#if he closed at his job and at the end of the night he would take some home and would evetually aftet so many days be SICK of pizza
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our last summer | psh
summary: would it be enough if i could never give you peace?
notes: inspired by peace and august by taylor swift and our last summer by ABBA <3 love u forever, my darling sunghoon.
warnings: angst, fluff, nsfw: oral (m + f receiving), unprotected sex, dry humoring, dirty talk, fingering. :)
ahh this was only supposed to be a few thousand words but here we are at 19.4K ...
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*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･
The end of summer is when you start to feel it.
The hot sun isn’t as inviting as it once was, with the promise of a limitless summer ahead of you before returning to university in the fall. Now, the sunny days feel bleak and lifeless despite the leftover flowers that have bloomed since spring.
Sunghoon sleeps peacefully with his chest pressed against your mattress, his shirt long discarded from the night before as the warm sun peeks from the curtain shielding your windows. His lips form a pout with the way his cheek is pressed against the pillow as short warm breaths poke at your skin.
It feels peaceful like this. You turn to face him and put your fingertips on his back to feel the warmth radiating from his body. The overhead ceiling fan blows cool air against his skin and the juxtaposition feels electric. Your hand moves up and down his body, memorizing every dip and pattern for memory’s keepsake.
In the quiet of his slumber is when you write your name in invisible ink on the expanse of his skin.
Your hand moves slowly to write in cursive. Sunghoon squirms beneath your touch, his body reacting to the way your fingers move along his muscular back. You don’t notice when he opens his eyes and watches your quiet behavior, but you hear how his breathing has changed and meet his gaze.
“Good morning,” you say to him without lifting your fingers.
“Morning,” he croaks, voice deep and raspy from a good night’s sleep.
“Did you sleep well?”
He nods. “Mhm. You put me to sleep, but it seems like I didn’t do a good job if you’re awake before me.”
“Two times means you did an incredible job, Hoon.”
Sunghoon grins at you and maneuvers his body on top of yours, bringing his nose to touch yours as he smiles. “Wanna make it a third?”
Despite two months of bedroom trysts, his stare still makes you shy.
“But I’m getting hungry,” you deflect, breaking eye contact in an attempt to collect yourself. Sunghoon laughs.
“So am I, and I know what I want for breakfast.”
You let him push his head to your bare cunt and watch as he moves the blankets out of the way. It feels like it’s getting warmer in the room but it very well could be because your body ignites into flames when Sunghoon’s hands pry your legs apart to present yourself to him.
He looks at you like it’s the first time all over again, as if it were that night in June when the two of you found yourselves at the same bonfire party to celebrate the start of the summer season. Everyone who left for university had come home and drank underneath the twinkling stars that painted the night sky in a pattern you’d seen a thousand times.
Sunghoon could only remember your face when he closed his eyes and guessed correctly that you were the person who sat next to him in your shared literature class before graduating, one he never seemed to pay any attention to. You’d grown out of your introverted shell, unlike when you were back in high school, and asked him what he’d been up to since he left. He told you as if the two of you were friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. You knew his stories but you listened with careful intent because his glossy eyes and his unwavering attention made you feel important.
You aren’t sure how the two of you ended up as connected as you are. You’d argue Sunghoon knows your body better than you do and that the past couple of months, littered with secret kisses and his hands around your waist, has been the best summer of your life.
Even with Sunghoon’s fingers prying your pussy open and with his tongue inside of you, the two weeks you have before returning to university is the only thing you can think about.
Your thoughts drift in and out between focusing on the pleasure he’s giving you coupled with what will happen when the two of you are forced to participate in everyday student life, away from your hometown to face responsibilities. It’ll be your last year, too, and what of the moment when the two of you cross your tassels over your graduation cap?
Sunghoon’s fingers take your mind off of that thought for a moment. His fingers slide up and down your wet slit and you push his hair from his forehead to see his eyes stare at the mess like he’s never seen you like this before.
“Have you finished packing?” he asks before bending down to kiss the soft skin of your inner thigh. “My parents keep texting me to do it.”
“Halfway done,” you say breathlessly.
“Me too.” Sunghoon’s hair makes your body lurch forward but he uses his strong arms to hold you in place. “Gonna miss summer break when we go back.”
You don’t say anything. It’s too much for you to think about, especially when the man between your legs is the most handsome and angelic looking boy you have ever seen in your life. Sunghoon gets so lost in your pleasure that he periodically licks his lips at the sight of your pussy exposed to him, paying attention to nothing but your clit that he loves to call pretty.
“Your pussy gets so wet every time,” he says as his finger flicks your clit back and forth before his mouth presses a chaste kiss on the bud. “It’s so sexy.”
“You know how to use your mouth well,” you praise. Sunghoon grins at your words and hums when your fingers scratch his head as his tongue dives back into your core.
He’s slow with it, unlike the night prior when he had asked to come over with a tent already visible in his pants. Sunghoon takes his time dragging his tongue all over you as if he’s trying to commit the way you taste to memory. His tongue works expertly to reach where your own fingers can’t and you can hear him chuckle from below you when your back arches from a particular sensation.
Sunghoon’s hands support you, sliding from your thighs to grip your hips as you push your pussy into his face. You feel him hum against you as you press yourself into him and if there’s one thing you can infer from your bedroom holidays, it’s that your pleasure brings Sunghoon his.
You come undone a few minutes later as he coaxes you through it, gently licking you clean until your release has been swallowed by him. Sunghoon peppers small kisses along your thighs as a silent praise for a job well done for letting him take you the way he wants, his hands smoothing over your body to grip your breasts before moving his way on top of you.
The kiss is slow like two lovers on borrowed time. Sunghoon’s body slips between your legs as your hands come to cup his jawline with your own hands, pushing your lips against his swollen ones. He kisses you like time does not exist and the world outside remains still despite hearing the sounds of birds chirping from just outside of your window.
Sunghoon gasps into the kiss when your hips meet his, forcing his cock to situate itself between your bodies. He’s hard from a mixture of tasting you in his mouth and humping the bed when he heard your breaths become shallow before eventually releasing all you had to offer. You push yourself against him until you elicit a deep moan from the back of his throat.
“Thought you were hungry,” he whispers against your ear, kissing the skin below it as his hips move until his cock is sliding between your folds.
“Breakfast can wait.” Your hands smooth themselves over his toned body and arms, squeezing his biceps as he raises his chest to see where you two meet.
“Is my pretty girl worked up?” Sunghoon teases with a breathy tone. His hardness matches your arousal and the erotic sound of wetness splashing has him pushing the tip of his cock against your clit.
“Just a little bit,” you say coyly. “I wanna feel you.”
Sunghoon sinks himself into you without a second thought.
“I want to feel you too.”
*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ
You avoid talking to Sunghoon about the upcoming fall semester. You’re not sure if he can tell that your mind has been preoccupied with the future because he seems so content in the present, spending his free time with you when he isn’t with his other friends and family.
It’s almost unfair how handsome he looks when the sun kisses his skin. Its golden hues emphasize his sharp jaw and brown eyes that resemble comfort underneath the warm light.
The way he looks reminds you of when you’d use to see him around school before moving away to college. Sunghoon was always revered by his classmates for his astonishingly good looks with his hair always falling into place like dominoes.
He was a household name for more reasons than one. Sunghoon’s figure skating career was at an all time high during his third year of high school, often having missed classes for competitions. He was all the girls could talk about in between classes and it was like the community around you built an invisible shrine to illustrate how worthy everyone thought him to be.
You were never friends with him as his popularity was a bit too out of reach for you, back when everybody cared about the superficial. But Sunghoon lived towards the end of the block where you’d see him leave for practice or come home late through your bedroom window since you were a kid. Your classmates were right to praise him for his tenacity and resilience, although you had a sneaking suspicion that they did so because he was incredibly good looking with rumors of having a very successful figure skating career in a few year’s time.
You didn’t see it that way. The two of you were not friendly by any means, but you could see the weight of the world on his shoulders when he’d come home after a long day at the ice rink. You could hear fragments of conversations, namely how hard it was to balance schoolwork, college applications, and a career he wasn’t sure he was ready to commit to.
University was right around the corner and he itched to experience life that didn’t surround figure skating. It always felt like silent, one-sided support on your end as you’d hear Sunghoon talk to his parents on his way inside of the house. It felt like you were getting to know the person he was when he wasn’t smiling for the camera or for people who liked him for the attention. Still, you’re sure Sunghoon had no idea who you were until just before the summer of your last year of college.
The news that he would retire from professional skating rocked the community but people were supportive of his decision to pursue a degree. He left the small town behind to pursue a life in Seoul, not for his ice skating career, but to get a taste of what his life could look like.
Then, he met you.
You’re still somewhat astonished that he knew who you were, given that you hadn’t spoken much in the years you lived in his neighborhood. Sunghoon made an effort to wave at you in passing and talk to you, going so far as to introduce you to his friends when he had spotted you sitting by yourself in the cafeteria. Heeseung, Jay, and Jake were smitten by your humble nature and were too eager to listen to stories about their best friend in a time where they did not know him. Thinking about that period of your life makes your stomach turn.
Sunghoon kisses your cheek when you both exit your house. His car is parked out front and he opens the door for you before getting inside himself. The weekend is unpromising, as most are, and you find yourself wondering what Sunghoon has planned for the day.
“I see the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours,” Sunghoon comments as he drives out of your street. He puts his hand on your thigh and caresses you with his thumb. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yes,” you lie. “I think I’m still waking up.”
Sunghoon laughs. “Even after I’ve been inside of you?” He watches you blush from the corner of his eye, squeezing your thigh when he hears you stutter over your words.
“Yes,” you mumble. “Even after all of that.”
“Good think I’m planning on getting coffee,” he tells you, diverting his attention back to the road. “I could use a pick me up.”
Sunghoon pays for your beverages and encourages you to pick out a pastry despite having had a small breakfast at his place. He tells you to stand away from the crowd gathering around the hand off station. Watching him with his back turned to you, patiently waiting for his order, feels extremely familiar because of how frequent Sunghoon has taken you out this summer. You don’t think you’ve ever spent time with him like this before the two of you left to go back home for the break.
“For you,” Sunghoon says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You drink the ice cold liquid and feel the unnerving thoughts wash out of you with the first sip, willing yourself to be present.
“Thanks, Hoon. Got anything else planned for today?”
He bites into a croissant. “The rink I used to skate at has a half price day today. I was thinking we could spend the next hour or two there.”
“Why, so you could show off in front of me?” Sunghoon knocks your knee with his when he sees your lip quirk upwards.
“I know you’re curious.” You can’t fault him there.
“Mm, that I am. I can’t say I’m at your level but I can stand on my own two feet without needing to hold onto the rail.”
“I’m rusty,” he says. “I haven’t been on the ice in forever.”
“I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”
“Besides,” Sunghoon says after taking another bite, “I want to see you stumble around like a penguin.”
“I told you, I’m decent,” you huff. “I used to go to the rink with my cousin when we were kids and I used to see you warming up.”
“Oh, you did?”
“Only sometimes. We usually went on the weekends in the morning to avoid the crowd.”
Sunghoon nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right. In the first few years of training, I’d have to be at the rink when people were waking up. I wish I could’ve seen you there.”
“It’s okay,” you tell him. “We weren’t really friends until this year.”
“Still, it would’ve been nice to have seen you.”
Sunghoon’s words make your heart lurch. You can’t stop yourself from thinking about it.
“We didn’t run in the same circles back in high school, did we?” you ask him to quell his dampened expression, knocking Sunghoon’s knee like he did with you. “You were definitely more popular between us two.”
“Popular is definitely a word,” he says, biting the end of his straw. “I think people liked that I was on national TV. I couldn’t go a day without people saying something about it.”
“You worked hard to get there. I understand why you were the talk of the town.”
He shrugs. “I guess so. It was hard to balance school and my career. I felt like a walking zombie every time I’d show up to class.”
“From where I stood, I can definitely say that look worked for you.”
Sunghoon raised his eyebrow at you. “Oh? And were you looking?”
You roll your eyes. “These are things I’ve heard other people say.”
“Right, right,” he says with a mischievous grin like he doesn’t believe you.
“Whatever,” you mumble, praying that your cheeks would cool down. “God, I don’t think I went an hour without hearing someone talk about you.”
“Yeah. I remember a bunch of people I didn’t know coming up to me like we’d been friends since birth.”
“That had to feel weird.”
“It was weird. Definitely weird. I’d eat lunch and some kid would ask me how practice was going.”
“Then what?” you ask.
“I’d tell them my practice schedule and say I’m hoping for good scores for my next competition.”
“You definitely could’ve been an idol in another life,” you tease. “You were so good at giving vague answers that satisfied people.”
Sunghoon shrugs. “Nah, not for me. You know, I don’t think I had any real friends, though. Just people who thought my career path was cool.”
It hurts to hear it when you recall the nights seeing Sunghoon come home past his bedtime and then in class the next morning. He always looked just shy of collapsing, but that attitude was what the girls were into back then. For you, however, it seemed almost worrisome.
“I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “I don’t know if you remember, but sometimes I’d hang out on my balcony and watch the neighborhood. Most nights I saw you come home late from practice and I always wondered how you did all of it without breaking a sweat. Even when we had literature together, I wished we were close enough so that I could’ve asked you if you were okay without sounding like a deranged fangirl.”
You try not to wince with embarrassment at your long confession. Sunghoon looks at you with an expression you can’t read, blinking at you as if he’s thinking about what to say next. He remains silent.
“Well, I think we should head over.” You abruptly stand and throw your empty pastry bag into the trash can next to you and try to keep a loose grip on your cup despite your chest caving. “I want to be impressed by your fancy moves.”
“I can do that,” he tells you, coming out of his daze when he registers that you’ve moved spots. You push the uneasy feeling out of your mind, pretending you didn’t make things awkward between the two of you.
“If you fall in your face, I’ll deduct a point.”
Sunghoon laughs. “I’ll be sure not to fall. I think my time training has prepared me for this.”
You don’t say another word as Sunghoon throws his trash away. You want to hang your head in shame and ask Sunghoon to drive you home so that you can wallow in your misery, alone in your bedroom. But he jogs ahead of you to open the door, allowing you to step out before him. You thank him with a meek voice and swallow when you notice your throat has run dry.
When you approach the passenger side of his car, Sunghoon opens the door for you. You’re about to step inside when he pulls you into him. You feel his other hand on your waist when he pushes his lips against your own.
His mouth tastes like coffee and the cold sensation of the ice from the drink makes your body shiver. Sunghoon tilts his head and angles himself to push harder against you, squeezing your body with his fingertips before pulling away to see the dazed look in your eyes. Sunghoon chuckles when you look at him, using his thumb to wipe the spit that has collected on your bottom lip.
“I always saw you on your balcony,” Sunghoon says before leaning in to steal another kiss. He opens his eyes only after he’s pulled away once again, and you see the way he struggles to keep himself composed. “I would never think you’re a deranged fangirl, by the way.”
You struggle to find the words to speak. He grins at you like he’s proud to have caught you off guard, opening the door wider while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before encouraging you inside the vehicle. He closes the door and you sit with your mouth slightly ajar when he turns on the engine.
Sunghoon breathes a laugh and places his hand on your thigh before heading to the ice rink, leaving you astounded and wondering if you were dreaming.
*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ
It’s the last Wednesday before the two of you go back to university.
You’re both arriving separately with your parents and belongings in tow, respectively. It’s been convenient that your family has been on a summer vacation of their own, leaving just after you and Sunghoon had started fooling around, and arriving within two days to drive with you back to school. His parents have been running all over Korea to support his younger sister’s traveling performances in dance. He’s attended a few of her competitions around the country a few times, and even invited you to see one or them with him when she was back in town.
Otherwise, the two of you spend every waking moment together. The only time you’d spend apart is when he’d leave to watch his sister dance or when you had your shifts at a family-friend’s dumpling shop. Even when you’d see a few friends from back home, it seemed to end with Sunghoon in your bed more often than not.
Dusk has settled on the tail end and the sun is almost disappearing. A wave of anxiety washes over you when Sunghoon suggests that you stay at his house longer after having spent the day using his pool. You brought a change of clothes and Sunghoon offered the shower to you. When you say yes, he tells you to go first.
This isn’t your first time using his bathroom by any means, but it’s your first time being completely naked without the pretext of having sex. Suddenly, you smell like Sunghoon because of his shampoo and body wash. You smell of sandalwood and cinnamon, the kind that reminds you of when your face is pressed close to his.
The intensity of your feelings becomes apparent when you dry your hair to the best of your ability with the towel he gave you. You put your clothes on and wring out any water from your bathing suit before looking at yourself in the mirror.
You’ve never spent time in his home like this. You know his bedroom well enough, but it’s usually your house that the two of you hang out in. Sunghoon is the one who comes over, unannounced or not, and he’s the one who brings a change of clothes over just in case the two of you grow tired from talking or otherwise.
It feels strangely comfortable to be alone in his bedroom’s bathroom unsupervised. But it’s a feeling you wish would go away because neither you nor Sunghoon have talked about what will happen when you return to university. Instead, you suck in a breath and force yourself outside.
“Took you long enough,” Sunghoon teases when you emerge from his room and into the kitchen. He has a cherry popsicle in his hand to combat the hot weather that has made his mouth look red.
“You told me to take my time, so that’s what I did,” you retort as you walk closer. You stand before him and he looks at you with a mischievous grin before your eyes dart to the popsicle in his hand.
“You want one?” he asks.
“Yes, please.”
“Open wide.”
You barely register his command when he gently pushes the cool popsicle to your lips, beckoning you to open your mouth. The ice melts against you when it enters inside and your mouth closes against the popsicle when you feel the melted juices begin to run down your chin.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispers lowly, eyes focused on your mouth and the way your cheeks hollow. “Tastes good, yeah?”
“Mhm,” you mutter with it in your mouth.
Sunghoon pulls the stick from you and continues looking at your red lips and tongue like he’s mesmerized. He looks at you after you’ve bitten your bottom lip and puts the stick in your hand.
“I’m going to shower,” he says. “You can have the rest.”
Sunghoon walks away without so much as another word, leaving you equally breathless and turned on. Did Sunghoon mean to leave you like this? He loves to tease you and will always finish his remarks with a kiss to your lips or forehead. But this time, he left without that familiar kiss and it looked like Sunghoon was rushing to the bathroom.
With a slight boost in your ego, you put the popsicle back into your mouth and suck on it until all that remains is the stick and the taste of wood.
Sunghoon isn’t in the shower for long. You don’t know what washes over you when you enter his bedroom after hearing the water turn off. When he exits his bathroom, his hair is still damp and his skin glistens from the water. His towel hangs low on his hips and you can see every ridge, curve, and divet on his body. It makes your mouth water and you’re stunned when he meets your eyes.
“It’s a good flavor, right?” Sunghoon asks after a moment of quiet.
“What?”
“The popsicle,” he says with a tick in his voice. “It was good, wasn’t it?” You look at him when he takes a step forward.
“The best,��� you barely manage to say.
You swallow when his steps reach just an inch from where you are. Sunghoon looks at you through his eyelashes and waits for you to say something with the side of his face quirks in amusement. His dimple peeks out and the canines of his teeth that you’ve become fully obsessed with are on full display.
Sunghoon leans forward until his lips barely touch yours, eyes flickering down to stare at your mouth. That sensation has you gasping against him, the warm air making him chuckle just enough for him to poke his tongue out and gently lick over your bottom lip.
“Mm,” Sunghoon hums. “You taste like cherry.”
He pulls you by your waist and pushes you flush against his body. His strong arms keep you caged into him while your own flail at the sudden movement. You settle by putting your palms against his shoulders and holding on like you’re afraid you’ll fall if you don’t find your balance. Sunghoon pulls you closer to his mouth and makes you stand on your toes just to keep up with him as his mouth invades your personal space.
The kiss is warm and audible. His tongue pushes against yours and his teeth are nearly knocking into yours as you gain your momentum and recover from the shock of his actions. You grow wetter when you realize Sunghoon’s still damp from his shower, the droplets of water from his hair falling onto your arms like they’re meant to keep you aware of what’s happening.
Without detaching himself from you, Sunghoon sits on the bed with his towel still on and pulls your body so that you’re sitting on his lap. His arms are securely behind you and your back arches when he caresses your spine.
You suck on his tongue as he kneads the flesh of your ass, gently encouraging you to rock yourself on his body. The two of you moan into each other’s mouths breathlessly when you part for a few seconds of fresh air. Your hands grab his neck as you hold him in place like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you don’t hold onto him tight enough.
He grows hard underneath you in record speed as you keep rising from his lap to kiss him deeper, followed by pushing yourself onto him to relieve friction. Sunghoon grunts against you and slaps your left ass cheek in retaliation when you put more pressure on his throbbing cock.
It’s then when you open your eyes and pull back. Sunghoon keeps his eyes closed momentarily, too lost in the high of his euphoria until he realizes your mouth isn’t on his anymore. His eyelashes make him look celestial, the mole on his cheek too tempting for you not to kiss. But you refrain, holding yourself steady as you try to keep your composure.
“It’s late,” you whisper.
“And?” he asks, catching his breath.
“We have to finish packing,” you reason, although you don’t think you believe in yourself when you say it.
“You have all weekend,” he pleads. Sunghoon holds you with one arm and brushes your hair from your face with his free hand. “What’s going on in that head of yours, baby?”
You bite your lip as he stares at you and it’s jarring to see his careful eyes look at you while he remains exceptionally hard beneath you. Sunghoon squeezes his hand on your waist as gentle encouragement and you watch him tilt his head like he’s listening.
“I…,” you falter. Sunghoon’s stare is too intense. You look beside him and focus on the blankets that cover his mattress. “We go back to school soon, Hoon. I guess I’m just nervous about what’s gonna happen.”
“What do you mean by that?”
You bite your lip. “Dunno. I think I’m just nervous for the future. One last year and everything is uncertain.”
Sunghoon can sense that you’re not telling him the whole truth but he doesn’t pry you to say anything else. He has his own fears about his future as well, and the relationship he’s built with you over the summer has done wonders to quell his worries. But that too is coming to an end. His half-packed belongings sit in another room for him to worry about at a later time.
You feel his lips make contact with your own, this time kissing you with less fervor than before. The kiss feels like a silent reassurance that everything will be okay. Sunghoon lingers for a few seconds before pulling back, just to push himself forward to press more kisses onto your lips until you’ve melted against him.
“I just want you to be okay,” Sunghoon mumbles between kisses.
“It’s late,” you say again, hands bracing his chest.
“You could always stay here for the night,” he says.
“I wouldn’t want to bother you.” Sunghoon places both of his hands on your waist and gives you a squeeze, looking into your eyes.
“I want you to stay,” he tells you. “Please stay the night.”
You deliberate for a moment only to nod and relent. Sunghoon grins, pressing forward to kiss you again. He tastes so fresh after his shower, lips supple and plump as the heat from the water still radiates from his skin. You try not to think about his sculpted chest and toned arms but that does nothing for you when you feel Sunghoon’s lips on your neck.
He chuckles when he hears you gasp. It drives him to put small kisses all over the expanse of your neck, alternating between kissing you and leaving small kitten licks across your skin. The wetness of his saliva makes your arousal pool in your panties and his hair, still wet from his shower, caresses your skin too.
Sunghoon grunts against your jawline when you push your body against his, feeling his hard outline against your core. Sunghoon bucks his hips when he feels you and curses when you push him off of your neck to sink to your knees.
“Fuck, baby,” he says. Sunghoon watches as you undo the towel and push the fabric aside until his cock becomes accessible to you, spreading his legs so you can situate yourself between them.
The gasp Sunghoon emits when you lick him from his balls to his tip is enchanting. He looks down at you like it’s the first time he’s seeing you be like this for him, especially when you steady your hands on his thighs and kiss the soft skin there.
You envelop the tip in your mouth and let your tongue dance on the slit a few times before swirling your wet muscle around him. Sunghoon lets out a low groan when your nails caress his thighs too, cock twitching in your mouth and prompting you to take another inch.
He’s rock hard in record time. Sunghoon doesn’t care about that right now, not when you’ve decided to push your head down and engulf half of him with your tongue running over his veins and his sensitive points.
“You’re so good at this,” he praises. Sunghoon’s palms lay flat on the mattress as his eyes lazily see you through his pleasured expression. “Can you make it messy for me? I wanna see how messy you can be.”
