far, but before the first writers' strike cut s3 short, they were planning on having Sam go "fully darkside" (whatever that means) to rescue Dean, so I can't see that ending well either.

I want to specify though that I think Sam did get out and live a good, relatively healthy life. He died at home of natural causes at what appears to be a reasonably advanced age, with his apparently well-adjusted adult son at his bedside. Since the cycle of violence in spn is represented by failure to accept the death of loved ones (Mary->John, John->Mary, Sam->Jess, Dean->Sam, Sam->Dean, Dean->Sam again, etc), the reversal at the end with Dean asking Sam to let him go, Sam doing so, closing down the bunker, and having his own child who as an adult lets him go in turn, represents the end of the Winchester curse.

I don't think Sam ever recuperated 100%. He names his kid Dean after all, which is touching, but also kind of concerning given Everything. And the shrine of dead family pictures with no photos of living family to balance it out is a bit weird.

But, blurriness of his gender-nonconforming husband wife notwithstanding, this is a montage of a good life:

He's happy. His son is happy. He goes to parks and has a home and is proud of his son for studying and playing catch.

I assume the Sam of this montage still has PTSD. Jared still has MHIs irl and still sees a therapist after however many years, and he was the one who embodied Sam's PTSD for us on screen. I still have PTSD that I got when I was 10, and I'm 60 now and my daughter is 27. It's a disability. But the hard parts don't mean you haven't had a good life in total. Barely pulling through at 38(-ish, the age Sam was when Dean died his final death) doesn't mean your disability won't be well-managed at 48 or 58.

A lot of Sam fans feel that because when Sam died his Heaven was back with Dean, sitting in the passenger seat of Dean's car, listening to Dean's music, presumably following where Dean leads, without Dean first having had a chance to grow beyond the damage he had and passed on to others, it means Sam didn't escape his past. Tbh I think this interpretation is valid. I don't think any of the writers of spn through the years could imagine a story in which the members of a relationship are truly equals, treat each other as equals, and are treated by the narrative of their story as equals. We live in a society.

But I'm not naive by any stretch, and I nonetheless can imagine it, I'm better than them, so I'm satisfied. I don't want a revival, and the more time goes by for J2M to grow out of a plausible age range to set the revival before the finale, the less I want one, for precisely this reason. I prefer my own version of the future.

[sylhea-raemi]

next shiraishi an event is gonna be bout for beside you part 2 with worse trust issues (thanks ken), worse abandonment issues, worse inferiority feeling

[evilminji]

Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?

And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!

Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???

JUST SOME DUDE™!

Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?

On the SURFACE!

This place seems utopian!

No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!

Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!

Cause see?

There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?

Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)

Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.

Through the Zone.

Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.

They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?

And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!

If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.

No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.

Just? Imagine~☆

The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"

Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.

He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.

They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏

I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.

As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.

I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.

He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.

And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.

Either, Or.

I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.

There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!

@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation

[kooyabooya]

BABYLON

m reader x sana // 26k words

Almighty hand to God, there had been much, much worse situations to get yourself stuck in. 

If there’s any sort of consolation to fall back on, you’d wish that you’d say something earlier, call this off with a simple push and shove on the way out the door, close it and wrap up nicely with no worry filling your mind. 

It’s not that easy, though. 

Never was to begin with. 

Not when you have the lights off in your study, the sound of laughs downstairs surrounding the dining table, really fucked how you’ve hidden away from everyone else - also wanting to at the same time because all of them would have the same thread of thoughts running through their head if they saw you at the front of your desk with another body pressed towards you. 

“Don’t get so worked up,” Sana tells you, lips fast across your neck while her singular hand is well deep into the grip of your shaft. You could feel her breath slip through the opening when her lips are back on yours, the taste of her is already addicting the more she leans, a hand in her hair trying to give more, fighting, but losing drastically. 

What you give, Sana takes. That’s usually how it works in most cases like these with her. You can’t stop, you won’t stop. It’s already difficult to break away once she’s lowering your inhibitions without the use of alcohol. 

“Maybe I should deal with you right now instead of later,” you tell her, hiding the smallest hint of worry when your hands find Sana’s hips. She’s proud of the sigh she lets out against your mouth when pulling away before you’re quick to drag her back in. “Let the whole world below know of the things you’re doing to me right now?” 

You won’t stop giving in, because Sana gets you. Just like that. 

“Have them screaming in shock when you bend me over the desk fucking me?” Sana asks, a tempting offer above a whisper at that. It also doesn’t help that she’s giggling at the thought of you doing exactly what she proposes. “Sounds hot,” she says, huskily, “because I know you would.” 

This was never supposed to happen. Hell, this was the last thing you expected to happen. All of the possibilities in repercussions start flowing through your head again because this was definitely not the first time you’ve surrendered yourself to Sana’s advances, nor that you didn't want to. 

She’s like quick sand, pulling you from underneath into the catacombs of temptations that would have Satan himself impressed if he could see you right now. Or how this woman at her fingertips is breaking down every last bit of rational support running through your brain just so that she can draw out the rasps of desperation to get her screaming, shuddering. 

You could lower the flag and raise up the drawbridges - it’s so easy to do. She’s playing all of her cards right, knowing that your hand would never stack up against hers. 

Forget calling a bluff in this house of cards, since the only play you have in your book is to fold. 

–

You see, the events that happened before the wildfire were relatively tame. 

Nothing but wins coming left and right in the avenue of your life. Speaking of avenues, there’s this newly acquired house (all thanks to your surprisingly good credit score) alongside this block that has a new occupant–

“Babe, the place is amazing!” Dahyun exclaims out, arms around your neck once you and her finally make it past the front porch, taking in the high ceilings and matte layout of the new space. All of this wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the countless days and hours of work to achieve this milestone. You’ll be proud of yourself for settling down while others may be working for bigger goals and ambitions. 

(A minor correction: two new occupants.)

The house itself is in a nice area. Not too far from the city, in a pretty well modest community, alongside the hills. Detailing is pretty modern: four bedrooms, three bathrooms, two stories, kitchen was renovated before signing off the lease, ideas for rooms themselves are already drafting from Dahyun’s pinterest board. Knowing that your wife has some good taste, it wasn’t worth deliberating over. You’ve gone through the gauntlet of places in different areas: beachside, close by to your cousins, one was also about a two hour trip away from the city, there’s also this high rise apartment that would’ve been a perfect choice though it never happens. 

There’s some scattered boxes here and there still, but most of the things are already in place from the whole moving process. Aside from all the heavy lifting and not wanting to stain the ring on your finger from the dust and oil when the truck broke down on one of four trips, the beauty of being able to be grounded by the tune of Dahyun’s laughs and witty banter when you’re trying to catalog and take inventory of the things that will be kept and what’s going up for the garage sale you plan to have within the next week or so. 

“I’m just glad that we finally got it over with.” You put her down, eyes overseeing the view past the spacious living room, as well as the boardwalk-esque deck housing the pool right outside. “Absolute hell trying to get the final documents signed, but finally.” 

“I’m so proud of you honey,” Dahyun tells you, hand to your cheek with the most reassuring look that she’s known for giving in your times of crisis. “Had I known that we’d actually get the house after almost signing off on the last place with Jeongyeon–” 

“Our luck was pretty much cut out for us,” you amend, though she’s not thinking of the ‘what could’ve been’ - since the here and now was all that mattered to Dahyun. You wanted this, and she did too. The agreement was not hard to fight over; sights were set, end of discussion. 

“We should give our credit to Jeongyeon for referring us to this place,” Dahyun starts again, trailing off with hands behind her back, chin up when she walks in deeper. Her gaze turns back to you, leaning on the pillar when you’re staring up at the intricate set of lights hanging over the couch. “Didn’t you say this listing was about to be taken down at the last minute?” 

“Almost,” you answer, hugging Dahyun again with your nose in her hair, “Gladly got the call as soon as I found out.” 

Dahyun twists around, arms circling her waist, pulling her closer under your touch. She’s happy, giddy when the tip of your nose is nuzzling hers for a quick second. Cliché, corny even, but you’re in love and she’s in love - something that the new home will be more filled with for years to come. 

“Shouldn’t we empty out the rest of the remaining boxes?” you ask her, hands curling inward on the small of her back, leaning in slowly for the softness of her fingertips across your face, the plushness of her lips on yours. 

This was a brand new start, a turn of the page in the livelihood of things, one act onto the next. 

–

Here’s the thing about new beginnings, most of these aspects are supposed to be taken in a positive light.

Most of the time. 

The subject of change itself is frightening, can make someone anxious at times because of the uncertainty of how things would play from here on out. Naturally, it’s normal for human beings to feel like this - this daunting notion in being uncomfortable because of this collective notion of ‘being stuck in the past’ or ‘to relive the glory days’. Nostalgia is believed to be one of the great unsaid drugs that everyone takes unknowingly without even realizing it. 

Luckily, you’re not facing things alone around these parts of life now. 

Kim ‘the introverted but somewhat still a social butterfly’ Dahyun has this effect on others that makes her extremely likable. Hell, if it weren’t for that characteristic, the ring on her finger wouldn’t have been there in the first place. She just has this quintessential quirk of just being able to click with others like it's nothing, almost as if she’s known someone she’s just met for more than five years. 

It’s an art in itself to admire, a playlist of clips in your mind that you’ll keep replaying over and over whenever the instance occurs. 

You’re willing to be a people person while she does it effortlessly. 

Not even a week after getting settled in, Dahyun was already getting acquainted with the nearby neighbors opposite and adjacent to your place while you’re busy getting the groceries in (since one or two trips are always the priority for the efficiency of less work.) 

If you’re looking at your new house from the street and inwards, the home on your left is owned by Jihyo. She’s lovely, adventurous, mostly in and out of the house on a daily basis. You lean an ear into the conversation while Dahyun’s getting her small garden going that Jihyo was also a pilates coach, the hint taken with the amount of lululemon products she wears and has in her closet in the brief exchanges of hello’s and head nods. In the next house over to the right, there was Chaeyoung’s place. Dahyun tells you over dinner a few nights ago that Chaeyoung is this underground indie artist that’s hardly home because of her tour scheduling and the fact that she’s in London for her Europe leg on the calendar, but was home for a quick break since her brother just came back from the mandatory military service. 

“You know, when I first looked into this cul de sac, I didn’t expect to live next to a considerable amount of celebrities.” you say, tending to the raw set of patties spread across the grill while the backyard of your house was transformed to this small, homey, kickback-style of a housewarming party with nearly everyone invited along the street. “Too early to say I’ve hit the jackpot?” 

“Please,” Jihyo starts, the cup of bourbon in her hand swirling while the smoke is up in the air, “I think you think too highly of this community a lot.” 

“Everyone has something special going on around here, which is nice.” 

“A silent observer,” she murmurs at you, “Dahyun likes that about you, the ability to read people. You could honestly pass that as your hidden talent.” 

“I may not be a people person like her, but if the conversation persists–” 

“He has no problem slotting himself into it like it’s nothing.” Dahyun says over your shoulder, arm snaking your middle while she’s pressing a kiss into the blend of your shirt while you’re flipping burgers on the clock. “The best at it too.” 

Even through the shades of your glasses, you lean over with Dahyun scooching to your left. A white bucket hat is all you see through the lens that’s shielding the top of her head with the monochrome scheme she has with her dress and shirt. Simplicity at its finest with the way she swipes your drink for a quick clink with Jihyo’s before downing it after. 

There’s this mix of food and drinks being dished out, there’s a lot of simple activities spread out across the yard. Some people are in the pool with White Claws on the cupholders of the floaties, another group is playing spikeball that one of them brought over for more variety with the hoop on the outer rim of the boardwalk, the set table for beer pong, and essentially some others that were scribbled off the shopping list. 

You’re weaving in and out of different groups throughout the houseparty - the role of being the host of the party really shows with the amount of times you’ve checked in with everyone in the span of ten to fifteen minutes. It’s all in good graces really, to set a solid first impression while the ambience really sets everyone into a mood. Cooling down once the sunset hits, and all of a sudden the influx of drinks being passed around might be mistaken as a frat party. 

Aside from the inquiries of passing more drinks, you’ve noticed the stigma that’s seeping through the guest’s faces when you’re indulging in conversations, a hierarchy of sorts. And when they see you get cozy in the seat, that’s when the questions occur. 

Mina, the person living in the house on the opposite side of your street asks: so what’s your daytime occupation, if you don’t mind me asking?

Quick on the draw, you answer: Currently working in data science from the comforts of my home. Oh, and I also dabble with a little bit of history to a minor stance. 

“The world doesn’t thank enough people who aren’t willing to move for a charitable cause.” Her tone is nonchalant, almost flat. That simple black dress she’s wearing, the outline of her figure that may look unreal at first glance, the way her leg is folded on top that signifies that she’s all class, a tilt of her head that has you leaning back ever so slightly. “Are you this some sort of- house husband then? Given the way you’ve been tending to us around the party so far?”

“God no,” you answer, hand up in defense while you’re casually leaning for the unattended cup of Lager that was brought in by Jihyo’s fling? Booty call? Friend with some benefit? It wouldn’t matter since he’s athletic enough to have his own chain of gyms as a fine investment. “Call me a clean freak, but I get by with my duties around the new place.”

“What does Dahyun do again?” Lisa, another neighbor just a few houses down chimes in, “You said that she’s–”

“A corporate lawyer,” you say, catching Dahyun in your peripheral view who’s laughing with another guest that seemed to just make their way into the late afternoon. Hand to the back of your head while racking it, “She’s pretty damn good at her job too.” 

You get a collective nod from the two women when you keep your mouth partly open with a tongue nicking the inside of your bottom lip. Logistically, Dahyun was a key counterpart in her firm, the way that she’s her bosses’ right hand when it comes to finishing off deals whether the fact it came down to mergers or closing cases. She’s always one to speak her mind, not willing to play nice or by the book. 

Generally, a lawyer’s job tends to be stressful at times, given the unhealthy hours depending on what lands on her desk first thing when she walks in, early or not. If Dahyun needs some downtime, you’d give it to her - something about it that she coined you to be her sleeping pill. 

(Kinda funny, though.) 

However, there was this whole ordeal of some big litigation incident with one of the firm’s associated parties. Something about the high ranking chairman and close member convicted of fraud and if the press found out about it, the whole door gets blown up and it turns into an absolute shit show. Dahyun’s boss had her spearhead the whole thing and as a big token of appreciation, she managed to get time off. 

The apartment prior was starting to get a little bit cramped, so she brought up the idea of moving while eating out for lunch one afternoon and that was that. 

Explains how the house acquisition was more simple to deal with, considering how you’re good with numbers and finances, but that’s all to know. 

Tech savvy, is what Mina tells you, taking out of it with a margarita in her hand while you raise your cup in acknowledgement, breaking away from the set of couches around the makeshift bonfire pit. Ever the sentry, unintentional but it’s what a good party host does to get to know new faces, right? 

Like the ping pong ball on the table, you’re bouncing around the backyard again, avoiding the splash zone of the pool when you slide across the makeshift bar of different varieties of drinks off to the right of the sliding door, cups riddled both half full and empty that’ll have to be dealt with eventually later, or in the next morning - whichever one happens first. A frame of mind falls into the same habit, picking up the clutter for a bit before you could treat yourself to another choice of booze or wine you’ll fish out of the kitchen once done. 

Nothing would prepare you for the extra set of small hands swooping in the table to keep tight on the slack. 

She seems familiar, not long term familiar, but something that you’ve caught yourself having a double take at for a quick second only to forget a couple seconds later. A quick spike of the heartbeat, that’s also something that you’re very torn on in that moment - running back a necessary subroutine in your memory banks to check that you’re - well, you.

“I take you’re the guy Dahyun was praising about.” she says, her voice cheery with that simple but sly smile of hers that’s stabbing daggers into your heart. “Find it hard to believe that you’re her husband, actually.”

The solo cups slide in smoothly, placing it back in the respective stack while this girl is tending to the crushed water bottles and cans in that small plastic bag she’s putting them in. A small contribution at that, but a helpful gesture that you’ll indirectly accept once the plastic is tied and in the bin. 

“And what are you trying to say?” you start, arm bearing your hand when you stand square across from her. “Was it everything that you hoped to expect?” 

Unbuttoned baseball jersey, those high top sneakers and short shorts giving a slight peek into her figure from the down up. Her tank top also raised enough to show her toned midsection that looks tapered and detailed. Casual, you think, perfect for the summer vibe that you could honestly put a lei over her neck and all of a sudden this party is a fucking luau. 

“Hon!” a voice calls out to you in the distance, approaching you and the girl from the other side of the yard. When that person gets closer, it turns out to be Dahyun who immediately grins at the sight of you looking all curious. “Oh! Good, I’ve managed to get you two both together.” 

“But you didn’t do anything.” 

“Who said that I was the one to start it?” 

“Coming from the person who’s all for taking the credit for herself.” 

“Always the pleaser,” the girl laughs out loud, Dahyun closing in with her fingers intertwining with hers. There’s history to them - not even a second thought to track back, it’s all there right in front of you to see. It also clicks in your head that this girl was also the same one that Dahyun was gleefully excited to see back in your sit-in with Mina and Lisa. 

The exchange of happy glances abruptly stops when Dahyun catches you with an arched brow, looking for answers, and to this she just smiles downward because how could she forget with the formalities, it’s silly. “Babe, I’d like you to meet Minatozaki Sana, one of my closest friends since college.” 

“Sana,” you say, and when the syllables reverberate past the oral cavity and into the air, it rolls off the tongue nicely. “I see, friend of Dahyun’s?” 

“Indeed I am,” she says, extending her hand as a peaceful offering - not even realizing the turmoil that’s running through your head while hiding it effortlessly. The way her hand fits in yours, her whole body looks delicate like she’s handmade with God’s well crafted time; she’s also a few inches taller than Dahyun (by two for the accurate calculation), you’ve got Dahyun to mold into the threads of the mattress and now imagine–

“I was wondering who was getting Dahyun a bit excited at the gate when you came in,” you say as you’re pouring yourself another cup of brandy this time, since the other drinks were relatively tame for your high alcohol tolerance. “Now with a face to the name, I gotta say, you’re pretty likable already.” 

Bottom line, it’s really curious to act this way. Clearly, you’re smiling at the fact that she’s standing there with her arms crossed, you’ve placed your cup down filling the next one, because another wouldn’t hurt. 

So how did you and Dahyun meet, you say - palm flat on the foldable table that sends the drinks sloshing slightly at the change in stable weight. I would assume that the story in itself is an interesting one, I hope? 

Sana and Dahyun have this exchanging look between the two of them, the infatuation of how their minds are interlinked. These two have been through everything, despite the differences in majors and fields of work - the bond that they have is admirable. “What do you know about me that Dahyun has told you?” 

“Whatever that wasn't ordinary already,” you reply. “What also boggles my mind is that–”

“If she told you about the time I almost had to blow my professor to give me a passing grade, she’s dead wrong. It never happened.” That star-stricken grin that has you pouting slightly and rolling your eyes because her answer has you completely way off of left field. 

Not that, you add on but-hmm it can only make you wonder of the kinds of things that happened in that period of youth, before Dahyun came along into your life albeit a simple nudge of the shoulder while passing between working schedules. A part of the script of life that’s rewritten in itself and jesus - it’ll sit in the comfy nook of your brain while it sends your heart and gut flipping in all directions. 

Let that be a new doc or spreadsheet for you to graph out in your mind, because there’s a lot to compute and learn into getting this right. 

–

So it actually turns out that Sana’s the next door neighbor living on the left of your house. She just wasn’t there during the whole moving process before the housewarming party because like Mina, Sana was out and about seeing the world - something about putting some miles in her life trying to cross off one or two things off the bucket list, maybe more. 

There’s only some noticeable details to keep track of in a few: 

* Said somewhere along the lines of having a fear of heights? Lost a bet to her cousin and went skydiving to get over it. 

* Well-spoken, considering that she was in Dahyun’s undergrad cohort before she had a change of heart in her choice of major, leading towards the pipeline of communication studies or working with kids, cute. 

* She’s an only child in the family and very accepting of the fact of having a big house to herself (since Juile, her housemate who was also paying for half of the place but hardly around to live inside and still depositing the rent when it was time). Lonely, one might say out of sympathy but that would be undermining her success till now. 

* Oh, and that story of her blowing her professor to get a passing grade? Hard to believe how it’s true and very similar to a common storyline you’ve surfed incognito on the internet before.

“Look,” and she says this with a whole hearted laugh when you’re behind her and Dahyun walking out of the side gate. “It was only a one time thing, I swear and plus,” you’re having flash of doubt when Dahyun looks over, and you’re terrible at hiding it because it’s in your eyes, a shake of the head in disbelief when Sana’s shoulders slouch, “we were sophomores that hated that fuckass professor so much, I was willing to take the fall.” 

“And you did, but thank god there’s no proof of documentation that recounts such events like those, right? Right?” 

A prompting cough deviates the ongoing conversation, “I assume that everything was handled then?” To this, Sana nods - right hand swearing under oath, smiling earnestly with those eyes of hers, left hand supporting her elbow. She’s distracting with how her tank top peeks out with her chest open slightly. In the court of law, she could never get away with testifying let alone convince the grand jury. “I mean, what would happen if there was something that’s sizable enough to damage your image of being this good-willed human being?” 

“Then everyone would watch the world burn if that were the true, but I’m cautious of my digital footprint, always making sure that my track record is clean.” 

(She’s in the same pedigree as Mina, Lisa, and pretty much everyone that’s occupying the boulevard: poised, casual, stable, know themselves all too well to get what they want - because they always do, it’ll have your head turning from the moment they walk in to when they leave the table. Dahyun gave you the brief rundown about her circle of friends; they’re good people, not wanting to let the finer things of life get to them, stay true to their words, grounded even.)

It’s how the amber light of your garage door shines above that gives Sana this radiating shade of copper in her hair. You’d offer to walk her back to her place if it wasn’t just a few steps away. Better yet, Dahyun would’ve permitted you to do so if you were to ask right now, but it’s fine. The grace period of life works in mysterious ways, funny how this sense of nostalgia comes back when you see two lovely girls play the game of catch-up, hugging after not seeing each other for a couple years. 

Tuning back in to the image: 

“I’m baffled you’ve managed to land a house like this, especially with your money and the amount of back breaking work you do on a daily basis. Twenty trials? You’re a fucking workaholic.” 

The pair of them laugh together, it’s really heartwarming to listen. 

Still, 

“-plus the extended vacation time you just got-” Sana sounds like a kid on the last days of school trying to come up with a multitude of things to waste time while Dahyun just listens to her rambling; eyes curving up with stupid smiles and the head tilts as if the secrets being exchanged are not meant to be spoken of to others, they look good together, wow. Have we checked the calendar if it’s Pride month still?

When they turn toward you, the actions seem unreal to register. Dahyun’s monolids contrast Sana’s double eyelids, the way Sana’s eyes especially look almond like. Her smile is a little smaller compared to Dahyun’s and when they’re just freely cuddling each other without any spite of jealousy beneath it.

They’re leaving you dumbfounded, consider yourself to be humbled. 

Sana breaks the hug first before she lets out an overreaching hand for you to shake. You’ll admit on another given day to Dahyun that Sana’s pretty, the small pull hinting at her smile all the more reason to give a positive outlook for first impressions that will also have you wondering how in the hell isn’t she in a relationship yet. Overkill when she does the line with her eyes while keeping the same smile when mirroring Dahyun’s expression, too. 

“Same number as always?” Dahyun asks, clinging onto her hand like she’s going away for a sizable amount of time. “I got nothing for the next couple of weeks.” 

“I’ll just walk over and ring the doorbell, don’t bother.” Sana’s answer is optimistic, and you’re hoping she’ll stick to her word because you’re willing to break the lines, the yellow tape at the scene, and ignore the lines of ink blacked out for confidentiality assurance. 

You and Dahyun say good night, and she’s just happily bouncing along the sidewalk into her own front yard. 

“She likes you, by the way.” Dahyun tells you, slotting herself right underneath your right arm while you’re squinting to see absolutely nothing in the darkness, not even tuned in to what your wife was telling you. A few sweeps of looks across the street pass and you’re rubbing warmth on her shoulder, only to nudge your head slightly to finally hear. 

“Sana’s…interesting.” you say, blinking, looking down at Dahyun’s gaze before your eyes shoot away scouring for something else to eye at in the short meantime before a light slap to the stomach sends you snorting out of the quick annoyance. “Hey, based on how she acted, I would’ve thought she’d be anything but ordinary.” 

“She’s done some stupid shit, that’s for sure.” Dahyun signs to her own admission, seeing it first hand of the stories that were told an hour ago. “Though, she’s gotten better once I convinced her to see things in a different perspective.” 

“Could’ve passed as a good lawyer if you asked me.” 

“Please tell me that’s satirical.” 

“Wasn’t planning to say, but I guess it just happened.” 

A close of the gate and up the steps into the front door, easy to say that getting yourself settled in for once in your life doesn’t seem to be that bad of an idea. The plans themselves are just getting started, drawing them up on the itinerary sometime later this week will get a number of things going. 

–

Apparently nobody saw this coming, and let this be an error in the calculations because evidently, this whole ‘summer in the hamptons’ type thing was about to be undermined entirely. 

Turns out on the following day, Dahyun gets this business call at around three in the morning, and the phone just keeps vibrating on the nightstand. She eventually lets you off slumbering with the lamp on while she goes to the couch to hear what her boss was egging on about for what you think would be a short call, but it wasn’t. 

What you eventually find out hours later is that Dahyun was called in to help play defense in this big lawsuit that was deemed to be ‘the second coming of the Watergate Scandal’. God, those news anchors and journalists need to do a better job of nailing the creative writing aspect because it was just fucking awful when they’re reporting it at eight in the morning after. Apparently you’re also reading an article online on your desktop about Dahyun’s firm coming under fire for a sizable client that’s been doing murky deals behind their backs that would not only jeopardize one branch of the corporate relationship, but all the potential deals that have yet to be signed. It’s a mess. Though, work shouldn’t even be the thought since Dahyun’s pulling out all of these boxes that were related to this case out all over the dining room table that she has to bring back to her office and whatever was on the menu for the boat party next week that you’re having with close family and friends was about to be canceled. 

And this has happened on many occasions, but if it involved Dahyun or anything related to the law firm she holds dearly to her heart (of course, you’re first, obviously) the support in her endeavor would always be important to protect. 

“I just hoped that they were able to handle this quietly, and without my help.” You’re dipping your head down to spit the last taste of mint from your mouth. Dahyun leans forward on the sink with her ankles crossed, wearing one of your shirts blinking dutifully, quite zoned out while her hand is over your hamstring, tapping it gingerly. 

“Well if that were the case, then they would’ve called you in anyway.” You say, raising an eyebrow with the tinge of mouthwash cycling in and out when you spit again. “So much for having your rewarded vacation time.” 

Dahyun leans back against the mirror when she’s putting her hair up in this messy bun. She looks a little more relaxed compared to the ragged breaths down your ear when your cock was buried inside her, clinging to your neck while that vicious upstroke of your hips sends her absolutely blown out. The look she gives with her pleading eyes when you take the toothbrush out of her mouth, washing it after she leans over to spit out the toothpaste before handing a washcloth for you to wipe yourself with. “You think I shouldn’t go.” 

“Wasn’t really bringing that up for you to consider, but judging how this looks from the outside in, I’d say it’s pretty bad.” 

“You’re really not helping my train of thought here,” she sighs, hands bearing her waist, the crinkles of your shirt on her subtly showing that petite frame, the image itself recorded in your memory banks loads of times - each one just like the first, if not better. 

Sliding over a few inches to where she sits there idly, your hands placed on the outer rim where her knees bend over the marble counter. She doesn’t change her posture when you’re looking her in the eyes trying to get a read on what her next move might be. Still elegant as ever, Dahyun will always put this appearance on even when it's the simple domestic life she’s living. 

Energy levels are still high, and the initial action was to get back to watching this sappy rom-com kdrama that bored Dahyun to the point where she slipped a hand inside your sweatpants just to ‘spice things up a bit’. Once the prompted question of are you still watching appears on the screen after minutes of inactivity, no point in answering it while she’s happily fucking herself over you while you’re sprawled across the satin sheets, gripping into her perfect waist with the sound of her hips with yours bouncing off the new walls. 

When’s the flight? You ask her, hand sliding up her thigh slowly. I could put in a word for your associate to get that done, save the trouble. Inevitably, the jaws of justice will soon swallow her up again when she manages to break free from the shackles of court orders and depositions. 

“First thing at nine,” she answers, fingers tugging at the midpoint of where the seam of your shirt and the waistband of your sweats meet. “Got some things to pack up soon, but I think most of the papers and boxes won’t be a lot for me to carry on the quick plane trip back.” 

“Crazy that they get paid for a short flight from upstate.” 

“In addition to the fact that they’re also on my dad’s payroll.” 

“A plus I might admit.” you muse. 

Dahyun shifts her gaze from right to left, spreading her legs wider when you scoot her hips up to meet yours. The hum of satisfaction that she gives when your eyes flick up to see that rosy shade of pink plastered across her face, eyes waiting, honing on something that she subjects that will be given to her. Precision was one of her key strengths, but when that’s used against her, it’s a completely different story. 

When she tugs a little bit more on your undershirt to lift, she usually does so with this sense of security - like a kind of clinginess that you won’t have any sort of complaint against. You’ve understood it to a degree. Whether you’re dropping by the office of the firm or being dragged into the kitchen after sitting on your chair for hours and hours doing analytics and business calls, moments like these with Dahyun are always something to behold. Considerably, you don’t mind giving into her needs for attention; in fact, you’re willing to do that without even thinking twice. 

“So,” Dahyun prompts with this sultry voice of hers, clueless and innocently - as if she has no idea what she’s doing to you. With her (your) shirt rumpled all over her body, those pretty eyelashes, her creamy thighs, the way that her fingers are grazing the elastic of both your sweats and boxers, you begin to assess the conditions when you’ve nestled yourself in between her knees, some water staining the gray cotton when you finally lean closer. “How are you gonna handle yourself while I’m gone?” 

“I think you’ll lay the severance package,” you say, not giving any faltering sense when she’s ghosting her set of fingertips on the right hand across your chest. “If there’s damages to it, I don’t mind paying up.” 

“Non-compete or NDA,” Dahyun huffs, lifting the outer seam of the shirt past her hips, showing the opening underneath where her pussy is glistening with her slick, awaiting your end of the bargain, this non-verbal agreement where she knows that you’ll always deliver the requests and offers. “Besides, you still owe me.” 

Laughing, you do recall the statement. It’s funny - there’s a trade off throughout the day earlier where you’re awoken to her warm mouth, deepthroating your cock that leaves you with these sharp inhales. The way her jaw slacks of how she sucks, the mix of spit lathering all over your length while she’s bobbing away between your thighs at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. Even after Dahyun takes care of the morning wood situation, you pay her back by eating her pussy freely on the kitchen counter as the logical option to keep yourselves occupied while waiting for the oatmeal. There’s no competition between the two of you of who makes the other cum the fastest, the hardest, let alone how many rounds can you do in a day; it really just boils down to this one simple look, a push-pull that sends the neurons firing away automatically - fucking each other ‘just because’ to put it simply. 

This girl on the bathroom sink, slouching, head against the mirror still while your hands finally snake under her shirt, feeling the unbelievable midsection under the breasts when she lowers her eyes, leaning up for the touch of your lips. 

Every kiss, stolen or prolonged, each one always has the flaps in your heart opening. She’s yours. 

Tender at first, but then the heat gets raised up when her arm hooks onto your waist, fighting the slipping tongue that’s breaking away for a slight second in her mouth. Her hands are also grasping for any kind of reach for her to clutch on, no luck for it when she finally takes her fingers into your hair, not wanting to pull away. 

Dahyun does this little whine after the quick inhale of air when you slip a finger or two inside her bare cunt, testing the waters as she bites her lip in anticipation. “Don’t do that now,” she spits. That obscene noise coming out of her instantly after when she bucks her hips forward again, accidentally curling a finger in her warm cunt that makes her look away from your intense gaze. “Darling, please–” 

“Use your words honey,” you whisper against her lips when you’re tugging on her bottom lip, causing her to sit up straight on the counter, slotting her arms around your neck with hands circling her waist. “Can’t really hear what you’re saying if you’re mopping my face up.” 

She’s losing her sense of focus when your fingers continue to bottom out the whole length of them, filling her up and pushing deeper. It also doesn’t help when your thumb presses flat on her clit that sends her mewling at the bend. Her face is against your neck, the steady pace of those staggered breaths against your skin keeps your current operation on the clock, unraveling this line when you’re slipping in and out of her. 