You look up at Sunghoon, who has his bottom lip between his teeth. He looks like an Adonis type with his perfect body and hair falling over his eyes. You do as he says, pulling yourself off of him to gather saliva before letting your spit fall on his cock. He moans when he feels it dripping down him and at the sight of it falling from your mouth. Sunghoon is pleased when you push your head down until he feels the back of your throat, even more so when he feels spit gathering at the base and sliding down to his balls.
You pull yourself off of him just to repeat the process over and over again until Sunghoon is a loud, unholy mess above you. He nearly orgasms when he feels your hands massage his balls but tries to prolong his pleasure.
“You’re so nasty,” he whispers like he’s in disbelief. The sounds of your throat gagging around his cock turn him on and he grips the bed sheets below when you look up at him with him inside your mouth. Your head moves in quick succession to amplify the noise, letting yourself become lost in the feeling of pleasuring Sunghoon.
“Ah, fuck,” he cursed when your tongue works his underside. “I’m gonna cum.”
It doesn’t take him long to finish soon after that. He gives you enough warning time to pull your head away but stares down at you with an open jaw when you grip his base and keep his cock situated in your mouth as he comes.
He watches you close your eyes the moment his come seeps into your tongue and the way you hum around him as you clean him up. Sunghoon’s hips buckle and he does his best to keep his body upright to watch you lick his orgasm. Your mouth constructs around his cock and you continue to glide your tongue over him until there’s no evidence of his come left.
“You’re perfect.” Sunghoon praises you as he helps you stand from your spot on the floor, turning you around to pull your shorts and panties off while you take off your top and fling it haphazardly.
Sunghoon spreads your ass in front of him, staring at your body in wonder. Your wetness becomes apparent to him when the light glistens against it and you hear him curse, prompting you to look back at him. You feel Sunghoon gather your arousal on his hand before grabbing cock and pleasuring himself with all you have to offer him. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.
“I’ll eat you out in a second,” he swears to you as he meets your eye. “Please let me put it in for a little bit. I need to feel your pussy around me.”
You maneuver to sit back on his lap as he holds you in place with one arm, gripping his still-hardened cock to align with your entrance with his other. The tip grazes your slit, pulling a moan out of you. His warmth feels incredible, almost as if a fire has been lit inside of you with his cock acting as the match. The collective gasp is the only sound heard in the silence of his room. You sink on his cock slowly as you adjust to his size, watching the way his eyebrows furrow like he’s concentrating on the pleasure you bring him..
You feel whole and complete when you’re like this. Sunghoon’s quietness tells you he’s savoring the feeling too. His breathing is warm as it hits your chest and you look beneath you to see the ends of his hair tickling your breasts. Sunghoon is dry for the most part, save for his still-damp hair, but he looks like an angelic creature who fell from Heaven when you fully seat yourself on his cock.
Sunghoon moves your body up and down slowly. His hands never stray from your soft skin as your ass meets his thighs. The sensation is incredibly wet and warm, the shock of pleasure shooting from your spine all the way to your toes. He moves you in a quicker pace gradually to build the momentum until he breathes quiet gasps when the flesh of your ass smacks against his skin.
Your own wanton moans come unexpectedly as he pushes himself deeper into you. Sunghoon has never been this sensual with you either. He’s more vocal than he is now, just shy from an animalistic howl with witty remarks when you’re either too bashful to look him in the eye as he fucks you or when you talk back to him when you know you shouldn’t. This feels almost too raw and natural. It feels like he’s trying to tell you something but you’re too in your head to know what he’s trying to say.
By the time you’re bouncing on him with your hands placed on his chest to keep yourself balanced, you’re wondering how he’s strong enough to support himself on his palms while you ride him like it’s all you know. Sunghoon nods at you, drunk on the euphoria with every plunge you take. He hisses when you clench around him and pulls you off of his body to pin you underneath him, lips pressed against yours in a heated kiss.
“Don’t wanna cum yet,” he mutters against your lips before dragging them down to your neck. “I promised to eat you out, didn’t I?”
He doesn’t give you the chance to respond. Sunghoon attaches his mouth to your right nipple and licks over your bud until he’s satisfied with how wet it’s become before moving to the neglected one, this time sucking with his tongue flicking over it until your hips push against him.
Sunghoon lets go and with his hands massaging your chest, he maneuvers down to press a little kiss to your slit. He’s pleased when your body reacts accordingly, arching to push your core towards his face. His hands pinch your nipples before sliding them down your body to grip your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth when he pushes his tongue inside of you.
Your hands fly to grip his hair from the sudden and welcomed intrusion. Sunghoon’s tongue darts in and out of you while his hands massage you from behind. The angle has your chest pushed towards the ceiling as high as you’ll go with your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His wet tongue feels smooth and divine as he brings it to glide over your wet folds, collecting your arousal and drinking it like it’s nectar from the gods.
His nose bumps your clit and you push your pussy into his face when he surges forward. Sunghoon’s growls into your body make your toes curl against his back. Your mouth hangs open as moan after moan falls from your lips and it seems as though your body knows no self control when it comes to the boy below you.
“I love your mouth,” you confess with the tug of his hair at the same time an overwhelming, emotional sensation washes over. You don’t say what you mean, but it’s enough for now.
“I love the sounds you make,” Sunghoon says as he parts from your core. He flattens his tongue to lick up your slit in rapid succession, watching your arousal and his spit drag from your pussy to his tongue.
“You sound like a fucking porn star when I eat you out.”
“You’re that good,” is all you manage to say when he flicks your clit with his tongue. “I love your mouth but I want your cock.”
“Princess gets whatever she wants.”
Sunghoon pushes himself until he’s hovering over you. He bends down to suck on your nipples before bringing his mouth to your own, kisses you with his hands braced beside you on the mattress. Sunghoon uses his hands to position you how he likes before spreading his own legs to guide his cock into your entrance, allowing himself to push the tip inside of you.
He inches inside of you little by little, watching the micro expressions on your face when you close your eyes to focus on the pleasure. You feel his fingers brushing the hair from your forehead as he coos and whispers sweet praises about how well you’re taking his cock and how good you feel around him.
When Sunghoon is fully sheathed inside of you, he pulls your arms around his shoulders and thrusts inside of you so deeply that you’re sure he’s reached your guts. He can feel your tits against his chest as he pushes his hips forward. The moans he hears from you sound like music to his ears and motivate him to thrust into you deeper to continue pulling those delicious sounds out of you.
It feels so good and so deep that it brings tears to the corners of your eyes. Your heart swells when you think about how mind blowing his cock is making you feel and you start to wonder if this is the last time you’ll ever be able to feel Sunghoon like this. The lone tear strays and falls from the corner or your eye until you produce a few more droplets when Sunghoon lifts his body upwards to push himself down onto you.
You let out a deep, melodic moan that has Sunghoon’s hips stuttering. He looks up from where his head is placed on your neck to see your reddening eyes and furrows his brows quizzically, preparing himself to stop until you shake your head.
The two of you have never been as silent as you are now. Instead, you let the wet smacks and breathless moans do the speaking for you. Sunghoon leans down to kiss your tear-stained cheeks, and it’s this sheer intimate act that makes you lose yourself around him.
He slows his pace when he feels you coming undone around him, watching as your chest rises and as it deflates as you come down from your high. It washes over you like an ocean wave, so intensely before it quells around you. Sunghoon finds himself in a similar state until he releases inside of you with a low grunt and his lips on your very own.
The two of you remain still as you catch your breaths. Sunghoon pulls out slowly and promises to come back with a warm cloth. He comes back once he’s cleaned himself up and gently swipes the cloth over your body to clean any remnants of cum from between your legs before tossing it in his hamper and handing your discarded clothes back to you.
Sunghoon comes back to bed with boxers and a pair of plaid pajama pants when you blink out of tiredness. He coos at your innocence in this moment before bending down to kiss you while he climbs into bed. Sunghoon turns off the lamp that lights his room and watches as everything falls dark, the light from outside of his window being the only light illuminating over your face.
He pulls you into him and kisses you slowly. When he hears you yawn, Sunghoon kisses both of your eyelids and promises for the last time that he wants you to stay over until the morning.
“We’ll be okay, right?”
Sunghoon stills at your question. You sound too far gone to realize what you’re saying as you nuzzle against his body. When he looks down at you, all he sees is your eyelashes fluttering as you close your eyes and the way your lips form a small pout as you attempt to fall asleep. He doesn’t say anything, choosing to squeeze your body closer to him.
With one final kiss, he tucks his chin on the top of your head and his fingers caress over your back until the promise of sleep comes before you.
*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･
The first week back at university is hectic.
Your parents said goodbye as your other roommates, Yuna and Ryujin, arrived at your shared apartment. It was nice to see them again after months of only being able to text them because of the distance, and having them with you as your parents left was an added bonus to your weekend.
You and Sunghoon don’t text much during this time. You ask him if he’s settled in yet, to which he sends a photo of his friends Jay and Jake wrestling in their living room. You react by laughing at the image and that’s the last you hear from him for a while. You don’t expect to hear from him, as you also haven’t been reaching out that much either, due to moving your belongings into your shared apartment and getting ready for the first week of the semester.
It’s the night before classes begin when Yuna sits down next to you as you watch anime on the shared TV, stealing the pint of cream out of your hands.
“I can’t believe you were fucking Park Sunghoon over the summer.” You barely react to her taking the ice cream out of your hands and let her have it, grinning in amusement.
“Stealing my food out of my hands is something I oddly missed in the three months I haven’t seen you.”
“Don’t change the subject,” she says in a way that makes you think she’s trying to be intimidating. The spoon in her mouth isn’t helping her case. “You and Park Sunghoon. You know, the Sunghoon who you had a major crush on in high school but didn’t know you existed until earlier this year?”
“Okay, you really didn’t have to do all of that.”
“Uh, yes I did.” Yuna shoves another spoonful in her mouth. “I simultaneously want to hear everything about it and nothing at all.” You laugh and steal the ice cream back from her.
“I couldn’t tell you how it happened, honestly. We didn’t start seeing each other until we both settled back home. I kind of missed being in a place where I know it could’ve been just us two.”
“What about your parents?”
“Gone on a trip for the latter half of summer,” you tell her. “Sunghoon’s parents were traveling with his sister across Korea for dance competitions. It was the perfect set up, if you think about it.”
“God, he’s hot, isn’t he?” she coaxes. “I could totally see he had a thing for you the night you two reconnected. Everyone kept trying to get his attention off of you but he just ignored people who weren’t you.”
“Oh, that’s true.”
“Totally is,” Yuna says with a nod. “I bet it I asked Jake if Sunghoon’s whipped for you, he’d say yes.” You put ice cream in your mouth to suppress a grin.
“Don’t put delusions in my head.” You look at Yuna. “But do you really think so?”
“The way you were describing your summer fling with Sunghoon made it sound like you guys were dating, Y/N. I know you don’t bullshit your way into delusions like the rest of us either.”
“He really was a perfect gentleman,” you tell her. “My parents came home when he dropped me off after we hung out and Sunghoon stayed over for dinner until I had to finish packing. It was weirdly domestic.”
“That’s your boyfriend, is all I’m saying.”
You smack her arm. “Quit it.”
“Have you guys been texting since you got back?”
“Not really, but I didn’t think we would be. It’s the first week back and we’re both super busy, you know? I’m sure he’s catching up with his friends and spending time with them since he’s been away all summer. Hoon views my Instagram stories and that’s enough for right now.”
“I don’t know whether you’re trying to convince yourself you’re okay or if you’re actually fine with it.”
“I’m fine, honest,” you say truthfully. “I mean, I’m busy getting back into the groove of university and entertaining you and Ryujin since your favorite pastime seems to be bothering me.” Yuna rests her head on your shoulders and takes the pint of ice cream back to her.
“Oh yeah, I definitely missed you.”
You put your head on top of hers. “I missed you too, Yuna. But seriously, I’m okay.”
“Did you guys talk about it at all?”
You keep quiet for a moment. “Not really. I was anxious about it the last few weeks of summer but there never seemed to be a right time to talk. We’ve been friendly since our parents came back home so we obviously had to stop fooling around.”
“Still, though. Are you guys like…dating?”
Yuna doesn’t see your eyes fall.
“No, we’re not dating.”
“Hm,” she ponders. “Well he should wife you up soon or else I’ll do it.”
“We’re already locked in,” you tease her with the hope that this sinking feeling vanishes.
“Ryujin’s our third,” Yuna says matter-of-factly. “Or, she will be whenever she comes back with dinner.”
“I missed you guys, I really did. Being back at home was nice and all but I miss going out with you two and staying in all weekend to watch marathons of stupid reality shows that don’t make sense.”
“We missed you too,” Yuna agrees. “I’m glad we all decided to be roommates again. Kicking out that bitch from the fall semester and having you as the replacement was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Don’t get all sappy on me now,” you tease.
Yuna parts from you to put the ice cream away after the two of you are done with it. She comes back and sits beside you, intently watching the anime in front of her when you pull your phone out. The last message is still that photo and Jay and Jake from a few days ago when you decide to text him.
you: is it bad that i'm still nervous about the first day of school even though it’s my last year of university
you: asking for a friend 🤨
You shut your phone off to prevent yourself from waiting for his answer. You distract yourself with the show in front of you as minutes goes by before checking again, only to see he hasn’t texted back. The disappointment settles within you, even though the rational part of you knows he’s probably not ignoring you.
Ryujin comes back twenty minutes later with dinner she’s picked up on her way back from running errands. The three of you sit around the coffee table and eat wordlessly in front of the TV from a tiring day and it doesn’t feel awkward or forced.
You talk about your respective summers over the sound of the TV, only briefly pausing to watch action sequences that have distracted the conversation until it falls back into place. You tell Ryujin what you told Yuna about your time with Sunghoon and she nearly swoons when you tell her about your summer.
When the two of them have focused back on the TV, you see Sunghoon text you from the corner of your eye. You check your phone again and try to keep your excitement to a minimum.
sunghoon: Definitely not a bad thing. I’d be a little worried if you weren’t
you: i think i’m just nervous because it’s our last year
you: anyway, did you settle in alright? are jay and jake still fighting lol
sunghoon: Take it easy, okay? You seemed on edge back at home
sunghoon: The guys are fine haha I think they missed each other even though they don’t act like it. Heeseung’s been keeping the peace. How about Ryujin and Yuna?
you: they’re good!! I’m actually with them right now. we’re watching my hero academia and having dinner
sunghoon: Pay attention to the TV and not me, Y/N 😭
sunghoon: The guys and I are gonna order takeout and I might pass out soon. Goodnight if I fall asleep before you do :)
you: gooodnight, hoon 😌
*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･
It’s unsurprising that your semester has started with a bang and that you find yourself more busy than not.
You’re barely home between classes, clubs, and your internship that eats up half of your week. You study at home and in cafes on campus with your other friends and roommates as well, catching up on lost time and complaining about how much work is being assigned.
Sunghoon doesn’t text much and you try not to let it get to you. You’ve sent a few here and there, wishing him a good morning a few days ago and asking if he’d be free to study with you some time this week. Still, you chalk it up to him settling into his life back at university.
You don’t know why this sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You never expected this summer romance to turn into anything more despite your want. But the change of environment and how abruptly your life changed after settling into a routine with Sunghoon has you imagining the worst.
Yuna and Ryujin leave the cafe you’ve been studying at after an hour to head to their shared class, leaving you alone at your table until someone tugs your headphones off of your head. You turn around without hesitance to find the culprit, only to be met with Jake Sim’s infectious grin.
“There’s that pretty face.”
“I’m going to hit you by accident one day,” you huff, pausing your music to face him.
“I missed you too,” Jake says sarcastically, bending down to hug your shoulders when you scowl at him. “How was your summer?”
“Pretty good,” is all you offer him as he pulls away. “How was being back home in Australia? I’m sure your brother liked having you back.”
“Quite the opposite but I think he loves me deep down,” he jokes. “Missed you guys, though.”
You peek over Jake’s shoulder to see the rest of his friends, the very ones you met the same night you reconnected with Sunghoon.
It was natural the way you became friends with them too. Despite Sunghoon’s attention being on you during that night in January, his friends pried him off of you with the hopes of getting to know the pretty young thing that caught their friend’s attention. When they found out you knew him back in his high school days, it was like the floodgates opened and new friendships blossomed that night.
“Hey,” you say fondly, opening your arms to engulf Jay in a hug first. Heeseung follows suit and gives you an extra squeeze. Sunghoon stands behind the former with his hands in his pockets when you approach.
But he doesn’t hug you like his friends do. Instead, Sunghoon tucks you in his side for a quick hug before letting you go.
Your heart sinks but you’re quick to smile at him and shift your focus back to the rest of the guys. It stings a little, considering his friends who hadn’t seen you in a few months greeted you the way you hoped Sunghoon would.
You settle back into your seat when Jay sits in front of you and when Jake takes off his backpack.
“Oh, you guys are staying?” you ask.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Jay asks. “We have all day to kill.”
“Not at all! I could use the company. Yuna and Ryujin just left for class.”
“Say less, princess. Your knights in shining armor are here to save you.” Jake’s words have you shaking your head in disapproval but he throws his head back in laughing before knocking your shoulder with his. “It’s good to have you back.”
“So did you guys do anything fun when you were back home?” Heeseung asks you and Sunghoon. “Y/N, you worked a summer job, right?”
“Mhm. That part wasn’t too exciting but a job’s a job.”
“What about the rest of your summer?”
You tilt your head towards him. “It was great.”
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything and merely gives you a quick smile before pulling out his own laptop and setting it in front of him. The lump in your throat grows, especially as you look at Sunghoon and will him to look back at you. But he doesn’t. Instead, he tells Jay his coffee order when he offers to buy everyone coffee.
The five of you remain like that for the next two hours with your noses deep in your assignments and projects. You steal glances at Sunghoon and see that he doesn’t meet your gaze, which confuses you.
you: you you doing okay? you seem kinda quiet
From the corner of your eye, you watch Sunghoon read your text.
sunghoon: Yeah I’m alright. Didn’t get a lot of sleep this week :/
you: i’m sorry ): hopefully you can get some sleep soon
sunghoon: Hahah yeah I hope so
He returns his attention to the screen in front of him without glancing in your direction. It makes the pit in your stomach sink deeper than before and although he’s given you a reason as to why he’s aloof, the voice in the back of your head tells you to worry.
But there’s nothing you can do right now, not when his best friends are sitting next to him and certainly not when they’re including you in their conversations. They tell you about their respective summers and how much they looked forward to coming back for one last year before everybody parts ways.
It warms you on the inside to know you’re being treated like an equal by Sunghoon’s friends. They’re people you know through friends of friends and would only see at parties on the weekends. You were a little surprised to see Jake approach you in a friendly manner because you hadn’t spoken to him since the last week of your third year, only communicating on Instagram when one of you would reply to the other.
Jay and Heeseung are the same, too. This is the first time you’ve hung out with them when alcohol isn’t involved and you’re scared at how normal this feels, especially when Sunghoon sits across from you but doesn’t make an effort to add anything of substance into the conversation.
The five of you part ways with Heeseung telling you not to become a stranger this year. You promised him you won’t, but the confused feeling resurfaces when Sunghoon merely waves at you as his friends hug you goodbye.
You have a bad feeling.
When the semester drags on, you keep your word and greet them in passing or entertain their rambunctious nature when they include you from time to time. You see Jake the most, as most of his classes are in the same building or the surrounding area in conjunction to yours. He keeps you company in between classes from time to time and you’ve developed a good system where you meet him for lunch in the cafeteria between your class periods and wait for the other guys to join.
Sunghoon doesn’t text you as much as you’d like him to and it feels silly to expect him to pay attention to you as much as he did over the summer. But you can’t help your yearning, not when he looks criminally good when you see him walking throughout campus.
Communication between the two of you had died down quicker than you realize. After the first few weeks of setting in, Sunghoon texted you less and less with you being the one to initiate the conversation. He would like your Instagram posts and stories from time to time and text you about things your now-mutual friends would invite you to. But that was the basis of your conversations nowadays.
Two months have passed and you’re confused.
You respond to his stories as well, especially when he posts with your friends. You try not to read into it when you see girls you know posting Sunghoon on their stories either. They’re innocuous and it’s never just him alone in the frame, but Sunghoon will repost them onto his account and it leaves you wondering if there was any space for you in his life.
The same phenomenon from high school follows him to university, except his life is not consumed by figure skating anymore. The girls are still fawning over him because of his charm and good looks. People still want to be his friend because he’s wickedly good at soccer even though he’s not on the team. The fraternity he and the other guys are in, often throw parties to celebrate random happenings and use it as an excuse to socialize with people. You see him hanging out with people you don’t know while you wait for a text back.
The worst part is that you prepared yourself for this outcome but willed yourself to believe it wouldn’t come true. The two weeks you spent worrying about what life would be like once you came back to university was a premonition for how awfully alone you’d feel seeing Sunghoon having fun while you distracted yourself with your studies and your own friends.
Even Jake, who you don’t know as well as you know Sunghoon, made a small comment about how odd it was that you and Sunghoon hadn’t hung out much. He remembers his friend being smitten by you back in January and figured the two of you must’ve spent a lot of time together when you went back home. You confirmed just as much, leaving out your bedroom trysts when you talked about your summer with Sunghoon.
It hurts when you realize you’ve become the type of person you promised yourself you’d never be; you wait by your phone to see if Sunghoon texts you outside of the group chat you’ve found yourself in with the other guys and anticipate whatever he might post on social media. You can’t blame people for being interested in Sunghoon either. He’s wickedly good looking and can charm anyone without lifting a finger. It’s unfair the way he can move on with his life without worrying too much about what other people think.
You wonder if he thinks about you at all. Communication fizzles out until it’s a few texts here and there. You hear from him mostly through that shared group chat but you don’t talk all that much to begin with. It’s mostly the guys joking with each other and you reacting until one of them says something so out of pocket that it prompts a response from you. You’re still navigating how to act around them now that Sunghoon hasn’t paid much attention to you for the months and a half that you’ve been back at school.
Sometimes you think about how jarring it would look like to people from your hometown if they saw you and Sunghoon together over the summer. You were much more introverted and kept to yourself for the most part back when you were in high school. You were always too shy to make the first move and instead chose to watch people as they made harmless teenage mistakes, watching friendships fail and relationships blossom.
Coming to university made you rethink your whole approach to life. It encouraged your go-getter attitude and the belief that you’re more capable than you think. It’s why you’ve made more friends in the past four years than you did in the first eighteen years of your life. It’s also why you didn’t shy away from Sunghoon in January despite knowing you used to have the biggest crush on him back when you were seat mates.
To you, Sunghoon is still that sweet boy who works hard to make people proud of him. He’s that good-hearted, kind person who only wants what’s best for him and his loved ones. He’s not someone you expect to be a local community hero or somebody to put on a pedestal for no reason. Sunghoon has always been your neighbor, one you’ve seen in his good and bad days.
Brushing you off like you two hadn’t spent the summer twisted in bedsheets makes you feel disappointed and unwanted.
Jake invites you to his fraternity’s party on Saturday night and you tell him you’ll go. If not because your friend invited you to something he’s passionate about, then definitely because you need a distraction that isn’t academic related.
He tells you to bring Yuna and Ryujin. The three of you are dressed appropriately and bask in the cooler weather now that the hottest months of the summer are over. The three of you hail an Uber and head over with a few shots of soju each, leaving you pleasantly buzzed with the ability to walk without stumbling.
The party itself is in full swing when you arrive, as to be expected. Jake meets you at the door and lets you in himself. You almost forget how well known he is because of how painfully normal he seems when he’s not drinking. But walking with him means you witness stranger after stranger come up to him like he’s an old friend they hadn’t seen in years. You assume he knows them all.
“You guys need a drink,” he says. “What do you like? We have beer, seltzer, and hard alcohol if you want?”
“I’ll take a seltzer and Yuna will take a beer,” says Ryujin.
“I’ll do a seltzer too,” you say. Jake fishes for them in the cooler and hands them to you all respectively. “I can’t believe you know this many people.”
“Eh, I know them, give or take. I used to be more active in the frat but physics has been kicking my ass lately,” Jake explains. “This is the first time I’ve had in a while to plan one of these things. It feels good.”
“You really know how to throw a party, Sim Jaeyun,” Yuna says as she tips her beer bottle towards him. “As long as we get in for free, I couldn’t care less.”
“You guys will always get in for free,” Jake promises with a salute. “Scout’s honor.”
“You used to be a boy scout?” Ryujin asks over the music. Jake laughs and shakes his head, assuming she had the most to drink prior to arriving.
Jake leads you to another room where he says the other guys are hanging out. Jay’s the first to see you, Yuna, and Ryujin, and offers his seat on the couch for one of you. Heeseung gives you a friendly hug when Ryujin happily takes Jay’s former seat as Jake steals your attention to catch up with you from the past week before you notice a girl sitting on Sunghoon’s lap.
Time itself feels like it’s moving in slow motion when you see them from the corner of your eye. She’s perched on his knee as she talks animatedly to another person you don’t recognize and Sunghoon’s arm is lazily draped over her waist. Your heart sinks, especially when it doesn't register to him that you’ve walked into the room.
Jake seems to notice how closed off you’ve become when your answers start to slow down. You try not to notice his worried eyes when they dart between you and Sunghoon, but he puts two and two together when you refuse to meet his gaze.
He maneuvers so that his body is blocking your view and the only person you can focus on is him. You appreciate Jake even if your body language doesn’t convey that at this second. You see Yuna and Ryujin come to the same realization a few seconds later and share a look with the two girls before letting your disappointment wash over you.
“Hey,” Jake says gently, knocking his bottle with your can. “Don’t look at him.”
“It’s really hard not to when he’s the only person who has a girl sitting in his lap.”
“True, but you’re not having fun and it’s only making you upset.”
You tilt your head in confusion. “But that’s your best friend?”
“One who’s making my other friend feel upset,” he tells you. “We all had a feeling you two were more than just friends, you know. Neither of you are really good at hiding how you feel.”
“That bad, huh?”
Jake laughs but shakes his head. “Not really, honestly. It’s cute the way you care for him. No one talks about Sunghoon the way you do.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”
“You talk about him like he’s a person with faults, Y/N. I don’t get the feeling that he was an ex-skating protege or the campus’ best looking student when you talk about him.”
“Well, he is those things,” you mumble in annoyance.
“Sure,” Jake laughs, “but it’s much more than that. Sunghoon used to tell us about how he’d see you on your balcony when he came home from skating practice, you know. You were always doing something like reading a book or staring at the sky. Hoon said he always wondered what you were thinking.”
“That is awfully kind of him to say considering he has another girl in his lap,” you sigh. “This feels so childish. I knew whatever happened over the summer was meant to end when we got back to university but I had this idea in my head that it wouldn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Jake apologizes. “He’s my friend but so are you. It’s unfair.”
“This is definitely too depressing of a conversation to have at a party,” you say with an awkward laugh. “You didn’t invite me to hear me bitch and moan.”
“No, but I’m always down for one. Invite me over the next time you, Ryujin, and Yuna have a bitching session. God knows I need one.”
“I’ll pencil you in.”
When you regroup and are introduced to the girl on Sunghoon’s lap, you aren’t sure what’s supposed to hurt more—Sunghoon barely acknowledging you beyond a lazy wave or this girl being an absolute sweetheart who definitely didn’t know you and Sunghoon hooked up for months over the summer.
She’s kind and includes you and your friends in the conversation, catching you up on what you missed before arriving. She’s considerate and explains inside jokes she has with the people around you when they’re brought up in conversation and it makes your heart fall when you realize just how perfect and normal she is.
You’re not sure whether she’s a girl Sunghoon met just now or has known for a while. You don’t know if he’s going home with her or if this is more than just a one time thing. What you do know, however, is Jake has given you the perfect environment to distract yourself from the awful feeling you get when you see how his chin is tucked on this girl’s shoulder.
It’s Jake who promises Yuna and Ryujin to watch over you tonight. The girls keep their drinking to a minimum too, just to make sure you get home safely. You down shot after shot when Heeseung or Jay hand you alcohol and mingle with the people around you, forcing yourself to seem more outgoing than you are to prevent yourself from thinking about Sunghoon.
The worst part is that he doesn’t seem to care that you’re here or that you’re not walking to him. He’s too preoccupied with his personal company and all of his focus is on her, just like it was on you all those months ago. It makes you sick to your stomach and although you’re incredibly wasted, you stop yourself from ingesting anymore alcohol when Yuna suggests it’s time to go back home.
Jake is kind enough to drive the three of you back when he’s sobered up. He walks the three of you into the apartment building and makes sure you’re safe inside the apartment. Jake makes Yuna and Ryujin promise to update him on how you’re holding up over the weekend and leaves to go back to the party after he squeezes your hand and tells you goodbye.
Your friends help you get ready for bed and the last image before you close your eyes is the way Sunghoon looked at that girl, wishing it was you instead.
*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･
“We should set you up on a date.”
Ryujin barges into your bedroom where you’re sitting cross-legged over your desk with assignments so sprawled over the surface. It’s been a few weeks since the party and you haven’t made an effort to reach out to Sunghoon, muting his social media from your feed and only hearing from him when he chimes in the group chat.
“He’s a great guy and you guys have pretty similar personalities. It hit me when we were hanging out earlier today but if you’re in, I’ll set everything up!”
Ryujin lets you scroll through his Instagram feed and you’re feeling more hopeful and excited than you have since the semester began. The guy is cute enough that you don’t feel immediately turned off by him and he seems to have a fun, outgoing personality. Ryujin’s a little stunned when you agree off the bat, having expected a little pushback, but you’re tired of feeling second best when it comes to love and romance.
Ryujin gives this guy your number and tells you that he should be the one reaching out. You listen when she tells you to relinquish that desire to date and rush yourself into meeting up with him if you don’t match well over text. She’s right, as per usual.
This guy texts you at a respectable hour and keeps your conversations interesting. He makes you laugh and asks you interesting questions that immediately reel you in. You find yourself thinking about Sunghoon less when you talk to him about your own passions and as you get to know him.
In fact, you’re a bit perplexed at how well the two of you seem to get along in just a few short days. You’ve talked on the phone a few times and have seen each other in passing when you pick up Ryujin from their shared class before heading home. It’s enough familiarity to agree when he asks you to go out with him the following Saturday.
It still hurts to think about Sunghoon, but this guy has provided a distraction that makes you think your feelings for the former may truly be gone. Maybe you really did only like him for the summer and didn’t get the closer you needed to move on. Maybe this was that closure.
Saturday comes around and you both agree to meet at a ramen house close to your apartment. Yuna tells you it’s best to meet him there in case you’re not having fun and need a reason to leave. You take her advice and double check that your lip gloss looks good and that all hairs are in place before saying goodbye, promising to update them when you come home.
You get to the ramen shop fifteen minutes early out of sheer nervousness and rationalize that you’d rather wait for him instead of risk being late. The air is cool enough that you keep your jacket on.
Only, you end up waiting longer than you’d like.
People walk past you but none of them are the person you’re waiting for. You grow more irritable and anxious altogether, checking your phone to see if there are any texts in his end that you neglected to see earlier. But you see nothing.
After ten minutes past when he was supposed to meet you arrives, you text and ask him where he is. When another ten minutes passes, you call and leave a voicemail. You don’t know why you waited a full forty five minutes for him before deciding that it wasn’t worth it. Being rejected without knowing why for the second time has unlocked the deep insecurity of not being good enough, one you kept hidden from the surface.
Fresh tears spring to your eyes and you wipe them away quickly to avoid crying in public. The shame you feel is weighing on you heavily. It seems childish to experience this level of annoyance and you refrain from sending a lengthy paragraph with less than favorable things to say.
It all leads back to the nagging feeling of not being good enough for people to keep around. It’s almost as if you’re a liability of sorts, wandering around and hoping that who you are is enough to give others peace.
You’re brought out of your thoughts when you hear someone calling your name.
“Y/N, is that you?”
You turn around to see Jake squinting and walking towards you. He smiles when he can see you standing in front of him and leans to give you a loose hug, initially too excited to have run into you to notice you’d been crying. When you pull away from him, Jake sees a tear fall from your eye and immediately pulls you back towards him.
“Woah, woah,” Jake says when you stumble into his chest. He secures you between his arms as you pathetically let your tears fall onto his jacket. He looks down at your crying figure and feels his heart ache. “What happened, Y/N? Are you hurt?”
You shake your head and lift yourself from his chest, roughly pushing underneath your eyes to rid yourself of your tears. You’re sure some of your eyeliner has smudged and your makeup is ruined, and the thought of Jake watching you cry on a public sidewalk makes you feel pathetic.
“You’re not hurt,” he guesses when you move your head from left to right. He puts his hands on your shoulders and bends to look at you. “But you’re crying.”
“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m just gonna go home.”
“Not when you’re like this,” he says. “What’s going on, Y/N?”
“I had a stupid date with a stupid guy, and he stood me up without telling me why he couldn’t make it.”
“That fucking blows.”
“Tell me about it.”
“He didn’t give you a reason either? I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you sigh. “I think I’m just done with this whole dating bit until I get my life together. I’m exhausted, Jake.”
He nods. “That guy sucks. I hope he doesn’t wake up tomorrow.”
“You and me both.”
“That’s the most un-gentlemanly thing a guy could do. Why bother asking you out if he’s not going to show up?”
“You’re asking all the right questions but I’m too upset to even think right now, and I’m hungry but all I have in my kitchen is leftovers that I don’t want to eat.”
The frustration eats at your chest and you feel an impending tantrum rising. Jake can only look at you with sympathetic eyes as you shake from the cool breeze. But he shakes his head when you suggest going back home and offers his arm out to you.
“Screw him. I’ll take you out on a date tonight since you were promised one.”
You raise an eyebrow. “A date? Jake…”
“Come on,” he says with a friendly smile. “It won’t mean anything. You deserve to go on a mind blowing date after, well, everything.”
“What makes you think you have what it takes to take me on a mind blowing date?” you ask as you loop your arm with his.
“Because I, Sim Jaeyun, know how to impress girls.” He laughs at his own joke and ushers you inside the restaurant before flagging down a waiter to be seated. “But really, I like being friends with you and I hate seeing you sad.”
“You’re definitely climbing the ranks in this totally imaginary friendship ladder,” you tell him. The waiter leads you both to an empty table and Jake pulls out your chair for you before bowing dramatically.
“Your seat, madam.”
“Thank you, kind sir.”
He laughs and pride swells in his chest when he sees you laughing. Jake has gathered bits and pieces about your summer with Sunghoon between the two of you. He’s not as close with you as he is with the former, but the blossoming friendship since that night you two first met has him thinking you might be someone who he wants around for the long run.
It’s why Jake finds himself irritated at Sunghoon for ignoring you in the first place. He tries to bring you up in conversation subtly, mentioning your name or what you’ve been up to in passing. Jay and Heeseung are quick to take the bait and talk about you candidly like they would with any of their other friends but Sunghoon always remains quiet and stoic. It doesn’t help that Jake remembers the crestfallen look on your face the night his friend let another girl sit on his lap.
Jake can’t guess why this seemingly perfect summer ended so abruptly. Sunghoon was full of hope during his time away from university and often talked about how happy he was to be back home. He mentioned being with you a few times but Jake and the rest of the guys had a sneaking suspicion that you were the one making his last summer before graduating, one to remember.
But now, you sit in front of him with your hair done and an outfit that he’s never seen you wear to campus before. You look like an angel under the artificial lighting as you talk animatedly about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you. Jake almost feels sorry for Sunghoon. It could very well be him sitting in front of you instead if he hadn’t ignored you.
The two of you make the fifteen minute walk back to Jake’s apartment after he tells you it’ll be just him until the following evening. He says that Jay and Heeseung are taking a weekend trip but doesn’t know what Sunghoon is up to, although you suspect that he’s with the girl from the party.
You try not to dwell on it when you enter his apartment. The living area is much cleaner than you anticipated it to be. There’s artwork and posters lining the walls and Jake lets you look around when he grabs two bottles of soju.
“I’m in desperate need of a bitch-fest and I know you are too,” Jake says as he beckons you to sit on the couch. “This is a judgment-free zone, okay? Whatever you say won’t be repeated.”
“That’s a tempting offer but I still need to go home later.”
Jake shrugs. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.” You don’t contemplate it for a second.
“Screw it.”
You take one bottle from Jake and unscrew the cap, chugging a quarter of the liquid before handing it back to him. He doesn’t say anything before tipping his head back to do the same.
“Sometimes I feel like everyone has this expectation of me that I can’t fulfill,” Jake starts. “I mean, I know I’m on the soccer team and all of that shit, but people expect me to be this all-rounder who knows what I’m gonna do in life. I don’t know anything.”
“That sucks. I can’t imagine why that many people think that they know what’s best for you.”
“Everyone tells me to go pro. Without fail, every single game ends with someone telling me to jump the gun and go for it. But I don’t play soccer for fame, you know? It’s exhausting and I hate that I’m losing my passion for it.”
“I’m sorry, Jake.” The two of you sip on the alcohol until a nice buzz has formed. He watches you pout and he refrains from cooing at you. “I think people need to shut the fuck up forever.”
“Amen.”
“I didn’t know you felt that way. Seriously, Jake, I’m sorry people make you feel like you have to be somebody you don’t want to be.”
“People think it’s stupid that I want to pursue a career in astrophysics but it’s what I love and it’s what I’m good at. I’m waiting on acceptance letters for grad schools across the country but nobody seems to give a shit about that.”
Your heart aches for him. Jake feels your head rest in his shoulder and he rests his own head on top of yours.
“People think they know what’s good for you based on their own delusions about who you are,” you say.
“I love my team and I love soccer but lately I haven’t been looking forward to going to practice or the games. I hate that it feels like it’s weighing me down.”
“Do you know what you’re gonna do?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. I get in the zone when we have a game but the aftermath is just…wondering what I’m going to do when it’s all over. I want to keep playing but not if it means I lose my passion for the sport.”
“Well, that makes a lot of sense. I’d hate to see you lose passion for the thing that makes you happiest.”
“Me too. Now you go,” Jake beckons after a moment of silence. “I feel like I just ripped my heart out and put it in your hands.” You steal the bottle from Jake’s hands and he motions to open a new one as you finish the last of the liquid.
“I’m going to feel really stupid for saying all of this so please promise you won’t make fun of me.” Jake rubs your arm with the hand around your shoulder.
“I would never, Y/N.”
You sigh. “Sometimes it feels like everything for me is an ‘almost.’ It just seems like the universe has it out for me and won’t let me be happy because everything I’ve ever wanted keeps getting ripped away just when I think it’s in reach.
“This stupid date is a first. I feel so fucking humiliated and I hate that I waited as long as I did just for him to not text me or let me know he wasn’t coming. It makes me feel like some sort of pathetic excuse of a human being that he couldn’t give me the decency to give me a heads up.”
“He’s fucked up for that, Y/N. I mean it. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about it, okay?”
“Thanks, Jake. This whole Sunghoon thing too…I’ll admit that I’m hurt. Sue me. It was shitty to ghost me and pretend I don’t exist. It’s fucking cowardly not to end it with me face-to-face. But mostly, I feel so fucking ashamed that I even fell for him in the first place.”
“What do you mean?”
You sink deeper into Jake’s side. “Sunghoon has always attracted attention wherever he goes. Back in high school, everyone thought he was untouchable because he competed in skating competitions and had to miss school to appear on TV.
But to me, he was just my neighbor who struggled to wake up in the morning or someone I’d see come home late at night after everyone had eaten dinner. It was so weird to me back then, to see someone as young as him do what he did.”
Jake leans the other bottle towards you and you take a long sip.
“I wanted to be friends with him so bad, Jake. He was so funny without even trying. All the guys and girls in school would laugh because they wanted to be his friend but I thought he had such a unique sense of humor. And he’s way smarter than people gave him credit for. I don’t know how he managed to be a professional skater and a student at the same time.
Then we bumped into each other at that party after three years of not seeing each other. Sunghoon is more confident than he was when we were kids. I think I am too. It was weird talking to him about our hometown when we barely talked, but it felt like we lived the same life.”
“So why do you feel ashamed?”
You bite your lip. “I had the biggest crush on him when I was sixteen. We shared only one class together and instead of a final, our teacher said we could have a small holiday party and have secret Santas. Sunghoon picked my name out of the bunch and he gifted me two things—a vinyl of my favorite album and guitar picks.”
Jake nudges you. “You play guitar?”
“I remember telling him how shocked I was because the budget was twenty dollars. But Sunghoon said he was at the mall with his friends when he saw this vinyl in the local record store and had to buy it. He told me he was originally just going to give me the guitar picks, but he remembered that all I could talk about before class started was how excited I was for it to come out.”
“Wow…that’s a pretty sentimental gift.”
“I was so touched that he did that and remembered something about me. It felt like the first time I was seen by people who weren’t my parents. That turned into a big, fat crush on Sunghoon that ended when he started dating the most popular girl in school at the time. It made sense, you know. Both of them were prom king and queen and that dumb tradition reminded me that I have more to live for than waiting for a boy to like me back.
But then summer happened. It was like I was sixteen all over again and my feelings for Sunghoon never went away. I ran into him getting coffee and we ended up talking for an hour at the coffee shop before we went back to my place. The rest of the summer is history.”
Jake drinks from the bottle. “Sunghoon was your first love, wasn’t he?”
You groan into your hands. “Don’t remind me.”
“He’s not on my good side either, babe. Lately he’s been on edge, I guess. He’s more irritable, too. Sunghoon’s short with us and it’s driving me crazy.”
“Seems like he’s the common denominator.”
You drink from the bottle. “I don’t base my value on whether or not I’m dating but…it always feels like I’m losing. It feels like I’m constantly placing second and it kills me that I have to experience this all over again.”
Jake doesn’t say anything for a while and your buzz is starting to increase. He pulls you in for another hug and sits like that for a good moment until he’s sure you won’t cry again.
“Life is unfair but at least we have soju.”
You snort. “You got that right. Didn’t you say you guys had a karaoke machine? I think we need to do something that’s not depressing.”
“When I get the highest score, you better not complain.”
Jake excuses himself to get more drinks from the kitchen and takes the liberty to text Yuna and Ryujin about what happened that night and that you’ll probably stay over at his place after consuming so much alcohol. They thank him for letting them know and Jake pockets his phone, hoping that the hurt in your soul will disappear when you wake up.
*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･
It’s two in the morning when Sunghoon comes home unexpectedly.
Jake notices him after the floor creaks under his footsteps and switches his eyes from the television screen to his friend. You fell asleep an hour ago and he didn’t have the heart to wake up, nor drive you back to your place because of the alcohol left in his system. Instead, Jake put a blanket over your body and let you lie your head on the armrest.
Sunghoon looks between you and Jake. He doesn’t know what to make of it and takes his shoes off to delay the conversation he knows is imminent.
“I thought you were with that girl,” Jake mutters, not bothering to glance at Sunghoon, who is now standing close to him.
“I couldn’t do it,” Sunghoon tells him.
“Hm?”
“I said I couldn’t do it. She was kissing me and tried to take my shirt off and I couldn’t go through with it.”
Jake nods. “Okay.”
“Okay…”
“You should probably go to bed. It’s two A.M.” Sunghoon looks at Jake quizzically.
“Alright? Why is Y/N here?”
“That’s none of your business,” Jake says with a clipped tone.
“It is my business if she’s in my apartment.”
“Our apartment.”
“Sure, whatever.”
Jake’s mouth quirks slightly. “Y/N and I were just hanging out.”
“The two of you, hanging out in the apartment. Right.”
“Why’s that so hard to believe?”
Sunghoon pushes his irritation down. “You guys don’t seem like the type to hang out without the rest of us.”
“I bumped into her tonight and we ended up coming back here and getting drunk. No biggie.”
“You guys got drunk, alone?”
“Why? Is there a problem?”
Sunghoon feels taken aback by Jake’s attitude. He wants to throw it back in his face and ask his friend why he’s acting the way he is, but your sleeping figure prevents him from raising his voice. It’s late and he’s tired, and all he wants to do is figure out if you and Jake are involved. He sticks around for another minute, trying to think of someone to say without tipping Jake off. He balances on both legs, awkwardly shuffling around until Jake sighs loudly.
“We’re not seeing each other.”
Sunghoon chokes, causing Jake to roll his eyes. “W-What?”
“Y/N and I aren’t hooking up.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“Sure you weren’t,” Jake smirks, turning his attention back to the TV screen. “You’ve been standing there like an idiot trying to figure out how to talk to me about this.”
“Well…okay then. Good.”
“Good?”
Sunghoon panics. “Yeah. She doesn’t deserve more heartbreak.” Jake laughs and shakes his head, biting his tongue to prevent what he wants to say from tumbling out.
“That’s rich coming from you, Sunghoon. You of all people don’t get to talk about what Y/N deserves. You’ve been a coward this entire semester and didn’t have the balls to cut it off with her in person.”
“Jake, I—”
“This is the first time I’ve seen you act like a child, bro. You ignore your feelings and then get mad when you see her with me. Which is it? Do you like her or not?”
“It’s not that simple. I just—”
“You just what? Throw away a good thing and ruin it? Ignore the only person in your life who knows you inside and out?”
“I’m afraid that she only likes me because everybody else used to,” Sunghoon confessed. “I’m scared that Y/N doesn’t give two shits about me other than the career I had and where my life is going.”
Jake scoffs. “I love you, man, but your head is so far up your ass right now. Y/N is the only person who cares about you for the reasons you want. She’s the only person who’s never seen you like some sort of prize to be won and you threw that all away for what exactly? For a girl you barely know?”
“She’s no one.”
“Precisely,” says Jake. “You keep deluding yourself into thinking all of these girls you meet are perfect for you but you’re self sabotaging. Who’s to say those girls give a fuck about you?”
Sunghoon remains quiet and allows Jake to be angry at him because he knows he deserves it. He never intended to hurt you. Seeing you stop looking for his eyes at parties or ignoring him when you see him in passing makes Sunghoon believe you’ve stopped trying with him, just like he did with you.
It hurts to know that there’s a possibility of you moving on from him. It’s strange to think you could live a life without him in it because this past summer has taught him how loved he could feel and how he could have it all if he really wanted it. But the happiness and worry-free vacation scared him into oblivion with the recollection that everyone who has ever loved him, has now left.
But not you. You were there for Sunghoon in his youth without him knowing it and you were there for him when he needed a reminder that his life could be more than outgrowing expectations. Sunghoon ran away from it because it felt foreign, and now he’s understanding the weight of his actions when he sees you comfortably sleeping next to his best friend.
“I’m not going to kick Y/N out tonight, by the way. She’s been asleep for an hour and I’m not gonna disrupt her,” Jake says, bringing Sunghoon out of his thoughts. “It’s probably best if you stay in your room until she leaves tomorrow morning.”
He nods and looks at your still figure on the edge of the couch. He wants to see you up close like he did over the summertime and kiss the worry from your pout, but he refrains. Instead, Sunghoon whispers goodnight to the two of you and disappears into the hallway.
*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･
Sunghoon builds the courage to talk to you when he wakes up the next morning and sees the living room empty. He’s not sure if Jake told you about him arriving earlier than expected. Honestly, he’s not sure what he’s hoping for.
He prays for a moment to get you alone and that you’ll hear him out. Knowing you were so close but out of his grasp makes Sunghoon’s heart fall to his chest. It feels like a constant battle between what he wants and what he thinks is good for him based on unsavory experiences from his youth. But you’re not just another person to him.
Sunghoon breaks it off with the girl from the party and he’s more than shocked when she tells him there aren’t any hard feelings. But she says she always noticed the far away look in his eyes and assumed he was still hung up on somebody else in the meantime. Sunghoon apologizes until he feels like it’s enough.
When he sees you standing outside of the local convenience store by your apartment in the middle of the night, Sunghoon knows it’s time for him to stop being a coward.
“Y/N,” he says when he approaches.
You look perfect underneath ungodly fluorescent lights, so much so that he thinks it’s unfair how good you look. The basket in your hand is filled with a few items and Sunghoon is immediately transported to all the nights where the two of you would make midnight runs for late night snacks. It tugs at his heart strings and he wants to turn back time at this moment.
You look at him like you’ve seen a ghost. He knows he’s the last person you expected to run into tonight. It’s clear by the way you’ve taken a step back, carefully dropping a bag of chips in your basket.
“What do you want?”
Sunghoon tries not to wince at your cold tone.
“Can we talk?”
“What’s there to talk about?”
“Alright,” he says. “I deserve that.”
You sigh. “You have until I finish shopping to talk.”
Sunghoon wastes no time and stands beside you at a respectable distance to avoid making you feel uncomfortable. You scan the aisles and he realizes you’re taking your time when he remembers that you know this store like the back of your hand.
“I’m sorry,” Sunghoon begins. “I’m sorry for ghosting you after our summer together. It was shitty on my part to ignore you and then have you see me with another girl.”
“Is that all?” you asked him with a clipped tone. “Is that really what you wanted to tell me?”