“Baby, baby, baby, please–” her heel locks the back of your thigh in place, hitting a kneecap on the cabinet. She’s reduced to these simple words and responses with the heavy breathing. Her hips are nearly coming off the glassy surface of the sink. The shirt’s lifted up beneath her perky mounds (and that fucking underboob is a national treasure in itself), the seal of your mouth is all over her throat: pulling, kissing, gnawing. You kinda feel bad for the concealer pack she’s gonna be using later for a brief afterthought. 

Although this little contest of edging Dahyun out to cum wasn’t on the cards for tonight. You’re managing this smile when she pulls the hair tie out of her hair, letting it flow freely. This look of post-sex yet natural style that she does makes you stare in awe when you pull her hips more out at the edge, the way her elbows are propped up nicely and her legs are spread even wider. Her hand pulls the shirt higher, showing her breasts now, the preferred choice of marks that were left there as a reminder from earlier. You slip out of the sweatpants and boxers, fixed on the brushing of her bare cunt just millimeters away from dipping yourself - a teasing tip, then the first couple inches at the half - and that shudder from her hips catches you off guard. 

“Yes,” Dahyun moans out that matches your sigh in perfect timing. A moment’s hesitation, replaced with the second necessary action to sink yourself into her more, parting her walls nicely, slowly, until you feel all of her wrapped around you. 

She gasps, mewling, spilling out this chain of hitched breaths, “god. honey, your cock–” 

It all slides out for a second. Unreal. Then you slam back into her again. Pacing was always the methodical approach, a line into the protocol when Dahyun is writhing in the drag of your cock fucking deep into her cunt, she’s biting her lip at the fact that she’s shimming her legs more out, wanting to choke herself down the length. My god, you’d love to keep the look she has on her face, lips parted at how badly she just wants you to split her in two, seeing the last hint of her pupils rolling back into her brain when you skate the palms of your hands across her stomach, clutching onto her perky breast when the tempo starts to increase. 

When your hands finally nestle into the curve of her hips, they stay there. They’re already at a good place when your cock finally feels all of her, so wet, so tight. A slight throb along the length when you drag yourself out, that small pocket of air escaping before the vice seals shut again. She’s unbelievably perfect, one label off the list from your head when you’re fixed on the sight of your length disappearing inside her, head tilting forward with every stroke back in. 

“You’re so - mmh,” Dahyun hitches her breath, shuddering, you could feel the rise and fall of her chest when your hand clutches her thigh. A choked out sob leaves her lips, and you’re impressed at the composure of nailing her cunt, the same spot being hit deep, even deeper, to that one area where she’s lost herself before. “Fucking big for me, this cock - feels so good-” 

“Dahyun...” you hiss, shifting your hands down to the soft cushion of her ass, sinking down once again, then another, and then another, sliding her out across the counter before you’re driving her back in, this never-ending piston into the fiery pit of heat, stretching her out, twisting that nimble body of hers into your own creation, coaxing every exhale you catch from her abdomen. “Your pussy is so–” 

What you meant to say was, “your pussy is so fucking tight, god damnit-” You know what, the thought can barely even be formed in your head when you meet Dahyun’s eyes, slowly fluttering shut with her teeth slowly disappearing behind her lip. That, and the feeling of her walls imploding your cock to the remnants of awareness you had left. 

It’s also pretty funny to think how Dahyun was fucking herself freely over you just an hour ago, only for her to be used like this and she knows you simply can’t help yourself. 

“Love, I can’t - shit,” that utterance nearly takes everything ouight of you to say; everything about it is euphoric, the way you have her legs up, bottoming her out. You look at her again, and she has her hand over her mouth, trying to fight that natural clench when your cock fills the heat inside her. “You’re so good for me, spreading yourself open like this. Fuck.” 

This is a case that you’ll take to your grave, knowing all of your wife’s body so well to the point that every kiss, thrust, moan, hell even the appearance when she’s like this for you will be more than enough to last as much as possible. Dahyun knows the switch off too - aside from the fact that she’s cock drunk every single fucking time you fuck her brains out - and she loves this. You see it in her pupils, the desperation to tear all the edges apart, the signal for you to finally wreck her in the way that she wants you to. 

“Don’t stop,” she begs, chest heaving heavily when her legs wrap around your waist, propping herself up for you to take her waist into your chest, letting out these songs of pleas that’s encouraging you to get to that edge first. You could feel her body going limp, the support is almost reflexive while your hips continue to pummel her out. 

“You-” you try to say. Fuck. It goes everything against the directive you’ve put yourself in, the noises of your skin clashing with hers, creating this filthy yet harmonious sound that only gets more and more harder. Dahyun’s breathless moans keep you in check when your motions start to get irregular, inconsistent, keeping yourself busy with your mouth all over her chest. “God, Dahyun–” 

“Do it baby,” she whispers into the cuff of your ear, “Keep fucking my pussy. Pound me like this.” Her hand does this simple action, and it’s lethal. All it took was a simple palm to your cheek, it’s filled with little meaning but carries so much intimacy. Moans and grunts continue to slip out while you search for her eyes, feeling that pull in your waist, grip tightening and loosening as you’re mindlessly thrusting. “You’re getting close for me, aren’t you?” 

“Honey,” and at this point you’ve got it all spun out of control, “You feel so fucking good.” 

“I know, baby.” Dahyun ignores your words of affirmation, smirking. “You know what to do.” 

God. She can kill you, bring you back to life, and kill you all over again. Begging was already done before, you’ve fucked her way past her orgasm on mulitiple occasions - using her as your cumdump; doesn’t matter what time of the day or what you’re doing. The endgame was always this: having you completely fucked out in that velvety smooth pussy of hers - all wet and warm enough for you to live in. 

With your teeth gritting and a final huff of air blowing past your nostrils, you cum inside her, filling her sloppy cunt all the way up. 

Dahyun is sinister, it’s not up for a fair debate. When she coos and hums into your ear canal, you’re battling every urge to just wrap your fingers all over the column of her throat, use the remaining bits of pulse in your member to get her screeching. Alas, you hold yourself back while the ropes of cum are spurting around her walls, her mouth also gaping open when the fourth and fifth pulse out your cock weakly. 

There’s this pause soon after, a collection of breath between the two of you that constructs a reconsideration of your choices. Dahyun has this telepathic connection with your mind that makes the connection instantaneous - you don’t say anything because there’s this one look in her eyes, hanging in the atmosphere bathed with afterglow - and she knows. 

When you do slide out of her swollen cunt, there’s a considerable amount of your cum dripping out of her, slapping the tip along the outside of her folds just to tease her before retreating away entirely. The image of her legs spread out and her back laid across the sink will be saved into your memory for you to look on sometime in the future, or maybe even next week. 

“So,” you mutter, shaking off the small jitters of blood loss to the head when you’re massaging Dahyun’s thighs, “Have I paid off my case in due time?” 

Dahyun chuckles, a single finger raised up from the wreck beneath to get a taste, licking her lips following the fingertip. She wiggles up on her hands to sit on the counter again, hair flipped to one side while she lets the shirt fall down to cover her body, “Hate to say it, but you always do.” 

“That’s good to know.” 

“I’m also saying that you could use my help.” 

“Ha Ha,” 

“What? I’m serious.”

“I’m serious. Well so am I.” Dahyun sarcastically says, slapping your hip that makes your cock jump suddenly. You can see the dashes appear on her face when she lets out this simple smile, the eyes disappearing reflecting the same expression on her lips. She could saunter around the courtroom making a solid case for the defense, but no one would know the fact she’s all liquid putty when you have your hands on her like this. “I appreciate the thoughtful offer, but I think someone’s gotta guard the house while I handle work.” 

“I’m gonna hate you by the end of this.” 

“How bout you flip me over and rail my ass on the sink again?” 

You’re starting to curse that concrete jungle a little more by the end of it. 

–

Okay, to cut to the chase, there might’ve been a slight miscalculation that you had panned out in your head. 

You switch on the TV two days later and Dahyun’s already made her way back to ground zero in the city to handle this case, where it completely spirals into an absolute shitshow. All gloves are off when the story gets released out to the public, scapegoating one of Dahyun’s board members having themselves tangled in an affair with one of the staff. Sure, it could've been an analytical approach to brush off the heat that’s only growing by the second - a shitty attempt you might also think; either way, this trial was crucial for your wife’s firm to win because in the scenario that they lose, all credibility and positive imagery surrounding them will plummet and that equals no more lawyer work for Dahyun. 

She was optimistic at first while on the phone with you, talking about how this case should’ve been a cakewalk to handle, predicting the possible time period of when she should come back home to finally relax with all that hard work paid off temporarily. You’re smiling at the fact that she sounds composed, no hint of stress lying in her tone, riding on that high when you have her bucking into your hips just an hour before her private plane trip to the firm. 

It’s only a matter of time before all of this blows over, you think. Not your fault also when the house feels suddenly empty in the wake of this unexpected catastrophe. 

You’re hearing this definition of a fortnight. As in, Dahyun’s projected time when she could get out of the office and have someone else handle the case on her behalf. A little unusual for her to indulge in the understanding of the term itself, not while you’re making yourself dinner with the chops of onions on the cutting board and the phone being on speaker off to the right side. 

“Two weeks?” you’re asking, the dice of onion cubes being skated off into the pot left to boil while stirring. “That’s a pretty big ask for you to take up with your boss.” 

“Why do you think I’m hitting you with the English lesson?”

“Babe, you’re talking about a term that was used in the freaking 1800s.” you laugh, leaning back on the counter, glass of water in your hand as one of the stupid actions that most people tend to do when talking to their crush. “Would’ve been better if you just said two weeks instead of a fortnight. What do you think I am? Some kid that’s withering their life away over some video game?” 

“There you go again.” She laughs out loud. You can envision the picture of her rolling her eyes at you when you spew out complete nonsense that won’t comprehend in her brain since her lifestyle doesn’t line up with it. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, smirking with a dimple poking out against the touchscreen. “Seriously, when do you think you’re gonna make it back?” 

“Honestly, I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon.” she admits, hearing the click of your tongue over the speaker when you’re accepting the fact that her job might potentially be on the line if she were to leave early. “I know we said two weeks, but in this case-” You can hear her stop short when she clears the lump in her throat before continuing, “This trial might drag on for who knows how long? It might be a few days, two weeks, a month? Everything is laid out for us to fail.” 

“And you won’t.” you tell her, reminding the positives going forward. “Maybe it could look bad, but I’m certain that you’ll do a good enough job with what you have to work with. I’m sure of that.” 

That sigh of relief you hear through the phone. Yeah, you’re right. I get it. A little reassurance goes a long way for someone in her field dealing with that kind of work - not that you would relate or somewhat imagine what it would be like to be in Dahyun’s shoes, but aside from all bad things, you know that she’s headstrong to the point where none of this should even faze her in the first place. 

“You know you can’t go back to the old place, dummy.” you laugh, opening the lid of the pot that unleashes a quick cloud of steam rising above the rim. “Where are you planning on staying in the meantime while working?” 

“Minju has a guest room at her place.” Dahyun answers, “I’d figured that I should tell you this, but I think she and her associate are having a little thing together.” 

“And this is news to me, how?” 

“Because I’ve seen him and her get a lot closer than usual.” she adds, “You do remember that we have this policy that’s strict on relationships around the office–” 

“But you and I, along with some other considerable names and high-ranking figures, are the exception. I know. We’ve been over this story a bunch of times already.” 

Dahyun straightens herself up on the couch over the phone, folding her legs inward on the seat, sighing, smiling. “Are you eating dinner this late?” 

“Well, if you consider ten-thirty to be late to have myself a meal, then yeah, you can call that to be a late dinner.” 

“Rude,” she muses. “Can’t your wife have a little bit of curiosity about your day while being alone? Missing me?” 

“I guess, but there’s nothing to report on my end.” 

She hums, and you can picture the pout she’s putting on whenever you give her an open ended answer that could totally be expanded on if you just put the effort into it. Dahyun knows you're lazy to an extent when it’s off work hours, and she doesn’t blame you for that. “Have you been using your hand to keep yourself occupied while I’m gone, baby?” 

“Sweetie,” you chuckle, tongue against the inside part of your bottom lip when you automatically realize what she’s trying to do - what she’s trying to make you do. “No, we’re not doing this.” 

“Aw, why not?” 

“Because I can only do so much to keep myself sane while you’re not here.” 

“Fine,” Dahyun sighs out in defeat, and you turn off the stove to let the signature dish of your mother’s pork stew cool down before you get to eating. “One last thing,” she starts, “Sana wants a favor from you while I’m not there.” 

“Hmm?” you sound off, getting a small taste test of the minimal viscosity of the soup you just cooked. “What does she need help with?” 

“Just some heavy lifting around her place,” Dahyun answers, yawning. “I told her that she could come by the house to get you and help with whatever she needs.” 

“You’re setting me up, aren’t you.” 

A soft giggle could be heard in the background on Dahyun’s end. It probably shouldn’t mean anything, but a suspicion starts formulating in the back of your head. This could mean one of two things: you’re either fucked for the potential summer, or fucked for the potential summer. 

“Help Sana out tomorrow,” Dahyun instructs. “I don’t think anything bad will happen if you’re stuck with her.” 

–

Turns out that Dahyun would be right when you do stand at the steps of Sana’s front door, hand at the hip while the few seconds of silence runs the possible uncertainties through your head. 

A swing of the door inward: “Howdy stranger, have my pizza?” 

You get a good look at her. She’s wearing these thinly rimmed glasses, the middle wire sitting nicely on the bridge of her nose. Her long sleeve hugs her shoulders nicely, tugging at the fabric while her other arm is raised on the door. The shorts are also doing a number on you internally, highlighting the ridiculously long legs that has miles and miles of skin, aside from the fact that they appear to be too short (and also pink, but fuck, man.) Cozy, homebody type of vibe, is what you end off with. 

“Hey.” And this comes off as a half-choke in the fumble of words, “Dahyun said that you needed some help?” 

Sana cocks her head off to the side, brows attracted inwardly, lost for a second before she fully realizes the present dilemma that she’d had happen to forget. “Oh, I did ask for a few things.” 

“Fingers crossed your to-do list isn’t full?” 

She does this subtle nod of her head motioning you to come inside, and you hesitate for a second, peering over past her head of brown hair to see the state of the place and here’s how it looks: everything has a very simplistic aesthetic, blank tones of the furnishings and floorboards complimenting each other the more you and her make your ways around the place. Some boxes are still present here and there, half-open, half-closed, like the items in them haven’t found their rightful place amongst the shelves and cupboards and closets between the rooms. Sana mentions also that her and Julie also have similar tastes, but given the fact that they both haven’t been in the place that often because of their work, it’s pretty disappointing to take away. 

“How long have you had this house?” you ask, picking up a picture frame off one of the tables in the living room that has Sana and this other gorgeous girl leaning her head in with hers, you can’t put a name to her, but curiosity will come later when the time is right. 

“Just like you, not that long actually,” Sana answers, rounding past the corner towards the kitchen when you pick up on the lasting trail of her footsteps to meet her at point B. “Julie and I only managed to settle in about a few weeks ago before she went overseas for some big movie project that she’s a part of. Other than that, it’s just been me here all by myself.” 

“That doesn’t sound fun.” 

“I find it calming to have a big house with multiple rooms without the sense of company.” 

Your eyes trail off in the distance of this closed space. It looks barren, but rich, with the sense of presence from all of the different decorations and paintings all over the walls and tables. You might mistake this as a museum, an unplanned exhibit with your neighbor as the centerpiece of this gallery. 

“So,” you start to say, arms cross when you’re watching Sana on the opposite side of the kitchen island, sipping on a glass of strawberry lemonade, looking back at you with wide eyes, those pouty lips on the rim–

She points to the set of disregarded items off to your left side behind, the same set of boxes you noticed when walking in, “I need to get these things out of there and placed around the house,” and she starts to round the area of the kitchen to get closer to you, “and my garage door needs some fixing since it won’t open for some reason” 

“You really think I’m qualified to help you with the garage?” you raise an eyebrow in suspicion. 

“Dahyun asked you to help me, so please, make us happy.” 

–

The first meeting with Sana happens quite quickly. It should’ve ended there - a simple favor fulfilled and get on with continuing the daily routines around the house and neighborhood. 

Except it doesn’t happen that way. Not when Sana catches your attention when you’re taking out the trash, watering Dahyun’s little growing garden, when you’re getting your morning and evening runs up the hill and round the block, she always seems to get you caught in her lines of sight. 

You’re not against it however, taking a liking to have a quick chat with Sana about different things that were worth bringing up - it’s the simple camradire that’s developed rapidly after the housewarming party. She’s interested to see you with the garage open, finding a new thing to tinker and fix with the car (although modding a tesla would make some vehicle enthusiasts want to rip out their hair and gouge their fucking eyeballs,) she just makes the minute trip from her house over to yours just to talk. 

Dahyun’s calls circulate every now and then, getting the quick rundown of what’s been happening while she’s knee-deep in trial work down at the firm. You simply smile while tapping on the camera switch icon on facetime to have her look at the group of Sana, Jihyo and her summer flirt, Mina, along with a few others just have a communal game night of Mario Kart down at Sana’s place when everything is settled in. Before that, you were explaining the fascination of this ancient city that you’ve been reading into between business calls and graph inputs during work that may sound like you’re a boring professor talking about history. 

None of that would matter because Sana’s house is like this ancient city that’s riddled with riches and items of materialistic value that would probably convince someone else that their money is being wasted over meaningless items rather than propper investments. You get a few nods of agreement, maybe some fingersnaps because what you’re saying could be plausible with the amount of knowledge you’ve consumed to tell without boring everybody. 

“I could care less if that were the case,” Sana says, leaning closer on the couch while running a hand through her hair, the flowy locks combined with that cropped Prada shirt could have you reeling in an alternate universe, but it doesn’t. 

“Sana,” you call out, Jihyo’s also giggling at the fact before you even say it also, “your walk in closet is literally the devotion of this ‘city of gold’ I’m talking about.” 

“Hey!” and she’s taking this with a light offense, “I only say that it’s true because where else am I supposed to put the dresses?” 

“I suppose they could go somewhere else that doesn’t take up space in the racks?” 

“You’re the one who helped me put them up anyway!” 

“Don’t get all defensive now because I’m talking about it.” 

She cracks this smile while Mina sounds off with a ‘boo’ noise, “You can take your little history tangent up your ass then.” 

To that, you raise an open bottle of White Owl to her face, downing a bit of the drink while she rolls her eyes, narrowing while she purses her lips. She’s lining her fingers across the bottom of her chin, intuitively, studying the movements of your hands and eyes, getting a read of what makes you tick. 

Even after the activities of game night are all wrapped up, you stay behind in Sana’s house, picking up the assortments of empty glasses and bottles, the charcuterie board that’s scavenged through, except the stack of cheese that was apparently stale and too cold to even dig their teeth in. 

“Care for some cereal?” Sana prompts after the final sweep. 

“You’re asking me to have a night breakfast?” 

“You’re making it sound like it’s something to be frowned upon.” 

“Then why the paradoxical proposal?” 

She doesn’t bother answering that with a simple hum while you’re chuckling lowly. There’s already two bowls on the counter, and not long after, she’s holding out two boxes: Frosted Flakes and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. 

“I like the choices.” you tell her, placing yourself on one of the high chairs while Sana slides one of the boxes over with the jug of milk trailing just behind it. You snap a picture of yours and Sana’s bowls to send over to Dahyun and in which she responds in three seconds - you fell for the cereal bait tactic. 

What? I got courted with Frosted Flakes and you know this, they’re great. 

She did the same thing to me back in college, but that’s her ‘ol reliable’. 

Sana swipes your phone from your hand that you try to get back, but she skips a few feet away and starts to text in your place. “What are you texting Dahyun about?” 

“Why does it matter to you?” 

“That’s my phone you’re using.” 

Sana parts her mouth open, humming once, “I’m too lazy to grab mine from the living room.” 

“You’re texting my wife.” you deadpan. 

“She was mine first before you came along.” 

You roll your eyes. Ouch. But you sigh once the defeat settles itself back in over you. All that you’re just left to do is get these soggy, milky grains down before you eventually pack it up for the night. 

“Thanks again for staying back to help,” Sana tells you on the front step of her yard, “worth the treat of cereal as a reward.” 

“Nice to have some company, especially when there’s video games that make me feel like a careless child again.” 

“We’re all a little starved for a little fun, glad I contributed to that reach of youth.” 

And this comes out of nowhere, really, you miss Dahyun around the house and it’s felt like ages since you’ve last seen her. 

Sana has her knuckles against her cheek, the fingers are well refined, she has that glow on her face and that small hint of a dimple that breaks out underneath and well - that same pout you saw last time breaks into this perfect grin of hers that’s filled with uncut happiness, the way her eyes arch into that same eye smile Dahyun has really makes you think twice about your situation. 

It’s embarrassing, but you miss Dahyun while there’s this small crush of Sana growing inside you. Going against your vow might be one thing, but your heart can’t help itself to only tell you over your mind - well shit. Congrats. 

Though, she’s reeling you back in after seeing Hailey’s comet above, calling your name that makes you unsure if you even know your own name. 

“Will you be busy for the rest of the week?” She prompts. 

“You can just come past the gate and ring the doorbell, I’ll always answer.” 

Sana doesn’t say anything more than that, only giving you the usual ‘good night’ message before she sends you off on your way, just a few feet to the side and behind another door. 

–

Some weeks pass. It’s late, and hot. The combination of this nightly hot climate doesn’t serve anyone well. 

You hear a knock at the door that has you scratching your head over the fact on who would be at your front doorstep around this time. All of that gets thrown out the window when you look up past the column of wood to see Sana standing there, bundled up in gray sweats and an oversized sweater that’s draping her frame, two sizes too big, her shoulder noticeable to see. She has nothing else on or with her besides the phone in her hand. 

“It’s the middle of the night,” you announce, squinting at the light towering over you and her in the front patio of the house, letting out a sigh while Sana just wiggles her body side to side, acting all innocent knowing that she knows what she’s doing. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping already?” 

Sana finds your reactions to be funny. For every question, you give her a simple or calculated answer. A greeting in the morning or afternoon would be short and sweet ending off with ‘let me know if you ever need anything’ before heading back inside with the daily mail or some vacuum or bundle of rags to clean from the garage. Every blurt or sexual comment would send you coughing or spitting out some of your water when Sana’s dropping by to see what you were doing. Most girls other than Dahyun in her position would be automatically disinterested, not your fault for being naturally dry and introverted.  

“Julie crashed at Natty’s place, so I managed to drive myself back home.” Sana replies with a pull of her lips, breaking a sly grin when you return the same nod, prompting her to come inside because it wouldn’t be like you to keep a beautiful girl from around the neighborhood just standing outside your doorstep. 

The hums that come out of Sana’s mouth are refreshing, in addition to the little swing of her head back and forth when she moves past the first lounge area of your house to between the dining table and kitchen where she stops short for a second, looking off to the left, formulating a thought. You had the lights dimmed around the place, but you catch the silhouette of her side profile while a hand is behind her back, like one of those poses that she did for a magazine not too long ago that she shared when you finished up moving the last bits of her boxes. 

“Why come to my place?” you ask, flicking a light switch that brightens the area right outside leading up to the backyard. “Are you that bored around your house that you just walk over to mine?” 

“Not denying that I’m bored,” Sana amends, turning towards you again, “just wanted to give you some company.” 

“Sana, it’s late.” 

“Remind me again,” she pouts, the lift of her eyebrows makes you slightly cringe, “How long has Dahyun been busy with her work and that trial of hers?” 

“Last I heard from her was that she’s almost done closing off the settlements.” 

“Good, and you haven’t been losing your mind over the fact that your wife’s not with you.”

“Can I live normally while Dahyun gets to play the main breadwinner in the relationship?” 

Sana coos after that. She keeps this longing gaze at you while you’re returning the same fix on her. The end point of her nose, the lines of her cheek, that over peeking collarbone when she sweeps her hair from the front to the back with a little flip; you tell her that the downtime you were mainly focused on was trying to get back to sleeping, but the damn heat was the main excuse and to that she laughs, scrunching her face when she can see right through the poorly constructed lie. 

It’s distracting, the small rumbling of this breaking desire - makes you feel uncertain in how you should approach the current dwindling situation.  

Falling off the curve, however, Sana asks you:  “Do you mind if I can take a swim in your pool?” 

–

This should be a page in the history books, ripped away and shrouded in the shadows, never to be disclosed to anyone else that isn’t yourself. 

It’s also completely harmless when you’re mindlessly handing Sana one of your spare towels sitting in the bathroom, smiling sincerely when she accepts the simple item of hospitality with the add on of, if you also need some extra clothes to wear because you dipped your feet in the pool with the overhanging flared sweatpants of yours getting stained, I can lend you a pair while it dries up - pick it up tomorrow or have it dropped off- 

She floats her way down the steps, towel over her shoulder, “I’d take an extra pair of pants to use after I finish, thank you.” 

You nod, letting herself like at home as if her own home wasn’t only less than five seconds away next to yours. The glass sliding door opens up to the balcony when you finally hear the light crash of water being made from the floor below. 

There’s something calming about the light blue glow being illuminated from the pool, looking up at the different stars and constellations with today’s moon being somewhat of a mix between a half moon slowly transitioning into a crescent. Dahyun was also with you in this same position after the first night of moving in, pointing out the basic lines of the Big Dipper and the Alpha Centauri, you showing her Orion’s belt before she made a counterargument that it wasn’t a freaking belt, but it just goes to show that you’re just counting the days down until Dahyun gets back from brining the trial win home. 

Looking down, you just see Sana the singular hint of honey brown sitting on the edge of the pool before slowly dipping in, getting the ends of her hair wet before tying it up in a high bun and happily floating in place, sighing while the refreshing yet, cool temperature of water settle around her body. 

The room of your study looks tempting to set up base camp, not the worst option to consider also as a form to keep yourself occupied while your bubbly neighbor was right outside your backyard swimming in the night. 

(God’s really picking and choosing your battles in any way that he pleases, huh?)

You stay the course, grabbing a quick bottle of Heiniken from the fridge when you’re seeing the sight of Sana’s shoulders and arms breaking the flow of water, her head just above the turquoise surface, the light shining beneath her face to get a good glimpse of her rosy cheeks, those lips tugged at the ends of them in a soft smile, the line of her neck also doing you numbers than the beverage in your hand before you’ve even got a propper sip. 

Sana looks towards the back of the house, you raise the bottle up to let her know that you’re still here, noticing the pile of clothes on one of the lounge chairs, neatly folded with her phone as the cherry on top. 

Here’s where you make mistake #1: The second bottle in your left hand needs a drinker, and you step your way out into the boardwalk of your pool. A missing piece of detail that you completely ignored was how Sana’s pile of clothes was lacking one vital part–

“I find it to be pretty peculiar for my wife’s friend to be skinny dipping in my pool at around this hour.” you inform Sana of the situation, to which she softly laughs at the observation while you’re kneeling at the edge, placing the two bottles off to the side that you’ll get back to later. 

Sana floats her way to the edge of the pool right next to you, arms hanging on the deep end while looking up, “Didn’t think I needed the necessary layers, no?”

“You want to tell me about layers when you’re wearing nothing underneath.” 

“Where’s the fun in having swimsuits and trunks?” she teases, “it’s too much of a hassle for me to go through the exhausting process of changing in your spare bathroom that’s miles away from the pool.”

“There was literally a bathroom for you next to the kitchen that you passed by to get here.“

“Why don’t you join me? The pool’s too big to have one person inside.” 

No. No. Don’t even think about–

“And if I refuse?” you ask quickly, naively. 

Sana leans her head back, and your eyes can’t help in anything besides fucking you up. The waves of the water cleared up, returning to its calm, idle state where you catch the highlighted sallow skin against the light, catching her hips and legs flowing freely. She lets her lower body rise up to the surface, hands still alongside the edge almost as if she’s lounging on the nearby chairs - it also hits you that she’s doing it on purpose, the fact that her bare ass is just out in the open air for you to see–

Right on cue, mistake #2: you sit down nicely, criss-cross like a little kid; and Sana scoots herself to where you’re sitting, closely, dangerously. 

“I’ve got some pull for you to rethink, take my offer into some light consideration.” she muses, and the leaning closer coming from you is seriously not helping. She’s got her hand laying below your knee, and she might as well be right under you with the ground advantage. 

That same lean is also curious; it’s also pretty familiar too - how the natural state of gravity works, Dahyun reeled you in to some similar form a long while ago - forget if or maybe if the fact she looked first or you looked first, it doesn’t matter. One key difference between that event and now was the fact that you realize that you’ve toppled over and into the swimming pool, clothes still on and everything, the brisk feeling of water washing over before you find yourself breathing, ears getting flushed out and replaced with Sana’s sweet laugh to top if all off. 

You swipe your hands through your soaked face, slowly floating to the shallow end while cringing at the present moment that just occurred. The blend on your shirt and sweats mold to your figure, like someone had slapped clay on you. Chlorine is not good for the eyes, obviously, so keep rubbing your eyes and clearing out any sinuses while telling Sana that you’re not inviting her in the next time after this night. 

Sana has this effect on people, so natural and open to the point with others that she’s hugging everyone and doing skinship as she pleases, you’re not far off from the latter, in fact–

“I thought you’d be a little more vocal with the fact I pulled you in,” she tells you, turning away slightly when you splash a hint of water as she approaches you. 

“It’s cold,” you say blankly, slicking your hair back while Sana closes the distance. Sly smile and everything. 

“That’s all you have to say?” she asks, “So dry.” 

“Aside from the fact that you’re swimming naked in my pool, I think there’s more pressing issues for me to take care of.” 

Pressing issues noted, Sana is well within arms reach, except you have another look at her charming face, her body under the water - she’s well defined in all avenues, fair skin that would even rival Dahyun’s for a quick comparison, her hands continue to do their own thing when they’re measuring the shape of your middle, fingertips grazing the soaked shirt and all. 

“I’m sorry” she breathes out, the faintest apology of them all. 

You’ve got your arms around her waist, not a care to fully realize what you’re actually doing; it’s a collapse in real time, her hand to the back of your neck: mistake #3. 

With a simple press of her lips on yours, she grips tightly, the draw of air clouding the intoxicating taste that has you humming a bit, the slide of her fingers down the line of your jaw before going off the rails with replacing the hand with a full on arm, hooking onto your neck while you move up to her upper back. 

But this inferno was unraveling. 

Her legs fill the gap between yours, hands are now on both sides of her face, thumb sliding across that prominent cheek bone that will have you sculpting out the details some other time. She’s kissing you like she wanted this to happen, the desperation, hunger even, like it would be the last thing needed over everything else, and you’d give that to her. It’s all sinking, that box of thoughts that was supposed to stay at the bottom of the ocean, the sealed lock intact and with no key to open, it’s resurfacing like the breaths of air you and Sana share with your faces just centimeters away from each other. 

“Do you think you can forgive me?” she stops to ask. 

A fucking truck of reasoning is what hits you, pulling back even more but your hands are now keeping Sana in place, just right above her ass holding at the hips. “Yes- no-” She pulls you in for another convincing kiss before another could be stolen on her cheek, the same sigh she sounded in your throat a few seconds ago comes around. “I don’t know anymore.” 

“It’s okay to not know.” Sana’s face softens when you can’t even bother to look her in the eyes now, tilting your chin up to support, lightly stroking it. “We probably shouldn’t.” 

She’s right. You’ve got to end this and you have to end it now.

“But what if we did?” You’re left breathing, in disbelief. 

“Would you want to find out?” Sana asks again, unsure but also confident. “There’s this kind of luxury I’m fascinated with discovering the unknown.” 

You’re thinking of these different stories in your head, the different kinds of graphs and tables riddled with numbers trying to come up with a logical case, predicting a scenario where you could forget about all of this, count the days until you won’t be alone again with the right person. Except Sana is dishing out all of these simple motions that have you leaning in for more, yearning. A hand is being slid across the shoulder, her face is suddenly closer with yours when you pull her towards you. “I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t afraid.” 

“Don’t feel bad,” she tells you, a comforting whisper, wisping in the breeze. “You’ll be able to catch on quickly.” 

(If there was anything that you’ve noticed while starting this new chapter: you’ve learned that the sly smile armed by Minatozaki Sana will have anybody flipping over, ruining lives and starting fires.) 

All common sense gets tossed out of the pool when you kiss her again, a choice that will have its own consequences when the time is right, the floodgates of sin opening harshly while you've just signed your one-way ticket straight to hell.

–

Another thing that you learn from the houses that are oozing with richness up and down the street is that money and sex have powerful selling points. 