“No,” he rebukes, swallowing harshly. “You deserve that apology at the least. I don’t know why I did it. I guess a lot of my fears about holding people close scared the shit out of me because everyone leaves eventually and I was scared that you’d be one of them.
“I know it was fucked up not to talk to you about this before we came back to school. I could tell something was bothering you but I was so selfish and tried to convince myself that we’d be okay once we left home. I’m so fucking sorry for ignoring you and making you feel like you weren’t worth my time, Y/N. But I’m here to tell you that I’m so in love with you and that I’m so, so fucking sorry.”
You stop in your tracks and shut your eyes. He watches you breathe in and holds his breath. Sunghoon’s hands are shaking and his heartbeat feels like it’s running as fast as a bullet train when you turn around to face him. When you open your eyes, all he can see is disappointment.
“You were everything to me, you know? Back in grade school, everyone used to talk about you like you were a God but I was the only person who talked to you like a human being. I know you know that. I was the only person your age who didn’t make you feel like you had to meet expectations.
When we reconnected over the summer, it felt like I was struck by lightning, or something. God, I had the biggest crush on you when we were in high school but you never looked at me like that because I wasn’t one of the girls who was popular enough to be seen with you. But I know we were all caught up in stereotypes and childish behavior. I don’t blame you for that.”
Sunghoon follows you to another aisle.
“Then summer happened. You treated me like your girlfriend and you talked about the future like I was going to be part of it. You messed with my head when you’d hold me in public and kiss me when we had sex. You confused me when you stopped texting me and when you decided to hookup with some girl without breaking it off with me. I don’t give a shit if you didn’t like me back. The decent thing to do would’ve been to tell me you wanted to stop whatever it was we had.
I feel so fucking humiliated to think you could’ve ever reciprocated my feelings for you. I hate that I let you back into my life just for you to treat me the way you did. It makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you and I don’t want to feel like that anymore.”
“But I love you,” Sunghoon croaks with tears forming in his eyes.
“Well, it’s too late for that.”
You walk to the cashier without looking behind you. Sunghoon feels frozen on his ground but sees your figure becoming smaller before he rushes to stand next to you and pull out his wallet.
“Paying for my shit won’t fix this.”
“I know,” Sunghoon says softly while he hands the cashier his credit card. “Just let me. Please.”
You don’t intervene. You don’t say anything when he steps out of the store with you or when he offers to walk you home because it’s dark out and you know it’s a ten minute journey. You don’t say anything when the wind blows renders you cold, but you decline when Sunghoon offers your jacket.
“Thanks for walking me,” you say when you reach your front door. “Sunghoon, I want to believe that you’re sorry and you regret what you did, but that doesn’t change the fact that you hurt me. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of this back and forth. It’s time we both move on, don’t you think?”
His mouth feels dry and Sunghoon thinks he might shatter into a million pieces in front of you. He feels his heart breaking when you turn around to unlock your door and when you don’t spare him a glance as you walk inside. Sunghoon stays with his mouth slightly ajar as he stares at your front door, replaying your words in his head.
With a heavy heart, Sunghoon begins to walk home and lets his tears fall until his vision becomes blurry.
*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･
“Now you know I’m not one to give men the benefit of the doubt, but Jake says he can hear Sunghoon crying in his room every night.”
Ryujin and Yuna sit on your bed while you’re sitting on the chair at your desk. They pick at the pillows decorating the mattress while you kick your feet up and place them on top of the blanket.
“And, as we know, Sunghoon doesn’t cry,” says Yuna.
“Serves him right,” you say. You don’t deny that it makes your heart hurt for him, but your anger and pride prevent you from expressing any sadness for Sunghoon.
“Based on what you told us, it really sounded like Sunghoon’s apology came from the bottom of his heart and it wasn’t a cop out to make himself feel better.” Yuna hugs your pillow closer to her. “It’s clear that you two still love each other.”
“But it doesn’t matter, Yuna. Not when the thought of ghosting me crossed his mind. It hurts to know that there was even a time when Sunghoon thought I wasn’t worth keeping around.”
“We can all agree he was a fucking idiot but there’s a reason why he’s crying every night and why he didn’t make up excuses when you told him how you felt,” says Ryujin. “That’s gotta count for something.”
“Jesus, you two must really believe him if you’re saying all of this.”
Yuna shrugs. “Obviously we don’t know him as well as you do but we know him well enough. What he did was terrible, no doubt about that. But it’s been weeks since you guys saw each other and you’re both so miserable.”
“Hey!” you shout, plucking an eraser off of your desk and flinging it at her. “I’m not miserable.”
“Sure,” Ryujin snorts. “There’s no use in lying to us when you know we’ll call you out.” She smiles in satisfaction when you huff.
“We’re not saying you need to marry him or even absolve what he did,” Yuna advises. “But we both know you’re not moving on from him. You’re hurt and we get that but you’ve loved him all your life. That feeling will never go away.”
“What if he hurts me again?” you ask. “What if he decides that he’s going to stop communicating with me because I’m not what he wants anymore?”
“The man told you he was in love with you in front of strangers in a convenience store,” Yuna deadpans. “Even if he does decide it’s over, you’ll be strong and you’ll know how to stand your ground.”
“If you don’t go for it, you’ll know how it’ll end. But come on, Y/N. You’re so in love with Sunghoon that you still yearn for him even after you told him to move on from you. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy too?”
You bite your lip. Ryujin and Yuna look at you with all the love and care in the world, and for a moment you wonder if Sunghoon has ever looked at you like that.
Ryujin speaks. “Again, you know I’m the last person to vouch for a man, but this is Sunghoon. He’s the guy you love more than life and someone who will never be able to move on from you.”
“You have to realize that,” Yuna says. “You’re everything to him.”
“I don’t know.”
“But you care so much for him. I mean, you were ready to bolt out of the apartment to check up on him when I told you he’s been crying.”
“Fuck you guys,” you say in distress, hiding your face in your lap. They laugh and come to stand next to you, pulling your body in an upright position and smothering you in between them.
“Just talk to him, at least. See where it goes. If it doesn’t work out, at least you could say you tried.”
“And you know,” Yuna says, “sometimes trying your best is enough.”
You gather yourself and put your shoes on when Ryujin hands you a tissue. Yuna grabs her car keys and tells you she’ll drive and that they’ll wait for as long as you need in case you need any back up. You hug both of them like you’re afraid they’ll slip away but they tell you that everything will be just fine.
Heeseung is the one who answers the door when you knock. He’s shocked to see you but lets you in when Jay and Jake spot you from the living room. Sunghoon sits between them on the couch when Jake nudges his side.
When he meets your eyes, he understands what it means to have the wind knocked out of his lungs. He wipes a stray tear from his eyes and you wonder if he knows how your heart is breaking for him all over again.
“We’ll be outside,” Jake says to cut the silence. The three boys walk out and join Yuna and Ryujin in the car when they see them parked out front.
“Hi,” you say quietly, standing awkwardly with your weight shifting from one leg to the other.
Sunghoon stands abruptly and nearly trips over the blanket covering his lap to get to you. You stifle a grin when you remember why you’re here in the first place and you hate that you melt whenever he’s around you.
“Y/N, hi,” Sunghoon says. “W-What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said that night you apologized,” you tell him. “I didn’t think you loved me the way you said you did until Jake told us you’ve been crying for weeks.”
“How could I not love you?” he asks timidly. Sunghoon wants to reach for your hand but refrains because he feels like it’s too soon.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re everything to me, Y/N. You’re the person I want to talk to at the end of the day and the person who sees the best in me. You’ve never made me feel like I wasn’t enough and it was so stupid of me to think that you would’ve turned out to be somebody who would leave me. You’ve been so nice to me since we were kids and all I did was make you feel like you weren’t good enough.”
“Hoon—”
“I don’t want you to think I’m saying all of this to get you to feel a certain way. But fuck, I love you, and all I want is for you to be happy. You of all people deserve that at the minimum.” Sunghoon nods and sniffles. “You deserve the world and I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t.”
“I won’t say that everything’s okay,” you begin. Sunghoon nods and casts his gaze to the floor. “I’ve never felt so passionately about someone before you, Sunghoon. I don’t think I ever knew what to do about my feelings for you. It was so hard watching you date people in high school who I knew were only with you because they thought you’d become famous.
Everyday I wished you would look at me like you looked at them. And then you did, but you made me so confused when we came back that I convinced myself it must’ve been an illusion.”
“I’m sorry.”
“But I know you mean what you say.” You sigh, taking a step forward towards him. “I know you’re being honest with me. I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”
“I’m not lying about this,” Sunghoon’s wears immediately.
“I know you love me. I know because you don’t cry about things so easily. You’re resilient like that and you’ve always pushed through. The only time I saw you like this was when you didn’t qualify for that skating competition back in grade school. But even then, you just trained harder until you qualified for the next one.
What I’m trying to say is, I don’t hate you and it would feel weird if you weren’t in my life. I don’t know where that leads us but it’s only fair that I’m honest if that’s what I expected of you.”
“I want you and only you,” Sunghoon tells you. “You are the best part of me and everyone knows that too. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”
Sunghoon almost doesn’t believe it when your hands cup his jawline. He doesn’t believe he’s awake when your lips touch his and when you push yourself into him like you’re afraid you’ll fall.
He holds you delicately and reciprocates your kiss. Sunghoon doesn’t dare to push you further, allowing you to take the lead and set the pace at your own discretion. When you pull away, he looks at you with plump lips and closes his eyes when he feels your thumbs wipe away his tears.
“I love you too,” you say. “I didn’t spend all of my life crushing on you just for this not to work out.”
Sunghoon laughs for the first time with you and it makes him feel like the weight of the world is no longer on his shoulders. He holds his hand with yours and kisses your palm twice.
“We should probably let the guys back in, huh?”
“I say we should all have a movie night,” you suggest. “I mean, the five of them didn’t put up with us for nothing.”
Sunghoon opens the door and beckons all of them inside, still keeping a hold on your hand as you kick your shoes to the side.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jay says with a smile. “It’s about time!”
“We love you man,” Heeseung says as he high-fives Sunghoon. He gives you a side hug when he enters the apartment. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N.”
“So are you guys dating now?” Ryujin asks.
“We still have a lot to talk about but I think we’re on the same page,” you tell her. Sunghoon kisses the crown of your head and your friends are amused when you smile.
“Y/N suggested we should have a movie night,” Sunghoon says. “I’m down for it if you guys are.”
“I am SO raiding your liquor,” says Yuna. Jay follows in tow and starts preparing the popcorn while Heeseung fetches more blankets and pillows.
“You know,” Jake says with a smirk on his face, “this is so going in my speech when you two get married.”
You and Sunghoon choke and struggle to speak.
“M-Married?” Sunghoon stutters.
“Don’t act like you don’t fantasize about Y/N being your wife. And you,” Jake says while pointing in your direction, “don’t act like Hoon isn’t what you think about day and night.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jaeyun,” you whine with heat crawling up your cheeks. You turn to bury your face in Sunghoon’s chest.
“No, don’t hide.” He pries you off of him with a pout. “It’s cute. You’re cute.” Sunghoon kisses your cheek as Jake claps his hands.
“Just remember what I said!”
“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, waving Jake off. “Whatever you say.”
When enough time has passed for the dust to settle and for water to flow under the bridge, neither you nor Sunghoon are too surprised when Jake manages to make your friends laugh as he tells them the story of tonight after the graduation ceremony.
Jake watches as Sunghoon fixes the tassel on your cap as his mom stands to take a photo of your friend group before your life truly begins. The familiar sensation of pride swells within him when he watches the two of you, almost like it was almost meant to be.
In a way, it was.
*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･
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#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#kpop smut#enhypen scenarios#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#park sunghoon smut#sunghoon imagines#park sunghoon#sunghoon scenarios#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon#our last summer#my writing
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BOY NEXT DOOR SHIG
i actually really like this one. like might be my fav thing I've ever posted lol. slow burn i fear. ends w smut. as always
follows the American academic calendar sorry its all i know and it'll make sense why at the end
5k ish words (sorry idk how this one got so long)
warnings: uhh slow burn, smut, multiple positions, make out, dirty talk, choking, dom shig, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism
you went to college a little over an hour away from where your parents lived.
which meant you only really went home and stayed with them on school breaks. Summer, Thanksgiving, Christmas break.
You didnt think or wish to be back at your parent's house, your whole life was at college. Your friends, your stuff, your job.
That was until your parents got a new neighbor over the summer.
He was tall and kind of lanky. He had long fluffy blueish-white hair that was a little past his shoulders and always slightly in his face.
You saw him and what looked like his dad moving in.
Their new house was the one right next to your bedroom window.
Your parents went next door to introduce themselves. They came back and told you that the boy was only a year older than you and he was also in college.
You asked more questions, what school? What is his name? Does he live at home? is he on social media?
but they said they didnt know. They told you to go over and introduce yourself but you had a better idea.
You knew better then to open your bedroom window. For all you knew the new boys dad could be in the room directly next to yours.
But you did it anyway. You took down the curtains, opened the blinds and opened your window.
It was summer after all.
You never got the opportunity to talk to the boy over the summer.
You saw him in passing.
He was akward. When you saw him in the neighborhood he would give you one of those closed-mouth smiles and lift his hand in a wave. he was so hot in one of those loser-man type of ways.
You also saw him doing yard work. He never took his shirt off but he had more muscle on on than you initially thought.
Luckily, the neighbor boy also took the bedroom across from yours and he seemed to notice your open window.
Sometimes in the evenings he would open his too.
there was a little bit of distance between the houses but you could still occasionally hear the music he was listening to, you could hear him talking while he was gaming, and sometimes you would wait until he was in his bedroom with his window open to change clothes.
you hoped he would notice. maybe even take interest.
but as the summer ended and you packed up for school you knew you had to accept that it was too soon. you knew it needed time.
as the semester progressed you tried to forget the neighbor boy. you went out with you friends, you went to class, and you lived your life but he was always there in the back of your mind.
no matter where you were or what you were doing you couldn’t help but think of him. what he was doing, where he was, his long slender hands, the veins on his forearms. when you would listen to him talk to his friends. if he had a girlfriend.
obsession is a big word but you were swiftly approaching it with how often you thought about him.
when you went home for thanksgiving in mid-november you were actually ecstatic, unlike your usual sadness to have to leave your life behind. not this time, you were going to get to see him.
even if if was in passing or if it was just listing to him play video games through his window.
something was anything.
and anything was something.
just like he did over the summer he opened his window in the evening.
you tried not to stare into his house but it was much more decorated and lived in than it had been over the summer.
he had posters on his walls, better lighting, furniture arranged to be more fung shiu, and dirty clothes on the ground.
what you would do to get a hold of his dirty laundry.
he still played video games at night and listened to music.
you still changed infront off the window.
you two saw each other in passing and he did the same thing he did over the summer.
a closed mouth smile and his hand would lift up as a wave.
but now your parents and his dad were friends so they had more to tell you about him.
you had to play it cool they couldn't know that you were obsessed, no you were asking out of morbid curiosity.
your parents told you his name was tomura shigaraki. his dad adopted him, it was just the two of them, he was a year older than you and he was in computer science.
and no it did not seem like he had a girlfriend.
you had to hide your excitement.
how much did he know about you? was he even interested?
as your excitement began to dwindle and you got ready to leave home and go back to school for the last few weeks of the semester you herd someone call out your name.
you looked up and sure enough getting out of his car was the neighbor boy, tomura.
“hey! you’re (y/n) right?”
you tried to control yourself. you knew your face had to be beet red.
“oh yeah hey”
“well i just wanted to say hello" a pause. he looked around a little awkwardly, then finished his train of thought "im tomura.”
you gave a small smile “it was nice to meet you tomura, i guess ill see you around”
he did his little wave and went inside.
you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.
you couldn’t get his devious little grin out of your head.
he had to be interested. you two were the same age and the same demographic. he was a loser and you were beautiful.
if you weren’t obsessed before, now there was no denying it.
the last three weeks of the semester went by agonizingly slow. even your friends noticed your distracted demeanor.
you chose not to tell them. you didn’t want to ruin the magic. and you didn’t want to sound delusional about the neighbor you’ve been stalking and only spoken to once.
when the semester finally ended you were practically already packed and ready to head home.
you spent the entire drive trying to calm yourself down. knowing you had to play it cool around the neighbor boy. around tomura.
you got home and pulled into the driveway, you noted that his car was in his driveway.
you walked in the front door and were met with not only your parents, but also tomura and his dad.
your eyes instantly met.
you dropped the bag you were carrying.
“oh hey” you said not breaking eye contact.
“uhh what’s up” he said sounding nervous but there was no denying that he was happy to see you.
your parents introduced the two of you. he awkwardly shook your hand. you could feel how clammy they were.
your mom announced that tomura and his father would be coming to their yearly holiday party that they throw every year.
you had to rein in your excitement.
“oh, I'm excited to see you guys there”
they left and you immediately went upstairs to scream into your pillow, with your window closed of course.
the holiday party's theme was to wear holiday-esc clothes, you knew who would be there so of course you wore a little black dress and a santa hat.
you saw tomura walk in but you didn't approach him, not yet.
he was wearing a collared shirt under an oversized dark green sweater with Christmas symbols on it that looked thrifted.
you helped yourself to the access of alcohol that both your parents and their guests provided.
you had left your window closed the last few days in anticipation of seeing him tonight.
you noticed he was drinking a beer. your eyes met from across the room. he was standing next to his dad, talking to a group of neighbors.
you were talking to a different neighbor, an old lady who was telling you to dress more modestly.
you risked a glance. he was checking you out. how little you left to the imagination in your little dress.
he caught your eyes and blushed, looking away instantly. he was back into the conversation as soon as he looked away and you looked back.
you excused your self for more alcohol.
you talked to your mom
felt the warm effects of the alcohol.
made eyecontact with tomura.
talked to some more of the party guests
more prolonged eye contact.
You were laying it on thick with your "fuck me eyes"
after what felt like an eternity of dancing around each other finally, your parents were talking to him and his dad.
you joined the circle, only a little motivated by the alcohol you had been drinking all night.
the alcohol that mad the blood rush between your legs a little more than usual.
your parents were asking him about college. he answered their question but was staring at you.
"- yeah I dont really have plans after graduation I'll probably just go wherever the wind takes me kind of thing"
he didnt take his eyes off you. even after he finished talking. he was a good head taller than you. his hair had gotten longer but it still looked good on him. you noticed the contrast of his light hair against his dark eyebrows. he was well-groomed. clean shaven. you wondered what he would look like first thing in the morning with stubble and no shirt on-
"Y/n?"
"Sorry?"
"they were asking about your plans after college"
"Oh um- Im also not sure yet, Ive been looking into grad school but I'm still on the fence,"
your eyes flicked to tomura, an invitation.
"Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go get some water."
he took the bait, "I think im gonna get some water too"
he followed you to the makeshift bar on the kitchen island.
you poured yourself another drink.
he cracked open another beer
“so what are you drinking?”
he shrugged and took a sip
“doesn’t taste very good”
you simply nodded. you could feel the heat on your cheeks. all these months of thinking about him and now you have absolutely nothing to say.
“so you study-“
“can we quit it with the small talk?”
he stepped closer to you and wrapped his free a hand around your waist, he leaned down so that his mouth was right next to your ear.
he said it just quietly enough that only you could hear, “i don’t want to act like i haven’t been jerking off to you changing in front of your open window and you can’t act like you’re not the little slut who opens her window and gets naked for me.”
you flushed. your blood should be cold from the embarrassment but it wasn't.
it was the opposite.
you felt like you were on fire.
it felt like your excitement was pooling in your underwear.
you realized he was still holding on to you, he hadn't moved.
it was like you and tomura were the last two people on earth. your surroundings a blur,
"wanna get out of here"
"yes. yes please" you whispered.
"thats what i like to hear"
he took your hand and walked you to the back hallway of the party since so many people were blocking the front door and the stairs.
he stopped you in front of one of the doors.
you wanted him so bad that a drunk makeout next to the guest bedroom was enough.
your back was against the wall and one of his hands was leaning against the wall next to your head.
"do you ever think about me when you're away?" he whispers.
you run a hand down his chest. stomach. brush your fingers against something else.
something hard.
"all the fucking time" you whisper back.
he doesn't say anything.
he pins your back to the wall with his body. his hand runs through your hair.
his hand does it again.
youre looking down.
his hand grabs your jaw and forces you to look up him.
he inspects your face, eyes lingering on your lips,
and then he kisses you.
not a little gentle kiss.
your mouth is met by his wet open mouth.
your hands locked around his neck, one of his hands found your waist and the other was in your scalp.
you could feel his hard on.
you rubbed your sex on him and he sucked in a breath while kissing you.
his tongue was exploring your mouth, he wanted in while simultaneously sucking on your bottom lip and biting your tongue.
tomura was warm, he smelled like ocean and spice and laundry detergent. he was all you wanted and more.
he pulled away from the kiss and took a step away from you. he wiped your mouth with his sleeve and then wiped his.
an old man you recognized as one of your moms coworkers wandered back into the hallway.
you quickly understood why tomura just pulled away.
“this isn’t the bathroom” he said looking between the two of you.
you and tomura look at each other and fake a laugh.
his face was flushed, his hair a mess, and your there was a tint the color of your lipstick around his mouth.
"oh yeah we were just talking about college. the bathroom is that way." you pointed to where the party was happening
the man smiled and walked away.
once he was gone you and tomura went right back to what you were doing.
this one wasn’t like the first one though.
it was rougher. it was something more
tomura grabbed your jaw with one hand and squeezed your ass with the other, saying between passionate kisses,
“you have no idea how badly i’ve wanted this”
he pulled on your hair, forcing your head to angle up towards his face.
you can’t ignore his big strong hands, the length of his fingers, the veins on his arms just peeking out from under his rolled up sweater sleeves.
your santa hat must have fallen off a while ago.
his other hand on your ass kneaded it like it was bread dough.
he grabbed at your ass by the handful, pulling on the skin and fat and muscle before letting it go, occasionally feeling your waist, the swell of your hips, and then going right back in for your ass and repeating the process.
his tongue explored the inside of your mouth like it belonged to him. he sucked on your bottom lip, shoved his tongue in, sucked on your mouth with his entire mouth all in no particular order.
you pressed your hips into him and liked what you found.
with one arm wrapped around his neck, you other massaging his scalp and occasionally pulling his hair, a signal to him to come closer to you.
you moved back and into him again. grinding against him. he was hot and hard.
you removed your hand from his scalp and palmed his member.
he pulled off your mouth but not your body and let out a shaky breath.
“if we start with that i won’t be able to stop” he whispered into your hair.
“who said that’s a bad thing” you whipered back.
you could feel his smile against you even though you couldn’t see his face, “i never said it was bad but maybe we should find somewhere more private”
“can we sneak out to your place?”
this was when he pulled his body off of yours and you could see his smirk, “i think that’s a great idea.”
the two of you tried to tidy each other up as best as you could but there was no denying the fact the the two of you just did something. both of your cheeks were flushed, hair was ruffled, and clothes disheveled.
there was also no denying his excitement. you pulled his sweater down to help him attempt the hide the tent in his pants.
he mumbled out a "thanks" and looked away blushing.
he walked out into the party first, raising his eyebrows at you as he said to meet him outside in ten minutes.
you counted to 100 before entering the party so as not to look suspicious.
you didn’t want your parents old and nosy friends know yours and tomura’s business.
you found your parents and stood in on their conversation. casually looking around every chance you got to find him. you spotted him in the kitchen standing next to his dad talking to a woman.
he was standing with his hands in his pockets, slouching, his cheeks still pink, his lips a little swollen, and his his looked like someone had just ran their hands through it.
you noticed you were staring. then you noticed he was staring at you too. he gave you a small smile and he pointed his head toward the front door.
you gave him a small nod in agreement.
you whispered to your mom that you were going to go sit outside and to not worry about you.
she had a few drinks in her system and was more concerned about her holiday party than whatever nonsense her daughter was up to, so it was easy to slip away.
you instantly started walking towards the front door when you felt a hand grab yours. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
the next five minutes were a blur.
your hand in his.
running over to his house.
his frantic effort to unlock the front door.
instantly making out against the front door once inside.
running up the stairs with him right behind you.
hands intertwined.
barely making it to his room before, once again, aggressively making out against his closed bedroom door.
tomura peeled your desss off in one fluid motion and picked you up throwing, you on his bed.
he whipped his sweater off, and climbed on top of you.
you began to undo the buttons on his white button down but he stopped you,
"ah ah, not yet. its my turn"
he pulled one of your breasts out of your bra, nipple already hard, and put his mouth around your nipple.
his right hand finds yours, interlocking fingers and pressing you to the bed.
his left hand finds your other breast and kneads on it. pulling on your nipple, grabbing the flesh with his palm and fingers.
all while milking your other.
his mouth sucking and teeth bruising there was nothing you could do to conceal the unholy wimpers he coaxed out of you.
his eyes find yours.
“look at me” he says then resumes what he was doing.
your mind couldn't form coherent thoughts.
the only thing you could focus on was the pleasure you were experiencing at his hands.
and mouth.
your hips find his.
you could feel his rock-hard member in his pants.
your free hand finds his member between the two of you and you rub your hand up and down him over his pants.
he inhales shakily.
"mmm not yet" he whispered into your breast.
he maneuvers to switch sides, his mouth now on the opposite breast and his hand cupping the breast his mouth was just on.
your back arches and you moan as his mouth makes contact.
you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his again.
he bit your nipple in response, getting a yelp out of you.
you knew for sure by now that you were soaked through your panties.
since Tomura had taken your dress off your arousal was evident but his attention was still on your breasts.
he was holding one of your hands and the other was in his hair, nails scratching circles on his scalp and occasionally pulling on his hair.
your hips still moving against his you gave a tug on his hair for his attention.
he kept his mouth where it was but stopped what he was doing, lazily looking up.
you pet his hair and whispered "can we please?" pushing your hips into his for emphasis.
he raised his eyebrows slowly.
he removed his mouth from your nipple dramatically with a loud sucking noise.
he sat up and switched the position he was in to now hold down both of your wrists with one of his hands and to hold your hips down with the other,
"I said not yet,"
and he turned his attention to the nipple he had previously been working on.
you thought you couldn't have been more aroused but with his new found control over you? you could have come just from the sight of him.
your hips struggled against his arm, seeking any form of release as you whimpered in pleasure from the love he gave to your nipple.
you came out of your trance and realized he was still fully clothed and you were still wearing your bra and underwear.
he removed himself from you slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and pushing his mane of hair out of his face.
you were breathing heavily and slightly disoriented from what he had just done.
"lets get rid of these, shall we?"
he started to pull off your underwear. and you went ahead and removed your bra.
"it cant be fair that im the only one who's naked?"
you motioned to him still being almost fully dressed save for the sweater he had been wearing over his now half unbuttoned button-down shirt.
shigaraki sighed and began unbuttoning his shirt
"I thought you preferred to be naked?" he looked up at you and smirked "or are you just a show off?"
you didnt really have a good response to his call out so all you could do was stare at him.
you watched him undress making sure to emphasize one of your signature looks, the fuck me eyes.
he definitely noticed your gaze.
he smirked back at you as he stood up and shucked off his pants.
Leaving him in nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers.
your favorite.
he crawled back onto the bed and sat on his knees in between your legs, where you lay on your back. head propped up with pillows and still panting from what his magic mouth and fingers just did with your nipples.
he locked eyes with you, hooked his hands underneath your knees, and pulled your bottom half up to him.
he pushed your legs up, essentially folding you in half as he brought his mouth down to yours.
He kissed you sweetly and deeply. with care but also disrespect like he would stop if you asked you him to but you were pulling him closer, scratching his back, and grinding against his member.
so he squeezed your thigh, groped your boob a little tighter, and explored the cavern of your mouth a bit deeper with his tongue.
his hand previously on your tit found your throat. he choked you as his mouth pulled from yours.
the pressure of his hand caused your mouth to open, searching for air and only getting a little bit of it.
he squeezed tighter as he licked down the column of your neck and back up.
kissing your mouth lightly one last time as he released your throat and started kissing down your body.
kissing down to your soaking wet sex.
his hand stroked your face at first. he kissed your jaw, your neck, your chest, booth boobs, your navel, then he found the space between your legs. he lifted your legs over his shoulders and started kissing you there too.
he kissed your clit similarly to how he kissed your mouth at first. softly. respectfully. passionately. like he was waiting for permission.
you gave it to him by grabbing a handful of hair and rubbing yourself against his face. you could feel his nose and his smirk on your sweet spot.
he took your invitation, and you could hear him inhale through his nose he grabbed two handfuls of your ass and went to work.
with his mouth on your clit you could feel him sucking on it, lapping his tongue against it, and eventually sticking two fingers into your sopping entrance.
you couldn't hold your moans in. especially once his veiny, long-fingered hand was pumping in and out.
your first orgasm didnt even build it just ripped through you, without anything you could have done to stop it.
shigaraki, satisfied enough with his handy work sat up and whipped your wet from his mouth with the back of his hand.
you could have orgasmed again from the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair in the ambient lighting of his bedroom.
"your so fucking hot" you couldn't stop yourself from saying.
his hazy eyes found yours "You should see yourself right now" he gave you that smirk after he said it.
there was no hiding his arousal. he pulled his boxers down and his member sprang free.
he was hung.
8 inches long and thick.
all you could do was stare your mouth slightly open and your blood pumping between your legs.
"you like what you see i take it," he says that fucking smirk on his face.
all you could do was nod your head.
he spits on the tip and starts pumping himself as he moves forward toward you.
he hooks his arm under your right leg and maneuvers himself between your legs.
"you ready?"
you hum in response
"mmm i need a yes"
"yes, I am ready"
"good girl, thats what i like to hear,"
he inserts himself slowly, you feel the familiar sting of being stretched out
tomura pauses, looking at you as if asking permission to continue.
your hand is covering your mouth but you nod for him to continue.
he does.
you look down to see that he is not even halfway in.
"oh my god" you whisper "its so fucking big"
he just smiles, not losing his focus on what he is doing.
once hes almost all the way in he pauses again, looking at you for permission to continue.
"can you start moving slowly?"
he doesn't acknowledge your words other than thrusting in and out as slowly as he can,
with each thrust in you couldnt with hold your whimpers.
tomura was slowly increasing speed and how deep he was going,
"is this okay" he asked his breath slightly shaking
"oh my god yea" you struggle to get out
he pushes the leg hooked. under his arm up higher and finally bottoms out in you,
you both moan.
"fuck, youre so tight,"
"you youre so big"
his hand hound your face and stroked your cheek before he took your jaw in his hand,
"youre so fucking beautiful"
you could feel your heart flutter in your chest as he pounded in and out of you and an unholy speed.
"lets switch positions"
you hum in response, so fucked out that you couldn't form coherent words.
he grabs a pillow and flips you over, shoving the pillow underneath your hips.
he taps the small of your back, you spread your knees and arch your back for him, grabbing one of the other pillows to hold in your arms.
tomura grabs hold of your hips and inserts himself, going in smoother this time.
just because the entry was easier did not mean the new angle was any mind boggling.
and tomura was not holding himself back in the slightest, he moaned once he was all the way in and wasted no time in absolutely fucking the shit out of you.
you didnt know it was possible for a human being to experience pleasure like this. your second orgasm of the night rips through you with an inhuman moan.
tomura gathers up your hair and pulls you toward him,
"came again so soon? thats my girl"
he wraps one hand around your throat the other finds your shoulder to use as leverage as he continues to fuck you from behind.
his thrusts begin to stutter losing speed and consistency,
"im close i wanna see your face"
"okay" you say through breaths
he once again flips you over, pumping himself as you readjust the pillows under your head and hips,
tomura heaves your legs up and enters you one last time.
your hands find the back of his head and you pull his face up to yours as he resumes his no longer consistent pace.
his hand finds your throat and your other hand finds his bicep, squeezing at the cords of muscle,
you look up at him slowly, from the sight of his cock entering in and out of you, his muscular upper body, to his big red eyes staring down at you. watching you watch him.
one last orgasm rips through you, starting in your stomach and then spreading to your core and to the rest of your body.
tomura finishes at the same time as you, pulling out and coming all over your stomach and boobs.
the two of you just sit there for a moment. both of you breathing heavy. both of you fucked out of your minds.
tomura is the first to break the silence.
he swallows and rubs his jaw,
"do you think we should go back to the party because I kind of want to do that again?"
m.list
#shigaraki smut#lov smut#mha fanfiction#mha smut#shigaraki x you#yandere shigaraki#mha headcanons#shigaraki tomura#bnha shigaraki#shigaraki x reader#mha shigaraki
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moonlight & heartbeats
Hunter x Fem!Reader
Summary: A year after being rescued by Hunter from near-death on Tantiss, your peaceful life on Pabu is plagued with rampant nightmares. Hunter, now your close friend, senses your distress one night and comes to check on you.
Word count: ~5.5k
Warnings/tags: SMUT (piv sex, fingering, oral, dirty talk), hurt/comfort, mutual pining, mentioned violence, friends to lovers trope, Hunter cheesily senses reader’s heartbeat, the usual “use of his abilities” smut tropes, sorry not sorry<3
A/N - this has maybe more backstory than necessary but I decided my porn would have SOME plot this time. Enjoy <3
Partially requested by @yunggoblin. Hunter uses his hearing more than his scent here but still goes along with your prompt :)
The rain poured relentlessly from the darkened sky. Your clothes now weighed heavy upon your beaten figure. The metal beneath your knees felt more unforgiving by the second. The trooper behind you, a clone trooper, held you by your shoulder, keeping you firmly in place.
Your trembling body barely had the strength to sit upright as you painfully craned your neck upward to the steel blaster barrel now level with your forehead. Just moments before, you were sheltering from the attack on the base inside Hemlock’s ship that you were repairing. A mechanic. You were just a mechanic. They’d accused you of treason, and there was no right to a fair trial if they’d thought you betrayed your mighty employer.
"The Empire thanks you for your service" The well-dressed Imperial officer spoke blankly as his finger hovered over the trigger. You’d never even seen him before, and somehow he held the right to take your life.
Your heart sat uncomfortably in your throat as your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the final breath you'd ever take.
Just as the blaster fired, your vision went hazy, and your eyes flashed open.
You found yourself sitting upright in your bed, panting frantically as a bead of sweat dripped down your temple. You grasped at your chest like it would help you breathe better, but you knew it was useless. It was only the third time this week you'd had the same nightmare, or at least, some variation of it. Usually in your nightmare, you were in the rain, as it truly happened. Other times you found yourself elsewhere on Tantiss base. Regardless, the dream always ended with a blaster at your head, reliving what you thought was going to be your final moments.
That is, if you had not been rescued by Clone Force 99. Had it not been for Hunter stealthily jumping into action. He didn't know you, not at the time. He saw a woman seconds away from execution and didn't think twice. You wonder, though, why he saved a woman in imperial dressings. What about you made him see you differently among every other imperial he and his squad killed without hesitation that day on Tantiss?
You were a mechanic for the Empire, and barely one at that. You were in training at the time of your near-execution. Somehow, your skills working on speeders on your outer-rim home world caught the attention of an Imperial Admiral during their invasion of your planet. You didn't have much choice, but you tried to make the best of it.
A few weeks into your job, you were accused of tampering with the safety of Admiral Tarkin's ship. It wasn't true, but your word meant nothing once you were accused. Truthfully, you never signed up for what the Empire had planned for you anyway.
Almost a year had passed since that day, but it never seemed to get any easier. The warm and happily endless days in your new home on Pabu were an oasis compared to your days serving the Empire. Unfortunately, though, even in a paradise of unbothered territory, the Empire still held you in its grasp with these unrelenting nightmares.
Your head rested heavily in your palms as you leaned over the side of the bed. Your roommate was thankfully gone for the night, so you were confident that no one heard your panting and muffled pleas for mercy in your sleep.
The beating of your heart began to pump the breaks ever so slowly. Looking around your home, you felt comfort in knowing you were safe. It always took you a few moments to let it sink in:
It wasn’t real.
The Empire cannot hurt you.
You are safe.
Your attempted solitude was abruptly halted by a sudden knock at the door. You rubbed your face to gather your composure before walking to the door and cracking it open.
Hunter’s face, illuminated by the glow of the moonlight, came into view. Your heart skipped a beat. His presence was always welcomed, but no matter how close you were to Hunter, he always gave the gentlest butterflies.
“Hunter, wh-” You began, your voice rough from sleep.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He spoke gently, his eyes heavy with worry. He cared so deeply for you.
You couldn’t bring yourself to answer that question verbally. Pulling the door open, you gestured for him to come inside.
He entered, hesitantly. His eyes not so subtly traveled the length of your body, barely covered by the silk nightgown you wore. His jaw clenched as he made himself look away.
“Sorry, I’ll cover up” You said frantically, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Scrambling to find a tunic, he politely interrupted you.
“No, please” He begged. There was a hint of desire in his tone that you chose to dismiss, “I mean, it’s your home. Don’t worry about me”. His eyes still wandered. Hunter couldn’t peel his eyes away from your exposed skin. At least not completely before finally finding your gaze and holding it.
Setting down the tunic, you crossed your arms, nodding in agreement.
“I’ve…been better. Just a…bad dream is all” You struggled with your words, answering his initial question.
“I, um, sensed that you were…distressed” He started, nervously, “Sorry, It’s not by choice. But I couldn’t ignore it”.
It was no surprise that he could tell. The villa you were housed in was side by side with Hunter and Crosshair’s villa, with Hunter’s bunk being on just the other side of the thin walls of your own room. It wasn’t a lot of space, but it was graciously gifted to you by the Pabu government, and you were grateful.
But although it wasn’t surprising, you were startled by the idea that he could sense your nerves and heartbeat through the wall.
What else could he sense? What could he hear?
“What were you doing awake? It’s the middle of the night” You countered, shaking your head subtly, wearing a soft smile in admiration of his concern and derailing from the topic only slightly.
He sighed and sat himself on your bunk, “Was having some bad dreams myself” he confessed, his elbows resting on his thighs. You followed suit, sitting on your bunk next to him.
You nodded and let the silence between you fill the small space for a moment. It wasn't awkward. It never was with him.
“It’s been a year. I just…I can’t shake how real it feels. Every single time I have this dream -- it’s like I’m right back on Tantiss, staring up through the barrel of a blaster. But…in my dream— my nightmare—you never come to save me” You breathe out, almost choking on the last part.
Hunter’s brows furrow with concern and pain. He thought it over for a few seconds, reliving that moment when he saved your life, shooting the officer dead where he stood as well as the troopers surrounding you. His face twisted in sorrow once more before he spoke again.
“I see Tech” He began, his voice broken, “Every time I close my eyes to sleep. Over and over again, I see him die”
“Oh, Hunter” your voice cracks with his name falling off your lips. Your heart broke for him, for the others. You never had the pleasure of knowing Tech, but from the endless stories the others in the squad had to share, you knew he was extraordinary.
Hunter's eyes remained on the ground for a moment before looking over to meet your gaze. He reached out and rested his hand upon your knee. You were ashamed to admit that the gentlest of his touch was electrifying to you.
“I know what it’s like” He consoled you, “it’s terrible”.
You nodded and stared into him, communicating more in your expression than what your words could provide.
“That trauma — it’s a part of me now”
“It is. But it does not define you” Hunter countered, “That’s what I tell Omega. Shes a tough kid but…she’s haunted by the Empire, too”
You thought of her and smiled. Over the past year, you'd grown close to all of them and were so happy to have them in your life.
Hunter always tended to you back when you were trying to adjust to life on the island. He used check on you several times a day, just to see if you were okay. He still does occasionally, but he’s given you more space as time has passed. He was a good and caring friend.
A Friend.
You chuckled to yourself at the thought of that word. It wasn’t even a week after you met him that you’d fallen head over heels for him. He blissfully plagued your every waking thought. Often you’d worry that he noticed your fixation on him, and were weary of his possible rejection. Other times, you’d hoped he noticed and would do something about it.
There were lingering glances, brushes against one another in a hallway, kind and flattering words exchanged…but you’d both been too afraid to act on it. You accepted that it may never be anything more than that, but it wasn’t without disappointment. Everyone around you, the other guys specifically, all noticed the tension between you two, but it never affected your friendship.
“Can I ask you a question?” You broke the silence, seemingly curious in your tone.
“Anything” Hunter quickly responded.
“Is this the first time you’ve sensed that I was… distressed in the middle of the night?”
Slowly, he sat up straight, “Yes…and no” He answered, hesitantly. You swallowed hard in anticipation of what you already assumed.
You tilted your head at him inquisitively.
“It's your heart rate. But I uh...I don’t think it’s always nightmares" He trailed off, cautious of what he was insinuating. Your heart sunk to your belly. Surely he didn't mean that he could sense when you pleasured yourself?
"What do you mean, Hunter?” You pried, hoping to get him to bring it up first.
“I shouldn't have said anything. I was just worried about you and wanted to check in" He hurried through his explanation, standing to his feet and walking toward the door to look out your window.
Your cheeks burned red with both excitement and embarrassment.
"Sometimes it's the best way to get to sleep" You indirectly admitted, shrugging your shoulders and letting a playful smile sneak upon your face, “Don’t you do it, too?” You casually suggested.
His eyes snapped back to where you sat on your bed.
Touching yourself was the best way to relax. Truthfully, you were starving for Hunter’s touch instead, and you had been yearning for him all this time. It was always him that you thought of when your curious fingers traveled in between your legs.
Hunter swallowed hard, feeling the delicate tension in the air.
“Well, of course I do, I-“ he stumbled over his words.
“Hunter, it’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it” You reassured him, cutting him off before he felt any more flustered.
You approached him at the window, feeling so dangerously close as you placed your hand on his arm.
“Thank you for checking on me. I’m okay” You offered a gentle and reassuring smile.
“I want to protect you, cyar’ika. You mean a lot to me and I…sometimes I don’t know how to help”
Hearing endearing terms in Mando’a always melted your heart.
“Just having you around is enough protection for me”
“I’m on the other side of the wall if you ever need me. You know that”
“I know” You nodded, but couldn’t seem to break your attention away from his face. The tattooed side, something you’d always adored, was lit once again by the brightened moon. Stars, he was so beautiful.
It was a mutual exchange of a longing expression between you two. Hunter’s eyes searched your gaze for any hesitation as you both leaned into each other. Your body pressed firm against him as your hands rested on the back of his neck. In the quiet of your room, it was you who could hear your own heartbeat now.
His lips landed blissfully upon yours, sending a radiating current through your body. You sucked in a sharp breath, overcome with the feeling of this sudden intimate contact. You kissed him back delicately, letting your mouth become barely familiar with his after so much longing for this exact feeling. You pulled away only slightly, seeing if he had any urge to stop. You looked up at him, searching for any sense of regret but found none. Hunter’s eyes were hungry for you...so much more of you.
“Y/N…” he started, his voice low and desperate.
You ached for him. Maker…you had ached for him for so terribly long. His lips on any part of your body were near close enough to send you into a frenzy. As your lips returned to his, Hunter’s arms found themselves wrapped around your barely clothed waist, pulling you closer to him, and deepening the kiss.
Your fingers found the hem of his shirt ready to remove it, eager to continue this further. To your puzzling surprise, he stopped you.
“Oh, I-“ You began, flustered and confused.
“Mesh’la” he groaned.
“I’m sorry”
“No, don’t be. I just…I can’t” He strained through his words, shutting his eyes for a moment, finding it difficult to reject you but forcing himself to do so.
As you stood there confused, he looked at you with a wordless apology on his face.
“Goodnight, Y/N. I'm right here if you need me” He concluded, gently planting a kiss on your forehead before seeing himself out.
Emptiness consumed you as you stood alone in your villa. Had you done something wrong? Surely not, it was clear he wanted you too, but something stopped him.
With such worry on your mind, you laid awake for a while before your fatigue finally took you over, sending you into a deep sleep.
————————————
“Have a nice day!” You called out to your last customer of the day. You loved your job working in the marketplace in the city square. It was a peaceful and rewarding existence.
Throughout the day, memories of the night before played like a broken holoscan in your mind. You could still feel his lips against yours, devouring you. It was hard not to smile as you reminisced about the feeling, but your smile would quickly fade as you remembered how it ended.
The sun casted an amber glow over the sea, letting you know the day was near over. The entire day had passed without seeing Hunter, which made you anxious. You wanted to see him. To talk to him. To apologize for trying to go too far.
As you processed these thoughts, you felt a presence approach your booth.
Hunter.
“Oh, hi!” You said surprised.
“Hi” He began, his smile warm, “can we talk?”
“Sure. I’m just closing up for the day”, You grinned back to him.
“I’ll be at our spot by the cove” He said, pointing toward the side of the island where your secret spot was. Only you, the guys, and Omega really knew about it.
You nodded before hurrying to finish closing your shop. Never had you packed that quickly before.
You arrived on the shore, in the hidden cove on the beach to find Hunter sitting alone on the boulder.
“Hey stranger” You said, approaching him.
“Hey, you” He smiled. Maybe with anyone else, this would be awkward. But with Hunter, somehow it wasn’t.
“Everything okay?” You questioned.
“I wanted to apologize about last night” He started, not making eye contact at first, but finding your eyes shortly after.
“It’s okay, Hunter, really. I understand” You responded, not entirely sure what you were understanding. Truthfully, you still weren’t sure why he stopped you last night.
“I don’t think you do, sweetheart”
You sat next to him on the boulder, leaving a bit of space between you two, contrary to how close you’d found yourself the night before.
“I had to stop myself” He continued.
“Why?”
“I care about you” He sighed.
“I know you do, Hunter. I don’t see why that made you want to stop what we had started” You countered, growing flustered, shifting your hips slightly.
“Because no matter how hard it is for me to resist you, I cannot take advantage of you like that”
“Wha— you’re not taking advantage of me, Hunter” You subtly scoffed in disbelief.
“I want you. Make no mistake about that” He said confidently yet softly, sending a tingling feeling through your veins.
“I want you too. I think about you…a lot” You began, letting your tone lead his mind toward the deeper meaning of your words.
Hunter looked over to you and raised his eyebrows in curiosity.
“I don’t want to mess up what we have” He admitted, disappointingly, “you mean too much to me”
You wanted to fight it. You wanted him. But he made a fair point. Was it worth running the risk of ruining your friendship?
You nodded, offering no further comment on the situation. It made your heart ache terribly, but you couldn’t risk losing him due to your mutual desires.
“I’m lucky to have you, Hunter” You said, scooting closer to him before leaning your head on his shoulder.
“Me too, sweetheart. Me too” He concurred.
The sunset on Pabu had never felt so bittersweet. As its warmth and glow made a gradual exit, you felt any chance of something more with Hunter disappearing with it. You sat and talked with him for another hour, chatting about the weather and how his job on the island was going, and you were just grateful for his presence, even if you’d never feel his lips upon yours again.
Returning home some time later, you noticed your roommate had left you a transmission.
“Sorry, still off-world, be back tomorrow!”
You felt relieved. Having privacy was rare but welcomed and appreciated.
The steaming shower in your refresher washed the day away from your body. You didn’t bother to put on your clothes, as you preferred to sleep naked anyway. As you sunk into your bed, you feared this would be another night of endless tossing and turning.
To make matters worse, you couldn’t stop feeling Hunter’s lips on yours. Over and over again, you kept feeling the tingling sensation that came over you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You were already wet just thinking about it, but as you rubbed your legs tightly together, you provided a friction that lit a fire in your lower belly.
He’d know if I masturbated, you thought. He’d sense it.
“Fuck it” You whispered to yourself.
Your fingertips found their place where they always did, right atop your sensitive bud. Rhythmically, you rubbed delicate circles around your clit, just beginning to tend to your aching needs. You whimpered softly. So softly that even you barely heard it.
What you were doing was going to drive him crazy. You knew that. The walls were thin, and he’d already told you that he’d sensed something in your heartbeat other than your nightmares before. But you’d be dammed if you’ll be left unsatisfied after the tease you’d felt last night.
You rocked your hips upwards into your own touch, biting your lip to suppress noises any louder than a heavy breath, especially with what you knew now. Visions of Hunter came to you as you fantasized. You pictured his fingers touching you like this, his body on top of yours.
Slowly, you felt your climax creeping toward you, inching closer like a looming threat. As you covered your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your orgasm was suddenly ripped away from you at the sound of a knock on your door.
You froze.
“Y/N” Hunter’s voice rang quietly from the other side.
Quickly, you pulled the covers to shield your naked body.
“Come in” you boldly called out. Sure, your door definitely should have been locked, but, you never worried for your safety here.
Hunter opened the door with caution. His eyes met yours immediately. As he closed it behind him, he leaned against the door as he took in the sight of you.
“Not a nightmare this time, was it?” He slyly suggested.
“No” you breathed, your heart now certainly beating in your throat.
He walked to your bed, slowly, “Tell me, mesh’la, all those times you’ve pleasured yourself, did you think I couldn’t hear those pretty little noises you make when you come?”