This may be subject to change, but when you have an art piece like Sana stolen from the museum of her house (figuratively), all fingers and charges point toward theft, the necessary offenses that follow after don’t really matter as of right now. 

–

It’s not that difficult for you to fall in a place like this: carrying Sana up the steps but only stopping short at the doorway when she’s lapping her tongue into your mouth. She’s still wet in your hands from the pool, and you have the wall play as a part to keep her in place - the fit of your lips breaking apart before they find themselves again. 

“Mmm,” Sana hums into your mouth when you finally let her down, on the balls of her feet while your hands wrap around her waist again, knee lightly nudging the apparent line of your cock with the pads of her fingers soon after, testing it. 

“Hey,” you mumble, pulling away with an audible smack from her lips, tongue licking your mouth while she softly laughs, and again - it’s definitely on purpose when her hand palms your cock more firmly through the soaked sweatpants that has you gasping for a millisecond. “Trying to get on with it faster now, are we?” 

Her hand sets itself on your chest, eyes meeting with hers half-lidded, she knows what she’s doing, she knows that this is wrong, and she most definitely knows that this is on purpose. You tilt your  head more deeper only for her to stop you for not more than two seconds, before easily allowing you to kiss her once again. 

“Who’s leading?” Sana laughs at herself, still stark naked when your hands land at the rise of her hip, massaging the slope of her ass with the droplets of water gliding across your palms. “Wouldn’t be right of me to do all of the hard work, begging at the fact that you’re about to fuck me over in this huge house, get your fingers inside and finally have that perfect dick that Dahyun always talks about.” 

“She told you?”

“Much like every time we catch up. Always.” 

“What do you know so far?” 

Sana sighs when you kiss her again, the lines on her face softening like a flush of anxiety that suddenly went away in a matter of a second. Your hand is quick to travel to the back of her head, pull the elastic of her hair tie that lets her locks flow down while the counterpart is palming her warm, bare cunt, eliciting a slight gasp while you’re smiling into her skin. “She- she told me that you were disappointing the first time y-you guys did it.” 

“Oh?” you mutter, thumb tapping on her clit that makes her whole body stiffen while the pad of your middle finger slowly scoops under her folds, noting how much she’s gotten slick in the short span of time. “The inexperience was the main factor.” 

Another finger pushes inside, feeling the stretch while your ear receives the steady decline of Sana’s breaths, lip being pulled inward by the upper row of her teeth while her chest heaves, the heat becoming too unbearable to handle. She’s not one to let you take the easy route, putting her lips back with yours while you scoop under her luscious ass, walking past the doorway and into the bedroom - a space where Dahyun’s appearance was the common one - now introducing a newcomer that will make her case to stay. 

The landing on the bed isn’t gentle, and Sana slightly sets herself up on one elbow, while you’re tugging the sopped clothes off your body, trying to get a read into this pretty woman’s eyes of the things you want to do to her. You’ll make her cum, flip her into the mattress, have her bouncing on your cock later, get her whimpering while you drink in the sight of her pretty face just blown out, euphoric, the writing’s already on the wall before you even get a chance to draw the pen. 

“You think I’m gonna disappoint you with my performance? Maybe prove that Dahyun’s point still stands?” you ask her, making your space bigger over hers when you’re on top of her, pulling from the hips to get her to meet your thighs. Sana bites her lip in a short excitement, keeping her gaze on yours when her fingers finally wrap around your cock, giving a few experimental pumps while she spreads wider, opening the gates to an avenue that will have you packing your bags to the next house over. “Imagine if–”

“I’ll make you shut up about your worries, now fill my pussy up. With your fingers, your cock, just anything, please.” 

She’s desperate for you, and you have to admit it too, but when that first rush of every single sensation registering in your mind from the very instant you have your cock wrapped around her, sliding inside those lines with the small tug of your hips, pushing more while you could feel nails rip into your skin. 

It’s a new entry of data, the approach of how Sana’s pussy is downright perfect for you. There’s a slight throb, a misfire when the strokes are still hesitant, uncertain exchanges of breaths with the slow blinks between her eyes and yours. Uninviting, but all the more welcoming with her walls, clinging into the deeper ends of her cunt, breaking down the imaginary lines of numbers and rope circling through your head. 

“My, fuck–” and you also choke out something too when she says that, the muted cry she let out while you take a moment to readjust, sliding out before you yank Sana’s hips onto your cock again. “T-this is everything.” 

Like you need the exposition on the term everything. All of your worries wash away when you thrust more ferociously, the internal bomb in your brain ticking away the time every single speck of seconds that passes through burying your cock inside her. You’re nowhere near gentle at this point, the squeeze that has you mirroring Sana’s “hnns” over the claps of your thighs with hers, taking advantage of the arch in her back by hooking your arms underneath while one of her long legs locks around you. 

“So good,” she just groans out, relishing in the feeling of it. “Don’t stop–” 

You’re also not safe from it either, fingers resting alongside her midriff where her hands are placed on top, grasping at the new angle of your hips where it has her wheezing, the fresh spot of heat hitting the base also making your lose your sense of awareness, reduced to nothing but just a desolate being of a husband that’s throwing their marriage away. 

Her creaming cunt only keeps you focused, the pretty sounds and remarks coming out of her mouth has you giving her expressions of confusion, lust, shock, and maybe that longing look of when you see someone at first sight and it just kills you, right then and there. The sheets come undone, a pillow is used as a secondary support underneath her back, a clutch of the tit and she does this simple evil grab of your hips while you’re ruthlessly pounding into her helpless body, utilized as a vice the more you hold your end of the bargain. 

“Sana, you’re–” and again, the mind blanks out of this small blurb of praise before she just giggles for her response, fucking her so throughly that you’re running the different combinations of tempos to get her even more ruined, fucked dumb, maybe even have her begging to be used over your cock like this again soon - the eventuality of that notion will be all too apparent when the sun rises the next morning. 

She just clings to you, keeping your hips in motion while her hands cup around your face once more, pulling inward for that press of lips all over again like the beginning. You feel the wobbling lip, a thumb quick to keep her coaxing while she whimpers in absolute bliss. 

“I want you,” she huffs, and you’re falling through the cracks with every steady stroke of your cock between the opening of her legs, “to make me cum. Make a mess out of me and this pussy.” 

You’re taking shelter between her mounds, not wanting to look up in pension for the cardinal sins committed tonight, lips swiping up and down her neck that has Sana moan out in approval, the clamp of her walls tightening every return back to the bottom, her hands are over your back, tracing lines, fantasizing. She’s a fucking waterfall every thrust you take. 

“I’m- fuck–you’re gonna–gonna make me cum so fucking hard.” you feel the pulse impending, the muffled squeak that she makes in your lips, she’ll be the first to fall. That eruption happens fast, the spasm and tighter grab in her walls around you while she’s crying for now. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for this incident, a flashpoint in time that was probably bound to happen, fucking Sana in the walls of your own bedroom this hard– “You’re something else, just like you were meant to have me like this, God.” 

“Keep fucking me like this - god that feels so good, You and your cock it’s-” she huffs, barely smiling. She can see you slipping, at the edge, the litany of moans sounding like a siren out at sea. That mess she requested, you’ll give it to her, bury your cock in the deepest depths where it shouldn’t even be humanly possible, where the molten hot walls are bursting the thickness of your head, grinding out every cell and fiber - it’s possible. “Fuck, that’s so hot when you’re all fucked out for me.” 

“Sana,” you say, and she has your hand over her tongue, licking up the thumb, and you’ll swear that it’ll do damage to you for centuries. 

“Mhm,” she responds nicely, the last bit of the hum coming out as a hitched whimper, “Cum inside me.” 

That’s how she’ll want to do things. If she wants something, she’ll get it. You do the same amount of damage to her like she did to you while she’s begging, whimpering, getting all of the lovely noises of being fucked out to oblivion out of her mouth until she’s leaking - washing you over, from the legs, to the pillows and sheets. Stretching her out perfectly, get her to slur out phrases that she would say normally on occasions not like this, only to come back around and have you fill in between the gaps. 

You slip, she slips, it won’t matter, because you or her will make the catch, that extra push deep, maybe harder. The velvety drag already has you addicted to her, the sight of her body above this hips was just the plus. 

“God, Sana. So fucking wonderful.” you snarl against the line of her cheek, one last final dip that has your cum flooding deep into her warm, velvety cunt. 

The throbs of your cock has Sana mumuring softly, saying something like - yes, yes, keep fucking your cum into me, so that I can feel it - nice and hot, god yes. 

You slide out halfway, and her hips buck from the tender motion while your hands rub her thighs. And you also black out for a second when a few more spurts coat her walls even more, the pullout quick for a fist around the head of your cock, covering her waist in the remaining bits of cum still left inside you - well fucked and sloppy. 

Sana’s eyelids flutter shut, your hand rubbing along the oblique of your hips, that sense of desire finally fading away when you fully realize what had just transpired in the past hour or so. The lights are off in the house with the illuminating glow of the moon breaking through the window, tinnitus ringing in your eardrums and your eyes are fixated on Sana again, cross-eyed on the cum-soaked fingers she has, taking the liberty of sucking on them shamelessly, and the fucking noises she makes has your jaw to the floor. 

“Thank you,” she says, sweetly, innocently, sitting up on the bed with her legs crossed, the trail of cum still apparent on her stomach. “You certainly did not disappoint.” 

You, my friend, are entirely fucked. 

“What’s gonna happen to us now?” you ask her, rubbing your face and shaking your head in disapproval while Sana cleans the rest of herself up with her fingers. “I think we made–”

“Did I not tell you to worry?” Sana’s quick to shut you down, her look cross while you don’t even bother to meet her in the eye. This is supposed to feel wrong, it shouldn’t feel like anything else besides that. She scoots herself over to you with a quick kiss to your cheek, one that you accept openly, but still feel pensive over. 

“We can talk about it later,” she says, sliding herself into the rumpled sheets, patting down the open space next to her. “Would you mind if I stay the night? In your room? And in your bed?” 

“I can’t really turn down that offer,” you laugh, following along with a hand trailing up the side of her figure, giving a meaningful press of lips to the spot of her hair, “I actually like the company now.” 

“Would you also mind if I want it later when I can’t sleep?” 

“I’m seriously gonna hate you for this when we’re done.” 

“But I’m asking nicely.” she says, and hums this sweet tone when you lay next to her, feeling her ass shimmying against your cock underneath. “You’ll say yes,right?”

“Keep up with the needy act, and maybe I’ll have to fuck the want right out of you.” 

Sana rolls herself on top of you, finger tracing the lines of your face again, sketching, the bottom of her lip tugged by a pair of teeth. There’s that sly smile again, mischievous. It’s the reality now, she’s won you over. 

“Consider it a gift for you.” she adds, kissing you again before she goes slack on your chest, the wave of sleep finally setting in. 

–

(This actually comes later when you can’t dream a wink, staring up at the high ceiling: 

It only takes little effort for someone to make a house into a home - and you learn to the best extent possible, Sana slots in that missing piece where Dahyun is supposed to fill - without even fully realizing it. 

Her and Dahyun are two sides of the same coin, both give you this sense of ease and confusion that has you looking off while they’re trying to hide the inevitable laughs. They’re both also moodmakers with the way they look at you with the earnest smile, a reminder of one and the other that you’re not too far behind to follow. 

Every nick of the mouth moving, the glint in their eyes that will break you down from the shackles of rational thoughts while the springs in your bed are supporting the absolute fucking you’re doing over them. 

Maybe this summer will be saved after all.) 

–

When the crack of dawn breaks through the sunrise, you’re trying to recollect what little thoughts you have left of your deteriorating marriage; as in, what’s gonna happen to you when Dahyun finds out you’ve slept with her close friend who just happens to live in the house right next door, aside from other things. This space was now tainted in the heinous acts you’ve committed but the only thing that was filling the front of your mind was the amount of work emails you saw on your phone while waking up. 

“You’re just gonna leave me here in the bed all alone?” Sana asks, your back still turned to her when you mindlessly flick up the switch to your bathroom. 

A simple spin on the ball of your heel, and the image is just majestic to witness. 

This 5’3 brunette that’s all sunshine and rainbows, replaced by a deity that oozes sexiness and uncapped lust, lays on the side of her frame with an elbow propped up to support her head, hair still having that post-fuck frizziness to it, the sheets are covering most of her middle, but that outreaching left leg exposed, folds in, and you catch that slope of her hip, her ass is also not that far behind to look over. 

You already know her body all too well. If you could put someone that’s remotely close to the Greek god of Aphrodite, Sana would come very close to that. 

“Are you really expecting yourself to stay here?” you ask, fishing for your toothbrush before washing it with one hand, the other grabbing the minty toothpaste that was adjacent to it in the cup. “You know that I have work, not to mention working at home too.” 

You watch from the doorway when she sits up, the romp of her sheets falling over in front that shows that pale chest, her firm breasts that lay beneath her fine collarbones, there’s a new set of hickeys - the hickeys, showing your favorite spot to soothe her while she’s wailing in your arms, the rise and fall of her shoulders every breath let out has another wanting bite of her swollen lips. 

“Is it too much to keep you company?” she asks again, tugging on the comforter, hoping that she’ll get the right answer out of you.

“It’s not that I mind about the company of you, it’s the fact that others would get suspicious.” you retort, placing down the brush filled toothpaste on the counter, “That’s the last thing that I want to happen.” 

“How long has Dahyun been at trial with her firm?” 

“At least a couple weeks at this point.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

“You need to go home.” 

“But your place is a lot nicer than mine, clean also.” she smiles, looking up little by little when you approach her on the edge of the bed. A hand is outreached with hers, and it’s damning how well it fits with yours, the automatic reflex of brushing your thumb over the highest peak of her middle knuckle. You don’t even flinch at the fact that she’s moved your hand over to her breast, tracing her nipple. It’s not hard to ease into these seductive advances, softly chuckling at the way Sana’s tit has a sort of weight to them - perky, but impossible to resist. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” you ask yourself, a little loudly for Sana to hear too, “I have to get ready.” 

“Breakfast on the table?” 

“Have you freshen up before you do the walk of shame next door.” you whisper, helping her up, swooping under her legs in a bridal carry. The tangle of her hairs on your chest when she leans her head in, laughing, the smell of citrus and lingering sweat. “The comforter was too heavy and hot anyway.” 

Sana just giggles, waving her feet in the air, into the bathroom where her skin glows a little bit lighter. “What’s the point of having that open room next to yours if it’s not used?” 

–

(There’s a lot of questions that don’t get answered. Partly because Sana can’t concentrate while you’re kneeling between her legs in the shower, lapping away at her clit, washing away any slick that’s left out; her fingers are splayed out across the tile, slipping, dripping away from her hips. 

You also shouldn’t be whispering these sweet nothings into her ear either, kissing her as if in another reality, maybe this too, could be a thing. It isn’t fair, it’s not right. She comes off as urgent, hoping to keep your mind off of the responsibilities sitting at your desk for just a little while longer. “Don’t do this to me.” That’s a plea, your mouth hovering over her neck, she has your dress shirt draped over her on the kitchen island with her knees apart again, filling in the space while she’s all porcelain teeth and warm tongue. She tugs on your lips like she wants every last bit of you, and it’s not worth fighting for. Her mouth gets on the cuff of your ear, and she whispers this spell, a curse rather, impending your fate even more: 

“I think you know all of the things that I would do to you.”) 

–

Fucking Sana has its own luxury. 

This living art piece wandering about in your house where no one else knows. She comes to your place, you go to hers, it’s a trade off that’s very easy to do when you’re just a few steps away from each other’s doors. 

We could also talk about benefits. The benefits. She asks for a couple favors - a helping hand to clean the house (yours or hers) as an example - you have some requests of your own, mostly to just have a quick bite of her cooking or pull some aged alcohol that was gifted to you a long while ago, half  the bottle already gone before the end of one night. It usually ends up with you sinking inside of her, caressing her gentle body, kissing the nape of her neck when your hips mesh with hers perfectly. 

It’s a new fun that’s profound in yourself. This super popular model that has every hot contact of companies you could name off the top of your head in her phone, taking a quick hiatus for some ‘me’ time. She’s got a solid income, her closet is full of brands that you take note of to give to Dahyun later down the line, and the sex man, it’s just fucking- well, terrific. 

If having Sana all to yourself was the prime exclusivity in its own right, the girls she invites over make everything much more interesting, just aside from the fact that she comes unannounced most of the time. Oh, and that girl in her picture framed back at her place, Chou Tzuyu, she’s a real sweetheart. You’ll have her tag along with Sana no matter what time of the day it is (or night, because you’ll always be free outside of work when it counts). 

Sana usually stays in your house more compared to hers, and she usually seeks you out first with a longing press of lips on yours. Tender, sweet, before you get into the best part of your regular business day, bending her over the nearest piece of furniture and dumping a nice hot load between her thighs while she goes on doing whatever you need her to do around the house to keep herself busy. 

She doesn’t let you have your way that easily. There’s this business call you’re doing, talking about how the numbers don’t really add up for this list of statistic report you were handed an hour prior, trying to fight the gravity of your head leaning forward–

“Sana, your fucking mouth. So good, jesus.” you mutter, cradling her head while she taps your cock on her perfect lips, laving her tongue over before she dips down again, pushing you past the tightness of her throat. 

–of the very person pushing your thighs apart underneath the desk when she primes at the very angle, bobbing her head slowly while maintaining that hypnotic friction of her hand over your shaft. 

You hit the key binded to the mute button on the call, not giving a single ear of the person in the session rambling about well, if we could get an extra day or two with the new inputs for the program, then maybe we the numbers that are put together can line up with the graph - ‘and, let me get this straight–’ 

“Mmph, god.” You’re broken down to just a few simple actions, combing Sana’s hair, guiding her silkly mouth onto your cock, and she doesn’t let up the fucking pace. You’ve got your fingers intertwined with hers on your thigh, not giving a care of how she’s so persistent to get you off like this, choking, drawing back for some air - her pinky and ring finger moving in this motion on the tip that has you shuddering. 

“Such a fucking hard worker,” she says, biting her lip, the glare in her eyes that’s nearly demonic while her tongue slips along the underside and upper part of your cock. “How could you talk so calmly while your dick is in my mouth?” 

“I’ve had practice before,” you answer, slightly smirking at the memory of Dahyun doing the exact same to you long ago, it’s no different.

Keeping it together wasn’t the option anymore, while the rush of Sana’s mouth is drawn back to you, proceeding with the online meeting as planned, discussing the future plans delegated to your coworkers. Too bad that they can’t hear the litany of gurgles and gags happening below your desk, struggling to not use one hand and keep Sana buried under there, watching with that lustful look in your eyes when she knows you’re about to pop, the shake of your leg as the sole hint to what she needs before putting both hands into the mix, all wet while every ounce of focus gets diluted to the ceiling. 

The meeting eventually ends while groaning at Sana’s throat bottoming you out, spilling inside that heat with a weak buck of your hips, shoving everything into her where your balls meet her chin. It just happens, more and more; her mouth is so fucked for you that some of the cum gets on her teeth when you slide out of her. The worst part: you’re still fucking leaking, getting it on her bottom lip, another rope above her eyebrow; the splatter doesn’t even end when she lightly presses a thumb down at the base and you get another drop to her cheek - it still isn’t fair when she wraps her fingers around, lightly stoking while your entire lower half of your body is still twitching once the work is all done. 

Sana can be evil, but she goes back to being a bundle of joy when she plants a kiss to the tip, pushing your chair back and kisses you back on the lips, wiping some remnants of your cum from your lips onto her fingertip while she sucks them cleanly. “Productive call?” 

“Got a few more clients to talk to, but thanks. I needed that.” you sigh, fingers on her chin to assess the proof, nodding Sana off to go ahead and wash up before cooking lunch. 

“You still want the usual meal?” 

–

Sana goes away for a few days, and the place gets hollow again. 

You have the phone in your ear with your manager to talk about potential vacation time (talk about great timing too), and with a press of a button on the TV, you see the headline on the channel broadcast: 

Dahyun and her firm won the trial. Which means that she’s finally coming home.

–

Dahyun’s homecoming is a bit short lived when you wait for her right on the street, her personal chauffeur rolling away while she’s walking to you with a duffel bag, a carry-on luggage, and her briefcase that she sets down before jumping into your arms. She smells soapy, a nice tinge of lavender when you bury your nose into the midpoint of her collar and neck. You tell her that you’re proud, give her the necessary congrats before dishing out the reassurance that you didn’t burn the goddamn place down while she was out saving her own job. 

“You didn’t miss much,” you say, watching Dahyun take a longing bite of the salmon dish you cooked for her, the hum of approval with that smile you’ve missed so much for god knows how many weeks has it been. “Besides the fact that you were saving your career, I kept myself busy with the projects at mine.” 

“Really,” she starts, “I would think that you’d drive yourself insane up until I finally managed to get back. That racing sim setup would literally drive your attention away from me, so I thought that was one of the things to keep you busy.” 

“I didn’t even have the whole thing unboxed yet,” you manage, swiping her glass of water for you to drink out of while she drives the knife into the food for another slice. “If anything, I was just cooped up in my office while keeping the house nice and tidy.” 

“Good to know. Have you been doing stuff with the others while I was gone?” 

“Who do you mean?” 

“I mean. Jihyo, Mina, maybe even Sana.” Dahyun says, and your gaze shifts from stoic to this more pensive one; like the last name makes you remember things that you’re not supposed to. “You did help with Sana right?” 

“I did. I was hoping that she left a handful of messages for you to read when you got off the plane.” 

The doorbell rings, and your wife is quick to answer it with that fast-paced walk of hers. By the time she opens the door, the home is filled with a familiar sound that was echoing through the hallways not that long ago, a week, three weeks even. 

Sana greets Dahyun with a loving embrace much like yours earlier this morning. Their conversation was pretty much filled with the usual ‘when did you get back?”, ‘you have to fill me in on everything that happened at your work!’, and ‘did you give him a hard time with the stuff you asked him to do?’ All of these questions have your head at an angle when you see the pair of them cling onto each other, like lost friends who haven’t seen each other but miraculously reunite at an airport after who knows what time frame you’d put them in. 

(Sana gives you this gaze, one that will have you kicking your heels while she combs down Dahyun’s hair, that sly smile of a girl who knows what they did, what she does to you.) 

You do nothing, just give her the simple wave and smile like nothing ever happened, while your mind plays a whole different tune and movie in the back of your head. 

–

(A small tidbit about montages: these moments in time from here on out to help shape up how stories play going forward. It’s not pretty, playing Sana’s game of chess while the ‘oh, my wife doesn’t know I cheated on her with her best friend who just happens to be our next door neighbor’ runs in your head. 

The blips don’t also fucking help either:

Instance #1: Another house party hosted by you and Dahyun where you bump into Sana in the kitchen, who returns with a playful tap to your crotch and a smack to your ass that has you buckling forward while you hear her laugh fade into the crowd.

Instance #2: Sana comes over for a movie night with Dahyun. While she went to use the bathroom, she uses this as an advantage to straddle over your lap, sucking your face up with her lips like a vacuum in the dark before she hurries back to her original spot on the couch, fixing up her hair and wiping her lips, playfully pointing at the hickey underneath your jaw that has you rolling her eyes by the time Dahyun settles back in the seat.  

And finally, instance #3: The infamous office room incident. Where you had a dinner party with the neighbors again to celebrate your promotional achievement of heading this massive project that would benefit into making electric cars more affordable for the common money maker. Everyone is having fun with the drinks and partying aspect of it while Sana is on her knees, again, in the dark, deepthroating your cock with the door open for anyone to notice. All urges are off the table when you and her stow yourselves away into the guest room (with the meticulously placed soundproof foam pads all over the walls) when you have Sana’s light body bouncing over your cock, hammering down her hot cunt for a few minutes while she bites her own finger when you switch up the tempo to be more slow, loving, a deliberate way where she can really feel every throb inside her. She has a hand to the small of your back, you’re covering her moans with your palm, making her cum over and over until she’s walking to her house with a stutter in her step. 

More incidents did occur, but there’s got to be a sense of craziness if we’re thinking of going through all of them.) 

–

“I’d say that things are pretty normal now,” you say, arm around Dahyun’s back with fingertips just grazing the top of her ass, legs over your lap while taking shade on the couch in the backyard patio, hanging out with a quartet of drinks on the table, two for you, and the other two for Sana and Tzuyu. 

They’re here on another hot Thursday, not wanting to risk a brownout with the a/c running for more than the viable six to eight hours that you’d normally have while working, taking a dip in the pool for a bit. Two pretty girls in clad bikinis: Sana in a revealing two piece that barely covers her nipples and pussy, Tzuyu in a striking singular bathing suit that shows those luscious thighs almost having you drool when she gets out of the water. 

“This was so much better than just walking around in our underwear around the house.” Tzuyu says, laughing, grabbing her bottle of this brand you pulled from the fridge when she takes a nice swig. You remember the faint memory of waking up one morning with Tzuyu and Sana, both of them taking turns fucking you in different parts around the house. Tzuyu on the couch in the living room and Sana again on your office chair, hopping along your cock while you’re typing in a report on the desktop. 

Sana’s laugh fills the atmosphere when she talks about pushing Dahyun into the pool, her look unamused when you stare at her in bewilderment while she sees Dahyun slap your shoulder, motioning you to take on the defensive. “You really have nothing else better to do than to spend your time with us.” 

“You and Dahyun are good company.” Sana says, dismissively, hand on Tzuyu’s thigh to also include her in the conversation. 

Dahyun shifts her legs off of your lap, pulling them in towards her while you sit up, leaning forward for the empty bottles before you’re stopped by Sana and Tzuyu, who both offered to get another round of drinks back inside while you relax. The pair of them both walk away, arm in arm, two beautiful girls with both bearing breathtaking asses, all within line of your eyesight. 

“You don’t think I know,” Dahyun says, snapping your gaze immediately back to her. 

“Know what?” you say, crossing your arm over while she leans in closer to you, making a face that looks very serious, but not threatening. A lick of your inner lip sends you uneasy while Dahyun’s eyes stare deeply into your soul. That deepening pit of anxiety inside your stomach has you second guessing on whether or not being honest and transparent with your wife should be the best route to go knowing what you did. What you’ve done. 

“Nothing,” she answers after, “Wanted to test something out of you.” Dahyun then leans her head into your collarbone while you stare out into the blue horizon hearing the sounds of Sana and Tzuyu come back with another bundle of bottles waiting to be downed. 

–

This happens entirely on a whim, and when you’re not even a part of the picture. 

Sana answers the door to her house, eyes shooting up when Dahyun’s at the top step, smiling with a bag from the bakery and a full bottle of sparkling cider. 

It’s the usual game of the catch-up conversation, Dahyun talks about her draining work from the trial, plus her extended vacation time handed by her boss. Sana talks about the upcoming collabs that she’s been appointed to, a plane waiting with an open door for her on the taxiway by the end of the month. 

Exchanging laughs, quick memories of their past hangouts. The high-school reunion type vibe has this sense of nostalgic feeling between the two of them, but Dahyun drops the act completely out of nowhere to talk about more pressing matters. 

“How long?” she asks Sana, placing her glass neatly on the counter across from her. 

“What are you talking about?” Sana says, swallowing down a lump of bread down her throat, worrying. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“I know you’ve been getting cozy with him,” Dahyun says flatly, “I just want you to tell me if that’s true or not.” 

“About?” 

“Getting his dick all up inside of you like you wanted.” 

“I thought you were okay with it?” 

“I never said anything remotely close to that.” Dahyun sighs, grabbing the half-full bottle of cider before downing it straight from the opening, placing it down right after while Sana taps her finger on the counter. “Besides, he’s probably worried that our marriage is ruined.” 

“Doesn’t seem that way.” 

“Sana, what are you implying?” 

“What I’m implying,” Sana prompts sweetly, stepping towards Dahyun around the counter, snaking a hand down her waist where it’s open in the crop-top, kissing her by surprise. Dahyun’s mouth opens wider, fingers curling around the nape of Sana’s neck, like an old memory locked away coming to light again. “Is that we show your lovely man that shouldn’t be the case between us.” 

She dips her face into Dahyun’s again, the kiss more intoxicating than the first initial contact. It’s how Dahyun melts down from Sana, the way her spine curves backwards, Sana’s hands there at the perfect time to support her, both of them are panting into it, how open they were about their feelings for each other before you waltzed in to have Dahyun all to yourself. 

“I hate how I like you and him both.” Dahyun gasps when Sana plants her lips across her neck, her hands grasping her waist and ass that gets this hum of approval from Sana on her skin. “Maybe we could find a probable compromise to solve this little problem?” 

“Is it the same compromise I’m thinking of seeing his pretty eyes when we cum all over his cock?” Sana asks with a wink while Dahyun just giggles into her chest. 

“I love it when you and I are on the same page.” 

–

A sigh leaves your lips when you hear how the metal grinds inside the lock of your doorknob, pushing the front door open to see the surprise of an article of clothing, sitting at your feet, tilting your head to the side when you pick it up to see that it was a cropped shirt. The soft sound of the humidifier fills the eerie silence when your eyes notice another piece of clothing a few inches away from the shirt, connecting the dots in your mind realizing the trail of clothes up the stairs. 

Once up the steps, the pieces start to get larger: first a shirt, then some stockings, the door leading into your bedroom was ajar, the knob hanging with two pairs of panties. The hinges on your door squeak but so quietly, and your ears are greeted with a familiar laugh, not just one, but two. 

Without producing any more noise to make your presence known, your eye captures the sight of Sana on your bed, dipping her head lower to a girl laying underneath, caressing her face while the other girl giggles, returning the kiss openly. It’s pretty peculiar, when you also realize that both of them are naked on your mattress, it’s also really fucking peculiar when you connect the dots that the girl laying underneath Sana is Dahyun of all people. 

“I suppose that Sana’s little secret was finally let out by her.” you finally say, leaning on the door frame with the smooth wood wide open. And when the both look up at you, Sana looking up and forward, Dahyun looking from under while laying still, fuck, it’s sending signals to your brain at the image of them on top of each other like this, a mesh of skin on skin, their pretty faces stacked on their chins - you could sketch it on an easel, because that’s a literal art piece in real time. 

Your mind doesn’t even register the few seconds after, when both Dahyun and Sana make way towards you, the movement of their bodies in perfect sync, hypnotized at the way you watch how they stand on their tiptoes - ghosting their hands all over your chest and hips while your hands tend to their asses, palm at the defined fit of them, softly laughing. 

“We had,” Sana and Dahyun both say each word in different pauses, something straight out of a horror movie at the way they ad lib each other’s utterances. “An idea,” Sana adds. “That you’d hope you’ll like.” Dahyun finishes. “Would you like to see what we were discussing?” 

(God picked your battles, and maybe you could let him off the hook just this once.) 

“Impress me,” you simply say, while Sana pulls your head into hers when she kisses you in front of Dahyun. 

–

So Sana and Dahyun return to the positions where you first found them.

The only difference being, Dahyun hanging her head off the bed upside down, dragging her tongue across the seam of your balls while Sana’s tongue slips inside your mouth, her slender fingers giving these languid strokes to your cock while the pair of them just hum in content, getting you ready when all of the gears are primed to click. 

The contrast between the two of them, Sana being gentle with her lips while Dahyun is the complete opposite with hers, aggressive with the way her tongue swipes across the underside of your cock, her hands wrapped around your thighs to get more of those lavish licks at the base that has you counting stars behind your eyelids early. 

“How are you rock fucking hard?” Sana husks, brushing her lips against yours while Dahyun leaves a path of pecks to your inner thigh before she rolls her body over, looking up with her doe eyes while Sana lets herself fall right next to her, flipping her hair back while the sheets crinkle at the elbows, reflecting the same look before flashing her eyes back at Dahyun. “Makes me wonder who you’re gonna finish inside of at the end of this.” 

“Didn’t know that this was a competition,” you say, mind zoning out when Sana draws her tongue up your underside now in a quick lick, Dahyun smiling on the opposite end doing the same exact thing, that will most definitely bite back your words. 

It’s only right that Dahyun gets to be the first to push your head into her mouth, inhaling a bit while her tongue smoothes out across the area, delicately brushing along the length that sends the synapses in your spine on an electrical current. Sana just looks in awe at how much your wife is taking you, twisting a hand in play while she plants a wet kiss to her temple. 

You could get lost in the finesse of how Dahyun’s small hands skate up your length, the cushion of her mouth already enough to have your tongue between your teeth, but Sana didn’t come her to just watch, tapping lightly on her shoulder and sliding you out of one heat into the next, and the expectation you had for Sana blowing you always gets thrown out the window. 