You stared at him, eyes heavy with intense lust and hint of blissful shame. There was a primal desire in his expression and demeanor, something you’d not seen but only a hint of last night, but it was undeniable tonight.
“Every time you touch yourself, I know” He whispered, “And you know what else? Every time you touch yourself, I can’t help but touch myself, too” He admitted, hovering above your bed, looking down to your delicately covered body. You melted at the image of him masturbating and getting off on the idea of you pleasuring yourself too.
“Hunter” you breathed.
“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what you want” He begged you. Hunter needed you to give him the green light he desperately needed.
“Please, fuck me” You begged shamelessly, “I can’t take it anymore. I need you”
Within the same second that the words left your lips, he was in bed above you, your lips tangled within his. He kissed you passionately, his tongue slipping into yours, exploring you further. You moaned at the satisfaction of his raw desire, picking right back up from where you left off. One hand held him up while the other ran through your hair. As you stayed covered beneath him, you reached up to grab his face and pull him into you and the kiss deepened between you.
The presence of his body above you pulled the blanket down, revealing your bare breasts. Hunter pulled away from your lips to look down at the sight. He growled lowly in approval and pent up urge to see you like this.
“Cyare” he whimpered, releasing his hand from your face down to cup your breast. He then redirected his attention to your stiffened nipples, taking one into his mouth, causing a gentle cry to fall from your lips.
With his mouth still upon your breast, he pulled the blanket completely off your body, tossing it to the floor, exposing your skin to the chilled air.
Maker, he was eager…so incredibly eager to see you fully bare beneath him. Every inch of your skin on display. Something he’d only dreamed of. Something that fueled every fantasy he had while he stroked his cock mere inches from you on the other side of the wall. And here you were, right beneath him, laid out pretty, just for him.
“You are so beautiful, sweetheart” He praised you, leaning back to fully take in the view. Swiftly, he removed his shirt, revealing the chiseled, beautifully scarred body beneath it. You stared in awe at his physique, your heart skipping a beat.
"Spread your legs for me, baby", He instructed. You obeyed, opening your legs to provide him better access to where you desperately ached for him the most. The moonlight gleaming through your window was enough to offer you both the light you needed. As Hunter caught sight of your pussy, already slick with desire for him, his face turned in pure adoration.
"Touch me, please, Hunter" You begged, feeling as though you could do nothing but beg him in this state of arousal. You were his. All his.
FIngertips trailed softly up your thigh before reaching the wetness between your legs. Hunter whimpered as he felt you.
"Oh sweetheart, is this all for me?" He asked, beginning to rub your clit gently while he whispered into your ear. Chills erupted down your body.
"It's for you. It's always for you" You responded breathlessly, letting your words flow in between your cries of pleasure. Hunter applied more pressure before inserting two fingers inside of you. While he does this, he watches you, enamored with the way your face twists in pleasure, all from his hands. Not yours this time — his.
With a curl of his fingers and a steady pace, Hunter fucks you with his fingers. His thumb remains at your clit, stimulating you beyond what you're used to. No one had paid this much attention to your body before.
His lips returned to yours, stifling a moan that escaped you as you felt your orgasm quickly approaching.
"I'm so c-close" You choked on your words muttered against his supple lips. The bundled coil in your lower abdomen threatened to burst at any second.
"I can feel you tightening around me. Come on my fingers, mesh'la" He encouraged you.
Hearing Hunter talk to you like this, after so long of being just friends, was exhilarating. His words alone were enough to push you over the edge, but the way he worked his hands to pleasure you was so good. Too good.
Your climax unraveled, washing over you gracefully, starting at your core and radiating like a fire throughout your entire body. Profanities flew from your lips as you instinctively rolled your hips against his palm.
"That's it, princess, right there" He coaxed you gently, unrelenting in the curling of his fingers, fucking you steadily through your orgasm, "good girl".
As you came down from the pure euphoria with stars dancing in your eyes, Hunter was careful to pull his fingers out of you slowly. Holding your gaze, he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you and savoring it like a last meal.
You leaned up, propping yourself on your elbows. Hunter stood, quickly pulling the hem of his pants down before removing them completely. You audibly gasped at his size when his cock came into view. Hunter was smirking as your eyes travelled back up to his gaze.
As he stood beside your bed, you got on your hands and knees and put your mouth level with his length. Hunter melted when your tongue licked up the side of his cock. His eyes fell closed when you took him into your mouth completely, or at least, as much as you could. You started to suck him off, using your tongue to guide your motions.
You peered up at him, watching his face twist in ecstasy as you bobbed your head back and forth. With a swirling of your tongue on his tip, you felt his hips twitch subtly.
“Fuck, Y/N. Just like that. Suck my cock” He growled through his pleasure, using a tone you’d usually only heard when he gave orders. This was an order you’d follow any day without question, “That’s my girl”, he praised through his clenched jaw.
His hand rested on your head, gently guiding you in your motions. The sound of his soft little whimpers that quickly turned into deeper groans made your cunt ache for him even more. You clenched your walls around nothing, pitifully empty and needing to be filled. As you moved your hand to your clit to relieve the ache, he reached down your back and plunged two fingers into your pussy from behind. You cried out, sending vibrations over his cock as you tried to still focus on his pleasure.
He pumped his fingers at a faster pace than before, sending you into a overstimulated frenzy and you couldn’t take it anymore. You pulled your mouth from him, desperately catching your breath and crying out his name.
“Fuck, Hunter, don’t stop” You begged him, but instead he disobeyed your request, removing his fingers completely.
Without struggle or hesitation, Hunter lifted you and placed you on your back on the bed. He positioned himself in between your trembling legs. He kissed you passionately once more while lining his cock at your entrance.
The whole world fell silent for you as your bodies seemingly fused together. You’d dreamed of this moment, this intimacy with Hunter, for so long. To have him inside of you was the most erotic experience you’d ever had. He bottomed out slowly, both of your mouths agape, overwhelmed by the pleasure and the connection you felt in that moment.
There was only a slight tinge of discomfort as he filled you completely. You winced only a little, before it was replaced by pure pleasure.
“Mesh’la” he moaned deeply, “You..ugh…you take me so well” he praised you through his expressions of pleasure.
“Feels so good, Hunter” you whine, staring deep into eyes, seducing him further.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to feel you like this?” He whispered against your ear before moving his lips down to your neck, kissing softly at your skin while he thrust deeper and faster.
You choked on your moans as his change in pace overwhelmed you. The room was filled with your whimpers, along with the irresistible sound of Hunter’s rough and deep moans.
“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this” Hunter’s praises lit a fire within you, and he could tell, encouraging him more.
You lifted your knees, pressing them against his chest, allowing him to slide inside of you at an even better angle. You cried out, overstimulated and overfilled in the most amazing way. The thin walls were no match for how good you made each other feel, but you cared very little about who heard you.
The year long pent up tension between you two was unraveling beautifully as he fucked you like he was making up for all that lost time.
With one hard thrust, he stopped, holding his cock fully sheathed in your cunt, “Gonna come on my cock, princess? Make those pretty little sounds for me?” He teased, grinding his hips hard against your thighs. Held inside you like this, he brushed against your most sensitive spot, driving you crazy.
You were drunk off him, drunk off his words, drunk off his body. You could barely form a response, but offered him a nod as you felt your next release building quickly inside of you. Maybe he just loved to tease you endlessly, because he then pulled out of you, making you whine pitifully at the sudden loss of his cock and your orgasm.
He was firm yet gentle with your body as he flipped you over flat on your stomach. Similar to how he reacted to your breasts, he growled at the sight of your ass, grabbing a handful to admire as he ran his other hand down your back.
He leaned down, his cock resting on your ass, and he moved your hair from your face, pulling you into a passionate kiss as he sunk himself into your pussy from behind. You moaned against his lips, so satisfied with being filled again.
He continued his pace from before, fucking you with raw desire to claim you. Hips slapped firm against the skin of your ass as Hunter grabbed your waist for even better leverage.
“Hunter!”, You cried out, “right there…right there…I’m gonna come”
Never would he dare to stop now. The sounds he emitted grew louder and more inconsistent, and you could tell he was close too.
The fire that burned inside you erupted into the a burst of absolute ecstasy. It took over every fiber of your being as your vision went hazy. A slew of profanities flew from your lips while your body convulsed, your cunt pulsing around his cock as you came harder than you ever had felt before.
“Yessss, good fucking girl, come for me just like that” He cursed, grinding and pounded hard to chase his own release as well. You tightened your walls for him, pushing him closer, even though you never wanted this to end.
You were breathless beneath him, still taking his cock like you were made for it.
“Come inside me, Hunter. Please” You pleaded. It seems your words sent him over his limit, because as the words left your mouth, his hips faltered and his breath grew shaky. Hunter filled you, coming deep inside you, marking you like he wished he’d done a long time ago.
Together you caught your breath slowly. Hunter was careful to remove himself gently, knowing that you’d be sensitive, as was he. You winced as the last inch of him left you. Exhaustion overtook your body as you lay there, floating on a high like no other.
Hunter laid down next you, your bodies pressed closely together on the small bed. You turned to your side, looking up at him in pure adoration.
“Y/N…” Hunter broke the silence that was only filled with panting as you both tried to catch your breath, “you are…so perfect”
“So are you” You smiled at him.
“I’m never letting you go. That’s a promise” He assured you. The words brought you comfort, and you truly believed him.
It wasn’t but shortly after that you both drifted into a deep sleep, holding each other close while your minds rested. The sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted, as neither of you had nightmares that night.
——
A/N: Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!❤️
Thank you for reading 😊
#hunter#tbb#the bad batch#sergeant hunter#hunter smut#tbb smut#bad batch fanfic#bad batch smut#clone force 99#clone wars#hunter x reader#sergeant hunter x reader#sergeant hunter x reader smut#fluff#one shot#hurt/comfort#my work#Star Wars fanfic#cw#tcw
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Would I be the asshole to have a luxurious celibacy party with my (ex) future in law's money instead of a wedding ? 👰👯
Sorry for any grammar mistake, English is not my first language.
My(29F) partner(29M) of 12 years cheated on me. I caught him a few months before the wedding and called everything off.
My ask is more about my in-laws and appearing like a gold digger so I will spend some time explaining my relationship with them. I don't care about what my ex thinks. He is dead to me.
My ex's family is old money, mine is blue collar. His family has always been really nice and welcoming.
Aside from a few family vacations paid for me here and there, I never benefited financially from their wealth. For gift-giving occasions they were tactfully giving me sentimental gifts, so I could return the favor and match with them in term of budget.
His parents wanted to teach their future heir the value of money, and he didn't have access to the family funds during his studies. They were even frugal in his allowance (he obv couldn't qualify for scholarship) and we both had to take jobs during our studies to support ourselves (my scholarships didn't cover for all expenses). I got my diploma before him (shorter studies) and supported him financially during the last three years of his studies. He has had a (very) high earning job and access to family funds for a year.
When he finished his studies, we started to plan for the wedding.
His family wanted an extravagant wedding, I would have preferred a smaller event, my fiance had no opinion. I finally accepted because it made his family so happy, and like I said they have always been very good to me. I even ended up having a lot of fun with my ex MIL and SIL planning for things. I mostly referred to them as what was a "must have" for a wedding even if most of this seemed like a rich people extravagance to me.
The plan was for us (me and cheater) to pay 50% of the wedding. My parents were paying for 5% (I wouldn't dare tell them how much the whole thing was worth but they insisted to contributing). My IL were paying for the other 45%. I wanted to pay more, but my FIL told me that I let them have their way with the guest list and as such more than half of the guests were strictly theirs so it made sense that they were paying for them.
Then I caught him…
Obviously, no wedding will be happening but it's too late to cancel most stuff : venue, food, guest accommodation, dress, musicians, horses (yes. Horses. Rich people I swear).
My in-laws told me they are taking full responsibility for their son's cheating and will pay the whole wedding themselves. My ex SIL, who is also my best friend told me in confidence that they plan to make my ex reimburse them every penny.
I asked my MIL if I could keep the venue and organize a smaller event with my closest friends. She agreed.
I am calling it a celibacy party but the truth is I am devastated by what's happening. Full blown panick attack and crying myself to sleep…
I want a nice day outside with my friends and their children having fun. My family was overjoyed to finally have a joyfull family reunion for once, and I wanted to keep that. My niece (SIL's daughter whose I am the godmother of) plans to color my glorious useless white wedding dress with finger paints.
I suggested to my IL to come during the day event as our family has been blended long before we decided to make it official. My IL politely refused which yeah I understand. I didn't expected them to come, it was more to suggest them subtlety that I still want they in my life and I don't consider them responsible for their son's cheating.
Maybe the night event will be less kid friendly and I do intend to party hard in case it could make me forget the last twelve years of my life with my ex. There will be single men (close friends and family), and a lot of alcohol obviously but I don't see myself hooking up with anyone I would have previously invited TO MY OWN WEDDING. There will also be my previous ex, that I dated when we were 12 and who while celibate, is fully homosexual.
My ex learned about the plan and called me furious. He called me names (I don't care about the names a cheater calls me), but he said that it was a slap in the face of his parents and it makes me look like a gold digger. He also said that people will talk and my in-laws would look like fools among their guests when they will learn what happened in place of a wedding.
It makes me second guess myself. I asked again my in-laws and they told me that the event was mine, I could marry someone else at this venue and they couldn't blame me. I pressed again my SIL for her parents' true opinion (After all this time I struggle to understand rich people speak) : she admitted that they do think it's a bit in poor taste (That's the worst insult in rich people language) but my SIL told me it's still in better taste than putting your dick in some luxury sex-worker without condom a few months before your wedding (ex might have a love child with Another woman. It's a full shitshow but it's not mine anymore)
I am certain most people will call me NTA, as my ex SIL did, but I wonder if older people from richer backgrounds (and who are not my best friend) would agree… I do love my ex IL and I don't know how I will manage it but I want to keep them in my life and would cancel this stupid breakup party in a blink if I have to. I am not sure if tumblr has a lot of people fluent in old-fashioned old-money tradition, but it's still worth a shot. I am at still undecided about the whole thing and might change my opinion 13 times till this ask is published…
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Sparks Fly
matt rempe x reader
warnings: angst, 1k
i was doing friendship bracelets for the eras tour with my friend bc she’s going and we were listening to speak now and i knew i had to write something for matt, and i had also seen this pic of matt with wet hair and i knew i had to fit the lyrics of the song
You had to tell Matt about the job offer you had gotten. It was the only one you got since you finished your degree. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t your dream job. But it would pay the taxes and it was in your field of choice so it would have to do.
You had also convinced yourself that with his growing popularity, soon he wouldn’t care for you. You would never think him capable of cheating. But who said he would never get bored of you. You were repeating to yourself that you were doing the both of you a favour.
He walked out of the locker room, hair still wet from the shower, cheeks flushed. He was such a sight to behold. The thought that he was your boyfriend still seemed bizarre sometimes.
He grinned when his eyes laid on you. “Hey beautiful” He bent down to kiss your cheek and you closed your eyes to encapsulate as much of this feeling as you could.
You turned in his hold to wrap your arms around his waist to hug him. A real hug. You squeezed as hard as you could and basked in the warmth of his touch. Maybe you could go back to his apartment tonight? Just spend one more night in his arms to remember every curve and hollow of his body.
But you pulled away and looked up at him “I have something to tell you Matt.”, and grabbed his hand to drag him further into a corner.
He looked at you expectantly and you had to force the words out of your mouth “I got a job offer.”.
A smile grew on his face, “That’s amazing !! Congratulations! Isn’t that good news? Why do you look so sad?” Your heart broke at his excitement.
“It’s in London”
“London, Ontario, right?” A bittersweet chuckle escaped your lips at his almost cute denial.
“London as in the capital of the United Kingdom.” his excited expression was replaced by one of confusion.
Your head dropped at your next words, “I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to tell you before. I leave next week for the interview while you’ll be away on the road. I’m so sorry for telling you about it so late.”, they were full of shame.
He was speechless so you continued, left hand on his chest as if to make sure his heart was still beating, still warm underneath your touch, “I’ll probably take it. I don’t really have a choice. I’ll go by your apartment after you leave to get my stuff and leave my spare key. I’m so sorry for doing it this way. Good bye.”
Your hand dropped as you turned around and left the building. Realization slowly downed on Matthew. You haven’t said the words. But you just broke up with him.
———————
The interview had gone well and you were back in New York a week later to clean out your apartment.
The rain was pouring outside but you had to get your belongings into the moving van. Your lease was ending in two days so you had to move it to your parents’ place until you would find a place in London.
The movers had just loaded your couch into the truck when you heard someone call your name. You could recognise that voice amongst a thousand others.
When you turned around you found Matthew standing a few feet away, all wet from the rain, hair draped messily over his eyes. “Don’t leave.” he said through ragged breaths “Don’t go to London. Drop everything now.”
He was taking tentative steps forward as if not to scare you away. “I don’t want you to leave. It may sound selfish but I need you here. This week away from you has been one of the worst weeks in my life.”
He was right. This last week had been so dull. Everything felt wrong. It had rained all week. There was a storm that had delayed your flight to London by 4 hours. The thought of getting off the plane had crossed your mind more than once.
He was now standing in front of you on the side walk. His height towering over you and you just wanted to crash your body into his, to cower from the whole world and hide into him. “It feels like I don’t have anything to go back home to. My bed hasn’t felt like my own since I know you won’t be sleeping there every other night.” You were holding his gaze like you were holding your ground. With all your crumbling will.
“New York is chanting your name right now. You have so much success. You will find someone else to warm your bed and forget me in an instant.” The rain was kind for blending in your tears with its drops on your cheeks. It failed to hide the crack in your voice.
He laughed at your words, looking away from you for a second “Don’t give me that bullshit. Are you even listening to me? Do you think I want anyone else just to warm my bed? I couldn’t look at another girl if I wanted to. It’s you that I want.” And you believed him. Every word. A smile cracked its way on your face, through the pain and the tears. You were like a house of cards around him because you always knew there was no use putting up walls with him.
“I love you.” he had never said those words before. It took you a moment to register them. Eyes wide, mouth falling agape, every wall had crumbled down.
You grabbed his shirt and tugged him down towards you. Your lips crashed on his before you could find words to answer his confession. Every emotion you felt this past week was poured into that kiss. Sadness, desperation, longing, passion, love. Love.
All the arguments you had previously prepared, all the reasons you convinced yourself were good enough fled your mind at the moment. And there was only him.
His hands were on your face, then on your neck, your shoulder, your back, your hips. He had you pressed against him, his shirt wrapped tightly in your fist. You were holding each other as if the other was about to disappear.
Both of you were panting when you pulled apart. Through an exhale, you whispered “I love you too.”
He let his forehead fall against yours, “Then stay. We’ll figure it out.”
They say sparks fly when you’re with the right person. There was a firework show around you.
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NURSE!!! NURSE!!! SHE BROKE OUT OF HER CAGE TO POST MORE- Dad!Carmy brainrot for you all 😉🫶
— so I Imagine him getting a call in the middle of the night, you’re heavily pregnant with your third. His Apple Watch thankfully woke him (you’d be worried for him to get a call so late). He gets up without waking you going into the living room and answering to hear your teen daughters watery voice at the end of the line and she’s all “Daddy promise you won’t be mad at me” (more below)
He’s immediately grabbing his keys, putting on his shoes and brown plaid coat that he’s had longer than she’d been alive, or then he’d even been knowing you for that matter - his heart thumping in his chest and throat tightening. “Sweetheart why aren’t you home right now?! are you safe? Tell me wha’s wrong- what happened- I won’t be upset honey” he assured her, his stomach clenching at the thought of her hurt.
“P-paisley wanted me to go t’this party with her and - and the police came daddy and she left me there alone- and I got arrested. Come get me I don’t wanna die in hereeee” she sobbed dramatically. He sighed gratefully, starting the car.
“You aren’t going to die princess. Give me 20 minutes mm? And we can talk ‘bout y’punishment w’mommy t’morrow” he said and she huffs
“You’re gonna snitch on me T’mommy?! Daddy you’re being so unfair! “ she whined
He chuckled a bit, “I’m bein’ very fair. I love you babygirl I’ll s’ya soon” he said and hung up. He knew if he’d have woken you, you would have freaked out and panicked at the thought of your little girl drunk and scared and alone. Considering how far along you were currently the stress could most definitely cause early labor and he did not want to deal with that tonight.
He’d make it to the police station fast bc ofc when he was picking a home for his family it would be super close to one for safety reasons and when he walked in and saw his baby sitting in a holding cell with other adults being held on misdemeanor charges, his heart would break.
She would be curled into herself on the bench, knees flush to her chest hugging herself, cheeks tear stained, big blue doe-like eyes puffy and red with thick tears that were still falling. He wanted to pick her up like she was 2 again - even though the top of her head hit his shoulder now, and cradle her like the baby he couldn’t help but see any time he looked at her.
“Oh princess” he said softly and she looks up, quickly standing up and she couldn’t help but burst in to sobs as relief washed over her when she finally saw her dad, who had never let her down from the day she was born - he was always there for her, as were you, but Carmy was always softer on the kids then you were because his dad never showed any of his siblings softness, so he wanted to be sure the kids always trusted him in that way
“Daddy you came! I’m so scared please please I’ll never do it again please get me out of here dad I’m so sorry I’m so so sorry daddy” she broke down and he felt tears pushing at the back of his eyes he could only swallow back because they were in public.
“You- hey-“ he snaps his fingers and the cop standing outside the holding cell door finally acknowledges him “I’m her fuckin father- let ‘er out. Now.” He said annoyed with the man’s lack of attention for his own job.
“She’s unable to be released until her fine is paid” he said and shrugged “it’s the law”
Carmen dug the stupid reciept paper he’d shoved in his pocket that he’d paid the front clerk when he got here, pushing it to his chest “open the fucking door, jagoff. Shes 16 the fuck is wrong with you she’s a baby” he said angrier, voice getting louder.
“Sir I’m gonna need you to calm down.” He said and Carmen rolled his eyes, 2 words he hated hearing even more than anything when put together.
“Look at the fucking paper. And let my daughter go” he snapped, holding his baby’s hand through the bars gently and rubbing a soothing thumb over her knuckles, she was shaking like a leaf.
“Mmm” the man grumbled, opening up the door and she rushed into Carmen’s arms. He kisses the top of her head tenderly, wrapping her in a tight bear hug.
“Y’never allowed t’scare me like that again angel girl” he mumbled into her hair, breathing in her scent that he could pick out even in his sleep as his baby girl.
“I’m sorry daddy I’m so so sorry” she mumbled over and over, tears soaking his shirt. He hushed her how he did when she was just a baby and rubbed her back soothingly.
“S’okay babygirl I think y’learned y’lesson mm? Y’think you wanna go out drinkin again before y’21?” He teased lightly and she sniffled, shaking her head lightly. He didn’t care that she was getting snot all over him, or that she was staining one of his near $80 white shirts with her mascara and eyeliner she’d gotten with a Ulta gift card ‘Santa’ had gotten her, since Carmen couldn’t bare the fact his baby girl was growing up.
“No- no daddy I promise. I promise I’ll never do it ever again. Please don’t tell mommy” she pleads and looks up at him with big watery eyes. He carefully thumbed away the large rings of black under her eyes and cups her face tenderly.
“Sweetheart I am not in control of what mommy does. You know this, and I can’t lie to mommy. Are you asking me t’lie t’mommy? M’already riskin’ my spot in bed by not waking her up t’tell her ‘bout this” He asked sternly, she knew that lies were a big boundary in your family - they just hurt people unless they were ‘happy lies’ aka surprises like gifts or sweet things, but withholding information from each other in fear of making someone upset was a big no no in your house.
She huffed annoyed, lip quivering and she nuzzled back into his chest “unfair. Mommy is gonna ground me forever” she whined.
“Mm - maybe she should ground you. What the hell is this outfit? She’s not gonna be happy ‘bout this, y’gonna get sick” he tells her. She was in nothing but a tank top dress, flimsy nylons, and a half cardigan. He wraps his jacket around her shoulders as they walk out to the car, of course he couldn’t care less about freezing his ass off because his baby needed to be warm even if it was a short walk to his SUV.
“It’s cute dad and m’not gonna get sick! All the girls were wearing dresses like this!” She snapped sassily as she buckled in.
“Mm cute - sure pumpkin. What were you even doin’ - what party was worth the rage of y’mother? Especially when you know she’s been in a mood lately” he asked. A mood was what he called it, you were really just overly hormonal and sore and giving birth within the next 14 days, so everything was ticking you off
“Hally Hawkins party dad. Only the coolest senior at school!! If I was the only one who wasn’t there how was I supposed to ever find a date to the winter ball next month?!” She huffed, crossing her arms
“Date?!” His eyes widen “since when did we say you could date?!” He asked quickly “you aren’t dating you- you can’t date until you’re married!” He said seriously to which she just giggled
“How am I supposed to get married if I don’t date daddy! I’m 16 now! I’m getting my license soon! I should be able to hold hands with a boy I like-“
“Hold hands?!” He exclaims “who the hell is holdin’ y’hand? No- no. No! I’m the only man that holds y’hand and it’s to help you across the street” he grips the steering wheel tighter “y’too little” he said and she whines
“Daddy I’m not little! I’m 16! You promised to stop calling me little” she pushes his hand away at a stoplight when he goes to fix the strap of her dress out of habit “daaaad!!!” She whines and he huffs
“Quit all the whinin’! Y’little as long as y’live w’me and that means that y’not dating and y’not holding hands” he pulls into your driveway, turning the lights off before as to not wake you. “And quiet comin inside- if you wake y’sister mommy is gonna be upset she’s been havin’ a hard time sleepin’ “ he opened her door, taking her purse and helping her out of the car.
“Is this mommy’s?” He holds up the purse and she takes it from him, holding it to her chest defensively.
“She never wears it anymore what- are you gonna snitch?! If you do I’ll tell her about you eating all her ice cream” she teased and headed to the door
He gasped, “you wouldn’t dare- you’d sell out y’own father?! After he just went and picked y’ass up outta the slammer. Maybe I shoulda let you stay there eh’? A night in jail may teach you some manners missy” he jokes as he unlocks the door, not seeing the kitchen light on.
“Where were you!” You were stood at the end of the hallway, fluffy robe and slippers on, hand over your bump as you stood there while nervously pacing. Carmy and your Daughter give eachother the we’ve been caught look before Carmy looks at you, as you narrow your eyes at your daughters arm adorning a very familiar looking black bag.
“Is that- red lipstick…and my purse?!”
#CapriCarmy Drabbles#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto#the bear fx#carmy berzatto#the bear fic#the bear#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto fanfiction#the bear fanfiction#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear carmen#carmen berzatto blurb#carmen x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto the bear fanfiction#carmy x you#carmy x fem!reader
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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy
Chapter Five
Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R
Chapter Rating : R
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour including toy use. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.
Word Count : 5.6k (I am so sorry)
A/N : This was originally over 7k long so... at least I managed to get it down to under 6k. Tumblr is still only letting me tag five people at a time, so tags will be in comments again.
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR
MASTER LIST
Chapter Five
Minutes passed, your back against the door, barely breathing, the stuffed beagle clutched to your chest. Eyes closed, you tried to focus on any little sound that might tell you what he was doing, if he was even still out there. Part of you wanted to go to him, to carry on your conversation. To be near him. You’d seen a new side of him and it was enticing as it was frustrating; how could he be so aloof one minute and so sweet the next?
Your thoughts strayed to that night, to the way he’d kissed you and how his body had felt pressed against yours.
Tearing yourself from the door, you moved to your room, creating distance between yourself and temptation. But yet felt like a spring, coiling tighter and tighter with every little thought of him.
Surely he knew what he was doing to you, the effect he had every time he touched you and smiled that damned smile.
You barely knew him but he gave you butterflies. He stole your breath every time his dark eyes found yours.
Fuck.
You felt like a silly school girl with a crush on the teacher, knowing that it was wrong and nothing could happen. Only, something had already happened. Just the thought of it brought heat to your cheeks and that fluttering feeling to your stomach.
Locking your bedroom door, you let your attention drift to your nightstand. To the top drawer. Cautiously you pulled it open and peeked inside. Embarrassment swelled inside you, reminding you why you’d been trying so hard to ignore it.
It was as full as any other drawer in the room. No expense had been spared. Honestly, you weren’t even sure what half of the toys were for. Some you could guess but others were a little more confusing. All different shapes, colours and sizes. Some so large they looked downright painful.
Frustrated, you slammed the drawer shut.
You weren’t a virgin but you didn’t consider yourself experienced. Sex for you had been awkward fumbles with guys you’d grown up with, shameful moments that often ended in disappointment. Dates had been approved by your parents, and no one they approved of wanted sex unless it could be used to force an engagement.
But, now that you had the opportunity to experience new things, you didn’t even know where to start. Despite your age, you felt like a naive child.
Changing into your PJs you fell into bed, TV distracting you from thoughts of Billy and having dinner with him. When you finally settled to sleep, you pulled the stuff beagle to your chest again and realised that you could spell the faintest hint of his cologne on it. And, all you could think about as you drifted off, was how it would feel to fall asleep in his arms.
Panic gripped you the moment you woke, a thousand anxious thoughts about the evening to come filling your head. You didn’t know what you were going to wear or how you’d manage to make it through an evening without saying anything stupid.
You tried to read over breakfast but you couldn’t concentrate. The tension inside you, the desire that you didn’t know how to suppress, seemed to wind tighter and tighter until you couldn’t sit still.
Taking a cold shower didn’t help either. Instead, the cold water reminded you of his touch and, suddenly, it felt like his hands were all over your body, touching you and caressing you in ways that drove you crazy.
Returning to your bedroom wrapped in a towel, you threw yourself onto the bed, the frustration boiling over.
He’d suggested talking, getting to know each other, but how were you going to do that when you couldn’t focus? How could you have dinner with him when all you could think about was him kissing you?
You realised there was only one thing you could do.
Closing your eyes, you fumbled with the top drawer of the nightstand, reaching in and pulling out the first toy your hand fell on. You took a few deep breaths before looking at it; blue silicone with a slight curve, not big enough to be intimidating but it still made your cheeks warm. A little button at the base caused it to vibrate.
Oh fuck.
You took a few more deep breaths, knowing you had to at least try. Parting your legs, you slipped the still-vibrating toy between your thighs.
Your breath hitched at the first little touch. The second touch was firmer, pressing the tip against your clit. Oh. It felt good, better than any pleasure your fingers were capable of creating. Biting your lip, you tried to keep from moaning, as the pleasure quickly started to mount inside you. You turned it off, knowing you needed more, you needed everything.
Gingerly, you reached between your thighs, feeling how wet you were before guiding the toy to your entrance. A low, gasped moan escaped you as you began to slowly slip it inside you.
Letting your head fall back on the pillow, you tried not to think too much about what you were doing, instead finding your mind drifting somewhere far more dangerous. To thoughts of him. And the more you thought about Billy, the better it felt. Soon enough, your eyes were closed and you were imagining him on top of you; the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress and his dark eyes fixed on you as he fucked you. You were certain that he’d know exactly what he was doing, that a night with him would be better than anything you’d experienced before.
“Billy,” you moaned softly, remembering the kiss, remembering the way he’d made you feel wanted. It became harder to hold back the sounds that were desperate to escape you as you descended further into the fantasy, moving the toy a little faster.
Your free hand reached for the first thing it could find, bringing the stuffed beagle to your lips to stifle your moans. Suddenly all you could smell was his cologne and it was almost enough to push you over the edge.
Finally, you turned the vibrator back on and came almost immediately.
“Mr Russo,” you keened softly into the stuffed toy, every gasped breath filling your nostrils with his scent.
Your cheeks burned with shame the moment it was over, but you kept the toy inside you, imagining him as the sort of man who’d take his time before pulling out, making sure you were finished.
Suffice to say, you were mortified once you’d dropped the toy to the floor and your heart rate had started to slow.
It didn’t feel right, in fact it felt awful, like you’d used him for your pleasure without permission. But, you finally felt better. The tension was gone. You could finally relax and spend the rest of the day finishing The Picture of Dorian Gray, hoping it would give you and Billy something to talk about.
You drew blood early, getting it out of the way so you could spend an obscene amount of time obsessing over what to wear. Eventually, you settled on a casual little black dress that wasn’t over the top, but made it look like you’d made an effort. After tying back your hair, you put on some natural looking make-up, hoping it would give you a little more confidence.
And, when you finally stepped out into the penthouse, you could have sworn you saw his breath catch.
Billy was dressed more casual than you’d ever seen him, wearing a red sweater and dark jeans. A look that definitely worked for him. He watched from the sofa as you made your way towards him.
“You look lovely,” he said and your heart stuttered.
Glancing down at yourself, you bit your lip, feeling like it was too much. “We usually only have take out on special occasions back home, so...” you shrugged.
“I feel a little under-dressed,” he joked.
“You always look nice,” you remarked before realising what you’d actually said. “I mean... you always dress very nicely.”
“My tailor will be glad to hear you say that,” he smiled as you sat. “The food should be here soon. I hope you don’t mind that I ordered the fixed menu.”
“That’s fine.” If anything it made it easier; you wouldn’t have to worry about the food list.
“Wine?” He offered and you nodded eagerly, despite not being much of a drinker. “Is Riesling okay?” You weren’t sure so you nodded again.
The bottle and glasses were already on the table, in fact his was already half-empty. He filled a glass and you leaned to take it from him, your fingers brushing against his and, for a second, he didn’t let go.
“You smell nice,” he muttered, his gaze lingering as your cheeks warmed. You hadn’t put on perfume, so you assumed it must be your vanilla body wash. “How’s your hand?” He asked a moment later with a touch more reluctance.
Holding it up, you showed him the gauze bandaid across your palm. “It’s fine. Nearly healed.”
Billy nodded, his guilt obvious. But, thankfully, he didn’t say anything else on the matter.
“I finished Dorian Gray,” you told him, stopping an awkward silence from falling.
“Oh? And what did you think in the end?” He asked, crossing his legs so he could turn more towards you.
“I’m not sure yet. It was a lot to take in.” You shrugged. “He did some horrible things; especially to Sybil and poor Basil, but some of it wasn’t all that bad? And then when he tried to change, Henry made him feel bad about it.” You took a breath, feeling the weight of his scrutiny on you. “I get that it’s a cautionary tale about excess and hedonism, but I don’t think anyone should be punished for trying to enjoy themselves...”
“It was a different time,” Billy offered, still completely focused on you. “Dorian’s hedonism damaged almost everyone unlucky enough to fall under his spell.”
“I know, I just...” you let out a huff, not sure how to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think if he’d been given the opportunity, he could’ve changed for the better.”
“That’s very optimistic of you.”
He said optimistic but you were certain that he meant naive.
“I still don’t understand why you like it.”
“Well, it’s -” he was cut short by the sound of a buzzer before the elevator doors slid open. “Saved by the bell,” he remarked, grinning as he got to his feet to go collect the food from the doorman and tip him.
While Billy got the food, you made your way to the dining table, taking your glasses and the bottle with you. Places were already set and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you noticed the candles. Realistically, he was probably just trying to make things nice but, in your mind, all you could think about was how it seemed intimate.
You took a seat and a long sip of wine while Billy unpacked the food, almost covering the whole table. The smell was enough to make your stomach grumble. Once everything was on the table, Billy dimmed the lights with his phone and lit the candles.
“Dig in,” he told you, starting to fill his own plate.
You started with the things you knew you liked, taking a little and starting to eat, but it wasn’t long before you found your attention drifting to him, watching through your lashes. You watched him eat, watched the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, the way he licked his lips.
“What?” He asked, fighting back a grin. Your gaze dropped to your place and your cheeks started to burn. “It’s okay, you can ask.”
“What’s it like? When you eat, I mean,” you asked softly, knowing it really wasn’t any of your business.
“Same as when you do,” Billy offered without seeming to care, “only flavours are muted and it never makes me feel full.”
“Oh,” you looked up and instantly felt bad.
“What’s that look for?
“What look?”
“You get this look sometimes, like something I’ve said has made you sad. Like you feel sorry for me.”
“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, “I just... I can’t imagine not being able to enjoy things like food and sunsets.”
“It’s not that I can't enjoy them,” he shrugged again, “I just enjoy them less than I did when I was human.”
“Do you miss being human?” You asked before realising how inappropriate it was. You shook your head. “I’m sorry, that was rude, I shouldn’t’ve -”
“No, it’s fine,” he answered, reaching for his glass and taking a long, slow drink. “I do miss it. This - this wasn’t something I chose.”
There was nothing you could say to that. There were questions, yes, but you weren’t entitled to the answers and you didn’t want to risk ruining the evening by asking them. Awkwardly, you reached for your glass and took a drink.
“There’s that look again,” he remarked with a soft smile, “don’t worry, I’ve had enough time to come to terms with what I am now.”
The small talk continued over food, mostly about the food, until you felt like you couldn’t eat another bit. Sinking back in your chair, you closed your eyes and let out a slow exhale. When you looked at Billy again you found him grinning at you as he reached across to top up your glass.
“I didn’t order any dessert but if you’re still hungry I could -”
“Don’t you dare,” you laughed. “But thank you, this was really nice.”
“Glad you enjoyed it,” he told you as he refilled your glasses. “I want you to enjoy your time here. I know things got off to a strange start, but I want you to be comfortable here.”
“I am - I mean, I’m trying to be,” you struggled to explain. “I’m still getting used to it, but being able to go out with Karen really helped.”
“She enjoyed meeting you. She found you very interesting,” Billy answered, an indecipherable smile on his lips. “I find you interesting too.”
The comment caused your head to pound a little harder in your chest and your thighs to press together. The lump in your throat kept you from responding. A moment later, he changed the subject.
“Let’s go sit on the sofa,” pushing his chair away from the table. You nodded, pushing back your chair and standing, hesitating when you looked at the mess on the table. “Don’t worry, the maid will deal with it.”
“Maid?” There was a maid?
“She usually comes around 4am,” he answered, waving his hand towards the sofa, indicating that you should go while he got tonight’s blood from the kitchen.
Wine glass in hand, you sat on the sofa, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city and, again, you couldn’t help but think how intimate it all felt. Billy soon joined you, leaving some space between you, but not much - even less when you folded your legs beneath you and turned towards him.
“So,” he started with a smile, “what do you want to know?”
What followed was a long conversation about Billy, finding out what you could. He’d been a vampire for fifteen years; in his human life he’d been a Marine and, now, he ran a private security firm that mostly catered to vampire clientele. He was born and raised in New York but had no family. And he was wealthy enough that he simply laughed when you asked about the credit card in your name.
Then, he turned the spotlight on you.
You explained that you were from the Midwest, a little middle-of-nowhere town, and that your family were part of an insular, conservative community. You’d spent the last few years helping homeschool some of the local children, but you’d decided you’d wanted a change. You’d wanted to see the world and experience new things. He didn’t ask why you’d taken the job, and you didn’t offer the information, instead you tried to make it seem like everything was simple and happy in your life.
All the while, his eyes stayed fixed on you, as he sipped your blood.
“Does it unsettle you?” He asked suddenly. “Seeing me drink your blood?”
“N-no,” you tried to speak around the lump in your throat, “I don’t mind.”
“But you have questions?”
“Some?” You answered and Billy gave a nod, indicating you could ask if you wanted. “The other day, when you mentioned it was still warm, is that...” you couldn’t bring yourself to finish.
“It’s better, yes,” his voice dropped to a low whisper, tongue running over his lips. “It’s like drinking from the source.”
“And is that...” Again, you couldn’t finish, feeling breathless just at the thought.
“I don’t bite. You never have to worry about that.” But the way he was looking at you said something else entirely.
“Good,” you finally manage to take a breath, “I don’t want to be bitten... or turned...”
Billy simply nodded.
“What can you taste when you drink my blood?” You asked, remembering what he’d said about knowing you hadn’t been sleeping or eating. “You said you can tell certain things from it?”
“Hormonal changes can affect how it tastes,” he offered.
“That’s why you want me to keep healthy and eat right?”
“Yes, it makes your blood taste better, but it’s also because I don’t want you getting sick. I’m not entirely heartless,” he smiled.
Silence fell and Billy took another drink. The care he took not to waste a single drop had your heart beating faster and, this time, when he noticed you watching, you didn’t look away. You couldn’t look away. Maybe the wine had helped lower your inhibitions, or maybe you were starting to feel more comfortable with him. Whatever it was, the moment didn’t end until he’d finished the whole glass.
Billy licked his lips again, and you noticed his gaze drop to the neckline of your dress as you took deeper breaths trying to calm your racing heartbeat, causing your breasts to awkwardly rise and fall. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and your eyes dropped to the empty glass in his hand, now resting on his lap and - fuck, your eyes snapped back up awkwardly, the moment you noticed the way his pants were tented. He was hard.
“I, uh -” you started, getting to your feet, “- I need a glass of water.”
You didn’t wait for a response before heading to the kitchen, giving him space to deal with whatever that was. Your heart was still pounding uncomfortable, your hands shaking as you found a clean glass and started to run the cold tap. Filling it, you took a slow drink, hoping to drown the butterflies in your stomach.
You didn’t hear him move, didn’t realise he was right behind you until his hand came to rest on the edge of the counter beside yours, his cold thumb brushing over your pinkie. Your breath caught as his shadow swallowed yours on the wall, and your cheeks continued to burn. Desire and embarrassment warred inside you, but Billy didn’t speak until you did.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing without your consent,” he answered softly, against your ear.
He inhaled slowly, his nose inches from your hair. Then came that low, restrained groan. He sounded like a caged animal, desperate to be released, and you realised you were the one holding the keys.
For a second, you remained frozen, knowing that he was giving you a choice. It was a bad idea to complicate things between you, but some part of you wanted this, wanted him. Suddenly all you could think about were the fantasies you’d played out with the vibrator that morning.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stepped back, pressing yourself against him.
His hand twitched, his thumb covering your pinkie, holding it.
“Say yes,” he near-demanded, wanting your unequivocal consent, his lips ghosting your ear with every word. “I need you to say you want this.”
“Yes,” you breathed, “I want this.”
A split-second later, his hand was on your stomach, pulling you back against him, letting you feel the hard press of his cock against your lower back. His lips moved to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin in a way that made your heart race faster. And you quickly realised how much Billy liked that.
“That’s right, little hummingbird,” he groaned, moving his hand to palm your breasts over your dress. “Fuck, you’ve been driving me crazy all night.”
All you could offer was a whimper in response, breath catching as his hand started to slip down your body, reaching beneath your dress. Cold fingers trailed up your bare thighs, causing a shiver of delight to run up your spine and for heat to pool between your thighs.
His knee pressed gently between yours, urging your legs apart, letting his hand move higher. You bit your lip and tried to stifle a moan when you felt his fingertips against the wet fabric of your panties, but holding back anything became impossible the moment his cold fingers slipped inside. His touch was light to begin with, teasing, fingers stirring between your folds, drawing a gasp from you. A low growl vibrated through his chest as he coated his fingers in your arousal, his touches getting more pronounced the wetter you got.
Your head fell back against his shoulder as his lips and fingers continued their assault on your senses. You didn’t even notice his hand move from the counter until you felt his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling gently to turn your face enough so he could kiss you. His tongue against the seam of your lips was almost enough to distract you from his finger slowly easing its way between your walls. You whimpered and moaned against his lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth, keeping you in the kiss until every inch of his finger was buried inside of you.
“Fuck, hummingbird,” he groaned, a dangerous glint in his eyes and a grin on his lips. You moaned as his finger flexed inside you, slowly starting to withdraw before pushing in again. “Don’t come. That’s the only rule you have to follow right now; don’t come until I say you can. Can you do that?”
“I -” you could barely think to answer.
“If you can’t, I’ll stop,” he warned, his finger stilling and causing you to keen at the loss of sensation.
“Yes,” you moaned.
Your relief was palpable the moment he started to move again. The fingers in your hair, tugging softly so his lips could return to your neck. It didn’t feel real. It felt amazing in a way you couldn’t comprehend. Your heart raced faster when you felt him start to press a second, cold finger inside you, and you realised you were gripping his thigh. Hard.
“You’re so wet for me,” he groaned against your neck. “Practically dripping all over my hand,”
The words alone were enough to cause you to clench around his fingers, letting you feel them more acutely as they started to move a little faster, fucking you to the knuckle each and every time.
“Billy, please...” you pleaded, not sure you could take much more.
“Not yet,” he groaned, his lips against your ear, nipping and sucking at the lobe in a way that made everything so much harder for you. “It’ll feel so good if you just wait.”
You wanted to wait, to play his game, but how could you when it already felt so good? You felt yourself on the precipice, every muscle tensing, your slick walls tightening and gripping his fingers. Your eyes closed tight and you almost felt ashamed of yourself, like you were going to ruin the moment because you couldn’t control yourself.
His fingers stilled again just before you could go over the edge.
“Not yet,” he told you, voice calm but commanding. “Just breathe. Let me be in control.”
You managed a weak nod before he pulled you back into another kiss, fingers staying perfectly still for a few moments, not moving again until he felt you start to relax. This time his fingers moved in shallow thrusts, bending inside you, pressing against your soft inner walls like he was searching for something.
Your whole body shuddered when he found it and you saw stars.
“Does that feel good?” He asked and you nodded, unable to do anything but moan when his fingertips brushed against the same spot. “That’s it, little hummingbird, sing for me.”
More moans slipped from your lips, each more desperate than the last, your fingers digging into his thigh through his jeans.
“Billy, I-I need to...” you begged, words fracturing into another cry of pleasure.
“Do you need to come?”
“Y-yes!”
“Say it,” his commanding voice sending a thrill down your spine and right to your core.
“I-I need to come,” you pleaded, feeling more brazen than you had in your whole life. You’d never been the sort to beg to come, but the thought of it thrilled you almost as much as his fingers inside of you.
“Then come for me.”
Your reaction was instantaneous, so much so that you had to wonder if it was because you’d needed to come or simply because he’d demanded it. Your body started to tremble and shake, your walls clenching around his fingers as they continued to move inside you, and the sounds you were making - if you hadn’t felt completely out of your mind, you would have been embarrassed by the desperate noises.
As you came you barely noticed his hand slip from your hair to press against your chest, resting over your racing heart. Your head turned and his lips quickly claimed yours, swallowing down your moans, his fingers still dragging out your orgasm until your legs felt so weak you weren’t sure you’d be able to stand without his arms around you.
Without warning, Billy's hand slipped from between your legs and he swept you off your feet, carrying you back to the sofa. He sat back with you on his lap, holding you close, your body trembling so much that you worried it would never stop. It felt like he’d broken something inside of you and your body didn’t know how to process all the pleasure he’d created.
Being on his lap didn’t help, but it would have been a lie to say you hated the feeling of his arm wrapped possessively around you and his hand resting on your bare thigh. You curled against him, your head on his chest as you slowly caught your breath.
Billy’s lips pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you finally started to sill.
“Are we going to -”
“Not tonight,” he answered, not needing you to finish the question. “I’m not going to rush you.”
Even though he was still hard, he didn’t want anything else. You weren’t sure if it was a rejection or if he really didn’t want to rush you, but it left you feeling even more uncertain.
When you found the nerve to lift your head, he gave you a gentle smile, his fingers squeezing your thigh tenderly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.
Any conversation felt like it would be for your benefit rather than his. Billy seemed perfectly comfortable with what had just happened.
“Thank you,” you told him softly.
“For what?” Both confused and amused by the comment.
“For - for asking first,” your voice broke a little.
His gaze darkened, an unasked question on his lips. He was angry, not at you but at what the comment implied. Thankfully, he didn’t ask, didn’t push for an explanation you didn’t want to offer.
“You always have a choice here,” he reminded you. “You can always say no to this. I’ll never hold it against you.”
You stayed silent for a beat. “What if I don’t want to say no?”
“Then I’ll make sure you enjoy your time here with me.”
“But that’s all it’ll be?”
“Yes,” he answered, “I won’t pretend I can offer you more than that.”
“Okay, good. I-I don’t want anything serious.” The comment earned a strange smirk from him. “What?”
“I just didn’t expect you to want anything so casual. You’re constantly surprising me.”
“I -” you paused, biting your lip, “- I want to have fun. I want to experience the things I’ve been missing out on.”
“That’s something I’d be more than happy to help with, hummingbird,” he told you, smiling that cocky smile, making you want to melt.
“I’ve never...” you trailed off and saw his eyebrow raise, “I mean I’ve never done anything like... friends with benefits?”
“I thought I was paying you for your blood, not your friendship?” He smirked, recalling the terrible comment you’d made when you’d been angry with him. Then he shrugged. “It’s simple; we hang out and, if you want me to touch you, I’ll touch you. We’re just two adults having fun with an equal say in what happens.”
“Even when you give me rules to follow?” A shiver running up your spine as you remember the way he’d commanded and you’d obeyed.