“Fucking whore she is,” Dahyun rasps when Sana lowers her lips more down your cock, rolling along with the lightest graze of her teeth along the top, a twitch of your legs with a billowing puff of your cheeks to let them know that what they’re doing is working. How many times has he let you blow him under the desk? You hear Dahyun ask Sana, pulling some stray strands of hair from her side when she clasps her lips at the base, keeping you there in the sweltering heat. 

“Oh Dahyun,” Sana reprimands, “You have no idea how much I’ve made him cum while you were away.” 

A hand is thrown into the mix, behind both of their heads when they meet the glints in their eyes, uniformly taking your cockhead from the side, slowly sliding down at the suction, how they both fluidly slide you in their mouths in alternating fashion. Sana popping with her mouth, Dahyun swiping along the slit the next second. 

“Christ girls,” and you could hear the giggles of satisfaction to your amazement when they both have a hand along the length, stroking slowly to the point you can’t even look them in the eye. “You had this planned for a while now, haven’t you?” 

“I was against Sana’s crazy idea,” Dahyun purrs, face flushed when you notice that Sana’s hand is at her rear, fingers dipping into her cunt that’s already slicked up, waiting to be stretched, “but then she convinced me otherwise after some- propper persuasion.” 

“Tell me,” Sana chimes in, that innocent pout with her pursed lips doing absolutely no justice to how she looks right now, “Who do you think is the bigger slut between the two of us, me? Or Dahyunie?” 

Dahyun guwaffs when she leans into your palm, slapping your cock along her lips while you thumb the soft skin on her temple, swiping the underside of your head makes you grit your teeth at the amount of teasing they’re both doing. “Maybe he should fuck our faces to see,” she suggests, “Who could choke the hardest over this fucking cock.” 

(With a pair of wide open eyes, you could only mouth the word, “fuck.”) 

“You’d like that anyway, won’t you daddy?” 

The obedience settles in when both of these girls let their hands rest on the edge of the bed, finger and thumb wrapped around your cock when you tell both of them to hang their mouths open, rubbing your tip around the rim of Sana’s lips when she opens wider, wider until her jaw fully slacks at the whole length, and you love how she’s a pro at this. 

You take your deserved pleasure of how each of these girls' mouths feel around you. Sana’s lips being so unbearably perfect with those pretty lips of hers, sliding out and have Dahyun practically inhale your cock next, her eyes blinking up over the tight seal she has over you. “Jesus, baby–” 

Sana helps play the guide fucking your cock more into Dahyun’s mouth, the subtle flick she has sliding around with every move and thrust flushing into her throat. Her small lips were already ahead of the curve mirroring Sana’s movements a few minutes ago, the pressure sending waves from your hips up, lightly clutching her hair to keep the ache building. 

“Taking your baby so well, huh?” Sana growls over the sound of Dahyun desperately slipping her head down your length. “You like how she’s deepthroating you after not having your cock for a whole month?” 

“Feels so fucking good,” you answer, spreading your legs apart to keep Dahyun’s mouth on your cock warm, moaning so loud when Sana’s other hand works your balls, fingernails scratching along the ridges of skin while she fingers her, the moans sending vibrations along your shaft nearly breaking you. “Keep- gonna cum on this pretty fucking face.” 

Borderline filthy, almost off the fucking rails. Sana doesn’t like to play fair when she pulls Dahyun off of your cock, the drag of her tongue stripped off with a line spit connecting to her lips that’s soon catered to Sana’s mouth kissing Dahyun again, and the sight in itself is a blessing that you’ll never take for granted, how their faces tilt every second they meet, the smile breaking at the corner where you could notice them, delicately letting their fingers explore their faces, hooking into their hair and necks, the rise and fall of their shoulder every breath taken. 

Sana’s head spins out of control when she’s pushed onto the pillows of the bed, propping on her elbows while Dahyun spreads her knees apart more, kissing up the line of her inner thigh. “Dahyun,” she rasps, head reeling back when she’s getting close to the center, “I’ve been dreaming of this to happen for so long: you eating me out while your husband is oh- looks like he’s already ahead of the–” 

You don’t pay attention to their short exchange of words, relishing in the taste of Dahyun’s pussy, licking past the slit when you grip her asscheeks a little more tighter, a slip of the tongue over her clit, lapping up in the ways that you know your wife likes. 

Like the trail of clothes to the bedroom, your vibrations transfer up to Dahyun’s mouth and into Sana’s cunt; it’s a connecting line of fucking when you slide your tongue deeper, where the heat is the most hot, hooking your arms over Dahyun’s thigh’s while Sana grips her head, whimpering the moans where she’s left struggling for air. 

“Look at us, Dahyun, shit, he’s eating away at you, you’re eating away at me, this is so fucking good.” 

Sana’s the first to sputter, the amount of hums in approval, cracking under the faults. You and Dahyun are on the same page when you’re slipping two fingers in - then three; Dahyun catches on while getting fucked over, adding her four fingers into Sana’s stretching pussy. She’s gonna lose it. 

That whine she makes, when she’s over the edge, it’s the missing symphony in your ears. 

“Yes, I’m cum– gonna fucking cum,” she cries out, Dahyun leans all the way in, back arched in a way that would rival a gymnast. The way your fingers are clutching at her snowy skin, enough to easily scratch and draw bruises, she’s quivering when you’ve also made her reach the peak like Sana: these meaningless sounds, air getting more static through their tracheas. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Dahyun whines out matching Sana’s volume, hips tensing while your mouth is pressing against the pucker of her ass, tongue and finger tag teaming while she fucks Sana through her sensitive pussy, past the first hurdle of cumming and skating a pair of fingertips over her clit, making Sana lock her knees while the circles on her nub continue, speaking complete nonsense and in mewls. 

“I’ll fuck you now, just like you wanted.” you spit, pulling yourself closer to Dahyun by the hips, her whole body relaxing when you have the head of your cock, skimming the folds of her pussy while Sana cradles her head on her boobs, leaving languid kisses while Sana puts her legs up underneath. 

“Need it–” Dahyun pants, only to be shut up by Sana kissing her again to keep her dazed. 

“What do you need, honey?” you ask, leaning forward to kiss the line of her back, hand massaging her waist before you retract your hand up the dunes of her hip, onto the divot of her hip while impulsively smacking your wife’s ass that makes her yelp at how hard you hit it. 

“Your cock- need your cock inside me-” She can barely answer while she’s drunk at the teasing of your cock along her pussy while Sana’s lips work her neck. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Well, he’s gonna have his work cut out for you isn’t he?” Sana asks, massaging Dahyun’s waist while the top of your thigh meets Sana’s ass, licking your finger to make her squeal when you rub it on her clit, and you get several. “Fucking our brains till we’re drained.” she tells you, watching as you stroke the length of your cock. How long could you hold out? How much can you handle? You’ll be good for us, let you easy- until you’re cumming a whole fucking mess. 

Sana means business, Dahyun is already putty just waiting to be put back into a tube and spilled over on the bed. “You two will be good girls for me, and I’ll fuck you guys right.” 

You mean what you say, it’s in existence. And when you push your head into Dahyun’s perfect pussy, the opening rips out a tone within her that you’ll always remember - sucking in an air at the clamp, taking you all the way. Sana smiles at the wince Dahyun makes, holding her face when you pull back, slowly thrusting halfway, the tightness leaving you speechless. 

That very moment where you’re sinking - where you don’t even have to say anything. (Because Dahyun was just made to take your cock that doesn’t feel undeserving at all.) Her ass is spread out, cunt gripping the whole fucking length while she buries her head into Sana’s neck. You could also hear a hush come from Sana’s lips while you’re still fixated on your cock disappearing inside of Dahyun. 

“Just-” Dahyun sputters, the octave in her voice going up pitch by pitch, fucking her soaking hole while you’re pushing everything to the possible ability you can, where you can feel the clench around your head, sobbing, hands over the dough of her ass, getting her cock drunk until you senselessly empty yourself inside her. 

“Harder,” Sana chides, tongue on the neck while she’s the supporting beam of the shaking girl laying on top of her. “I want her to be broken in two.” 

So you keep pounding, this familiar angle with your hips to where Dahyun has died before, shrieking while she feels like she’s floating in her head. When you see her head move over to the side, her profile in view, you’re blown away by the fade of her blush, Sana’s hand underneath to her chin, her back arched to the highest point she could possibly have it in, pistoning yourself in like it wasn’t the daily routine as it is, not ever realizing that it would never stop being like this. 

When her moans reach the apex, you could see Dahyun mouthing something, a wobbling lip hindering for her to even say the words properly - Baby, I’m gonna fucking– cum so hard on your- 

One final push in, and her entire lower half shakes, a dam finally cracking under the pressure. 

Sana’s just there to admire the artwork of her face, while reassuring that everything will be taken care of once all of this is done, a kiss to the lips while your cock continues to slowly plunge deep, cumming on your hips, the warmth too comfy to even leave. This would be great, one more sense of presence in the bed that will be a mainstay from now on. 

“Look at you doing so well for him,” Sana says, and she’s still laughing, drunk on the sounds of Dahyun while her half-lidded eyes are telling a different tale. “You’ve missed his big fucking cock, fitting so perfectly inside you, hmm? Look at how much you creamed all over him, ugh, filthy.” 

Dahyun just shudders while you’re massaging her inner thigh, pulling the head of your cock out of her fucked pussy, slapping the head agasint the sensitive clit, and you chuckle lightly at the small twitches she makes every hit that she feels; once, twice, thrice, and even the fourth. 

“Was that enough to satisfy you?” you ask, learning over to get your face in between the two pretty girls, getting a whiff of your wife’s hair while Sana’s quick to plant her lips on the cuff of your ear, bold, trying to hide how badly she wants the next go at you railing her. “Could you take more tries before your cunt gets my load all up inside of you?” 

“She’s not gonna answer that for you right away.” Sana sliding herself down, her fingers fluttering around your shaft. She does these circular motions alongside the skin that had your head sideways the other day back on the couch, realizing how sterile you were at being delicately handled, she’ll play that to her advantage, and she always finds something new. 

“Now that you had your fill with her,” she continues on with this while showering Dahyun with peppered kisses across her breasts. “Don’t you think I should have a go? Make you throb to the point where I get to feel the teeny bits of precum before you burst?” 

“Sana, that’s not nice.” you tell her, lightly tapping Dahyun’s waist, leaning over to the nook of her neck to whisper something. Have her something to do while keeping Sana’s mouth occupied, because I hate how she doesn’t shut up about things like these. And Dahyun follows along, still coming down on her high, shimmying her way up on her knees and when she finally hovers over Sana’s face, you see the quick peek of her tongue tip in preparation while your fingers are working fast around Sana’s thighs, pulling her towards you and priming Dahyun for the perfect angle. 

“Should we shut this little slut up, honey?’ Dahyun asks, biting her lip at you while you slapping your cock along Sana’s folds, to an amount enough for her to hide the growl coming out of her mouth. “I think she’s a little too antsy for the both of us.” 

“Ladies first,” you smirk, providing the common courtesy, dipping your cockhead in before backing out, catching the small ‘fuck’ being let out by Sana. Dahyun takes the quick moment of weakness as an opportunity to finally sit on her face, her hand also quick to rub her clit while the woman’s open mouth on her pussy starts to tear away at the threads, and you know Sana well enough to describe the feelings. 

It’s listed as this: tight, so fucking tight to the point that it should be considered to a world class delicacy that’s not meant to be enjoyed leisurely. 

That sharp draw of air through the thin lines of your teeth, finding that leverage into her cunt, easing into her, trying not to get ahead of yourself when she’s finally flush with your hips. You could hear the hum of satisfaction through Dahyun, her hand gripping Sana’s hairs between her legs, lightly grinding her cunt over her wet, hot mouth. 

“Right there, yeah, there we go.” How your cock stretches alongside the walls, spreading her apart. It’s always a real show to keep both eyes open on, no quarter of the inch left behind. Sana would be this tornado that swoops in places, taking people off their feet. In trade for that, she offers a grace with her person - a vibe that comes off as rich, tied to materialism, to be used as a personal fucktoy when the time is right, and that instance of ‘time’ happens to be legitimately, every time. 

You could take days to figure out how you managed to get in this position. It’ll only take you hours, minutes; hell, maybe even less than a few milliseconds to wrap your head around the fact of how full you make Sana with your cock, providing the same structure of strokes, slowly building up pace like with Dahyun a few minutes ago. 

“How’s he feeling, Sana? Does he fill you up well like he said that he would?” Dahyun finally says, hair curtaining the right side of her face while Sana’s eyes can only look up while her mouth works her pussy again. The gluttal sounds of moans and chokes and smacks of Sana’s lips on Dahyun’s other lips, the only thing that she can do while you’re splitting Sana apart, her also doing some small movements so that she could fuck herself back onto your cock. 

Dahyun pulls her hips up for Sana to speak, “Oh baby, it’s fucking me so deep. Want him - want daddy to fuck this pretty pussy–all for him.” 

“Is that something you can do…fuck her cunt the same way you fucked my cunt?” 

This takes a pause, flashing a gaze to Dahyun while you could feel the muscles flex in Sana’s legs and hips, driving yourself into her continuously, keeping a rhythm in check. The demand that’s being proposed doesn’t even register in your mind and Dahyun does this swift motion of doing a complete one-eighty of her hips, pressing her ass down onto Sana’s forehead, leaning over with a hand onto her waist while the other pulls your face in with her small fingers. You’ll have to pay attention, because her lips are quick to keep you from snapping out of Sana’s perfect pussy. 

“What are you asking me to–” 

“I want you–” one kiss to get you drunk from Dahyun, “to fuck her properly–” another kiss to keep focus, “until she cums–” nothing wrong with having a third kiss, “all over this perfect cock.” 

Your hand is quick to reach across for Dahyun’s breast, kneading it in a way that she knows that she’s still yours, her eyes flickering down to the sight of your cock sinking back into Sana’s blown cunt, floating a pair of fingers on the clit, watching as you tear her apart, not wanting to shy or look away herself. 

Sana’s quick to pull her face off of Dahyun’s ass, gasping for air before sweeping the flat of her tongue across her pussy once again, “So fucking perfect for me, daddy, please, don’t stop,” is what she says to you while you can see her legs go limp slightly from the sides. 

The creaks of your lofted bed frame are singing at the shift of movement between the bedsheets and pillows, pulling yourself (with Sana inside still) up to the edge, planting both of your knees when you bottom yourself a little bit more deeper. You notice the image of Sana’s face fucked out, how she’s blushing, twisting her head to the right with her eyes closed, Dahyun manages to stave off to the side, taking a momentary break while you carry on with teasing Sana’s swollen clit, getting a few whines, moving her head against the sheets in a brief tantrum. 

“Had enough yet?” you had the frame of asking, smiling alongside the line of Sana’s neck while the temporary angle of your cock just nudges that one spot you’ve managed to hit a couple times, the symphony of Sana’s little ‘oh’s’ when a small move of the hips just has Sana’s cunt clenching the head of your cock to send you gasping as well. 

“Stop - stop with the questions,” she huffs, body stiffening before the wave of relaxation when you’re leaving more pretty bruises along the drawn canvas of her middle, licking up the deserved sweat of your hard work that’s also staining the sheets, along with the soaking that’s between your legs and hers. 

You get a command, Sana looks up in a panic when Dahyun tells you to start fucking her harder, lifting the small of her back to get her horizontal with the mattress. 

The levels just only seem to go up higher than then; Sana’s eyes being pulled down and rolled back. She knows you’re hitting the right spot, because of how she’s lightly pulling her legs up, you doing most of the support when she’s drawing these hitches of air, shuddering all over your waist while you push her beyond that edge. Her head is doing this bobbing motion when you slide with that upstroke, and you could feel the drag of her nails digging into your forearms that would seem accidental in another circumstance. 

Dahyun plays spectator, catching her breath, hand toying between her thighs while you’re fucking the girl beneath you into a spilled puddle all over your lap. 

“Are you seriously getting off without my help?” you ask, effortlessly gliding into the folds of Sana’s cunt. “Touching yourself while your best friend is taking my cock, sweetie? God, look at her, she’s wrecked.” 

Sana pulls you in with little strength she has left, able to get her arms around your neck and shoulders, tightening that pull even more against you. 

“Want you to cum,” she pleads, “I want you to cum inside and just, fuck, you don’t–” It’s miserable, hopeless, the power you have to just do exactly that with the way both Dahyun and Sana are both moaning and panting and just straight up rubbing both of their swollen clits while the length of your cock is still drowning in one of them. 

It’s how you do these broad strokes, slowly, strategically, a technique that you’ve perfected over the amounts of times you’ve got yourself completely fucked over, balls tapping above the pucker of Sana’s ass when pulling yourself in from the top of her thighs, a holding point while doing the best punishment of teasing you could ever do for someone like her. 

(Calling Dahyun over: shut this bitch up for me, please?) 

It’ll do you numbers in which: you’re still fucking Sana insanely hard still, with Dahyun’s head hovering above the present action. 

Sana’s clutching on to Dahyun’s leg, pressing her eyes into the skin, not wanting to let this fantastic feeling ever end, muttering all of the lovely things that she’s told you before multiple times. You could see the tug on her lips, tilting your head at how familiar the look was because you’ve seen it the first few times at how she couldn’t believe that you’d feel this good inside her, to get her stomach transformed into ashes and have her seeing stars. Sana’s body is “Pandora’s box’ full of lust, just waiting to be opened until you’ll give her opulence of what she needs from you, to fill her up. 

“Fuck her through and through,” Dahyun orders with this hint of anger, “need to see her cum–” 

“Give me your mouth, princess,” retreating from Sana’s exhausted cunt and getting Dahyun’s mouth all over you, cleaning up the mess of Sana’s slick right off of your length, stomach dipping when her throat swallows almost the entire half. 

Your ears are zeroing in on the gags your wife is making on your cock, doing a double feature while her fingers are rubbing Sana’s clit to keep that ache, grasping a high ponytail with one hand, sucking away that will have you dreaming that the tension is almost tempting of spilling inside her throat right at that second. Dialing back with what little warning you have left, slipping back into the other hot warmth below her chin. 

Despite the numbness clouding your brain, the obscene sounds of hums and whines tie in perfect tandem while you’re gliding back into Sana’s cunt, alternating between the tender rings of muscles, stretching around your cock in a one-two step: Dahyun’s mouth sliding and slobbering down your length, teasing Sana with your cockhead in her cunt massaging the walls around that squeezing vice. 

You’re not at fault for when it happens: face red hot from within, the sound that rips through your vocal cords while your knees buck at the sensation of Sana’s ass bouncing back off the edge of the bed, and the small gyration of her hips when you’ve driven all the way to the hilt, she can sense it too.

Again, you’re not at fault for the way your cock pulsates that first second inside Sana’s sopping fuckhole, the first shots at the deepest pit where you could take it, twitching while you’re trying to save yourself from losing all of it from the first hold. Any second longer inside that lovely heat will have you rethinking your life choices up until this point. 

You pull out, fist tight around your cock when you could see the lower point of your tip, giving an act of generosity firing another shot of cum inside Sana, cock out in the air where Dahyun sees the opportunity to lean in, drinking in the remaining spill that–

Scratch that, it’s not remaining, because you’re cumming everywhere. 

There’s drops of white spilling from the front of her lower lips, pumping out the leaks on the flat of Sana’s stomach. Shit, you even managed to get a few globs on Dahyun’s cheek, even up to Sana’s right tit. It’s all fucked, you almost topple over on top the both of them, the arm serving as a last gasp foothold while the color drains from your face. 

Dahyun pushes you up with both of her hands, staring at you with the splotches of your release slowly sliding down alongside her cheek. She’s taken aback with the load, but what she does with it–

(Well, don’t be surprised. She’s the love of your life for god’s sake.) 

Two fingers skate off some of the cum off her profile, rubbing it on her lips. You draw yourself away while Dahyun helps Sana sit up on the bed, her hand quick to dip under her cunt where she picks up more of your cum that you’ve spilt inside. Sana catches on quick to lick off the cum off of Dahyun’s cheek, tongue sliding across the plane to swallow, the small ‘mms’ and audible smacks of lips colliding. Dahyun just laughs when she examines her palm, placing it underneath her mouth and Sana’s both of them licking the dribble up like two birds in a bath, washed over with sweat and slick and filthy and–

“So fucking gross,” Dahyun says, finger to the arch of Sana’s brow, wiping a wisp of hair off. “Like, are you gonna be so full of yourself–”

“Hey,” Sana tuts, “Don’t get all mad now that I’ve managed to push his buttons better than you.” She then slumps herself over Dahyun’s lap, hand massaging her waist while Dahyun leans back on her palms, crossing one leg up the edge to support her head. They both get secluded in their own little world, whispering these different sayings to each other with a soft smile at one, a scrunched nose to the other. 

You manage to slot yourself to the side, next to Dahyun, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, “I thought this wasn’t a competition over me.” 

The pair simply roll their eyes, Dahyun runs her fingers through Sana’s hair, unconsciously, affectionately. They’re still coming down from all the fucked out clarities while they simply - just - look. Being proven wrong wasn’t that much of a loss in itself; in fact, it was actually inviting when you’re giving them the same confused expression that has the brain questioning everything from the plain existence to whether or not this new reality was even sustainable amongst the three of you. 

“We could all agree to an accord together,” Sana says enthusiastically, “like distinguished human beings- or, something like that.” 

(I mean, there’s a blueprint to draw up for that extra room anyway, but you’ll get to that later.) 

–

It’s during one Saturday morning, when the plates and bowls of today’s breakfast are already in the sink, you have a single carry-on duffel bag in your hand, placed on the highest step of the stairs, taking in that crisp air through your nose. Everything comes to a gentle slope, the clouds are high up in the sky, meshed up together, shielding the landscape from the beaming sun, and the time hasn’t even hit noon yet. 

“I just don’t get it.” you beam, elbows on the railing while your eyes get caught up in a pair of blue jay’s gliding past the street, fascinated by the companionship of nature. Only to have your attention drawn to the awaiting car on the driveway, Dahyun’s personal chauffeur (and to this day you’re still wondering if that person even gets paid or not). “All of this trouble of having a vacation, get reeled back into working, have more time off than expected, but still decide to take up another work order again?” 

Dahyun steps out the doorway, slapping your arm, leaving your face with a small wince that you play off with dead eyes. “I could call Nayeon to put in a word for Momo. If you’re making such a big deal out of it, I might as well tell them myself that I wanted more time off than need be.” 

“You said that it was work related.” you tell her as the counterargument.

“But it’s not!” Sana bursts out, all smiles while you’re walking down the pathway with another bag in your hand onto the asphalt. “Such a buzzkill, as if you didn’t want the whole place to yourself to burn down. You spend wayyyy too much time up in your little office, so consider this to be punishment.” 

“Where did this come from?” you ask, flustered, with arms up trying to play the innocence card. 

Dahyun pulls Sana’s singular luggage from her hand and into the trunk of the car, the bag you were carrying also next to be put before a shut off of the compartment. “We’ve been planning this for sometime, and now we’ve decided to do it. Together.” She pulls up her own passport with an airline ticket shoved in between the pages. You could probably guess where they’re going, judging from the assortment of clothes that they’ve packed, it must be somewhere tropical, like Cancun or in the Bahamas, maybe even Malaysia was on the cards, but you take it with a grain of salt. 

“Is this supposed to be a besties trip that I didn’t even know about until now?” you ask the two girls standing behind the car, leaning back onto the glossy material of the paint job while your arms are bridged between your chest. “I’m also assuming that this is predetermined–” 

“Stop being so analytical.” Sana groans out, “You really have to think twice about what our summer plans were?” 

“Maybe he just needs a few conditions.” Dahyun adds on, nudging Sana’s shoulder to which her face suddenly lights up in excitement. “Besides, he’s really good at reading between the lines, like, you know, he has a good thing for body language - go ahead, test him, I’m sure that he’ll show off like he always does.” 

(It’s how you catch yourself shaking your head downwards to the Earth, hiding the grin that’s breaking on your face because Dahyun knows how well you observe your surroundings. She’s trying to play dumb at the fact that she went ahead to grab your duffel bag while getting the shower ready for yourself. You also notice that Dahyun’s driver got her roughly about ten minutes early to put your bag in the trunk and pretend that nothing ever happened. It’s cute when she gets sneaky and mischievous, because Sana will always buy into what she devises to get you stressed, a migraine pounding through the back of your head, taking it out when you have both of them moaning underneath or straddled on top of you.) 

So you say: “Are there any guarantees to this if I do what you ask?” 

Dahyun puts her passport out in front, shifting her thumb over to show yours underneath. You pretend to be shocked with lifted eyebrows, but you already have them figured out. 

“Honey,” Sana says, blinking with her teeth peering through her smile, “I can guarantee that you've got us both.” 

[kitscutie]

hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹

snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!

word count: 2.2k

join my taglist here.

"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.

You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.

"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.

"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.

"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.

"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.

You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.

"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.

"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.

You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.

"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.

"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.

"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.

"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.

"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.

"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.

"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.

"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.

"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.

"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.

You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.

"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.

"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.

"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.

"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.

"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.

"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.

"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.

"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.

"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.

"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.

As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.

Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.

She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.

He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.

"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.

"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.

The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.

You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.

Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.

Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.

"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.

"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.

"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.

"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.

"Okay." You said.

"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.

His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.

Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.

"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.

"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.

"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.

"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.

"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.

"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.

"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.

"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.

"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.

You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum

[namjooningera]

I'm unsure if your Request are open, deeply apologizing if I disturbed you.

: Need more yandere captivated stuff, like them constantly clinging to their sweet love, locking the bedroom door at night and only giving their captivated lover permission to leave the room only if they're awake. ♡

mwa, absolutely love your writing.

Their rules - Yandere JJK

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji

AN: the boys’ rules for you, plus them being clingy. A bit of the past and background before they kidnapped u ;3

TW: starving, slight Stockholm syndrome, manipulative

Ahhhh yess requests are open thanks for asking!! (≧∇≦)b

Gojo-

Hes unbearable. His rules are short and simple, but the man himself is insufferable.

He clings onto you, legs around your thighs, head on your chest, while you lay in bed. You try to push him off, but the man is so much bigger than you. He doesn’t move an inch, it was like trying to move a brick wall.

You remember the first time he giddily told you the rules.

“Ok ok listen-“ he said in the middle of giggles, then straightened up his back to look serious but it was obvious he was still giddy.

“Hum.. No touching the stove when I’m around, No watching tv, that’s a reward not a privilege, you can earn watching it. No ignoring me, no sleeping without giving me a kiss or cuddles.”

He hums. “there isn’t much sweet thing…I just want you to be happy.” But his smile is sickly and you know there’s more to what he’s saying.

You know there’s unspoken rules he doesn’t say, like how you need to constantly keep him in a good mood.

When you were first taken by him, you rejected his every advance. Every time he wanted kisses or cuddles or even something simple, like for you to look at him. You said no, turned away, and slumped in bed.

At first he let it go. He was patient. He was just happy that you were there. That you couldn’t talk to others, look at others, and your attention would all be to him in no time.

But you refused this little charade, and you could see him slowly start to become more agitated. It’s when he stopped coming home to make you dinner (the dinner you barely ever touched anyway), and the way you felt like he was forgetting about you.

He’d always refill the things you ran out of. The bottle of water on your-his nightstand. The sanitary items and hygiene products you use. He’d always refill the pantry with all your favorite snacks and sweets.

But he stopped. And that got scary. Your mind was already in shambles, now you were thinking, what if he’s going to leave you for dead? Stop refilling, stop visiting, until you pass away in this locked hell.

Finally, he came home tonight. Around midnight. He never came that late before- it was always around 8 pm or 9 when he was really late, he always made sure to come home early enough to make you dinner.

You were starving, and you peeked from the hallway to see him stumble in, then throw himself on the sofa and then the tv on.

You weren’t really allowed to watch tv. You wonder if you could earn it. You watched him slump over, eyes heavy with a glare. He never really looked like this, honestly he always looked giddy and happy. Happy to come home to you. But now he just looked angry, upset, pissed. But it never seemed like it was to you.

He never showed you he hates you, he just stopped trying- stopped talking to you.

But why did that seem scarier than just straight up punishing you?

You slowly took a few steps out of your peeking spot, to be in his eyesight. Normally he’d be delighted, thinking you came to ask him for something or you wanted to talk, anything really. But this time he didn’t even look up from the tv. As if you weren’t there, as if he didn’t notice you.

That just added to your nervousness.

So you decided to do something incredibly stupid.

You hated his giddy happy side, but for some reason, you missed it know. At least before, the aura of the home stayed light and happy. Even if you weren’t happy. But now, the tension is fucking palpable. It’s heavy, and disgusting. You feel scared to even walk a few steps that’s how heavy the air feels right now.

Slowly you walk over to him. He doesn’t budge. His arms are spread at the top of the sofa as his body slumps back onto the sofa. His legs are up on the coffee table, eyes directed solely to the tv.

You sit next to him carefully. Slowly, you start to scoot over to him, slowly. So that his arm over the sofa would carefully be put over you.

Finally you scooted close enough that your thighs touched, and that your head slightly leaned onto his shoulder.

You were scared he’d hit you, scream at you, hurt you. He’d never done that before but what was stopping him from doing it now? Yes he was gonna hurt you for being stubborn for ignoring him, he’s gonna-

“I missed you.” He said with a sigh, eyes tired that bore into you, his voice was almost shaky, it was obvious he wasn’t feeling well. The arm laying on the top of the couch fell onto your shoulders, pulling you in. Cradling your body.

“You hungry?”

Yes, fuck yes. You’ve barely eaten in the last few days, solely relying on your pantry of snacks and sweets alone to quench your hungry, since he stopped making meals for you.

You nodded quickly and he smiled softly and ruffled your hair.

“Alright- too tired to cook. Let’s just order in ok?”

You nod immediately, digging yourself in more into his body. He smiles at this. You know you shouldn’t be touching him, listening to his dumb rules and letting him control you like this.

But you couldn’t help it. Things were just so much easier when he was happy. You got to eat, watch tv, and sure, you hated touching him, but he was just so warm.

That’s why, fast forward to now, you let him cling onto you in bed. Whining bout his day and how he doesn’t have enough time with you. How if he could just open your rib cage and snuggle inside, stay warm and with you forever he would. You think he’s crazy, weird, gross, but you don’t comment on it. You let him think your okay with all this, you let him nibble on your collarbone and let him whisper how he’s never gonna let you go, how your his for life and how he loves you like none before.

He’s warm. You notice. You notice his heartbeat, his breath on your collarbone, his eyes full of hearts and swelling with love. The way he huffs every time you slightly move away.

“H-hey umm I need to use the toilet can you move-“

“Can I come?”

Oh god.

Geto-

His rules were unknown honestly. He didn’t outright say any, he wanted you to think you had freedom. Like you weren’t being held hostage in his home. As if you were just his lover living with him. Like you had free rein.

As if he didn’t lock the bedroom door every night, thinking you were fast asleep. Like he didn’t keep track of every time you used the restroom, the shower, did your skincare and ate. As if he didn’t have those times and dates and stamps of every time you did so, so he could keep track of every little thing you did.

He wanted you to be happy and free in your home, he called it. After it all, he built it on all your necessities, all the things you use and like, so it is your home. It was made for you.

But there are the unspoken rules.

He hates when you get up from bed in the night, to go use the restroom. He wakes up in a jump, eyes wide and exploring the room, his hands roughly shoving the blankets off the bed to see your not there.

He panics. And he knows he shouldn’t. There are alarms everywhere, he has a tracker on you, he knows when you leave and when you stay and where you are at all times. He gets up quickly however, feet scampering to the bathroom door where he knocks on it slightly, asking you to come out.

He’s always been an okay-amount of clingy. But he panics a lot. He doesn’t show it- but he does. He thinks you’ll leave, you’ll die- or something. Maybe someone else will snatch you- a “monkey” or some curse. He’s seen the real world he knows how dangerous the average person can be so could you imagine blood thirsty curses? Ready to swipe your small body at any second and have you for a second dinner?

He’d never let that happen.

And he wants you to reassure him. He won’t ask for it but he needs it. Desperately. Tell him you won’t leave, you won’t die, that your safe- that he’s safe. That you’ll be together forever.

But you don’t. Because you hate him.

You use to, when you two were actually friends- no, best friends. You’d tell him all the time that he was safe with you, that your his best friend and you’d make sure that the both of you live a long and healthy life- together.

And that’s what stayed in his mind. Why’d you break your promise? Why’d you have to stop telling him these sweet things? Is it not true anymore? Are we not safe? Are you gonna leave- be taken away? Don’t leave.

He wakes from a bitter nightmare that same night. A treacherous feeling crawling his spine, panic in his eyes and his body thrashing. He looks at you. His sweet Angel. You could never do him wrong. But he needs your comfort, your reassurance.

“Angel? Angel wake up, please.”

You refused to, ignoring his please. The truth is, his panicking in his sleep woke you long ago, but you didn’t want to wake him up from his little nightmare. You perhaps wanted him to suffer just a little longer.

“Angel? P-please just..”

You rolled your eyes, body facing away from him on your side, still faking your sleep. He could deal with this on his own. You know one of his huge rules was to comfort him and nurse him like you used to- one of his unspoken rules. You know this because just a day after he kidnapped you, he came home with what he called “monkey blood” all over him.

He wanted you to clean him. Tell him to stop calling humans monkeys. He wanted you to bring him back, to keep him from the evil that plastered his mind. Because you were the only one who kept him a clear head, that kept him sane and on earth. Otherwise, who knows what he’d be now?

That day, when you didn’t comfort him, the day after he kidnapped you, he became desperate. Begging you almost, but then he stopped. Like a cloud of indifference and anger covered his eyes and he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you into a closet and locking you in.

You screamed, yelled, begged him to let you out. You went through all stages of grief basically, angrily screaming, then begging, tearing up, then calming down and crawling into a little ball in the corner of the closet. It was dark, cold, miserable. Dust got in your hair and eyes, you tried to dust it away with your hands but you felt so dirty. You just hoped he’d let you out soon.

He only left you for an hour or two- you don’t really remember. He didn’t wanna be too harsh on your first punishment. He still loved you after all, you were just being a brat. But then he dragged you out and sat you down at the dinner table. He acted like nothing was wrong, smiling at you and picking up a spoon of the food he made. He put it to your mouth, trying to feed you. You shook and trembled. You knew you couldn’t say no, or who knows how long he’d keep you in that damn closet? At least you’re free now right? You ate the food off his spoon, and let him feed you for the rest of dinner.

He was so incredibly happy that you were obeying him so early in the “relationship”, that he didn’t put you back into the closet, but instead let you watch tv. Of course, not without him sitting under the couch, while you sat on the sofa with your legs dangling on his shoulders, brushing his hair and braiding it like you did when you two were best friends. Before things changed.

“Angel please, I need you.” He almost whimpered.

You sighed, and got up, turning your body to him. “What was the dream bout this time?”

He’s always had nightmares, about different things. When you were best friends, he refrained from telling you them. Just wanted you to tell him it was okay, he just wanted to hear your voice and be lulled back to sleep.

Now he won’t shut up about them. Shameless, you think.

“Oh Angel.” He pulls you into his chest, a very much unwanted hug, one hand on your head and the other wrapped around your waist, he pulls the covers back on top of the both of you.

“It was terrible. You were hurt, my dear. Don’t you see why I have to keep you? You hurt- that would destroy me, my love.”

His words disgust you, but what really disgusts you is the way you know he isn’t lying. You can hear the genuine concern in his voice, that he genuinely thinks this is helping you, not just for his own selfish desire.

“Oh Angel, if you left- I wouldn’t know what to do.”

And that scares you. That scares you because he knows damn well you can’t leave. The cameras, the security, the alarms and the tracker. The way he tightly holds you as if your going to disappear into thin air. The way your almost out of oxygen with the tight hold, your chest and ribs being smushed against his. You could feel his heart beat, you could feel it trying to pounce out his rib cage.

“I won’t leave.”

What you meant to say is that you can’t leave, there’s no way for you to anyway, but you glance up at him and see that what you said was the right thing to say, a smile adoring his lips as he kissed your head softly.

“My sweet Angel. You always know what to say.”

Or you just know what he wants to hear.

Nanami-

Nanami had so many rules, regulations, all these things you had to remember.

“You need to ask me permission for certain things. Entertainment is a privilege you’ll be rewarded with. I have books and art supplies you’ll be using before screen time. Healthy snacks only- with the exception of dessert after dinner. You don’t get dessert if you’re being bad.”

He sits on the coffee table in front of you, wearing his work clothes, a nice suit and some goggles in his hands. You sit on the sofa in front of him, arms crossed in your chest out of anger but you listen anyway.

“The better you are the more freedom you have, my dear. I’d never want to take away the things that make you happy, but I can’t stop myself if your being bad. I want you in bed by midnight, or you sleep when I do. If I’m late from work and can’t make dinner I’ll send some- you’re not allowed in the kitchen until you get the privilege of it. You have a pantry full of snacks and healthy foods, and a water dispenser until I can come home and make dinner. I will make breakfast every morning.”

His damn rules and regulations go on forever, but at least you know what will make him upset and what won’t.

“Once you can prove your a good girl/boy, I’ll provide you with more electronics for your own entertainment, but screen time will be limited. I expect you to keep up with your hygiene and get enough sleep, eat well and continue your hobbies. I’d like you to greet me in the morning before I leave and at night when I come home- obviously this rule varies on the circumstances of the day.”

You sigh, further sinking into the sofa as he talks you down further.

“In the future, I expect goodbye kisses and greetings. If you ever need anything you just need to ask me. If you’re thinking on picking up a new hobby, you want new clothes, different snacks- I expect you to tell me. And lastly, you are never allowed to go to sleep angry. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I never want to argue before bed, and sleep angry with each other. We need to hash things out everytime, I don’t think it’s fair to each other, otherwise.”

You just nod, half the things going over your head but you know you should agree.

“Alright I’ll be home early today, okay? Goodbye my dear.” He gets up and stands near the door, waiting.

You look up at him from the sofa, then realize what he’s waiting for.

“Just leave.” You say upset, curling up into the sofa. He frowns, but leaves anyway, waving goodbye.

He had just kidnapped you. What was it the second day? He abducted you last night. Let you in on all the fun rules today.

Great.

Honestly, you’re still freaking out in your head a bit about all this. At first you thought it was some curse disguised as him, but you could sense his cursed energy was all him. No trickery, no fakes, it was him. He fought so hard but you were no match for him.

You definitely could have been, and that makes you laugh. You really could have. But he’s been watching you since high school. Watching your techniques, your moves, the way your body sways in fight and the way you dodge. The way you attack, everything. You’ve fought him plenty of times to train and for fun. You never thought- you never once thought he’d use it against you.

That he memorized your every move, adapted, the way he knew exactly what way you’d fight back, what way you’d dodge what way you’d try and escape.

How could he?

You were so upset, so betrayed. It hurt so much. You curled into yourself, upset, thinking bout the way he basically took advantage of you as friends. You thought you were fighting beside him, were you really just fighting him all along?

That day he came home, and saw you laid out on the couch, dried tears on your cute pink cheeks, your body curled to protect yourself, fast asleep.

He smiles at you, but it’s a soft sentimental one, one that has a hint of sadness.

He didn’t want to hurt you. Genuinely. But he couldn’t help it. Every year, being thrown into a friendzone, every year his obsession for you grew, he wanted you as his wife not best friend, every year he saw himself grow older- and was scared. What if he grew too old to get married? To have a family? Each year you showed the same care you should your friends, nothing grew into sweet love for him, and that scared him. In high school, he waited. Hoping that you’d mature and grow to love him. He stayed by your side hoping he wouldn’t have to do anything drastic.

But the time passes anyway.

And you didn’t seem to change.

And he carries you to your bed, their bed. The bed you share. When he places you down he caresses your head and hair, you kick him away in your sleep and that hurts him so deeply. He locks the door, sits on your bed and watches you. He had to do this. Don’t you see?

The way you would smile at him, laugh with him, love his seriousness and fight beside him. He loved that all about you. You two were meant for more then a measly friendship right?

He pulls you to him in your sleep, cuddling your unconscious body, snuggling his face into your nape and softly pecking your collarbone. He smiles at the way you whine in your sleep, trying to push him away and stop being smothered.

But he loves to smother you- he won’t stop. He lays almost on top of you, head in your nape, as he softly caressed your waist and hips, pecking your collarbone, smiling dazedly, almost drunk, off the cute sleeping sounds that leave your mouth, the breaths that leave your nose, the soft heaving of your chest.

He loves how domestic this is. His wife/hubby, his adorable lover and partner. His equal and forever. He believes that you two have always been together, that you’ve always cared for him as much as he cared for you- you just don’t realize it.

He eyes become heavy. Being in your arms (not that you were trying to keep him there), reminds him how relaxed he feels in them, that they make him drowsy and almost high off the feeling. His body almost slumps over, un-tensing. He had a long day of work. It was nice to come home to his loved one, to be in your arms, to be held and to hold.

If he could stay like this forever, the time not continuing, just you and him in a warp of space where time doesn’t exist, where you could be one. Where he could cherish you and spoil you forever and ever- reliving the lovely memories from when you were young.

A smile softly sets on his face as he falls asleep snuggled to you, he thinks, that he doesn’t need to live in the past. You two can make new memories, better ones. Memories, where you actually love him, not just as a friend, but as a lover.

His lover.

Toji-

He didn’t really have rules for you. He didn’t care too much about physical affection, sure he liked the average kiss on the cheek before he left to assassin some idiot. He wanted your attention obviously, but he didn’t mind you being a brat and never giving it to him.

“Alright I’m going to work.” He’s waiting for you. He’s waiting for you to run up to him and kiss his cheeks, tell him you love him, at least wish him goodbye. He felt desperate. Sad. He wanted you to just- why are you being so bratty?

“I’m going to work.”

He’s at the door, hand on the handle. You’re sitting on the couch. He lets you watch tv, sometimes he’s happy when you accidentally come across the news channel and see all the disgusting shit on the news, all those disgusting heinous crimes. Maybe someday you’ll see those and understand. Know that he did this all for you, it’s all for your own good. As cliche as that sounds.

“Im going-“ “Ok I get it!” You basically yelled.

He seemed startled. That’s when he starts to wonder if he was giving you too much freedom. You yelled at him. How could you? You want him gone, you want him to leave.

Alright he’ll give you what you want.

That day he came home, and cleared out the pantries and locked up the fridge. He left the next morning, telling you he had some mission that’ll last a few days. You just shrugged at him like normal, pretty happy you’d get a break from him.

But you didn’t realize his plan. His stupid crazy fucking smart plan. You opened the pantry. Nothing, just a few things you can’t really eat. Like a half full jar of peanut butter, uncooked pasta, some can of tuna. You opened the other drawers and cabinets. Condiments only basically. Salts and spices. But where was the food? Ok, it’s fine. You’ll cook something, grab some things in the fridge- wait what? Why was there.. a lock? Why’s it locked? It was never locked- oh. He did this. This is your punishment.

No, you’ll take it. If he wants to be an ass- you’ll just be even pettier and go with it. Then he’ll know not to test you right? He’ll essentially get worried that your not eating, then go buy more food and unlock the fridge.

Boom. Great plan right? Wrong.

Your stomach growled. It was what, the third day in to not eating? You thought you had more resistance then that- that you could hold back for longer. But no, your stomach was in pain and you felt yourself growing weaker.

You felt yourself getting desperate.

You decided to emergency call Toji. He had one attached to the security, where you could only call him, if ever an emergency while he wasn’t home.

You went up to the little screen on the wall next to the door, an iPad connected to all the security, well only he could access that part. What you could access, is the emergency call. But before you pressed the button to call you stopped yourself. Fuck you were hungry, but you couldn’t give in. Plus you knew he was angry. He wouldn’t just give in.

You needed to sweeten him up. You knew that he won’t just give in if you ask for food.

You slightly press the button, hearing it ring for a second before he picked ul and answered.

“What?”

Normally, he’d be asking if your okay, if you needed him, what’s the emergency. You know, all that. When he was actually worried. You gulped.

“O-oh! Yeah I called because I umm.. I miss you?” Yeah, not so convincing.

“Yeah, doll?”

“..yeah. When you coming home?”

“I don’t know.”

… He’d never answer like that before. He was being so dry? What was his plan? But then, the hunger, the dizziness, the weakness in your bones- you started to overthink. You started to think that perhaps he wasn’t coming home. He was going to leave you forever in this locked cage, alone, to die. And then you thought, what if his mission is going bad? And that’s why he isn’t being clear? What if he really doesn’t know when he’s coming home because where he is, is so dangerous he isn’t sure if he even will come home?

But if he dies, you die. If he dies, you die. If he dies you die if he dies you-

“TOJI please! Please please come home I can’t- I can’t be here alone anymore- I need you. Please Toji don’t die-“

“Die? Doll? What’s wrong?”

You start to sniffle, thinking about your own death. Thinking about different ways you’d die out, and all leads to one- alone. You didn’t wanna starve to death alone. You couldn’t.

“P-please? Come home? Miss you..” the genuine upsetness in your voice seriously surprised him.

“Ok doll. I think I can get home by tonight ok?”

“Toji?” You ask softly, sniffling.

“Yeah doll?”

“I feel so sick.” You whine, clearing your throat.

It’s like you could feel him smile from the other end. “Alright doll, don’t worry, m’ coming home soon. I’ll bring you some things on my way back. Kay?”

You nod, even though you know he can’t see you nod, he chuckled over the line as if he did.

This time, when he comes home, grocery bags in hand, you run up to him to greet him. Never like you used to.

It’s funny, you almost jumped on the man, you almost hugged him, you stopped yourself before you could, your mind reminding you that he’s your captor. That you hate him, that he tricked you and he’s evil and- oh but he’s so warm. You haven’t felt physical affection for so long. And he’s just so big like a cuddly bear. And you just- you can’t have him leave again okay? This isn’t fault. You’re not about to hug him because you want to, okay? It’s just.. you don’t want him to starve you again ok? Really it’s not because you.. you think he’s so cuddly. You think he’s so warm and inviting. And you could smell the food wafting from the bags he held- did he buy takeout? Oh my god- and from your favorite fucking place-

You softly put your hands around his waist, head on his chest, just holding him gently, scared that perhaps that wasn’t him but some figment of your imagination.

“Oh sweeeheart, you missed me that much, hm?”

You just nod, feeling disgusted but oh so satisfied. You don’t wanna look at him, you know you’ll be met with some smug smirk, that smirk showing that he knows he won, that now, you won’t exactly take him for granted.

“I brought take out cmon.”

Tehe I’d let them take me 😋 anyway, thank you sm for the ask! Requests are open yall! Also feel free to give me commentary! I don’t rlly write so 😭

[sanguineterrain]

Kurt wagner and tail stuff!!! I love that boy! I love how you write! I love the tail! Smashing them together we got a a little piece of heaven! So Kurt wagner with s/o and some tail action pretty please!!

(Like if you need some more then that: for example, the times before they were together Kurt’s tail always seemed to gravitate towards reader (I’m an advocate that Kurt’s tail is like a fricking mood ring) wrapping around them, touching them. The times when they were together! And the time reader wraps their hand or something around his tail or something)

Love your writing! You’re awesome and amazing! And I want to say in advance, thank you so so much for doing this ask! I will treasure it dearly! And if you don’t do the ask then thank you so so much to taking the time to read it! Have a lovely day!

ouuu this is a sweet request <3 tail boy! thanks nonnie :) hopefully I did him justice 🫶 changed the request a bit but kept the same idea about the tail. may write a part 2... we'll see!

kurt wagner (nightcrawler) x gn!reader. fluff, cooking, gambit and rogue trying to talk some sense into the reader.

note: I tried to capture kurt and gambit's accents. however, as always, I'm open to feedback on them. It's definitely not my intention to offend or miswrite anyone!

****

The smell of bubbling cheese wafts from your pot as you stir. It's been a while since you were able to cook for yourself and have a nice meal, always running out to do something or another for the good of the planet.

"Smells good," comes a familiar voice. A moment later, a tail curls around your wrist as you shake some paprika into the pot.

You look away from your stirring into golden, irisless eyes. Kurt grins at you.

"Mac 'n cheese," you say by way of greeting. "Want some?"

"Please und thank you."

Anytime you cook, you offer Kurt to share. You frequently have the thought that you spoil the hell out of him, but you can't help it.

He helps you out by putting away the milk and cheese. But he's never far; his tail remains on you. It slackens from your wrist, then explores up your arm and around your elbow.

It's nothing new, of course. The first thing you learned about Kurt Wagner is how physically affectionate he is.

"That tail seems to have a mind of its own, elfie," you say, smiling down at the pot.

"What do you mean?"

"It's always holding onto me." You turn off the burner.

"Ah." Kurt drops his tail. "My apologies. I can ease up, as you say."

You shake your head. "Don't. I don't mind. Never have."

So Kurt gives you one final tail squeeze. The fur on his arm tickles you as he brushes past. You watch him in confusion.

"Where are you going?" you ask, halfway through scooping two servings of the pasta.

"Not far," he says brightly. "Jean wanted me to bring spoons from the kitchen." He holds up three metal spoons with his tail.

"Spoons?"

He shrugs. "An experiment. Who am I to question a scientist's whim? I promise I will be fast."

He teleports away, and you have a mind to cover Kurt's bowl with a plate. You bring both bowls to the table. At last, a proper meal.

You don't mind eating alone, but that hardly ever happens with Kurt around. Even if he's just eaten, he'll nibble on whatever you've made. You don't know where he puts all that food—perhaps in another dimension—but he makes it a point to eat with you, regardless of whether you've cooked or not. Even if you're in the middle of the forest eating a tin of beans, Kurt will plant himself right next to you and keep you company.

He's a good friend. The best friend you've ever had, actually.

"Woo, smells good!"

Gambit comes in first, followed by Rogue, since the two are never seen apart anymore. Gambit, nosy that he is, makes a beeline to Kurt's covered bowl.

"And what's in here?" he asks, lifting the plate.

"That's Kurt's," you say. "You can get some from the pot."

"Mais, it's Kurt's, huh?" He glances at Rogue, who grins. "Hear that, chère? Not sure if I should take from the pot. Might take my head, too."

You squint as they share laughter. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, nothin'," Rogue says sweetly, taking the seat diagonal to you. Gambit sits next to her.

Your frown deepens. "I didn't say you couldn't have some, G, I just—"

Gambit shakes his head. "Don't go worryin' 'bout that. I'm just teasin'. I think it's cute how you feed the furball."

"Excuse me, I feed myself first," you say, and shovel a forkful of pasta into your mouth.

You hate not being in the know. It happens frequently, being that you're not a mutant. You're here on a personal invitation from Charles due to your "technology skills."

Really, you'd been brought here to fix Cerebro. And after that, you'd sort of just... stayed at the school. Charles had offered you a room, Kurt had won your friendship (or, perhaps, you'd won his), and you'd never left.

"Well, what do you mean, anyway? So what if I feed Kurt," you say, unable to stand not knowing.

"Just seems like where you are, Kurt's never far," Rogue says, watching you eat.

"Yeah, so? He's my friend."

"Oh, un ami. Is that what we're callin' it?" Gambit asks, eyes gleaming with mirth.

"What else would you call it?"

They look at each other in that Siamese cats way. Often, you've had the thought that they can read each other's minds—no powers needed.

"You really don't know?" Rogue asks, voice softening.

"Know what?" you ask impatiently.

Gambit makes a quiet noise in his throat. "Y'all don't know. He's gone on you."

Your brows rise. "Kurt? Don't be silly, Remy."

"Oh, great. You're both in denial," Rogue says, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you noticed how touchy he is around ya? Always huggin' and clingin'."

"Kurt's like that with everybody," you say. "He's like that with Logan!"

"Mais, the tail, it never lies," Gambit says with all the wisdom of someone centuries older. "He don't go wrappin' that tail 'round anybody."

Rogue nods sagely. "True. And he's always puttin' that tail around you."

"But he's..." You put your fork down in frustration. "That's ridiculous. Kurt would've said—I mean, there would've been a sign. He would've told me. Kurt doesn't hide anything from me."

"This is new for him, honey," Rogue says. "He's never been in love for real. He's not gonna act rationally."

"Alors, look at it this way. La Raison parle, mais l'Amour chante. Hm? His body betray his words. It sings to you. Jus' like I sing to ma cherie."

He reaches to take Rogue's hand, eyes practically heart-shaped. Rogue lets him, smiling in that secret, shy way of hers whenever Gambit is sweet on her.

L'Amour...

"Kurt is not in love with me," you say. "End of story."

They both heave sighs.

"Just watch his tail," Rogue says. "Kurt can hide a lot, but he can't control how he—"

BAMF!

You flinch as Kurt teleports into the kitchen. He grins and waves, then bounces around the table to greet the others.

"I'm back!" he says. "I hope my mac did not get cold. Will you be eating with us?"

"No, that's okay," Rogue says, looking at you meaningfully behind Kurt's back. "Rain check. We've gotta go train."

Gambit winks at you. "See y'all."

They disappear quickly. Kurt turns to you, blissfully unaware of your newly formed nerves.

"I am sorry I was gone for so long," Kurt says, sitting down to his bowl. "Jean had some questions about my abilities. Apparently, she's trying to replicate them in a machine."

"That's okay," you say. "Rogue and G kept me company."

Kurt beams. "They are so good for that, yes?"

He shovels a mouthful of mac 'n cheese into his mouth and groans in appreciation. His tail instantly curls around your wrist.

"Amazing!" Kurt says. "Perhaps your special ability is your cooking, hm? I would believe it."

You laugh. "Danke, elfie."

"Bitte schön," he says, eyes lighting up at your German. He frequently informs everyone about how good your German is becoming, even though you hardly know ten phrases.

His tail begins to stroke your arm. You wonder if he's aware of it. If he knows how his tail betrays him.

But no, that's outrageous. And even if it was true, it's not like the feeling's mutual, right?

"Oh, and," Kurt says. "I got us tickets to that show you wanted to see. They're playing it at the theater downtown. We can go on Saturday, ja?"

"You... oh. Wow. I told you about that ages ago, Kurt. You remembered?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he says, tilting his head. Like it hadn't occurred to him to be anything less than thoughtful.

"No, I'm just—thank you. That's really nice of you."

Kurt beams. "I am excited to watch the green witch und her pink friend sing!"

He keeps eating, unaware of the way he's made your world tip on its axis. Because now you know.

You're in love with Kurt Wagner. And the feeling just might be mutual.

[cozage]

It's me again, feel free to ignore this if you're only taking 1 request per person

Congrats on 2k followers ♡

I would like to request, option 1, the reader asking "can I give you a kiss? If you don't like it, you can can return it" with Zoro, Sanji and Luffy (if you can also with Law, Ace and/or Kid)

Thank you in advance, hope you have a lovely day ♡

Nonsense! If you send it in and I like it, I'll write it! This was a fun request too :) I would've done them all if I had the time <3

Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Sanji, Luffy Total word count: 740

Returned Kisses

Zoro

“Zoro!” you sang, skipping across the deck. “I have a question.”

Zoro groaned. Your questions were never as simple as you initially made them out to be. 

“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked, your cheeks turning a cute rose color. “If you don’t like it, I can return it!”

Zoro scowled at you, trying to decipher your strange slew of words. “How do you return a kiss?” he asked. He set down the weights he had been using, trying not to sound too interested. 

“I guess you’ll just have to see!”

His eyes scanned the ship. There was nobody else around. And he had to admit, he was curious how your lips tasted. 

“Make it quick, then.” He sighed, trying to act as if he were apathetic to the whole idea, but his pinkened cheeks did not go overlooked. 

Your lips pressed against his, and he could taste a distinct sugary sweetness Normally he hated sweets, but he found it quite enjoyable upon your lips. 

When you finally pulled away, he quickly wetted his own lips with his tongue, desperate to get another taste. 

“I think I’ll return it,” he said, looking at you. 

“Oh.” Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Not very good then, was-?”

He pushed his lips back against yours with a sort of desperation and hunger that you weren’t expecting, and your mouth fell open in surprise against his. He quickly pushed his tongue past your lips, hungry  for more of your sweetness. 

When he finally pulled away, he shot you a cocky smirk. “Maybe you should try again later. I might not return it next time.”

Sanji

“Sanji!” You opened the swinging door to the kitchen, searching for him. 

“Do you need something, my love?” he asked. “Whatever you want, I will gladly give you.”

“Great!” you smiled. “I was thinking I could give you something, though.”

“Me?” He looked around the room, trying to figure out what you meant. 

“Yeah! I was thinking I could give you a kiss,” you offered. “If you didn’t like it-Sanji!”

The poor cook had collapsed to the ground, sent into shock by your offer. He seemed to be mumbling and babbling words, but you couldn’t make them out. 

You knelt down next to him, pulling his head into your lap to make sure he was okay. 

“Oh, Y/N love,” he whispered, finally coming back to his senses. “I had this strange dream where you offered to kiss me.”

You laughed. “I did offer to kiss you.”

His eyes were suddenly clear now, and very focused on your lips. So you bent down and pressed them against his own. You could hear his breathing become shallow, but you steeled your nerves and stayed there for a moment before you pulled away. 

“If you don’t like it, you can return it,” you whispered. 

Sanji’s eyes were practically hearts as he stared up at you. “Can I still return it even if I did like it?”

You giggled, crinkling your nose as you laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Good!” He reached up and pulled you back down to him, keeping his lips pressed into yours until Luffy ran into the kitchen looking for more food. 

Luffy

“Luffy! Come here!” you called up to the captain. He was in his seat on the figurehead, like always. 

“You come here!” he yelled back. Rubber arms extended towards you and whipped you up next to him. “What’s up?”

“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked. “You can return it if-”

His lips smashed against yours, and you could feel his mouth stretching into a smile. You couldn’t help but smile too, your head foggy with giddiness at his willingness to say yes. 

He finally pulled away from you, his laugh filling the air around you. “That was nice.”

“I was supposed to give you a kiss, Luffy!” You were trying to scold him, but you couldnt wipe that stupid smile off your face. 

“Do you want to give me one?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “You can give me another one!”

You leaned back into another kiss, his arms already wrapped around your neck. He was trying not to be too eager, but once your fingers tangled into his raven locks, he abandoned all common sense and worked to devour as much of you as he could get.

[jobean12-blog]

Claimed

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)-Bookshop setting

Word Count: 3,513

Summary: Bucky has had his eyes on you for a long time and when he finally makes a move to claim you he's delighted at how easily you fall into his waiting arms.

Author's Note: Seb's new looks have just been so yummy, especially him in a bow tie. I LOVE! The look in the pic below is the end result of the story🫠It isn't really focused too much on his mob status but it's there and I couldn't resist a little bookshop AU in there too! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, tension, Bucky is pretty forward/dom and doesn't mince words- he goes for what he wants-light d-irty talk, fing-er-ing, o-ral (f rec), but he's sweet too :)

Your steps are slow and easy as you stroll through the aisle, perusing the titles and letting your fingers delicately slide across the bindings.

When you find one of interest you pull it from the shelf and before you read even one word you press the aged pages to your nose and inhale deeply.

The sound of a light chuckle pulls you from your aromatic reverie and you look up with a start, catching a man watching you with a lopsided smirk.

He nods a hello before disappearing down the next aisle. You stare at the space he just vacated and feel your skin heat.

Was he really that handsome or are you still recovering from the exquisite smell of the pages of the book? Only one way to find out.

With quiet movements you slip past the end of the fiction section and turn the corner, peeking around the next bookshelf. All you see is a young woman searching through the books.

Denying your disappointment you continue down the aisle but slow when you feel the weight of eyes at your back. Instead of turning around and looking too obvious you quickly glance over your shoulder and see the mystery man once again watching you.

He looks even more handsome than he did two minutes ago.

You almost walk into the woman who’s browsing and give her a startled apology before rushing off to hide in the rare book section.

Letting out a rush of breath you clutch a book to your chest and refocus on your surroundings.

“This is my favorite section.”

You spin on a gasp and blink.

“Excuse me?” you say quietly.

“This section,” he says again, “it’s my favorite. I love old books.”

“Oh,” you answer, backing away as he steps closer.

He stops advancing and looks at the shelf, studying the bindings until he finds one that interests him.

“Mine too,” you concede softly. “And they smell amazing.”

“As good as the books in the fiction section?” he asks, eyes dancing with amusement.

You let out a light huff of laughter, feeling warm embarrassment creep over your skin.

“Better,” you finally answer.

“I’d have to agree with you there,” he says before lifting the book he holds to his face and inhaling.

You can’t stop your small intake of air as you watch him savor the smell of the pages.

“So, do you come here often?” he asks, casting his gaze down to the words.

You let his question hang in the air as you take a moment to really look him over. His soft sweater does nothing to hide his broad shoulders and powerful build and his dark hair and beard frame a beautifully sculpted jaw.

Then he lifts his eyes, directing his steady gaze on you, and your breath catches in your throat.

“Um…I do. It’s my favorite book store. I can’t afford any of these books,” you say as you motion to the titles nearby, “but no one seems to mind that I come and spend the afternoon reading them.”

“I don’t see why anyone would,” he replies.

He places the book back on the shelf and slides his hands into his pants pockets, attempting another step closer.

This time you don’t move away and he smiles.

“I have quite the collection myself,” he informs you. “You should come see it.”

“Are you a collector?” you ask.

“Something like that doll.”

You school your features at the sound of the endearment falling from his perfect lips and smile.

He extends his hand.

“James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.”

“Hi Bucky.”

You give him your name and he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth and lightly brushing his lips across your knuckles before kissing them.

As you stare at him through your lashes his lips linger and he seems unwilling to let go of your hand.

“I mean it you know. You’re welcome to come see my collection…anytime.”

He slowly releases your hand with a wink then turns on his heel toward the doorway.

“But…,” you start, not even sure why you’re calling after him to ask your next question, “how will I find you?”

He turns to face you, his eyes set with determination, and says, “don’t worry doll face. We’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”

With those parting words he vanishes into the maze of books, leaving you caught between feeling frazzled and turned on.

After several days of warm sunshine it finally ends in a wash of chilly rain and wind. But you’re warm and cozy in the back of the bookshop, curled up on one of the old leather chairs by the window, reading by the soft light of an antique tiffany lamp.

You’re so engrossed in your book that it takes you several minutes to recognize the familiar feeling of his stare and when you look up you find Bucky leaning against a nearby bookshelf, his arms crossed, watching you.

He looks just as good as he did the last time you saw him and you realize you’re staring back.

“Hey,” you whisper, clearing your throat.

“You must really be enjoying that book,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“I am. Have you read it?”

“Not this one,” he says as he steps closer and reads the title.

His nearness draws all of your attention from the book and for the first time you take notice of the small patches of gray hair that line his beard.

“It’s worth a read,” you tell him when your eyes meet his again.

“I’ll definitely check it out doll. I’m currently reading the first edition of ‘The Canterbury Tales’ by Geo…”

“Geoffery Chaucer,” you finish in a rushed breath. “Oh my god. You have a first edition!?”

Your eyes go wide with shock as you silently contemplate how much money that must have cost him.

“But…but…”

“I told you doll face, the old and rare books are my favorite.”

“I haven’t read that one yet but it’s on my list.”

“Well you’re welcome to my copy when I’m done,” he says, smiling widely when your mouth opens in shock. “But I have to warn you that when it comes to such treasures I’m a slow reader. There are some things I like to take my time with.”

As the last sentence leaves his mouth he unabashedly lets his eyes sweep over you. When your head dips to your book under his obvious perusal he presses his fingers under your chin to lift your gaze.

“Can I get you a coffee?”

“A coffee?” you repeat, all rational thought leaving your brain at the feel of his touch.

“They just put a fresh pot on up front.”

“Oh, right. That would be great thank you, let me just get my wallet.”

“No doll. I’ll pay.”

“Well, I don’t mind at all…”

“And I do,” he says definitively. “I offered and I’ll pay.”

“Thanks,” you whisper.

When he returns with two steaming cups of coffee you sigh in contentment.

“Are you always this much of a gentleman to the women you meet in bookshops?”

You ask the question with a playful smile but when his expression doesn’t match yours you instantly regret opening your mouth, your smile wavering.

“Despite my offering, I’m having a very difficult time remembering to be a gentleman around you doll.”

“Well maybe I shouldn’t be accepting this coffee then.”

Even though your voice is little more than a whisper you make no move to give him back the drink and instead you lean in closer.

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” he murmurs.

Your breathing accelerates before you take a slow sip of the coffee.

“And maybe I like the coffee too much to give it back.”

“I just warned you that I’m having a difficult time being a gentleman. Are you provoking me doll?”

Your tongue darts out to trace the outline of your lips, the taste of coffee still lingering. “Is that what I’m doing?”

His eyes track the movement and he rubs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, looking pleased when you inhale sharply but don’t pull away.

“Let me be clear here doll, since it seems like you enjoy playing this little game with me. I want you underneath me in my bed. I want to be buried so deep inside you that you’ll feel me for days. And I want to mark you so every other man who walks this Earth knows you’re mine.”

Your eyes widen with every word he utters and you feel goosebumps crawl over your skin when he tilts his head and moves closer until his warm breath fans your cheek.

“I just want to be up-front with you. Enjoy the coffee.”

He forces himself away, removing his hand and stepping back. And once again leaves with nothing more that the sound of his retreating footsteps.

Life keeps you busy for the next two days but Bucky’s words are ever present, practically burned into your skin. So when you step back into the bookshop on Saturday evening you take solace in the familiar smells and sounds.

You wave hello to the barista and cashier, noticing their slight mischievous smiles as you pass by. You’re about to ask them what’s going on but then you see him and you know. Even among the shelves of beautiful books and warm lighting he stands out, his eyes boring into you.

The way he stands exudes a quiet confidence and a slow roll of heat eases it’s way through you when his unwavering stare moves over every inch of you.

Lifting your chin you hold his gaze and take your time getting your own eyeful. His button-down shirt is fitted just right with the top buttons open to reveal a gold chain and his long legs are clad in dark jeans.

He looks dangerous and sexy. And pissed.

You move toward him undeterred until you’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.

“Are you here to give me more warnings?” you ask.

He keeps his gaze locked on you and licks his lips.

“No. I think I was perfectly clear the first-time doll.”

“Is something bothering you, Bucky?”

“Where have you been?”

You would laugh at his nonresponse if your irritation weren’t growing hotter by the second.

“I’ve been busy. You know…work, errands…life.”

“I’ve missed you.”

You’re taken aback by his blunt and unexpected answer and can’t find the words to respond.

“I was afraid you didn’t want to see me again after what I said.”

You think back on his words for only the millionth time since he said them. An involuntary shiver runs down your spine at the memory.

“Did you get me a coffee today?”

His eyes light up in victory before he reaches behind him and hands you a cup, the drink prepared just how you like it.

For the next couple of hours the two of you browse the bookshop, spending the majority of your time in the rare section pouring over the titles in excitement and awe. You ask about his work and how he gathered his collection of rare books. He’s vague but polite with his answers, focusing most of his attention on you.

While you do most of the talking Bucky listens contentedly and intently, his constant regard slowly building and burning a hole through your enthused focus.

After a bit, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything else but him and you start to become more aware of how your body shifts closer to his, shoulders pressed together, heads close and your hand reaching out to graze his bicep.

Finally, the bookshop employees begin to let customers know they are going to close. You reluctantly put your current read back on the shelf and turn to Bucky.

“Guess it’s time to go,” you say quietly.

“I’ll drive you home doll.”

“No, no. That’s ok. I can take the train.”

“I insist,” he answers, stepping into your space and crowding you against the shelf.

“Ok,” you breathe out. “Thanks.”

His eyes drop to your lips and his hands hover at your waist, his fingertips just brushing the fabric of your shirt when the barista comes by and ushers you out.

With a release of breath you skirt past Bucky and grab your bag, heading for the exit.

Wordlessly, he holds the door of his car open for you, allowing you minimal space to edge by him into the passenger seat.

He breaks the silence with the same question floating around in your own head.

“Am I taking to you home or are you coming to my place to see my collection of books.”

“It’s late but…”

“But?”

“I would love to see them.”

“But you’re still thinking about what I said the other day, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

When you don’t say anything more or give him your address he drives in the opposite direction of your apartment. You contemplate your sanity the whole ride there but you’re too far gone to even want to tell him to turn around and bring you home.

His brownstone is gorgeous. Everything from the ornate edifice of the building to the classic tile in foyer exudes luxury and when you step inside the actual space you have to cover your mouth to stop any sound from escaping.

“I’m glad you like it doll,” he says from behind you, his chest brushing your back.

His lips meet the shell of your ear in a whisper. “I can give you a tour if you like or I can give you what you really want first.”

You turn to face him, his gravelly tone bringing several other things into focus. His cheeks are lightly flushed and his breathing has roughened. You sway closer and he runs his finger along your arm.

“The books…?” you question weakly.

“They’re not going anywhere,” he assures you as his fingertips trace your jaw.

“You don’t even have my phone number,” you continue. “We haven’t even been on a date yet!”

He starts to walk, pushing you slowly backward until you enter another room. Without taking his eyes off you he flicks a switch on the wall and the space is bathed in a soft glow, illuminating the ceiling high shelves of dark wood that line every wall. Every space is filled with books.

Your eyes wander for mere seconds before he grabs your chin and directs your gaze back to his.

“I think our bookshop encounters can be considered dates, don’t you?” he says softly.

Just before your back hits one of the shelves his large hand cradles your body, gently pressing you into the books. He leans closer, moving his hands to rest on either side of your head.

“Maybe…”

“Do you ever have an answer other than ‘maybe’?” he asks.

Your lips part to speak but he stops you with the brush of his mouth. “Don’t. Say. Maybe.”

Even though your last two meetings were charged with tension, this is the first time he’s really touching you and it sends shock waves through your entire body.

You breathe out a strangled ‘yes’ and arch into him, inviting more of his touch.

His mouth comes down on yours hard and hungry and the initial contact steals your breath. When you slide your hands over his chest and up to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, he groans and pushes you against the shelf.

You break contact with his mouth, gasping at the hardness pressing against your stomach.

“I’ve been like this since the moment I saw you,” he growls. “Do you know what that’s been like?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his mouth moves to your neck and sucks the sensitive spot underneath your ear, causing you to whimper his name.

Your head rolls to the side, begging for more and you let out a sound of frustration when he rocks his hips and keeps his mouth hovering along your skin.

“Is this what you want?” he murmurs with another grind of his hips.

Your fingers slide into his hair, raking through the soft strands as your breath catches on a gasp.

“Answer me, doll,” he demands.

“Yes. Yes Bucky. I want it.”

His hands leave your body and grip the edge of the shelf behind you. He dips his head, trailing kisses upward along your neck until he meets your earlobe, growling low.

“You’re going to spread these pretty legs for me doll and I’m going to bury my face between them.”

His tone warns you not to protest and with a strangled breath you do as you’re told, your head thumping back against the books when he slides his hand down your stomach.

“Eyes on me doll.”

You look down as he slips his hand inside your leggings, slowly peeling them, along with your panties down to your ankles.

He finds your swollen clit and circles it with teasing strokes, giving you one last hard look before his tongue flattens and he tastes you from top to bottom.

You’re already so close and when he pushes a finger inside you your eyes start to glaze over, your hips rocking rhythmically onto his hand and face.

When he pushes a second finger inside you it sends you over the edge, his tongue working you until your legs are shaking and you’re chanting his name.

“Fuck doll. You coming apart for me is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You start to slump forward, your breathing still ragged and he runs a soft hand along your hip, holding you steady and biting gently into your skin with his fingers.

“I’m going to make you come over and over again,” he whispers as he stands and takes you in his arms, his lips caressing the shell of your ear. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.”

“Yes. Please,” you whimper.

He presses closer, his lips teasing along your jaw until your eyes meet. “But first we’re going to have a proper date.”

Your lips part with your objection and you’re ready to beg him for more but he presses a finger to your lips, smiling when you instantly quiet.

“If I get inside you now I’ll never be able to leave and I don’t have enough time tonight to worship you. I have business to deal with.”

 Your eyes drop to his mouth and your fingers climb up his chest.

“Ok,” you say, still breathless.

“You’re going to be my date for an auction event I have to attend tomorrow night…and then afterwards we’ll have the rest of the night. And the next morning…all day. You’ll be all mine.”

You nod, unable to find your voice again but squirm against him in desperation, your body still craving more.

“Sweet fucking hell, doll,” he hisses. “Don’t make me rush this.”

He grabs your waist so you stop moving, his eyes wandering over your face before he captures your lips in a kiss.

When he releases your mouth the set of his jaw is rigid and his fingers dig deeper into your skin.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs. “Be ready by five.”

You stare at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your dress for the tenth time. Before leaving Bucky’s apartment you had exchanged numbers and several more kisses then he walked you to your door, wasting no time reminding you of his promises for tonight.

Your pulse quickens as his words threaten to consume you and you wonder how you’ll ever make it through the next few hours without throwing yourself at him. His touch was like nothing else you’d experienced. Not one of his movements were wasted and his objective was clear. He was going to absolutely ruin you. And you were ready.

The light knock on your door startles you but you check the clock and see he’s right on time.

“You’re punctual,” you say as you open the door.

He looks amazing and have to bite your lip to stop your satisfied moan.

“And you’re fucking stunning,” he says as his eyes rake over every inch of you.

He continues staring and steps inside.

“Do you plan on looking at me like that all night?” you ask.

“Like what?” he replies as he reaches out for you.

“Like you need to devour me.”

“It’s all I want,” he growls, sliding his hand along the curve of your back to bring you closer.

“Do we really need to go to this auction?” you purr against his lips.

His fingers splay against your back and he brushes his nose to yours. “I do doll face, but if you need my hand between your legs first, all you have to do is ask me.”

Before you can form the words for a weak protest, his hand dips between your bodies and starts to lift the hem of your dress.

“Say it doll. I want to hear you say the words."

“Please Bucky,” you gasp. “Give me your fingers. I need your fingers.”

 @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @littleseasiren @goldylions @kmc1989

[rebelspykatie]

Robin convinces Steve that Eddie is interested in him, just based on how frequently he flirts with Steve. Uses the same logic that Steve deployed to convince her to give Vickie a shot. Except, there’s no doubt about who Eddie could be attracted to. He’s gay and doesn’t really flirt much with women, keeps it more surface level. 

But with Steve, he’s all over him, getting in his personal space, tapping his chin, batting his eyelashes and draping himself over his lap during movie nights. Steve’s confident in his newly discovered attraction to men, and subtly tries to turn up the charm on his end. Flirting back, giving as good as he gets, but it never seems to affect Eddie. 

Steve’s gotten used to striking out. Never really catching anyone’s attention these days, what with the lackluster attempts at being interested in the mundane things some of the girls drone on about, to being afraid to sleep over for fear of a nightmare tearing him from sleep, to the way no one makes his skin buzz. He’s given up the pursuit of anyone else, setting his sights on Eddie, pushing gently at the boundaries that barely exist between them. 

Until the first time Steve and Robin are invited to see Corroded Coffin perform at the Hideout. He watches from afar as Eddie bounces across the room before the show. He hasn’t spotted them yet as he makes his way over to the bar. There’s a cute, older guy bartending, probably in his late twenties, buzz cut hair, ripped leather vest accentuating his arms. 

Steve watches in what feels like slow motion as Eddie leans over the counter to get as close as possible to this guy. That mischievous smirk that Steve’s used to seeing pointed at him is out in full force. Eddie is saying something, looking up at this guy, reaching out to squeeze a bicep and getting playfully batted away. Eddie lets the guy tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, almost a caress along the side of Eddie’s face. 

And there’s a moment where Steve feels like he’s floating on air, suspended in a moment in time before a catastrophic shift changes his trajectory. He’s careening to the ground at break neck speed and crash landing all in a matter of seconds. A vice-like grip squeezes his heart, reminding him that he’s not special. He’s dissecting every memory of Eddie flirting, finding nothing consequential there in the wake of this discovery. 

How stupid could he have been to think that it meant anything? That must be why Eddie never reacted to his advances, they were just a blip on his radar. He’s got this guy wrapped around his finger, just like he’s had Steve. Except Eddie’s never blushed like that around him, or let Steve tuck his hair away. 

As much as he wants to turn around and get the hell out of here, he promised he’d come to Eddie’s show, even if looking at Eddie right now feels like a shot straight through his heart. That inexplicable draw to Eddie doesn’t just disappear. He wants to cross the room and drag him away from this guy, but what right does he have to do that? 

He feels Robin’s hand slip into his, turns to look at her, sees a mirror image of how she looked on the grimy bathroom floor of Starcourt, letting Steve down gently. Their friendship past the point of needing to verbally communicate anything. Robin gently tugs on his arm to convince him to sit at a table, clasping his hand underneath it tightly when Eddie finally spots them and Steve has to pretend like he’s fine. And he is fine. 

But he’s also not. His heart is cracking open with each note Eddie sings, the fault line growing until it feels like he’s split in two, bleeding out on the floor of this disgusting bar. When is he going to get it right? When is it his turn to feel wanted? Nancy and Robin hurt, but he feels blindsided by this one. He was so confident he was right, that this time it was reciprocated. 

But maybe he’ll always be the fool.

[yonch]

it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

[meangirls-imagines]

Rest and Relaxation

"who's that?"

"that is the queen bee regina george. do not look her in the eye. she can smell fear."

cady rolled her eyes at damian giggling. in the small amount of time that she had known him, he had been very dramatic. janis also rolled her eyes. "she can't smell fear. but he is right, don't look her in the eyes." cady watched as the blonde girl walked up to her table holding cheese fries, sitting next to the girl that damian said "has hair full of secrets".

there was a thud as the trio turned spotting a girl struggling to carry her backpack, books, and lunch. the girl looked over at the trio, noticing janis and damian and shyly waved. they all waved back and watched as she stumbled past them.

"who's that?" damian shook his head. "that's y/n, regina's girlfriend." cady looked at the two shocked. she didn't think regina was gay. "really? she's so...shy." janis nodded as they watched y/n finally make it to the plastics table. regina's face lit up at the sight of her girlfriend. y/n smiled back and sat next to the blonde, unloading everything on the table. regina pulled y/n into a kiss, making the girl blush.

"hi baby. how is your day going?" y/n blushed deeper at the petname. "its going fine gina. i just have a lot of work to do." y/n was a nerd in the best sense. she had the highest gpa of the whole school, she was a mathlete, and she was in all advanced classes. she also had a really bad habit of overworking herself. regina hated watching her girlfriend burn out so she did her best to step in before it got bad.

"how about you come to my house with us after school? we can do a spa day for you. get you to relax a little. i know how stressed you've been." y/n's heart melted at her girlfriend's worry. as much as she wanted to do that, she had a mathletes meeting after school followed by sat prep until late at night.

y/n shook her head. "i wish i could gina, but i have mathletes until 4 and then sat prep until 8 and then i still have to finish my essay." regina sighed, scooting closer and scratching y/n's back to get her to relax a little. their moment was ruined when y/n's brother shane walked up to them. "ladies, nice to see you guys today. y/n, chris was wondering if you could possibly look over his history paper and see if its good enough for at least a b minus."

regina was about to speak up when y/n beat her to it. "yeah, just give it to me before i go to mathletes and tell him i'll have it back to him by tomorrow morning." shane smiled and ruffled his sister's hair, placing a brief kiss on her head. "thanks sis. i'll let him know." y/n smiled as her brother walked away. regina looked at her girlfriend worriedly. y/n shook her head. "it's fine gina. i'll be okay."

the bell rang, dismissing lunch as y/n stuffed all of her things in her backpack, kissing regina and heading off to her next class. gretchen watched regina deflate as y/n walked away. she put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. "she'll be fine regina." the blonde sighed. "i hope you're right."

y/n sighed as she opened her locker the next morning. she didn't get home until late last night and woke up earlier than usual to go with shane to football practice to give chris his essay and finish up any homework she missed the night before. she was exhausted and just wanted to go home. unfortunately for her, the world doesn't work like that and it was only going to get much worse.

for backstory, regina and y/n had been friends since 4th grade. regina had been very protective over the girl since they first met all those years ago. they met when regina stepped in and stopped a few boys from shoving y/n around. and since then, nothing had changed. regina was just as if not more protective over the girl. they had come out at the end of 8th grade which just boosted the protectiveness. ever since they came out as a couple, less people picked on y/n, though there were some who just didn't get the message.

enter ian. who had harbored a major crush on regina even after she came out. he was the stereotypical high school male. he was the captain of the basketball team, he was ripped, he was hot and every girl in north shore (except the plastics and y/n) wanted him. he felt like he was a better match for regina than y/n was and never failed to make his opinion shown every once in a while.

regina and the plastics hadn't made it to school yet and shane was in the locker room so this was his perfect opportunity. he and a couple of his friends walked up to y/n, who was reading over her ap chem homework and not paying attention. "hey there nerd. i see your guard dog isn't here." y/n rolled her eyes. "no ian, regina isn't here yet. can i help you with something?"

that was apparently the wrong thing to say as ian slapped the papers out of her hand and shoved her against a the locker next to her. at this point, people had started recording on their phones. y/n winced at the impact as the group of boys started laughing. "you don't get to have an attitude with me nerd. i think you forget where you fall on this food chain. allow me to remind you."

he brought his fist back to swing at y/n but the punch never came. the only thing y/n saw of her savior was pink nails before she was let go and ian was flying the other way. y/n looked up to see an angry regina flanked by an equally angry karen and gretchen. the two obviously weren't as close to y/n as regina was but they also had a protectiveness over her.

ian looked up scared as his friends fled the scene. karen and gretchen helped y/n pick her stuff up and dusted her off. ian shrunk in fear as regina towered over him. "i don't think you understand where you fall on this food chain, but allow me to remind YOU. you do not compare to y/n. she is so far above you that you don't even exist in her world. that being said, if i ever see you mess with her again, you will be finished."

he nodded and scrambled away. regina looked at the crowd that had formed. "anyone else have a problem with my girlfriend?" the crowd scattered as everyone went back to what they were doing. regina smirked victoriously before pulling y/n into an empty classroom, karen and gretchen standing guard outside.

regina looked over y/n for any injuries before y/n's grabbed her shaky hands and kissed both of them softly. "i'm okay, gina. just a little shaken up." regina let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding before pulling y/n into her arms. "i'm so sorry i wasn't there. i couldn't find my keys before we left so it put us behind-" y/n pressed her lips to regina's. the blonde instantly calmed as the two kissed, y/n being the first to pull away. "breathe babe. i'm okay. he's not going to mess with me again."

regina nodded and pulled y/n into another kiss, this one quicker than the last. "will you please come over after school today? i wanna take care of you. it's the weekend so you can stay the whole weekend while i help you relax. please." y/n nodded. "if it will make you feel better, yes." regina smiled and pecked y/n's lips. "good. i wasn't taking no for an answer. now, let me walk you to class?" y/n nodded and the two made their way out of the room.

regina stood against her jeep, waiting for y/n. karen and gretchen had hitched rides from shane so that way regina could take her girl straight home.the front doors to the school opened to reveal an exhausted looking y/n. regina's heart broke at the sight of the girl, she looked more exhausted than she did when the blonde saw her at lunch.

y/n shuffled to the jeep, regina grabbing her backpacks and throwing them in the backseat (carefully of course) before helping y/n into the passenger seat. regina walked around and got in, holding y/n's hand and kissing it. the girl sent her a sleepy smile and leaned her head against the window.

regina made it to her house in record time. she left the girl's bags in her car, making a mental note to ask her dad to grab them later. she helped y/n in the house and to her room, gently laying her on her huge bed. "stay right here baby. i'm gonna go run us a bath." y/n sleepily nodded, nuzzling into regina's pillow.

five minutes later, regina came out in a fluffy, pink robe, gently shaking y/n awake. "come on baby. let's get you in the bath." y/n stirred and nodded. the blonde helped her to her feet, gently pulling her into the bathroom. from there, she slowly took y/n's clothes off, head to toe. regina then got into the tub and guided y/n in, holding her to her chest.

the couple stayed in the bath for about half an hour before regina decided to get them out. luckily, y/n had been over to the blonde's house enough that she had her own little section in regina's massive closet. regina grabbed a hoodie and a pink pair of boxers for y/n and a hoodie for herself before getting them both dressed and into the bed.

y/n sunk into the soft mattress as regina gently maneuvered her to lay her head on her chest. y/n kissed regina's jaw and nuzzled into her neck. regina began scratching her nails down y/n's back. "take a nap and then when you wake up, i'll make you some dinner, and then maybe followed by dessert and a massage?"

y/n nodded before fully drifting off.

a few hours later, y/n woke up to the smell of her favorite pasta. she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stretched, getting out of bed and heading downstairs. she found regina cooking dinner with her "y/n❤️" playlist playing softly from her speaker. y/n smiled at how soft the queen bee looked before walking up and wrapping her arms around the blonde's waist.

regina smiled at the feel of her girlfriend snuggling into her back, turning the burner off and turning around. "hi baby. sleep good?" y/n nodded, pressing her lips to regina's. "what's for dinner?" regina smiled and pecked y/n's lips before explaining. "i made your favorite, cacio e pepe, some salad and garlic bread, and for dessert i made a lemon tiramisu. and after we are done eating, i am giving you a massage to get the stress of the week and especially today out of that sexy body of yours and we are going to cuddle up on my bed and watch some love is blind and you are going to sleep for more than five hours."

y/n smiled at her girlfriend, already feeling the stress of the week melt away. regina always took care of her when she needed it and she couldn't be more grateful to have her as her girlfriend. "god, i love you." regina blushed and kissed y/n's cheek. "i love you too. now, let's eat."

after they ate dinner and dessert, regina ordered y/n to take off her shirt and lay face down on the bed while she slipped in the bathroom. y/n did as told and winced a little before tossing the shirt off to the side and laying down. regina came out and lit a few candles before dropping the oil and bruise cream on the bed. she straddled y/n's lower back and gently ran her hands down the girl's back.

she leaned down and kissed y/n's shoulder gently. y/n sighed at the feel of the blonde's lips and whispered, "i love you gina." regina smiled, grabbing the bruise cream and started applying it to the newly forming bruises on y/n's back. "i love you too baby."

after a very, very, relaxing massage, y/n laid in between regina's legs as they watched "love is blind". regina had her fingers running through y/n's hair, scratching her scalp with her acrylics. y/n was drawing shapes on regina's stomach, the blonde girl shivering every once in a while. after a few episodes, regina asked y/n if she wanted anything to drink before realizing y/n was asleep. smiling, she carefully reached over to the nightstand to grab her phone, taking a picture of y/n.

she took to instagram to post the picture, smiling at the amount of cute comments their friends were leaving. she put her phone back and gently guided her and y/n into a more comfortable position. once comfy, she placed a gentle kiss on y/n's forehead, slowly drifting off.

[froggiewrites]

i read every single one of your works in one sitting and oh my god. your mind. your words. you're easily one of the best writers on this hellsite. it should be a crime you don't have more followers because your writing is criminally underrated

i saw you were taking requests and i don't want anything too specific but there isn't that much ace content and i really miss my man. a bit of hurt/comfort bc i love pain and then kissing it better

i was thinking something along the line of your Follow Through work (sorry if it feels repetitive but i live for this type ace content) but really I'll be happy with whatever you put out just have fun and go to town with it <3

Ahhh thank you so much this is so sweet 😭😭 I only started posting really recently so receiving sweet messages like this feels so unreal honestly, it just makes my heart so full. I loved writing this, I always love writing sweet stuff for Ace, so thank you for giving me an excuse to write something in this vein again! I hope you like it 💙

Blinders On

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You're in love with Ace. Everybody seems to know this but him. Warnings: Fluff, Miscommunication, A Little Self Loathing, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 2.2k

You really can’t tell if Ace is politely rejecting you, or if he simply doesn’t understand your advances. You’re being terribly obvious, enough so that the rest of the ship (and probably the entire rest of the fleet) are well aware, teasing you for it at any given opportunity. If you have to hear one more man making obnoxious smooching noises whenever you two walk past you’re going to throttle someone.

“It’s honestly getting pathetic at this point.”

“Yeah, it hurts to see someone put their pride on the line like this with no reward in sight. Bring a tear to my eye, really.”

Their voices are teasing, not cruel, but your shoulders tense anyway. You hate feeling pathetic. If he just turned you down, you would be more than willing to just lick your wounds and move on, no matter how hard it hurt. But he never did. He never pulled away, or pushed you further from him. He just never pulled you closer, either. You were left in limbo, treading the line between friend and lover, never crossing to either side.

“What’s got you frowning like that?” You jump when you feel two fingers at the edges of your lips, gently forcing them into a smile. Ace is in front of you, nearly nose to nose, and you can see the candlelight dancing in his eyes and painting his cheeks a gentle orange. He looks beautiful, as always, as he grins at you. “That’s better. Now you try again without my help.”

You force your mouth into a smile despite yourself.

“There we go.” He laughs quietly, and you can feel his warm breath on your face. He’s horribly, unbearably close, close enough that you would barely have to move to feel his lips against yours. The urge is overwhelming, but you can’t let yourself, so you scoot back slightly, smile growing a bit shakier.

He frowns a bit, something unnamed flashing in his eyes, before he leans a little further back as well. “Care to share what made you so upset? You were glaring a hole into the table.”

“Oh it’s…it’s nothing big. Don’t worry about it.” You frankly would rather throw yourself overboard than look Ace in the eye that you were sitting here pathetically pining over him.

He frowns deeper. “You know you can always share with me, right? I’m a good listener, I swear.” A mocking laugh explodes behind him from a nearby eavesdropper, and he leans forward before muttering, “I’m good at listening to you, at least.”

Your cheeks heat. You don’t want to embarrass yourself like this, but he’s looking at you with those sweet puppy dog eyes, and maybe this could be a chance for you to finally figure out how he feels about you. “Well…it’s just…” your eyes slide to the several crewmates visibly listening in. “Can we talk in private?”

“Of course!” He’s on his feet instantly, offering you his hand to help you up. He pulls you up as though you weigh nothing, and while that makes your stomach flutter a bit, it’s nothing compared to the way he keeps a hold on your hand while leading you away. You can feel the heat radiating from him, every callus on his hand, the way his fingers lightly rub against the back of your hand. It takes all of your self control not to melt.

He leads you to his room, leading to wolf whistles from some passersby, and you internally groan at all of the comments you’re going to get after this. But he gently sets you on his bed before kicking off his boots and sitting next to you, on his knees, looking at you expectantly. “Is this good?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ace.” He gives a blinding smile at that, terribly pleased to have helped. “So I’ve been dealing with…an issue, lately.”

He nods, urging you onward.

“So there’s this guy…”

He winces, the expression so quick you almost miss it. 

“And I’ve been trying to figure out how he feels about me.” You curl in on yourself a little tighter. “But I genuinely can’t tell if he’s noticed how I feel and he just doesn’t…feel the same, or if he somehow doesn’t know.” This is terrifying, laying it all bare, but if it leaves a chance for something else, something better, isn’t it worth it to be brave?

But Ace remains silent. His face is frozen halfway between shock and despair, staring at you with wide eyes. You blink at him, confused, and gently reach forward to take his hand. “Ace?”

He flinches when you touch him. “Ah! Um, sorry. Advice. You wanted advice.”

“If you’re willing? You don’t have to.”

“No, I–I can.” He seems flustered, but you can’t really tell which part of this shook him. You try to brace yourself for oncoming rejection, just in case. “...You really don’t know if he feels the same?”

“I have absolutely no idea. And nobody else I’ve asked does, either.”

Another flash of hurt, the frown of a kicked puppy. “You went to other people before me?”

You rush to correct. “They came to me. I think they felt bad for me, honestly. The entire ship has noticed and they can’t tell if he likes me either, and a lot of people have been making fun of me about it. So a few people asked me if I was alright.”

He furrows his brow. “People have been making fun of you? Who?”

“Almost everyone, really. You didn’t notice?”

“No, I didn’t.” His expression shifts to something close to guilt. “How long has this been going on?”

“About…a year or so?”

“You only joined the crew a little more than a year ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You can’t keep the exhaustion from your tone. You want to say it hasn’t taken a toll on you, that you let it roll off your back, but the weight has been resting on your shoulders, dragging you further and further down. It’s only a matter of time before you snap entirely. “It’s…it’s a bit much, sometimes. But the only way to get them to stop is to stop trying to get him to notice me, and if I stop that he never will. And I think he’s worth all of it, really.”

“Hm. I’m…sure he is.” You can hear the sting in his voice, like cold water on an open wound. “He has to be, for you to want him so badly.”

“He’s the best man I’ve ever met.” You can’t keep the affection from your voice, or the warmth from your cheeks as you shyly peer at Ace through your lashes. You can’t place the faraway look in his eyes, hazy and unfocused.

“He better be.” He clenches his jaw briefly before relaxing it, closing his eyes and shutting you out. You see his fingers digging into his thighs as he turns away from you and takes a deep breath. “You should just tell him, I’m sure he’ll reciprocate. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t.” His voice is strained, sounding like there’s an unshakable weight on his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it. You should tell that bastard how you feel.”

“Bastard?”

You can see every muscle in his back tense as he continues to face away from you. “Did I say bastard? I meant lucky bastard.”

“It…doesn’t sound like you did.”

“How could he be anything less than lucky, to have someone like you?”

He really isn’t getting it. Even now, he just doesn’t fucking get it. “Are you mad at me, Ace? Or him, I guess?”

“I’m not mad,” he snaps, unconvincingly. “I’m not…I’m not upset. It would be ridiculous for me to be upset, I have no reason to be. Not with you, or with whoever it is. That would be silly. And I’m not. Silly.”

“...Right.”

Are you going to have to spell this out for him?

“And since I’m so definitely not-at-all mad, can I know who it is? So I know who to congratulate later.”

You sigh. “You really have no idea?”

“...I think I might have one.”

You lean forward a bit, trying to angle around him to look him in the eye, but you accidentally brush your chest with his back and he jumps, scrambling away before turning around to face you. “Who do you think it is, Ace?”

“Is it Marco?”

What?

“What?”

“Is it…is it not Marco?” He furrows his brow.

“I–no. It’s not Marco.”

“Thatch then?”

“No! Oh my god.”

“Izou? Or–”

“It’s you, Ace!”

His eyes go wide and he freezes. “It’s…me?”

“Yes.”

He absolutely lights up like a firework with the biggest, most sincere grin you’ve ever seen. “It’s me?” He leans forward, close enough that you can see every fleck of color in his dark eyes. “It’s me? Really? You mean it?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” You can’t keep the hint of laughter out of your voice at the idea you could love anybody but Ace, as though any man you had ever met could beat him for best. 

Before you know it, his arms are around you, his comforting weight pressing you into the bed beneath you. “I didn’t think it could ever be me.”

Your arms wrap around him in turn, pulling his head into your neck as he presses his nose into you. “Why couldn’t it be you? You’re amazing, Ace.”

“I can’t believe you believe that.” His voice is soft as he pulls himself apart for a second, allows himself to fall into your embrace and forget the world. “I didn’t think you could want me. I already didn’t get how you could like me, let alone more. You’re so…everything and I’m so…me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything in the world better to be than you.”

There’s a wetness pressing into your neck, but you don’t comment. “No one has ever said that to me before. I don’t…I don’t understand how I tricked you, but–”

“Portgas D Ace. You didn’t trick me. I just saw you for who you were, and I loved you because of it. Not in spite of it, not because I somehow didn’t see it. Because you’re you, and I don’t know what could be better than that.”

“Almost anything else?” He mutters it weakly. “I really hoped you would…would think about me like I think about you. I just didn’t think it was possible. Was it really that obvious?”

“Every single person on this ship knew before you did. Someone was making fun of me for it at breakfast, directly in front of you, and you still didn’t notice. It was really just because you didn’t think I could like you?”

“It genuinely didn’t seem like a possibility to me. I figured I was just going to be pining after you for the rest of my life, y’know? Have to see you find someone else as wonderful as you are and run off together, and pretend I was happy for you. Which I sort of would be, I guess. I want you to be happy. And I didn’t think I could do that for you.” He pulls out of your neck, and you can see his eyes are glistening, a few stray tears making their way down his freckled cheeks. He looks you in the eye, while his own filled with a strange mix of affection and self loathing. “Still don’t, really. But I’ll try.”

You cup his cheeks in your hands, gently brushing away his tears. “No one else could make me happier than you, Ace. I know that for sure. You are the kindest, brightest, most wonderful man I know. You have no idea how amazing you are, how you inspire the people around you. You’re so loved, and it’s not because you managed to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes, or anything silly like that. It’s because you deserve it.” You lean up, lips brushing softly against his before you pull back again to speak. His lips chase yours, making you giggle. “You deserve every bit of it, Ace. And if you don’t believe me I’ll just have to show you. Every day, until it sticks.”

“And if it does?” His voice is nothing but a whisper as he stares at you like you’re the greatest treasure on the seas. “Will you stop if it sticks?”

“No way in hell. I’ll double down. Triple down, even.”

He gives you a shy grin. “Guess I’ll have to figure out the truth pretty fast, then. I’d like to see what double this looks like.

“I guess you will.”

The next kiss takes your breath away. It makes the teasing you and Ace are sure to receive when you leave the cabin worth it a million times over. But right now there isn’t a crew jeering at you. The only thing in the world right now is Ace, on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he kisses you like he’s been waiting a thousand years to do it.

[runa-falls]

cocktails

gif from @pirateherokillian

pairing: jake lockley x shy!reader

summary: you finally gain enough courage to make a move on your best friend

cw: explicit (18+), dub-con (reader is tipsy), afab!reader, dry humping to piv pipeline, fingering, multiple orgasms, longing/pining losers, love (?), push-over!jake, needy!reader, 'just the tip' is never just the tip, alcohol consumption, pet names, daddy kink, creampie, fluff :3 -- not beta-read

wc: 5.1k

a/n: pls, it was never supposed to be this long. i'm sorry for taking FOREVER to write this. anyways, this is based off my blabbering in discord -- i dedicate this to my whores (affectionate) <3

mk masterlist | main masterlist

----

You don’t drink. 

At least not in front of Jake. 

Alcohol makes you…indulgent, to say the least, and that’s a side you’ve been holding back from your best friend. 

Yes, you’ve had a drink or two at some group hangouts in the past, but this, you, Jake, and a few bottles of gifted wine, surprisingly has never happened in the past. You’ve made sure of it.

What almost makes it worse is that Jake’s always been a sweetheart about your choices to avoid drinking around him. After your first few bouts of excuses and timid declines, he doesn’t pressure you to keep up with him when he’s knocking back shots or drinking pitchers of beer. 

Whenever your other friends press another drink into your hand, he subtly takes it for you, drinking it in large gulps before returning the glass from your hand. And when he pulls away, his fingers always find a way to graze against yours. Thankfully the bars are usually dimly lit so he can’t see the blush heating at your cheeks. 

He doesn’t realize it’s because of him. He’s the reason bartenders give you weird looks when you ask for watered-down vodka cranberries or why you’re always the last one standing in your friend group whenever you go out. This restraint around alcohol has gone on for years all because you harbor an intense attraction for your best friend. 

It didn’t start that way. He crashed into your quiet life and obliterated the dynamics of your friend group. When you first met him, you thought his cocky and blasé attitude was overcompensating for something.

He’s always been a natural sweet talker, not afraid to approach people and get what he wants, but it seemed too good to be true. He’s too charismatic, too interested in the dull life you live, how did he dig out a hole and place himself so easily in your life?

Easily, too easily, you fell for his sweet words, words that would inevitably draw you into his orbit and leave you hanging off of every syllable. 

You learned that no matter what he says, or does, he’s just being friendly. He’s just like that with everyone. It means nothing when he gives you a cheeky grin from across the bar or when he consistently insists on walking you home at night. Sure, he might stick closer to your side than anyone else's, but it’s just because you’re best friends. Right?

Of course, girls have tried and failed to lock down your best friend, misinterpreting his outgoing personality as him propositioning them. And they always come to you – whining over his lack of interest, the sudden and unexpected rejection of their advances, and grappling for any advice from his girl best friend. 

“He’s single, isn’t he?” The words are said over the thin rim of a martini glass. She glances over at you with hopeful eyes framed by beautifully dark lashes. 

You barely knew the girl’s name, but she offered to buy you a drink (a shirley temple) so you stayed for the conversation, however, you weren’t expecting the topic to circle back to Jake. But after watching her down a couple of martinis, gushing more and more about the man you’ve been pining after for an eon, you felt too bad to leave her. 

“Um…as far as I know.” It’s a little uncomfortable, talking about Jake like you’re his keeper.

“Then – then why won’t he go out – or even hook up with me?” Her voice has gotten louder with the exasperation of her inquiries. You look around at the bar, hoping she can keep it together before you’re kicked out for causing a ruckus. 

“Look, I don’t know if I’m the best –”

“But you’re his best friend, right?”

“Yes, but –”

“What’s his type?”

His type?

God, you wish you knew. It would make things a lot easier for yourself (and the world). But you genuinely don’t know. You’ve never seen him with a girl. Sure, he could be hooking up on the side, but why would he tell you?

You look down at your glass. All that’s left is ice, melting into an amalgam of pink-tinted liquid around the one maraschino cherry you refuse to eat. 

“I don’t know.” You mumble.

—

You’re already through a bottle and a half, lounging comfortably on the overstuffed couch in your living room. Something is playing on the TV but it’s all a blur behind the feeling of his thigh pressing against yours. 

Jake has never been afraid of showing his affection through physical means, whether it’s greeting ladies with a friendly peck on the cheek or ruffling one of the guy’s hair when he goes by. It’s natural to him. Casual.

But with you, he’s mostly hands-off. 

It’s not that you deign to feel his touch, to feel the scratchiness of his whiskers rub against the edge of your hairline, or lower against the sensitive skin of your throat, you just can’t control your reactions when he does it. Even the light touch of his hand against your lower back when he guides you has you standing straighter. 

He noticed your strong reactions to him and backed off, assuming you were uncomfortable or unused to friendly touches. And it was fine until you would do anything to feel him against you again, just one more time. It’s desperate, really, but you don’t really care when he looks at you with those cocoa-butter eyes. 

And now, he’s closer than ever but still hands-off. He politely sits next to you, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other in his lap. But not touching you. 

He’s been making commentary about the dumb hallmark movie you impulsively rented, pointing out all the unrealistic plot conveniences and bright red flags that the main character blatantly ignores. He seems relaxed. 

You aren’t.

Two stained wine glasses sit on the coffee table, dangerously close to the edge, still holding a sip of liquid. You can barely make out the intricate print of his lips on the edge of the cup, highlighted by the brightness of the hallmark snow scene. 

You want so badly to steal the glass away and lick up the residual bitter-sweetness of the wine that’s touched his lips. To taste him, even indirectly. Or directly. Lick the sweetness straight from the source, tongue intermingling with him as he takes just as much from you. You feel yourself pulse from that image alone.

“Bunny?” Heat prickles against the back of your neck as you realize how far away your brain is, thinking such filthy and depraved thoughts of the man who is sitting right next to you. 

He dotes on you like a person would their favorite pet cat. He calls you pet names, ones that make you bite your tongue and hide your face in your hands. Bunny was the first one and the one he uses the most. 

It came out of nowhere, really. You were both at a small house party and Jake convinced you to join his team in a game of beer pong. You were still a bit nervous around him, still surprised when he’d seek you out for a conversation or to get your opinion on something entirely irrelevant. 

You told him upfront that your hand-eye coordination leaves much to be desired, but he was determined to teach you. The first few throws were pitiful, so pitiful, in fact, that the other team gave you a freebie to make up for it. 

“Here, lemme give you a hand.” You couldn’t even react before he was sidled behind you, his chest nearly flush against your shoulder as his hand wrapped around your wrist. Your body is frozen, soaking in the overwhelming closeness.

You can barely decipher the individual cups of beer with his voice low behind your ear as he directs you, “Keep it right….there” He lets go of your arm and you already miss his touch, “and put a little more power into your throw.” 

He steps back, giving you space to take a breath and refocus. 

You throw it, more mechanical than you would’ve liked, but it – miraculously – goes in. 

Immediately you turn around to get his reaction, the praise that you secretly crave from a man you barely know. 

He grins down at you, “You’re a natural, bunny.” 

And the nickname stuck.

You look over at him, lazily blinking up to meet his fond gaze, “Hm?” You feel all fuzzy inside, overexcited yet pinned down by the unexplainable need to stay close to him. 

He smirks down at you, arm subtly lowering to barely touch the back of your head, “What’cha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” You try to lean into the feeling of his arm, hoping that if you ease into it, he won’t notice. “You had this… faraway look in your eyes for a moment.”

Oh, he noticed. But there’s no way he knows what you were thinking, right? A flash of embarrassment stings hot in your cheeks. You don’t think when you shyly nuzzle your face into his bicep to avoid his curious eyes, “I think I just zoned out or something.”

He hums, “You tired?” You turn your face to look at him, cheek resting against him. God, he smells so good. You never want to move from this spot. “Want me to tuck you in?” His voice coos teasingly, but you soak in the sweetness of it. He can be so soft sometimes.

Scrambled words echo in your mind: But if you go to bed, you’ll leave. You’ll take your arm out from under me and leave me here to think about you, all alone. Why can’t you just – Your thoughts quickly dissipate when he pulls you closer to him, hand at your waist to press your body against his.

Your hand presses delicately against his chest in surprise and you can barely feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat underneath the firmness of his muscles.

You softly shake your head, “Not tired.”

“Sure, baby.” 

Baby. 

That’s new. 

Your thighs involuntarily press together with how good it sounds coming from his lips. Directed at you. Somehow, even with all the pet names he’s given you throughout the span of your friendship, this one hits home.

He says it with the casualness of a boyfriend and tenderness of a lover. You can almost feel him panting it against the crook of your neck as he pushes inside of you, hand clutching yours as his hips roll perfectly against yours. 

You don’t even realize your legs are rubbing together like a cricket at dusk until a warm hand wraps around the top of your thigh. He pulls them apart, spreading your legs like you’ve always dreamed he would. Despite the suggestive position, you still whine at the loss of friction, thoughtlessly fighting against the insisting tug of his hand.

He hushes you gently, a soft tone barely easing your frustration. You latch your fingers onto his wrist, attempting to guide him to the spot that you really need him to touch, but he barely budges. His grip on your thigh tightens when his name drips brokenly from your lips. 

“J-Jake…” 

“Sweetheart, stop.”

“But –”

“Please.” Jake looks down at you with a pained expression, all past chivalry betrayed by the darkness pooled in his eyes.

You look up at him with misty eyes and flushed skin, innocence in the palm of his hand. “I need you.” You bite your lip at your admission, stained red from the wine, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You pull at him again and this time he lets you. Both of you look down as his hand cups you over your shorts.

“You’re too drunk right now.” The whispered attempt of resistance falls on deaf ears as you arch your hips into his touch. Neither of you notice that the movie ended, leaving you in a silence where only the exchange of breathless pants can be heard. 

“Touch me.” You whine, desperate for anything. Desperate just to be accepted by him.

His gaze briefly flicks up from where he’s touching to regard your eagerness with half-lidded eyes. He shakes his head and looks away like he’s looking for answers on the blank wall next to him. “I…shouldn’t.” 

You start to panic when you feel his hand pull away. It can’t end like this. You hold onto his wrist when a particularly needy idea pops into your mind. If he doesn’t want to ‘defile’ you, then fine. You’ll do it yourself.

“I…c-could i just rub myself against you?” You berate yourself for sounding so meek, so unsure, but you’ve never done anything like this before, never had to take control of the situation. “Like, if you don’t want to…um, touch me.” He looks at you wordlessly, gorgeous lips parted at your suggestion.

His tongue brushes over his bottom lip, “I– Okay, sure…” 

With his permission, you push up against the couch to get up and straddle over him. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting it with how his hands barely hover over your body like he’s unsure whether he wants to pull you closer or shove you off his lap. “Is this okay?” 

“Yeah.” He sounds strained, “But just for a little bit, alright?” 

“Ok.” You promise though you’re sure that once you get a taste, you’ll never want to stop. You have to make this good for him so he’ll want you back.

You settle against him, body thrumming with anticipation when your clothed cunt meets the prominent hardness under his jeans. So he does want it. His hands clasp onto your waist when you start to move over him, hips experimentally rolling against his.

Jake watches you move over him with a look of deep hunger and awe. It’s endearing how shy you are, even now grinding on his lap. Your movements are clumsy – unpracticed as you desperately try to chase that spark that’ll satisfy the heat buried deep down inside of you. 

“That good, baby?” 

You nod, mewling quietly as the seam of his jeans drags perfectly against your clit. Pleasure pools in your stomach, nudging you closer and closer to the edge. You hold onto his shoulders as you work yourself over him, panting from your effort. He starts to cant his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, pressing his erection roughly against your core to show you just how much he wants you. 

All you can think of is how good it would feel to have him bare against you, skin to skin. When you meet your peak, body hot and trembling as you rub against him, the end never comes. It’s not enough. You’re just left teetering at the top with no drop in sight.

You huff, “Jake, can I – just…please.” You let your hands drop from his shoulders to start working on his belt.

“What is it bunny, what do you need?” He looks so good under you with his wrinkled shirt unbuttoned just so to give you a peak of his collarbone and the newly open belt hanging from the loops in his tight jeans. You undo the button, fingers briefly fumbling as your knuckle brushes against his bulge.

“Just need to feel you.” You paw at the waist of his pants, trying to subtly indicate that you need his help to take them off. But he sits there and smiles sweetly at your frustrated huffs. 

“And what about me?” He says in a teasing drawl. He drags you closer to him and cups your face until your lips nearly meet yours. He’s so close that you can make out the light dusting of freckles that grace his nose and cheeks. Amber eyes bore into yours as he whispers, “You’re using my body and haven’t even given me a kiss yet.”

“Oh.” Your gaze drops to his lips, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby.” He leans in, “just kiss me.” Your eyes flutter close when you meet the softness of his lips. You immediately melt into the gentle caress of his hand on your jaw with a sigh as he desperately keeps you close. 

Jake groans, drinking in the sweetness of your lips, a taste of pure heaven melting on the tip of his tongue, before hungrily deepening the kiss. He licks against the seam of your mouth, begging you to open yourself up to him. You surrender yourself to him, letting him slide in and taste you from the inside out. 

Your hands move up from his shoulders to his soft curls, tugging eagerly in an attempt to hear the soft groan that rumbles in his chest. He nips at your bottom lip, suckling it until it’s pink and tender, wanting to leave a mark so you’ll always think of him. He can’t help but press against you when you whimper for him, grinding eagerly against your center, wishing he was inside of you instead.  

“Just the tip.” You mumble it against his lips. He’s too far gone to clearly hear what you said, lost in a thick fog of awe, lust, and…love. At his silence, you pull away to look at him, scared you’re asking for too much. “Jake.” He nods thoughtlessly, chasing your lips, already missing your taste. He almost whines when you pull away from his touch, but quickly comes back to reality when he sees the way you’re nervously looking at him. 

He squeezes your waist comfortingly, “Anything you want, bunny.” You smile at the pet name and gratefully peck his lips. He tries to deepen the kiss, hand already pressing against the back of your head, but you cheekily pull away before he gets too far. You stand up, ignoring his objections and clingy touches as you get off of his lap. 

You fluidly slip your shirt over your head before carelessly dropping it to the floor behind you. There’s fire in his eyes as he sits back on the couch and watches you reveal the cute bra that cups you so perfectly. You tease the edge of your waistband as you look down at him, “Off, please.” You gesture at his jeans. He follows your directions, quickly shimmying his pants off, eyes on you the whole time.

You follow him, tugging your shorts off to show him the matching panties. You squeak when warm hands abruptly pull you to the couch, eagerly wandering over your waist and hips as he buries his face against your neck. 

“Can’t help it, baby,” His touch drifts up to cup the underside of your tits, trailing carefully over the curve to memorize the shape of you. “You’re just so fucking pretty.” He groans hot and heavy against your neck as he squeezes your softness. 

You’re back on top of him, naked thighs draped over his, skin against skin, and now, you can feel all of him. He’s pressed so deliciously against your core, pulsing with pure desire and heat. The only thing separating the two of you is fading self-control and a pair of thin panties.

His mustache tickles against your throat as his lips drift over your pulse point. He presses heady kisses against the edge of your jaw, gauging where your most tender spots are. 

“Oh–!” Your thighs clench around him when he touches a particularly delicate area near your ear. He gently nips at the spot, holding you tighter when you moan at the feeling.

Jake lets out a broken groan when you reach between your bodies and take him into your hand. He tries to continue giving your body loving attention with his lips, but his kisses get messy, dragging lazily over your shoulder and collarbone, with how distracted he is by your touch. He has to pull away for a breather and hold himself back from thrusting into your fist when you squeeze him teasingly at the base. 

“Bunny…” You both look down and watch as your smaller hand slowly strokes him. His cock is flush with need, leaking so prettily as you try your hardest to make it good for him. You slip your other hand under his shirt, running your fingers against his coarse happy trail to his rippling muscles. The couch groans next to you as he harshly grips the arm, barely holding himself back with white knuckles. “Oh, f-fuck.” His body stiffens under you as you brush your thumb against the sensitive underside of the tip. 

You tenderly massage the spot, watching in awe as he continues to spill over your fingers, making a mess that drips onto your inner thighs and the edge of his shirt. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing desperately in your hold.

As beads of white paint your fingers, your mouth waters just thinking about how he tastes. You feel ravenous to see him cum, to watch how easily you can ruin him. “H-hold on, cariño. Give me a second.” Jake chokes out. His hips stutter under you before he pulls your hand away.

"Whyy." You whine, pouting up at him with starry eyes. You reach for him again with the hand he isn’t holding onto, brushing your fingers against his sensitive cock. He shudders for you with a broken groan. 

“I'm close-- just – stop for a moment –” Both hands are pinned to your side as Jake’s chest heaves under his shirt. He rests his head back against the couch, eyes closed as he struggles to hold himself back. 

“But…I want you to.”

“I know, baby,” He lifts his head, dark eyes boring into yours, and pulls your hands behind you. You squirm in his lap, back arching at the position, suddenly remembering your own desperation. It feels good to be bound by his hands, to let him do whatever he wants to your body. “But I don’t wanna finish if it isn’t in you.” 

Your face heats in embarrassment. “Oh.” 

Jake picks up on your sudden shyness immediately. 

“You like that, don’t you, bunny?” He smirks, “The thought of me filling you up, then dripping out of you?”

You bite your lip, “A little bit.”

“A little, hm?” He ponders, “Well why don’t we try it out and see.” Your thighs clench around him at the idea.

“Ok.”

“Sit up, let me see how wet you are.” He helps you raise yourself on your knees so you’re hovering over his lap. Letting go of your wrists, he drags his thumb against your clothed cunt; The fabric has a darkened splotch along your opening, teasing him with evidence of your lust. “Aw, sweetheart, you’re soaked…” He nudges your panties to the side, slipping his fingers against your wet opening. “Gonna ruin these pretty little panties, hm?” You nod wordlessly, hips desperately pushing against his touch.

He gently slides against your dripping entrance, making a mess of your cunt with teasing circling motions. Wet, decadent sounds fill the limited space between you as his fingers prod ever so slightly against the spot where you need him most.  A helpless sound is pushed out of you when he finally eases two fingers inside of you.

“Is that good, bunny?” He coos as he slowly fucks his fingers into you. It’s only his fingers, but he’s already filling you up so deliciously. His dark eyes are hungrily locked on how he fills you up over and over again, slick dripping down his knuckles and over his palm. “Hm?” 

You nod again, brain foggy with pleasure. “Yes, J–” You can barely get a word out when he curls his fingers up, pressing so sweetly and deep against the sensitive walls of your cunt. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his wrist, it feels so good. “Uh–!” You almost fall over and have to hold onto his shoulders for support as he begins to speed up. 

“That’s it, baby…” Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he rapidly presses against your g-spot. You’re already hurdling towards the edge and he can feel it with how you start to clench around his fingers. “Make a mess of my hand..” Within a handful of thrusts, you’re gasping out with pleasure, your thighs shaking over him. He takes his hand away and holds you against him to keep you sitting upright as your body is overtaken with euphoria. You pant against his shoulder, trying to gather your senses. 

You can feel him under you, hard and wanting, throbbing as you whimper and arch against him, letting the pleasure work through your body. Even when you’re barely coming down from an orgasm, you’re still longing to be filled with something more. But he ignores his own needs, instead focusing on you, softly pecking the top of your head and rubbing comforting circles against your arms. 

You lift your head from his chest to look at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dark eyes. Jake stares right back, unabashedly, in awe. “You’re so good to me, bunny.” You shiver at the praise. At the comfort. You shyly divert your eyes to stare at the marks you’ve left on his shoulders. 

“Only for you, Jake.” You don’t see it, but his lips lift into a small smile at your words. 

His hands drift down from your arms to hold you by the waist. “Only for me.” He echos, solidifying the statement. 

You gasp when he suddenly presses you down against his cock. Looking back up at him, he meets your wide eyes with a mischievous grin, hips rolling teasingly against yours. “And I’m all yours.” You position yourself over him all while keeping eye contact, wanting to drink in every microexpression on his face. 

“Yes.” You both sigh as he barely brushes against your wet opening. He takes a deep breath, clutching your hips as you begin your descent.

Your body slowly manages to swallow the first inch of him. And – oh – it’s so much better than you expected. He stretches you so fully, even barely inside of you, filling you exactly how you need him to. 

You let out a strained whimper from the back of your throat as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap. You whine as your body desperately clenches and stretches to accommodate him inside of you. His hold on your hips tightens as your thighs meet his, now fully impaled by his hard cock.  

“I thought it was ‘just the tip’.” Jake tries to tease, his deep voice gravelly with lust, but it comes out as more of a groan than a taunt.

You slowly shake your head, body trembling as you get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“You said you’re all mine, daddy.” The words practically melt from your lips, lethargic with heat. It catches him off guard. You moan, hips slowly moving over him to feel him deeper inside. “M-mine,” You repeat with a pant, so lost in desperation that you don’t even notice the way he’s looking at you, frozen in place. 

“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” He doesn’t know what else to say, brain overheating from your ministrations. You’ve never called him a pet name before, let alone used the word ‘daddy’ anywhere near him. You’ve always been a shy little bunny around him, always preciously out of reach, a tease to fantasize about, but now you’re wrapped around him, moaning beautifully destructive words. 

What really surprises him is the way he’s eagerly throbbing inside of you from that word. Desperate thoughts float in his mind: She wants me to take care of her, she needs me.

“Fuck me.” He groans to himself, willing his body to hold back from cumming inside of you right then and there. 

“P-please.” You beg with a broken voice, thinking he’s talking to you. Jake just nods understandingly and holds you closer with an arm wrapped around your torso, wanting to feel your whole body against his. He starts off slow, pressing up into your kneeling body with measured thrusts as he dots kisses along your neck and shoulders. You sigh something wistful before meeting his movements, eagerly lifting your hips against him. 

“God, bunny, you feel so good.” He can't help it, you’re all-encompassing like this, with your pretty little sighs and panted breaths, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, so he starts to speed up, projecting his desperation into his actions. Your back arches at the change of pace as he pumps into you, and it only makes him feel deeper. “So tight around me.” He pushes against your front wall on every thrust and you swear it makes you see stars. 

Your clit inevitably rubs against him as your bodies move with each other and it takes your pleasure to another level. You’re sure the sounds you’re making verge on embarrassing, but he seems to eat them up anyway. “Ah, right there--! Jake –”

“No, bunny,” He grits out, “It’s daddy.”

You whimper, “Daddy – ” He feels you flutter deliciously around him as your head begins to lull backward. He groans as your cunt sucks him deep inside, desperately milking his cock as you’re seized by ecstasy.

“Fucking take it, sweetheart.” 

“I-I think m’gonna…” Your eyes roll back before you can finish your sentence and white fills your vision. You let out a keening sound as you gush over him, thighs clenched around his as your second high moves through you. 

His eyes squeeze shut as he gives in and starts fucking you at a punishing pace. Your mouth drops open around an empty moan. You can only hold onto him as he takes what he wants from your body, intensifying your orgasm with sloppy thrusts. With a few more upward pushes, he lets out a breathy grunt and finishes inside of you, painting your walls with his warmth. 

You both stay in this position for a little longer. 

You can feel Jake’s heart beat rapidly against your chest as you cuddle against him. He’s still recovering from the onslaught of sensations and emotions. Both of you are sticky with sweat and slick, but neither of you care. His cock is still inside of you, keeping his cum locked inside as you dutifully warm him with your cunt. 

“Such a pretty girl…” He croons, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with such sincerity in his eyes, that it’s almost overwhelming. You bite your lip nervously at the compliment and attempt to look away, but before you can, he’s tilting your face up with the light touch of a finger, “Really? You’re gonna act all shy with my cock still in you?”

His words only make you squirm on top of him. He nearly chokes at the accidental stimulation. 

“You can’t just say stuff like that.” Your voice is small and cute.

“Then how am I supposed to fluster my girl?” 

Your eyes widen. His girl? 

“Your girl?”

“My girl.” He hums with a small smile before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

[sunflowerhyun]

how he sees me | hwang hyunjin | part two

◆ summary: “Do you love me?” she asked.

In his hesitation, she found her answer.

OR, alternatively, Hyunjin is a little bit of an asshole and Y/N just misses him.

◆ pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

◆ genre: ex-childhood-friends-to-lovers, punk!hyunjin au

◆ warnings: ! MDNI ! cursing, many references to past situations (in italics), alcohol consumption, angst, themes of depression, slight smut (?) consisting of making-out and brief grinding

◆ wc: 8k+

◆ a/n: it’s 4am and the long awaited part two is finally here!!! this part is a little heavy on y/n’s emotions, and very angst-y (i’m sorry in advance). i hope you all enjoy it just as much as i did writing it ♡

read part one here. | reference the masterlist here.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The first time Y/N met Hyunjin was in elementary school and she remembered every detail.

It was at the beginning of their math class, when Y/N was just starting the third grade. She remembers how excited she was to be in a new school, hair up in pig-tails, flower dress on. She was so giddy that she didn’t even mind sitting in the front by herself, happily swinging her feet in her chair as she colored on her notebook before class started. She was so giddy that she didn’t even notice when her teacher, Mrs. Anderson, had walked in with a little boy, standing beside her with his hands clutching his scooby doo lunch box.

He was dressed in a nice blue button up and khakis, cheeks chubby with a slight pinkness to them. His hair was nicely cut and slicked back at the top; he looked like a proper little boy, which is exactly what he was.

Mrs. Anderson started talking, to introduce the new student as Hyunjin from South Korea, and Y/N immediately felt even more giddy.

He had enthusiastically introduced himself and Mrs. Anderson told him to sit wherever he wanted. Y/N pouted slightly at this, knowing he would choose a seat next to someone else, as nobody ever wanted to share a desk with her if they could help it. Her eyes widened slightly whenever he had threw his lunch box on the desk beside hers, and she looked up in surprise, seeing a sly grin take over his lips as he sat down.

“Hi.” He spoke, side-eyeing her as he took out his own notebook and a pencil.

“Hi, Hyunjin. My name is Y/N!” She excitedly grinned, and Hyunjin faced her. He gave her a quick glance from head-to-toe, a grin forming on his lips as he let out a, “Hi, Y/N. You remind me of a flower. Do you like flowers? My favorite ones are roses. My nanny says they are a symbol of love, but I have no idea what that means. Do you like roses, too?”

The talking continued all until lunch, when Hyunjin had sat with her at the lunch table in the cafeteria. He was eating some dumplings, while Y/N was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She had asked them if they were good, and he started feeding her bites of his. In return, she halved her sandwich and shared it with him.

In between bites and giggles, Y/N had quickly found out that Hyunjin liked to talk. He talked and he talked until school was dismissed, where he was forced to leave her side for the day.

“We are going to be the best of friends!” Hyunjin had spoke as he stood up after the teachers called out his name, indicating his ride was here to pick him up.

“Pinky promise?” Y/N had asked, holding her pinky up in the air. He giggled at this, not hesitating to wrap his around hers with a, “I pinky promise!”

It’s funny how things turn out, isn’t it?

Pinky promises were just full of shit. Y/N knew that, and yet she still made them anyway. And out of the many that she has made, it only took one broken promise to completely change everything; it only took one broken promise from him to completely change everything.

Y/N had grown up with him, had spent every single second of her free time with him amongst the stars and the skies and whatever else. He was there when she had her first period, standing at her front door with a box of pads and some chocolate milk his nanny had bought for him to give her after she had ignored him for two days and yelled at him for stepping on the back of her shoes at recess. He was there when she had gotten her first job as a waitress at a café up the street, being her first customer and tipping her $50 for a simple cup of coffee and a bagel, just because he knew she was struggling with money. He was there when her grandma had passed away from breast cancer after a long two years of fighting, laying with her for hours in the pitch black dark and silence, holding her while she cried in his chest.

Y/N remembered every detail of their friendship, whether it be the good or the bad, but what she remembered most was the little things that he never saw in himself.

Whenever he smiled, his eyes would form little crescents and his laugh would sound like her favorite song. He always tilted his head back whenever he would laugh at something stupid, and Y/N hated when he did that because everything went dull and dark. But whenever he looked back at her, the light would return as quickly as it faded and the universe would spin again.

Whenever he was anxious about something, his foot would bounce up and down repeatedly. Y/N would always have to put her hand on the top of his thigh to remind him to calm down, and she remembered the look on his face each time. His cheeks would redden slightly, a sheepish smile on his lips, and he would mumble out a soft apology. Everytime she moved her hand away, he would put it back, insisting that the only way he wouldn’t move his foot was if her hand stayed there.

He was the happiest when he was painting. Y/N loved to watch him paint.

He started painting in middle school, when they were both thirteen. He had decided to take art as one of his electives and easily succeeded in it. It came so naturally to him, just as everything did, and Y/N had wished more times than once that she could have that ability to be perfect in every single thing she did.

When he was younger, Hyunjin painted flowers. Roses were his favorites, so naturally, that was what he started with. Y/N remembered watching him paint whenever she came over, laying on his bed with her iPad in front of her while he sat at his desk with a picture of roses pulled up on his laptop. His eyes had a different twinkle in them while he was focused on the colors and the shapes, and his tongue would stick out slightly on the side of his mouth in concentration. She was always so mesmerized by him and would watch him for hours without complaint. The look on his face once he finished always made up for the long wait—the excited glint in his eyes, the higher-pitched voice he had when he turned around to show her, the wide smile that always reached his eyes, the warmth on his cheeks.

He was falling in love with art, while she was falling in love with him.

Coming to that realization as they got older became difficult for Y/N to grasp. In a way, she knew that she had always loved him. The little things that defined him as his own person clouded her mind for years, slipping into her dreams while she yearned for it to become a reality. He was always her Hyunjin, and she was always his Y/N.

And she hated the fact that she was still wanting to believe that.

“You’re not going tomorrow.”

Y/N didn’t move from her current spot in her bed, hidden under the covers, arms wrapped around her body and pulling herself together. Everything was dark, just as she wanted it to be, tears and make-up staining the pillow case she was laying her head on. Felix had finally gotten her out of the bathroom at the club, wrapping her in his arms and leading her outside to Minho’s car without making a scene. Majority of the people there were too preoccupied anyway, much to Y/N’s relief.

Minho had insisted on coming back with them, just to make sure they got home safely, much to Y/N’s protests. She begged for him to stay with his friends and not worry about her, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. She already felt extremely embarrassed at the fact that she had made a scene outside, in front of Chan and his bandmates, in front of Minho and Felix, in front of Hyunjin.

Her Hyunjin.

“Are you even listening to me? Look, I really hate to be that friend, but you are not going to that festival tomorrow. It’s only going to satisfy him in such a fucked up way that you’re going to be there watching him perform. It’s not good for you. You’re not going.”

“How about you stop bossing her around and let her decide what’s best for herself?” Minho’s voice chimed in.

“No offense, but you don’t know half the shit that asshole has done to her. She needs someone to talk some sense into her because I know she’s going to want to go, and it isn’t going to turn out good.” Felix scoffed out a reply, and Y/N could hear some shuffling as she felt someone sit on the edge of her bed.

“Still, it’s up to her. You shouldn’t be telling her to do something just because you think it would benefit her for the good. People cope in different ways.”

“She had a fucking panic attack from that guy!” Felix exclaimed, the bed shaking a little as he held his hands up in exaggeration. “That should say everything! And even then—“

“I’m not going,” Y/N interrupted him, snuggling deeper into her pillow. Her head was starting to hurt and she couldn’t take the constant bickering back and forth, “I’m not going, okay? Can you please just… stop talking about me like I’m not here?”

It was quiet for a moment, and then she heard a sigh.

The bed moved again, bedsheets rustling, and then she could feel a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Felix spoke, rubbing her shoulder over the comforter, “We didn’t mean to come off that way. Do you need anything?”

“No,” She quickly replied, secretly hoping Felix would get up and leave her alone. She loved him to death, but she just wanted to be alone right now, to wallow in her self-pity a bit longer. It was quiet for another moment, and then she felt the hand on her shoulder trail down to her back.

“I’m gonna go get you some water, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Footsteps were heard going out her bedroom door until they grew faint, and Y/N let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding. She closed her eyes, pulling the blanket closer to her chest, when a soft voice spoke out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It was Minho, and Y/N could feel his presence coming closer to her. She froze for a second, forgetting that he was even still here, pulling the blanket off of her so she could see him.

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, hands twitching slightly by his side, as if he didn’t know what to do with them, “I’m so sorry. I would have never brought you there or even offered if I knew. I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. I’m just—I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Y/N sat up, wiping underneath her eyes with her hands in attempt to get some of the mascara and eyeliner off of her face, reaching her hand out towards him. He hesitated for a moment before slowly grasping her hand in his, and Y/N smiled briefly, knowing Minho wasn’t the biggest on touch yet still let her hold him in a way.

“It’s not your fault. Exactly like you just said, you didn’t know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want to go through that again. And it’s a little embarrassing,” She let out a chuckle, “I’m just embarrassed right now is all. You didn’t know. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I know but still,” He replied with a sigh, “I just won’t go tomorrow either. We can all go do something else—“

“No, you’re going to go,” She interrupted him, “Chan is your best friend. You’ve been so excited about it. You’re going to go and enjoy yourself and support him. Just because he’s in the same band doesn’t mean you can’t go.”

“Well, yeah, but I’d feel weird if I—“

“Minho, you’re giving me a headache,” Y/N interrupted him, again, letting go of his hand to lay back down with a dramatic sigh.

Minho rolled his eyes, “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Go where?” Felix asked as he re-entered the room, placing the cup of ice water with a lemon slice in it on her bedside table.

“The festival.”

“Oh, you’re still going?” He asked Minho, but before he could answer, Y/N spoke up, “Yes, he’s still going. And you are, too.”

“Hell the fuck no I’m not,” Felix scoffed out, crossing his arms across his chest.

Y/N groaned in slight annoyance, “You are both getting on my nerves. Lix, you had such a good time tonight, and I could tell you really liked Chan and Changbin. I was just telling Minho this, but just because he’s a bit of an asshole, doesn’t mean you can’t go support everyone else. It’s not going to hurt my feelings, I promise. Plus, I kind of want to be alone for a bit. No offense.”

“A bit of an asshole?! More like a—“

“Lix,” Minho interrupted him with a warning glare, and Felix sighed, glancing over at Y/N who was already looking at him with a pleading expression. Rather it be the tired, broken look in her eyes or the fact that she might be right, Felix found himself caving in, sighing out a short, “Fine.”

Y/N smiled slightly, mumbling out a thank you as she curled herself back up into her comforter. She just wanted them to be happy and enjoy themselves; that’s all she wants. Plus, Minho had paid a lot for the tickets and she didn’t want them to go to waste. She decided she would Venmo him for her portion anyway once she mustered enough energy to roll over and glance at her phone.

“I guess we’ll leave you alone for a bit. It’s almost midnight so we should probably get some rest anyway since the festival starts at noon tomorrow,” Minho let out, Felix reluctantly agreeing. The same hand was felt on her shoulder again, a deep sigh carrying out through the room.

“Try to get some sleep, okay? We’ll see you in the morning before we leave.” Felix softly spoke, and Y/N nodded her head in reply, even though they couldn’t see her.

Seconds later the door quietly shut and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Everything was now silent and dark, despite the faint sounds of Felix and Minho walking around the house, and Y/N suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness, mind drifting back to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin, and his stupid long hair and piercing brown eyes. Hyunjin, and his beautiful body that was now adorned in multiple tattoos and piercings. Hyunjin, who seemed to be a completely different person, yet still so familiar at the same time.

She rolled over, throwing the comforter off of her curled up body, sitting up on the side of the bed. Glancing at her window, she noticed the stars were out. She slowly got out of bed, pulling her dress down a little as she approached the window, the stars and the moon shining brightly, igniting a soft glow. Her hand carefully grazed the coolness of the window, a tear slowly falling down her cheek as she sunk down to the floor, nothing but Hyunjin on her mind.

——>

“Do you think we’re best friends in every universe?”

Hyunjin swiped the brush against the canvas in front of him before dipping it in the now dirty cup of water, tongue peeking out from the corner of his lip, letting out a soft hum in response. Y/N rolled over to her stomach at his response, hands underneath her chin as she faced him, canvas blocking half of his face from her view.

“Did you hear me?” She asked with a small huff, and Hyunjin glanced at her briefly before continuing his strokes on the canvas.

“Why are you asking such a random question? Obviously.” He replied with a click of his tongue and a slight eye roll.

Y/N glanced around his bedroom, eyes settling on his desk cluttered with multiple art supplies and sketches, and then at the picture of her and him at the photo booth at Chuck e. cheese hanging up on his wall. She chose her next question carefully, softly. “So you don’t think that in another universe, we could be something else?”

Hyunjin glanced at her again, and she could feel his gaze on her face, but her eyes stayed locked on the picture. “Like what?” He asked.

She shuffled a little bit in his bed, hands coming down to lay in front of her as she played with the loose thread on his comforter. “Like… two pigeons running down the beach. Or sunflowers swaying in a field,” She spoke, in thought, before leaning her head on one of her hands, “We could even be married in another life. Wouldn’t that be fun? Growing old together?”

It was quiet for a minute, the sound of birds faintly chirping outside being the only sound heard. Y/N snuck a glance at him, wishing she could see his entire expression instead of only half, gulping loudly when seeing that he looked lost in thought.

“Yeah, it would,” He finally replied, voice coming out soft, unwavering. “We are going to grow old together anyway, though. So I guess it wouldn’t matter if we were married or not.”

Y/N glanced at the picture again, the giant smiles plastered on their faces as they excitedly hugged each other. She remembered them wanting to be as close as possible to ensure they both fit in the picture from how small the booth was; being as close as possible to one another was always their thing. She wished they could get closer.

“But wouldn’t it be nice to be married to each other? And to do things married people do? To… to wake up beside each other every morning, and to cook dinner together every night, and… and…” She trailed off, cheeks heating up when realizing she was definitely speaking her inner thoughts out loud and she definitely should not finish her sentence. Her hands began to grow clammy from the slight anxiety she was feeling, and she shook her head slightly, sitting up on the edge of the bed and reaching for her iPad and bag.

“Nevermind. I don’t really know what I’m saying,” She laughed out, shoving her belongings into her bag quickly before throwing it over her shoulder. “I’m gonna head out. Mom’s making dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She quickly walked past him, a soft grip on her wrist making her stop in her tracks. She looked up to see that Hyunjin had stood up, the paint brush now sitting in the cup, his expression soft. “It would be nice,” He let out, and Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, “We already do those things, anyway. But you know you’re the only person I’d want to do it with. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend. Right. They are best friends, and that’s all it would ever be.

“Yeah,” She replied, eyes trailing down to the plush of his lips. The last time they kissed was when they had their second make out session in the back seat of his car after he finished soccer practice two weeks ago. Her cheeks started to heat up at the memory, and she found herself biting her bottom lip slightly when remembering the sound he made whenever she accidentally pressed down too hard on his lap.

Hyunjin noticed, finding himself doing the same as his teeth sunk into his lower lip, the grip on her wrist tightening slightly. Nothing was said for a minute, the tension shifting in the air. And then his lips were on hers for the third time.

Y/N doesn’t know who initiated it first, but she didn’t care. The bag that was on her shoulder fell to the floor with a soft thud and his hands were cupping her face. She put hers on his shoulders, trailing them up and down, not exactly sure where she should put them. She just wanted to feel him in more ways than one, so she took a step forward, his knees hitting the edge of the bed as he fell on top of it. Their kiss broke, but only for a second before Y/N was climbing on top of him, a small moan escaping his lips as she kissed him again.

She was definitely feeling more confident this time. The first time her and Hyunjin had made out was sloppy, but it was amazing. The second time was rushed and hot, as Hyunjin just needed to release some steam from a shitty practice he had. But this time was desperate and so, so dangerous. It was so dangerous because she was becoming addicted and eventually it was going to kill her.

His hands gripped her thighs, and she pulled back. “W-we’re doing it again,” She stuttered out, his lips moving to her neck, making the butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“And?” He replied, hands now moving towards her ass, letting out a deep groan at the fullness in his hands. He kissed her again, slipping his tongue past her lips, and she let out a content sigh at the feeling.

“I-is this… weird to you?” She struggled to get out her sentence, rolling her head to the side to give him access to her neck instead of her lips. It’s not that she didn’t want to kiss him, she most definitely did, but she wanted to see where his head was at. Which was, unfortunately, sometimes difficult to do.

He didn’t reply, choosing to pepper her neck with kisses and slight bites, and she shifted on his lap each time, soft moans filling his room. “Jinnie,” She tried to get his attention again, gasping slightly when feeling him underneath her, a tingling sensation traveling down from her head to her toes. He buckled his hips up, and she gently pushed him down.

“What?” He asked, panting slightly, lips red and moist from their spit, and she gulped before asking her question again. Hyunjin was starring so intensely at her that it made her squirm in his lap, and he tightened his grip on her ass slightly.

“No, I don’t think it’s weird,” He replied out through breaths, eyes trailing down her body and back up to her face briefly, “We’re just best friends who sometimes make out. People do it all the time.”

Do they? Y/N thought to herself, glancing down at her thighs and away from him, an uneasy feeling growing in her chest. Hyunjin noticed her expression, moving his hands to her hips instead, rubbing them a little as an act of comfort.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asked, a slightly concerned expression on his face, and Y/N immediately shook her head.

“Of course not! I’m always comfortable with you. It’s just… is this… okay? Are we… okay?”

His hands stopped their movements, and Y/N immediately regretted the question that just came out of her mouth. He looked as if he was lost in thought, a slight pout on his lips, and his hair was slightly falling into his eyes, looking a little unkempt, but Y/N thought he was beautiful.

“I don’t see an issue with it,” He finally replied, lightly trailing his hands up and down her thighs, a soft grin forming on his lips, “Like I said, we’re best friends who sometimes make out. We’re okay. Nothing will change that.”

Y/N woke up to her phone going off, the vibration making a screeching noise on her bedside table, eyes struggling to open from the bright sun that was currently gracing her face. She blinked a couple times, letting out an annoyed groan as she covered her eyes with her hand in attempt to block out the light from blinding her vision so early in the morning.

The first thing she noticed once she somewhat came to her senses was that she was so uncomfortable. Her back was aching and her neck was as stiff as a rock, and she turned her head to the side to notice that she was currently laying on the floor next to the window. No wonder her back felt like shit.

She cursed to herself, bringing herself up to sit on her knees, back popping and a grimace forming on her lips. She can’t believe she slept an entire night on the floor. And she didn’t even change out of her dress or take her makeup off, which is something she always does, so why did she not do it this time?

Memories from last night flooded her brain all at once, and suddenly, she wasn’t able to feel the physical pain from her back or her neck, because nothing can compare to the pain of heartbreak. The dream she had last night of her and Hyunjin was fresh in her mind, hitting her like a ton of bricks as she felt a heavy feeling in her chest. Waking up to the thought of him was not a great start to her day, but it’s not like she never stopped thinking about him anyway.

Willing herself to stand up and stop wallowing so much in her self-pity, she slowly shuffled her way towards her bathroom, turning the light on and cringing at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a fucking wreck, with mascara running down her face in streaks, lipstick slightly smudged around her mouth, eyes puffy and red and dry. Her hair was still slicked back into the ponytail and she mentally rated the styling cream she used five stars. However, she couldn’t think about that long as the events from last night kept replaying in her mind.

“Hey Petal.”

He had called her by her nickname that he made for her when they were in middle school, when Hyunjin had gifted her a bouquet of roses after her chorus concert. It seemed fitting at the time, so naturally, the nickname stuck with her. He was the only one who called her that, and he was the only one she wanted to call her that. But last night, it didn’t seem right coming from his lips when there was so much distance between them for years. Yet, she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest when he spoke to her, despite everything.

Another vibration from her phone interrupted her thoughts and she shook her head slightly before walking to her bedside table to unplug her phone, seeing that she had multiple unread texts and two calls from Felix.

lix🐥: hey ugly

lix🐥: minho convinced me to not wake u up, but i left u some ramen if ur hungry whenever u get up. we’re heading to the festival now but i’ll text u whenever we get there

lix🐥: we’re here. it’s crowded af and my social anxiety is slowly brewing 😀 gonna get some drinks and claim us a spot. i’ll send pics l8ter

lix🐥: 1 attachment

lix🐥: me and minho are currently downing this bucket of beers rn. say a prayer for me plz. miss u

lix🐥: 2 missed calls

lix🐥: hey bubs it’s been like 3 hrs since i last texted can u tell me if ur alive at least bc im ✨worried✨

lix🐥: ///:

y/n: i’m alive. i just woke up. stop worrying about me and enjoy yourself. let me know when you’re both otw home and be safe

lix🐥: 🫡

Y/N let out a sigh, locking her phone back before throwing it on her bed. She shivered, goosebumps forming on her skin from the AC that just turned on, reminding her that she was still in her dress that was now bunched up her ass. She cringed at that fact, deciding she should take a shower and wash away the overwhelming sense of depression and desperation she was currently feeling from last night, feet shuffling against the floor as she made her way back towards the bathroom to turn the water on.

She took her time washing her hair and body before finding herself curling up on the floor of the shower, head resting against the coolness of the tile behind her as she soaked in the scalding hot water falling down her body. Hyunjin had always hated how hot she kept the water when she showered, and she found herself thinking back to one of the multiple times he had yelled at her over it.

“Are you almost done?!” Hyunjin yelled from the inside of his bedroom, laying down on his bed with his phone in his hands, “I’ve got to shower too, you know! I can only wait so long!”

Y/N rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore him as she hummed to Katy Perry’s Fireworks that was currently playing on his bluetooth speaker. She just finished shaving her legs and was currently finishing up washing her body with her designated hot pink loofah that always hung next to Hyunjin’s blue one in the shower.

“Hello?! Are you ignoring me?!” He yelled out again just as she finished rinsing off.

“I told you I would let you know when I’m done! Stop yelling and being so dramatic and wait your turn!”

She heard some shuffling, and then the bathroom door slammed open, making Y/N let out a short scream. “What are you doing?! You’re not allowed in here yet!”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes even though she couldn’t see him, reaching up to tug his shirt off and throwing it on the bathroom floor, “You’re taking too long so I’m coming in. I smell like grass and shit and it’s starting to give me a headache.”

“Like hell you are!” Y/N replied, opening the shower door slightly so she could peek her head out, a gasp threatening to escape her mouth when she caught sight of a shirtless Hyunjin who was now in the process of sliding his athletic shorts off his legs. “Are you insane?! Do not come in here! I’m literally naked!”

“No shit,” Hyunjin let out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he stepped out of his shorts, “I won’t look at you. We can just graze our butt cheeks against each other as we take turns rinsing off. This is a great way for us to up our friendship level.”

Y/N could feel her face turning red at his comment, mouth falling open in complete disbelief that he had even said that, and she found herself stuttering out a mix of words that made absolutely no sense. It was when Hyunjin reached for his briefs, about to take them off, that had her finally forming words.

“Stop!” She screeched out, a smirk of triumph forming on Hyunjin’s lips as he glanced at her, “Oh my god, you’re literally so annoying! Hand me my towel, asshole.”

Hyunjin smirked widened as he reached for the towel currently folded and sitting on the toilet seat. He unwrapped it, handing it out to her with a sickly sweet look on his face, and Y/N huffed in annoyance before jerking it out of his hands. She could hear Hyunjin singing, could picture him currently rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet as he waited for her to step out. She decided to turn the hot water up slightly out of spite before she wrapped the towel around her body, opening the door wider and stepping out of the shower.

Just as she suspected, Hyunjin was still standing there, grin still on his face. He glanced at her feet, and then back to her face, a few drops of water trailing down her neck. She glared at him, “You’re not even going to say thank you for keeping the water on for you?”

He let out a chuckle, finding himself wanting to wipe the drops of water off her neck but restrained himself, “Thanks, Pedal. You’re an angel.”

“Idiot.” She mumbled to herself, letting out a small shriek when he reached for his briefs again, quickly running out of the room and closing the bathroom door. She could hear Hyunjin laughing on the other side and wanted to yell at him to shut up but decided against it.

She began drying herself off when she heard him scream, giggling to herself as she knew what he was screaming about, pulling her shirt over her head. “Seriously, Y/N?! You’ve just scalded my dick over here!”

She laughed to herself, a pleasing smile on her face as she continued to get dressed. “You’re not going to even say anything?! You keep the water way too hot! No wonder your skin is always so red!”

“Shut up and shower! You smell like shit!” She yelled back, thankful that nobody was home to hear them basically cussing each other out.

Suddenly, a loud bang was heard, a long groan following shortly after. Y/N turned her head towards the bathroom, immediately rushing in to see Hyunjin’s silhouette laying on shower floor.

“Oh my god, Jinnie!” She yelled out, “Are you okay? Did you just fall?”

She opened the shower door slightly to get a glimpse of him just to make sure he was okay, letting out the loudest scoff when seeing a smirk on his face, a satisfied hum escaping his lips. “Now if you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask, Pedal.”

“Shut up, idiot!” She replied, quickly shutting the door back, face flushing even more when he began laughing like the little menace he is. She decided she was going to turn the water even hotter next time.

The urge to cry again was strong, but she was sick of crying; she was sick of feeling this way, so she told herself she wasn’t going to cry anymore. That mindset didn’t last long, however, as she eventually felt her eyes tearing up.

Hyunjin was always in the back of her mind someway or another, but now that she had seen him in the flesh after so many years, she didn’t know what to think. She had spent months attempting to reach out once he had left, attempting to even ask his own parents where he had gone, and got nothing in return. Eventually, the texts went from blue to green, and her heart went from broken to completely shattered.

Hyunjin had always wanted to be an artist. He loved to create art, through paint or pencils or dance. He was always creative and told his own stories in more subtle ways, always full of light despite the lingering darkness that always found a way back to him. Y/N had noticed more times than once that he would put on an act at times, knowing how much he despised his parents, knowing that he hated living at home. She knew he wanted to leave, but she didn’t think he would leave without her. And then he leaves, disappears for years, and now suddenly shows back up as the lead singer of a band? Hyunjin had always wanted to be an artist, so it didn’t make any sense to her. None of it made sense to her.

She grew annoyed at the fact that she was crying again, harshly wiping her tears from her face. She wanted to scream, wanted to claw her skin off her body; she hated feeling this way, and she hated the way her heart was reacting. She should be angry, completely and utterly repulsed at the thought of seeing Hyunjin after the shit he has put her through. But she isn’t, and she hates herself for it.

She just missed him. She missed him so much.

Y/N doesn’t know how long she stayed sitting in the shower, but it was long enough to where the hot water ran out and her skin turned wrinkly. She felt numb to the coldness of the water, not even flinching when feeling it falling down on her, suffocating her. Right now, she wished it would. It would be so much easier.

Y/N thought about seeing a therapist for the longest time after Hyunjin had left her. It wasn’t until her breakdown with Felix that had her solidifying the fact that she definitely needed to talk to someone, as it was now interfering with her intimacy with other people. Felix had befriended her and guided her to get the help she needed, and she would forever be grateful for that. She was getting better, had graduated university in the top 10% of her class, got herself a job working in the ICU at one of the top hospital’s in the state, and had made new friends and memories. She was getting better until she saw him, and now it feels like it’s back to square one.

She thought of Hyunjin and the many pinky promises he had made with her. She thought of Hyunjin and the way he always made her feel safe. She thought of Hyunjin and his tattoos and piercings and long hair that covered his eyes so elegantly. She thought of the smirk on his lips, the fire his touch left on her skin, and she became angry. How dare he just show up again like this after years and pretend nothing had even happened?She was pissed at the thought of him acting so nonchalant, so unbothered, while she had spent years crying and praying for him to come back to her somehow.

It was uncanny, really—a fever dream. And she’ll be damned if she lets him get away again so easily.

She turned the shower off, a sudden coolness gracing her skin as she stepped out of the shower. She didn’t even bother wrapping herself up in a towel, leaving a trail of water as she rushed back into her bedroom, clicking on Felix’s location. After all, she did still have the ticket saved on her phone, and she didn’t want it to go to waste.

y/n: changed my mind, i’ve decided to come. i’ll be there soon

——>

It was excruciatingly hot.

Y/N was stood in line to get a drink, (liquid courage, of course), and she could just practically feel the sweat dripping down her back and into her skirt. The thought made her cringe but she had been in line for about thirty minutes now and it was almost her turn, so she had to tough it out. It’s insane how hot it was even at 1600, but luckily, the sun would be going down soon.

She sighed, pushing the sunglasses she was wearing further up her nose, glancing over to see a girl wearing a black crop top with Stray Kids engraved across her breasts in red.

“You’re here for Stray Kids, I’m assuming?” She let out without thinking, the girl turning to look at her, placing a hand on her forehead in attempts to block the sun from her eyes.

“Hell yeah! They’re the only reason I came to this thing,” She grinned, quickly taking her phone out of her pocket to show her the back of her phone case, “Huge Hyunjin girlie. I wanna fuck him so bad, dude. He’s sex on legs.”

Y/N felt her breath hitch at the picture she had on her phone case. He was posing in the mirror, his collarbones and shoulders on display, hair bleached blonde, biting his lip softly. She had only ever seen him with black hair, so this was new to her.

She found herself starring at the picture for far too long, the girl letting out a giggle before putting her phone back in her back pocket of her jean shorts. “Told you, sex on legs,” She grinned again, and Y/N couldn’t disagree with that statement, “I heard he gets around with his fans. Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight.”

Y/N felt a strange feeling of slight jealousy at her comments, annoyance overcoming her and she glared at the girl through her sunglasses. She shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place because now her mood turned sour and she just wanted to punch this girl in the face for even thinking she would end up in his bed.

Choosing to ignore her, she finally ended up at the front of the line, ordering the largest size of a frozen mango margarita. She took a large gulp as she turned around after saying a quick thank you, eyes scanning the huge crowd in attempts to find the B stage that Felix and Minho were currently standing at. However, she realized she should probably use the bathroom before she met up with them, so she asked the closest person she could find where the bathrooms were.

“They’re right over there!” She replied, pointing to a section where a bunch of different trailers were parked. She thanked them and made her way over there, finding the closest trailer and walking inside.

She cringed at the thought of bringing her drink into the bathroom with her, (she should’ve thought this through), but had no choice but to, stepping inside the bathroom and sliding the door shut.

After she washed and dried her hands, she let out a sigh, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She had opted to braid her hair instead of attempting to fix it, the two braids hanging over her shoulders. Her top was low cut, black, and lace, splitting down the middle and flowing over her sides, coming down to her boots that covered her ankles. Her stomach was on display, belly button ring shining from the light in the bathroom. She wanted to fit the festival vibe a little more, and she wanted to dress confidently. She thought she looked good, but would it be good enough for him? She shook her head, trying to get those thoughts out of her mind, grabbing her drink and sliding open the bathroom door.

She was surprised to see a guy sitting on the couch that was weirdly placed near the bathroom, stumbling back slightly when seeing that he looked awfully familiar.

He glanced up at the sound, eyebrow furrowing in confusion. “Uh,” He let out, glancing her body over from head to toe before looking back at her face, “Who the fuck are you?”

Slightly taken aback, she took a step backwards, “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Now you’re hot and all, but who the fuck are you and why are you in my trailer?”

Y/N blinked, words failing to come out, and she knew she looked like an absolute idiot. Why did this guy look so familiar, and why was he talking to her like that? Isn’t this the public restroom?

“Alright, I’m calling security.” He decided, beginning to type in a number on his phone, and Y/N was frozen in her spot. What the fuck was going on?

Before anything could happen, the door opened, and Y/N felt her throat close up.

“Han, you won’t believe what shit I just heard. I—“ Hyunjin stopped his sentence, eyes widening when seeing that Y/N was standing in their trailer. Y/N couldn’t move, couldn’t speak—she felt like she could pass out any second now. Everything was happening too fast, and she could feel her breathing picking up.

Not even five seconds passed and two men were barging through the door, shoving past Hyunjin and heading straight towards Y/N. She took a step back in fright, stumbling when both of the men gripped her arms so tightly it was sure to leave a bruise. She let out a gasp, the men dragging her like she was some ragdoll, and Hyunjin immediately stepped in front of the door.

“What the fuck? Don’t touch her like that!” He yelled out, but the men ignored him, continuing to shove her towards the door. It wasn’t until she stumbled over her feet and fell, one of the men roughly grabbing her and jerking her back up, that Hyunjin had lost it.

“I said don’t fucking touch her! Put her the fuck down and take your hands off her before I get you both fired!”

It was then that the men let her go, and Y/N immediately backed away. She let out a wince, rubbing her arms, noticing that she already had a bruise forming on her thigh from when she fell. Her arms were aching and she just wanted to get the hell out of here. This was such a bad idea. She shouldn’t have came.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” The guy on the couch, Han, asked, and Hyunjin glared at him.

“What am I doing?! What the fuck are you doing? Did you seriously call them to come get her?”

Han let out a scoff, “Obviously. She’s in our trailer. I mean she’s fine as hell but she’s obviously a crazed fan. Why else would she be in here?”

If looks could kill, Han would be dead by now. “She’s not a crazed fan! I know her! It’s Y/N!” He yelled out, Han’s eyes widening slightly in realization, and Y/N could cry right now. “Get out!” He screamed at the two men still standing by the door, then glancing back at Han who now looked guilty as fuck sitting on the couch. “You too!”

“Where the fuck am I supposed to go?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care! Just please get out.”

Han let out a sigh, glancing over at Y/N, mumbling out an apology before heading out the door. It was quiet, too quiet, and Y/N refused to look up, hugging her arms across her chest.

“I… I was just coming to use the bathroom,” She softly spoke, not really knowing what else to say other than to explain herself, “This girl told me this was where the public restrooms were. I—I didn’t know it was your trailer. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go now.”

She then quickly attempted to walk past him and out the door, but a hand on her wrist stopped her. She winced slightly, and he immediately let go, letting out a, “It’s okay. You… you don’t have to leave.”

She could feel her eyes watering, a heavy feeling in her chest, so she chose to ignore him and pushed the door open. A strangled noise behind her made her stop in her tracks, voice heavy, pleading.

“Please don’t leave me.”

A tear fell down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away, taking in a deep breath, closing her eyes. This was what she wanted, right? She wanted to be able to see him again, to talk to him, to ask him why he left. So why was it so hard?

She stood there for a second before slowly turning around, eyes softening at the sight of him. His eyes were heavy, glossing over, and Y/N just wanted to hug him. So she did.

He stumbled back a few steps before his arms latched around her, holding her close to him. Her face was buried in his shirt, her arms wrapped around his neck. She was holding him so tightly, afraid if she let go he would disappear again. And she really, really didn’t want him to disappear again.

“I’ve missed you,” She sobbed out, tears soaking his shirt, but she couldn’t help it. The words kept coming out and she couldn’t stop it. “I’ve missed you so much. I can’t—I can’t…”

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’m here, Y/N,” He whispered in her ear, and she sobbed even harder. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m here. I’m right here.”

It was embarrassing, really, how easily her body betrayed her—how easily her mind betrayed her. When it comes to him, she has no self control, no mind of her own. He was here and she was here and that was all that mattered; he was all that mattered.

She was sure she would regret this later. But right now, she needed him to hold her. It was all she wanted for five years; it was all she ever wanted.

So he held her and she held him and she cried and cried and cried, until she couldn’t anymore. And when he wiped her tears away with his fingers once she looked at him, when he whispered how much he missed her and how sorry he was, when he cradled her face in his hands so tenderly and looked into his eyes that she loved so much, she finally felt at home.

“Hyunnie, I brought you some of those churros you like,” A girl’s voice was heard once the door opened, and Y/N turned around, heart dropping in the pit of her stomach when seeing the same girl from last night that was kissing and grinding all over him. “Maybe after you eat we can—oh. Who’s this?”

And maybe that’s the best thing about home—the feeling of it. Where we love is home. Even if we have to physically walk away from it, our hearts will still stay.

Hyunjin was her home. But she wasn’t his.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

▫️taglist: @hyundumpling, @hhwangsmoon, @luvyblossom, @inthefairygrove

[megumimania]

CRUSH — toji fushiguro

synopsis: toji has a crush on you, too bad he’s awfully shy to make a move.

warnings: toji fushiguro x fem!reader, fluff, toji and reader are both awkward, no curse au, minor mentions of shiu and megumi, toji finally beating the deadbeat dad allegations.

toji fushiguro felt absolutely pathetic right now.

love had never been his strong suit. in fact he was convinced he was going to die alone until he met megumi’s mom. in the brief time they were together toji felt love’s greatest pleasures until she passed, leaving him with his greatest blessing megumi.

megumi was the excuse he used these days when shiu often asked him when he was going to get himself back out there again. it was easy for shiu to say when all he had to do was to turn up his charm and work that smile to get the ladies to fall head over heels for him.

toji however was a bit rusty in that department. rusty was the lighter way of putting it. his flirting skills were essentially made redundant by the time he managed to pull megumi’s mom.

to this day he doesn’t know how he managed to do it, when all he had was shitty dark jokes and a dream. plus he had a cute body that probably really sold it for her.

how he missed her so much at times.

he wasn’t oblivious, he knew he was a fairly attractive man. he saw the way women and men alike would ogle at him, hushed whispers being exchanged as he walked past them. often breaking into giggles like they were giddy teenagers. the attention that he received was nice but he didn’t pay it much mind, especially since it wasn’t the attention he wanted.

you were the pretty face that was bartending at the old bar he frequented at.

after he was stood up on a date, you placed a consolatory drink at his table that you insisted was on the house, no matter how hard he tried to pay. it seemed that you won the battle in the end as he slumped back into his seat in resignation, raising up the glass as a silent thank you.

that small act of kindness stayed with toji for a while. he found himself gravitating towards the bar, just so he could see you. he wasn’t even a drinker with alcohol having little to no effect on him but he bought drinks anyway, hoping he could turn your brief interactions into something more.

god he was losing it.

but this was worth it when you flashed him a smile that made his heart stutter, before turning back to deal with the other patrons at the bar. he watched you make the rounds whilst simultaneously trying to brush off poor pick up lines and flirty advances from tipsy patrons.

toji waited until the end of your shift as per usual watching the last of the patrons leave the bar. the nippy weather making him wish he wore a heavier jacket. looking at the time on his watch, he figured that shiu wouldn’t complain having to babysit megumi for another 20-30 minutes.

you waved bye to your coworkers as you left the bar spotting toji leaning on one of the lampposts waiting for you. it had been a common occurence ever since a creep who couldn't take no for an answer tried to follow you home and luckily toji was there before shit hit the fan.

“thanks for waiting for me.” you tried to cool your nerves and keep your mind off the fact how he good he looked under the pale moonlight. it was hard to not be stuttering mess around toji, his tall imposing stature was one that often pushed others away but it drew you in like a moth to a flame.

“how was work?” a simple question that should encourage the simple response of it was fine or it was alright. however you short circuited, your brain lagging for a few minutes whilst toji split his attention on the road ahead and you, ever so patient.

"it was fine." you spluttered out after a couple of minutes, embarrasment creeping up behind you. god why couldn't you respond like a normal, cool person. you chided yourself quietly, hoping he wouldn't pick up on it.

toji was lucky that it was late at night, with the shadows hiding the ghost of a smile on his face. he adored every single thing about you. the rest of the walk was punctuated with heavy silence, both of you too tired and awkward to engage in deep conversations but you tried where you could.

"so, uh what plans do you have for the weekend?" you asked, trying to sound casual. it was small talk, not invasive you hoped. toji racked through his mind trying to find the most appropriate answer to the question. sure he could say he was busy but what if you wanted to invite him somewhere during the weekend?

he had to seem available but not too available where you’d think he was a jobless bum. you were a couple of minutes away from your apartment where you lived when toji finally replied.

“not much.” he replied trying to maintain a level of nonchalance in his tone. “just work and then takin' my kid to get his flu shot."

toji watched your eyes light up at the mention of his son megumi and for some odd reason it made his heart flutter more than it should've. another awkward silence passed between you both until you felt confident enough to break it.

"so..uh are you free on sunday?" you asked, rumbling around your bags for your keys to get into the apartment and it was also so you could mask the potential disappointment on your face if he declined. it was so embarrassing how he made you feel so giddy inside.

“why?” he smirked knowingly, deepening the scar on his lips even more. “you tryna ask me out or somethin’?” was that too forward? toji does not know where this sudden boost in confidence came from but he rides the waves of it, not wanting to lose the momentum in the moment.

the flustered look on your face says it all, as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. “well…uh…yes?” you replied with a sheepishness evident in your tone, playing with the straps of your bag to avoid his gaze.

now it’s toji’s turn to reply and hopefully he prays that he doesn’t fuck this up. “i’d love t—” a vibration from his pocket interrupts the moment. he let’s the phone ring out, not bothered by shiu’s incoming meltdown for when he did eventually pick up the phone.

he wasn’t expecting that.

“ignore that…but um yeah i’d love to go out with you.” he rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing how to proceed. usually in his romantic conquests toji was usually the pursuer not the pursued so this shift in dynamic was something new entirely for him.

however he wasn't complaining, for a beautiful woman like you, he would walk the ends if the earth for you if asked. he knows it sounds pathetic but he didn't care, for right now he was the happiest man alive.

toji may have been a novice, an apprentice in love as they say but maybe that inexperience was worth it because after a bunch of bad dates he finally found you.