“I told you, I like to be in control. But if it doesn’t work for you, there are no consequences.” He fell silent for a moment, the smirk on his lips seeming to grow. “Unless you want consequences.”
All you could do was nod, not daring to ask what kind of consequences he might have in mind.
“I have a rule too,” you dared to say.
“Oh?”
“You can’t lie to me.”
Clearly he hadn’t been expecting that but he quickly conceded. “That’s fair. As long as you follow my rule, I’ll follow yours - even when you’re in bed with your vibrator.”
Your heart almost stopped and your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment.
“How did you -” you could barely get the words out, completely mortified.
“You moaned my name,” Billy continued, not in the least bit embarrassed. He’d heard you across the penthouse. “All I could think about over dinner was how wet you must have been and the way you moaned when you came.” His hand moved to your cheek, making sure your gaze didn’t drop in embarrassment. “It’s been a long time since I’ve jerked off, but listening to you had me coming all over my hand.”
Biting your lip, embarrassment and shame filled you, but Billy still wouldn’t let you look away. His thumb grazed your lip and left you speechless.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he told you, “those toys are yours to use whenever you need to, as long as you remember that your orgasms are mine now.”
You weren’t used to anyone being so candid but, you had to concede, it was exactly what made Billy the best person to help you experience new things. He knew what he was doing and he wasn’t shy about what he wanted.
“I’m not embarrassed,” an obvious lie that Billy decided not to call you on. “Things like that just aren’t exactly acceptable where I’m from.”
“Was that your first time pleasuring yourself - or was it your first time using a vibrator?” He asked, sounding like he was enquiring about something utterly mundane.
“Using a vibrator,” you answered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.
“Well, you never have to feel ashamed of doing anything that makes you feel good while you’re here,” he told you with enviable confidence.
“Like Dorian Gray?” You offered with the smallest of smiles.
Billy let out a huff of laughter. “Does that make me your Lord Henry?”
“Only if you plan on leading me astray,” you answered back.
“Oh, little hummingbird,” he smiled, leaning towards you, “you’ve got no idea.” Before you could answer, his lips were on yours again.
Minutes ticked by with his lips on yours, enjoying everything about the moment, about him. When he finally pulled away, you let out a content sigh, smiling as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“So, this rule of yours... I take it you have a question, something you want me to answer honestly?”
You were quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Have you ever done this before, with someone living here like me?”
“No, not like this,” he answered instantly, and it was good enough for you.
As he pulled you close again, you found yourself yawning, exhaustion catching up with you. Billy checked his watch.
“Looks like I’ve kept you up past your bedtime,” he joked, sitting forward and helping you to your feet. “We can continue getting to know each other tomorrow night, if you’d like.”
You nodded, barely even noticing that the pair of you were moving until you found yourself at the door to your rooms. His weight shifted from left to right, and you knew without looking that he was still hard. Your fingers tangled with his sweater at his waist and, for a few seconds, you just looked at him. Billy gave you a smile before pressing his lips to your forehead.
“Goodnight, little hummingbird. And remember, I’ll know if you break the rules.”
Biting your lip again, you nodded, and finally pulled yourself away from him and slipped through the door.
End Note : I never know what to say after the spicier chapters so... hope you enjoyed this and it lives up to expectations. Thanks so much for all the genuinely lovely comments and feedback over last four weeks, I'm loving how much people seem to be enjoying this story!! Hope you all have a great weekend!
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (Note: Tumblr is currently being stupid and only letting me tag five people at a time, so I'll be tagging people in the comments. Sorry if you get tagged twice!!)
Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl @rosey1981
#billy russo#billy russo x reader#billy russo fanfic#billy russo x female reader#the punisher#billy russo imagine#(ob)ts ff
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Tim acquires siblings:
Tim watched the January snow drift lazily down, a façade of calm punctuating a truly horrendous 24 hours.
He glanced down at the cast on the arm, and then at the towel that wiped off joker makeup and blood.
Tim relished the brief moment of peace in between being mother henned by Dick and Alfred. Bruce was down in the cave writing up the report.
He closed his eyes, how he managed to survive 10 hours of torture was beyond him.
He knew that he should be furious, terrified, or a crying mess, all normal responses to being tortured, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he felt was exhaustion and relief that the ordeal was over.
That's fine, he didn't need to address this trauma today, right now, all he had to do was rest. Tim drifted off to sleep.
Underneath the manor, Bruce finished typing up the incident report.
He nearly lost another Robin, and to the same villain no less. Had Joker been able to complete his plan, Bruce wouldn't have known what to do with himself.
First Jason, then Barbara, and now Tim.
Bruce called Barbara, just a check in with Oracle and his job would be done for the day. He could then go to sleep on the armchair next to Tim's bed.
He brushed the hair out of his face, "Oracle report."
Barbara's face popped up on screen, in a flat tone, she blandly stated, "There's nothing to report."
Bruce groaned inwardly, he knew what that tone meant.
He pleads, "Barbara please."
Barbara groans, "How could you let him get away again?"
Bruce starts, "Barbara we can't kill-" only to be cut off by Oracle. "I didn't say that you had to kill, I'm not even going to question why you resuscitated the Joker, but why on earth did you send him back to Arkham?"
Bruce rubs his eyes, " There wasn't any other option."
She scoffs, " Bullshit, you could have sent him to Blackgate or even to Belle Reve if you had pulled a couple strings. But no, you had to put him back in Arkham, where he lays low for a few months, only to break out and cause mass casualties all over again."
Bruce averted his eyes.
With a sigh she says, "Goodnight Bruce." and the feed cuts off.
Bruce stares at his reflection on the black screen. He swallows his pride and prepares for his vigil next to Tim's bed.
In the living room, Dick sat on the couch, cereal bowl in hand, watching some sort of game show.
The scene was in such stark contrast with how his day had gone so far, that he had to choke down a hysterical laugh.
Finding it impossible for him to focus on the show, he turned off the TV.
It was fine, they got Tim back safely and the Joker is still alive, and locked up in Arkham. He'd probably break out in a few months but they can deal with that then.
Dick didn't kill anyone, Bruce made sure of that.
No matter how hard he tried, his mind still lingered on the thought, "I could have killed him". But he didn't, and if there was ever anyone in the world who deserved to die, it would be the Joker.
If anything, he should be relieved if Joker died, after all that he'd done to Jason, to Barbara, and now to Tim.
Dick shuddered, a flash of shame jolting through his body, what would Jason think of him, putting his own sense of self righteousness over doing what needs to be done?
Dick got up and went to the kitchen to wash up. Those thoughts are best left for later. Right now, he has a baby brother to care for.
He saw Alfred ever dutifully cleaning up. The only sign that the usually stoic butler was drained were his bloodshot eyes.
Alfred reached out for Dick's bowl, only to be greeted with an apology.
"I'm sorry Alfred." They both knew that he wasn't referring to the bowl.
Alfred just sighs, "Not everyone is made to kill lad. I'm proud that you didn't break your oath." He paused, then said, "Although if the Joker and I ever crossed paths, it would end with a bullet between his eyes."
Dick nodded. Alfred looks up at him, "Get some rest lad."
Dick moved up to Tim's room and Alfred went back to the dishes.
It was going to be a long night.
#marked au#dick grayson#nightwing#batfamily#batsiblings#batfam#tim drake#red robin#robin dc#jason todd#red hood#batgirl#barbara gordon#oracle#alfred pennyworth#batman#bruce wayne#dc robin
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oh, i wrote this last night. reborn au, tori immediately after she ~trains with the hokage~
Tori staggered into the jounin breakroom feeling vaguely like she’d just walked directly through a tornado and came out alive only by some act of god. There were a handful of other people scattered across the tables in the room, including Kakashi. He snapped his copy of Icha Icha closed as soon as Tori stepped in.
She’d only ever seen Kakashi in the breakroom a handful of times, and each time he’d been there specifically to harass someone. She turned her back on him and headed over to the kitchenette along the far wall. Kakashi stood and waltzed over to her, somehow giving off both the air of being lazy and of being a cat stalking a mouse.
“Well?” Kakashi said, and she could hear the shit-eating grin in his voice even if she couldn’t see it. “How was it?”
Tori grabbed a cup from the drying rack and stepped around Kakashi to shove it under the hot water dispenser. A nice, soothing cup of tea would be great right now.
“You can tell me,” Kakashi said, selecting a tea bag from the basket at the end of the kitchenette’s bench for her. “We’re definitely full siblings now. Who else will understand?”
He offered her the tea bag. It was chamomile and lavender. Tori accepted it begrudgingly.
“It was confusing and humiliating,” Tori said through gritted teeth.
“Sounds about right,” Kakashi said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Do you feel like a genin right after your first mission?”
Tori dunked the tea bag a few times and pouted.
“....yes,” she admitted.
Kakashi leaned over her, the outline of his shit-eating grin just barely visible in the room’s fluorescent lighting.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, just shy of mocking.
“....no,” Tori muttered into her tea.
Fifteen minutes later, Kakashi was buying her a drink at a noisy bar and trying very hard not to laugh at her.
“I just don’t think it’s fair,” Tori rambled. “Do you know how many heavy-hitters I’ve sparred with? I thought I was immune to embarrassment by now. I thought I was done with it. What the fuck did I just do?”
“Did he smile and tell you a good job anyway?” Kakashi asked.
“That’s the worst part,” Tori said, burying her face in her hands. “He was nice the entire time.”
Kakashi patted her shoulder. “It’s only going to get worse.”
"What do you mean?" Tori asked, her face falling. "How?!"
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confiteor (WILL YOU EVER LOOK UP AGAIN?) — sunday
summary. the bronze melodia is a position that requires weariness, empathy, and patience. unfortunately for sunday, he receives far more than he expects through the voice in the window.
notes. i’m ashamed. this is dedicated to the anon that held me at gunpoint and forced me to post this to tumblr. otherwise, you can read it here.
warnings. mdni. this is LONGGG it’s about 7k words. religious themes, religious guilt, explicit sexual content, very inappropriate use of a confessional, mild degradation but in a religious way, reader is AFAB i fear and uhh. indecent and guided mutual tug sessions, if you catch my drift.
“Next. Please, step forward.”
Sunday had heard it all before. Timid footsteps, hushed whispers, skin stretching as the person trembled and fidgeted. It was always confronting to sinners, to step close to his voice and absolve.
Nothing truly shocked him anymore. He’d fallen in a state of numbness, in taking this position. A Bronze Melodia, as it was called.
He’d heard murder confessions, perjury, disloyalty, misconduct, everything. He had to grow used to it; this was his job. To forgive, to press his fists into palms beyond the confessors' sight line, and pretend he was as all-forgiving as he appeared to be.
He had learned to hold his voice steady.
Sunday found himself absentmindedly fixing his sleeves, though they already sat perfectly on his wrists.
What he could never predict was whether the person behind the window was here to absolve, or to mock the Aeons. It was always a guessing game for him; perhaps that’s what kept him from straying too far from the path.
The position was tedious, though patience was a virtue of his. He liked to akin himself to an adaptable man, warping his words and honeying his rather monotonous tone to that of reassurance. A false promise of hope, if you will.
He was good at that. Humans were exceedingly predictable in most of their actions; he had learned as such and had tried to drill the knowledge and dangers of the species into his dear sister, too.
Humans were cruel. Robin had never believed him, even in the feats of his struggles as a child, how one of the wings below his ear was mercilessly snapped in an act of child’s play. Child curiosity, it was dubbed as, though to him, it felt more like hatred.
He remembered crying that night, with his right-wing bandaged by his caregiver, and Robin had to remain in his room and sing him to sleep.
Now, it was different.
Quiet shuffles of footsteps were heard. He could tell they were the last recipient remaining, for the muted idle chatter of attendants had faded, and the sun was beginning to set. Members of kinship and the like would return home and sin, and then enter the church begging for forgiveness tomorrow. A never-ending, boorish and lonely cycle.
How shy. He listened to apprehensive slow steps until he heard the click of sharp heels stop just short of the window.
“Come to me, my devotee. I have sought THEIR presence within us.” Sweet words, peppered with powdered sugar poured from his tongue. “Tell me… what ails you such?”
The quiet intake of a breath, sharp and hushed.
Curious, Sunday leaned against the interior wall, just barely closer.
When there was no answer, he added, “do not be afraid. I am here to forgive. I cannot judge you.”
Another harsh inhale.
And then, “I apologise, Reverend.”
“Not at all.” A small, gentle smile pulled onto his lips. You could not see him through the box, and he made sure to stay clear of the iron bars of the window, but he hoped you heard the warmth and comforting sweetness in his tone. “Are you new to the congregation? Your voice is unfamiliar.”
He heard the shuffling of clothes. A pause, and then a wilting, “yes– no, sir.” Another pause, longer than the last. “I have not visited the confessional, but I do sometimes attend service.”
Sunday hummed curiously. “And what has prompted your change of heart?”
He heard the tapping of nails against the exterior of the box, pensive and thoughtful. Rhythmic, like in time to a tune he couldn’t quite place his finger on.
The setting, orange glow of the sunlight, partially tinted a deep bloodied colour through the stained glass windows of the church, crept further through the bars of the confessional as it drew closer to the horizon. The light was warm on the lick of his fingertips that rested close to the frame.
The persistent tap, tap, tap sounded like an agitated display of impatience. Like a song of trepidation and dread, yet much too quick to be sorrowful. Excitement, perhaps?
Then, there was the hard swallow of a lump in their throat. He heard it through the wall.
“I fell in love with a man.”
Their voice, your voice, rang clear as if you were standing next to him without the muffle of the confessional in between his body and yours.
Sunday’s eyes flitted to the wall by his head as if he could see you through the wood.
He said nothing.
Speckles of dust caught in the setting orange sun from the stained glass windows.
“A beautiful man,” you continued softly. “Generous, kind, considerate…” Your voice tapered off like a votive candle flickering in the breeze.
Sunday remained quiet, choosing instead to focus on the soft beating of his heart in his ears, and the sound of your breathing.
There was another ruffle of clothes—a blazer perhaps? It sounded like stiffened cotton or something as luxurious as pure wool. He wondered if such a material could be purchased by someone so common. Wool was a fleeting thought; an easy purchase with the wave of a credit card.
There was a pregnant pause, as if you, too, did not know what to say.
“Is he a bad man?” Sunday inquired encouragingly, still soft and eloquent.
A hiss of an inhale.
“No, not at all.”
Still, nothing.
Sunday watched the wall for a moment, imagining a figure on the other side fidgeting nervously. He could hear the tussle of form-fitted clothes shifting back and forth as if the devotee had been unable to stand still.
“I offer my sincerest apologies,” he started gently. “But I fail to understand any wrongdoings in your confession.” He prompted his voice to remain even. Patience. All in due time. “If he is as truly good a man as you put it, then there is nothing I see to absolve.”
“It’s not him,” you tried. There was a drone in your tone, as if you were trying to defend yourself. “It’s who he is.”
“An unattainable man, I presume? Or, is he perhaps forbidden?” The pressure was light. He was not so much forcing or coaxing words from your throat, but to embolden you instead.
He heard you hum nervously in agreement. He thought it to be a reply to both of his questions.
“Is it his status?”
Another uncomfortable tussle of clothing.
“Yes, sir.” He heard you lean against the confessional through the strain of the wall. “He is a holy man.”
“Ah… a man of the church?”
“I cannot want what I cannot have,” you dwelled softly. “I know the answer is to let go, but it has been months, and I have grown worse.”
Sunday hummed. Quite the predicament indeed. Such a precious scenario, though. Somebody ordinary in love with the unordinary. So sweet, like fruit growing on a tree in a sacred garden.
The tragedy of unattainable romance was fleeting for the congregation. Even Robin, his dear sister, a truly devoted romantic at heart, could never commit herself to a person. To worship another, and to take eyes from Xipe, would be worth a painful, slow and torturous death unlike no other.
Grotesque and twisted, like the many priests before him, who had been slashed and severed for their transgressions.
To turn your back on The Family–
He willed the thoughts away.
“I do hear you. I pray for your struggles.” His gloves pressed to the window. “But, it is not unreasonable, nor a defiance of the Holy, to be in love with a man of the church.”
“That’s the thing. It’s beyond love, Reverend,” you said, hoarse and strained, like you’d raked a hand down your jugular. “It’s everything.”
The shift of clothes again. This time, a hand brushed against a zipper, though there was no tug at the clip. He listened attentively, like a song he’d never heard before.
The stretch of clothes around skin, the glimpse of an expensive leather shoe from the corner of his eye, and attire inappropriate for the church. Exposed legs, too much skin, a low neckline of a shirt. Patterned stockings following black embroidered flowers and thorny stems travelled up bare legs like serpents.
“I want to ruin him.”
There it was.
“I want it so he thinks no more of the Aeon he worships, and only of me.”
His lips only barely parted at what he was hearing. A startled quiet breath escaped him.
He heard the skin of your knuckles pull taught into fists. They tapped against the wood.
“But it’s wrong of me to think this way, so I humbly request your blessings, Reverend, even if I–” You paused. Sunday flinched when a hand pressed against the iron bars, dreadfully close to the feathered wings beneath his ears. “There’s something bad inside of me. I need your help.”
Never had he heard something like this. A sinner be so outwardly humble and honest in their speech; to admit that you were wrong. To admit that your behaviour was treacherous and ghastly.
And to pine after a man of worship and unbreaking devotion.
To defy the Lord. To fight teachings, to fight him and his words. A stubbornness like no other, and one so incredibly shameful and distasteful, and yet, you still carried a weight of guilt heavy on your chest.
Another shudder of a breath. Another pitiful, desperate noise. All to receive his good graces.
“I don’t ask for forgiveness anymore. I don’t think I even deserve your blessings, sire. I don’t think anybody does.” Maybe he would agree with you, and maybe he wouldn’t. Instead, he leaned against the wall and stared up towards the ceiling of the confessional. “I only ask to hear your voice.”
Sunday’s breath hitched at the suspicious sound of a zipper being tugged, roaming hands, far too purposeful in their placement. He didn’t wish to imagine where your fingers travelled.
Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut.
“If you have convinced yourself that nothing can be done, then why would you seek me?” he asked, a waver in his tone. His ear pressed to the wall again, cold against his warm skin. “…If you think you cannot be absolved, then I am unable to help you.”
“I want relief,” was all you said. You pressed against the confessional. “Blessed Reverend, I want you to relieve me.”
Sunday was at a loss for words. He was listening attentively again.
You did not ask for forgiveness, peaceful solitude, or punishment. He did not understand what you were referring to specifically, choosing instead to pull delicately at the tips of his gloves. They suddenly felt constricting, like they’d grown a size too small for his hands.
Usually, he’d refrain from mindless fiddling and fidgeting. Something was different now.
Something warm ran from the pit of his stomach up to his neck.
It was vile. Like a serpent’s tongue following the rigid bone of his spine towards the nape of his neck. Warm and forked, like a pitchfork wielded in the hands of the irreverent.
The slimy body of the snake would twist and coil around his neck, squeezing the delicate flesh, marring it, coercing more sweet honey from his tongue until you were writhing.
The localised swelling heat curling in his stomach burned hotter when your breathing faltered and strayed from its natural rhythm.
It faltered too immorally to be mistaken for a simple hitch, or an error in your presentation. It was not a reflection of apprehension, nor fear.
It was–
“Would you be honest with me?” Sunday asked gently. His trembling hands curled into fists, still pressed against the wall and out of view of the window. “I only ask one answer of you.”
“Of course.” Strained, weak, unsure. Another pathetic attempt of an even breath left your lips. The aroma of something rich and sweet wavered through the bars of the window. “Anything for you.”
How depraved. Indecent, perverse. Your tone was repulsive, and so incredibly honest.
He heard the sound of something slippery, like the swallowing of spit in your mouth, or perhaps something far far more obscene.
He was tempted to move closer, to bite at the hand that fed him.
Your devotion was corrupt, focused solely on the sound of his breathing from inside the confessional. You were not here for redemption.
The box grew warm with his shaken breaths.
“Then, pray tell…” His temple rested against the interior of the confessional, and something hot and vile stirred in his stomach, like fiery pits of devastation. Like claws from a being unforeseen by Aeons above. “Are your hands between your thighs?”
You let out a stuttered gasp.
Sunday closed his eyes and tried to control his shaken breathing. His perfectly fitted clothes suddenly felt too tight, too restricting, every crease and fold tattering and ruined heating skin.
He swallowed thickly, wings barely catching on the window of the confessional.
“I’m not–” Your hands abandoned their position and pressed to the window, the diagonal frames digging into your soft flesh. The pad of your longest finger shimmered in the setting sunlight. “–I’m wrong. There’s something wrong with me.”
His gloved nails dug into his thighs. The dove white trousers stretched with the pressure.
He could not see you fully, no, for if he could, he was afraid he’d throw the door open, drag you into his lap and satisfy that burning ache that ricocheted in his stomach.
“To think of you this way,” you continued meekly. “It’s disgusting and vile and I need you to help me.”
He had to agree with you, though his fingers pressed just shy of the borders of the window. He almost grabbed your hand and dragged his tongue up your finger.
He felt the same. Hot and sticky, clothes clinging to him like they’d been doused in glue. The feeling pressed into his burning skin like a fragrance of saffron and black peppers.
That seductively enticing aroma of your perfume that lingered through the gaps in the windows. Honey and dessert, and the salty smell of your sweat. He did not eat sweets anymore; that sweet tooth was long left to dust and decay, and yet his mouth watered.
He felt as though he was being tempted to bite into something that held dire consequences.
Desperate to relieve the burning below his skin, Sunday unbuttoned his blazer. “Do you wish to be absolved?”
“I–” He heard you shuffle. The telltale swish of cloth. The click of heels. You’d dressed up for him, even if he couldn’t see you, and you couldn’t see him. Even your painted nails he peered at; a dark navy blue, like the wings at his waist that stretched in relief when he freed them from the confines of his jacket. “I don’t deserve it.”
“So, why did you come?” he asked. The larger, navy blue wings were much too big for the small perimeter of the confessional, but anything was better than to feel as restricted as he was.
His gloved hands pressed to the window now.
He wanted to touch you.
God, no. He couldn’t think like this.
He wanted his fingerprints branded into your skin, to stain every inch of your flesh like cigarette burns, forever marring the perfection.
“To relieve myself.”
Sunday smiled, and it was pained. You heard it in his tone. “How honest.” His temple pressed onto the cool wooden box again, leaning as close as he could to your voice. “Aren’t you ashamed?”
His forehead pressed to the wood beside the window, out of view. The orange rays of the sun setting outside licked upon his fingertips that curled over the iron bars. The warmth felt cold.
“Very,” was all you said.
Sunday fought the urge to moan, pressing his teeth into his tongue and hissing at the pain.
This was wrong.
He couldn’t stop himself.
“Go on, then. One hand. Relieve yourself.”
He heard a muffled sigh of relief. Perhaps you, too, had pressed yourself against the exterior of the confessional. The only thing parting you from his body was a thin slide of wood.
A sacred sanctuary that you would reform from pure selfishness.
One of the hands on the window abandoned its firm grip around the frames, and he heard a quiet gasp.
It was quickly cut off.
“Let me hear you,” Sunday whispered through the window. A gloved hand raked down the side of the window, and his head knocked against the corner of the confessional. His halo suddenly felt like a crown of thorns, weighted and punishing.
He would indulge.
If you were here to ruin him, then he would indulge.
He heard a wet squelch that made him shiver. His other hand had absentmindedly crawled up his thigh, trembling to remain flat on the seat. The skin below his trousers was pulled taught and had grown sensitive.
You moaned, and it was so close to his ear that his spine snapped straight. His fingers brushed over his straining cock beneath his belt.
The awful, awful, yet so beautiful sounds that tore from your throat left him reeling for more. For his mind to fill in the blanks, squeezing his eyes shut tight until even the light from the window was shunned out of his eyelids.
“Slow your hand,” he whispered. “Enjoy yourself properly.”
The squelching slowed significantly after only a moment of hesitation. He heard you continuously pant like a helpless mutt, confused, perhaps frustrated, too.
The other hand still curled as tight as it could around the iron diagonal bars of the window shook with reckless abandon.
Debauch sin felt good. Like a drug. Like alcohol washing down his throat and filling his stomach. So, so good, like the slide of his hand up his shirt. His other hand, much less secure, fumbled with the golden buckle of his belt.
He wondered if you felt the same. “How will you sleep tonight?”
“I won’t,” you whispered hoarsely. He was sure your appearance was something to match the rasp of your voice. “I will toss and turn.”
As will he. He’ll lay on his side, tangled between freshly washed white sheets and feathered pillows, and touch himself. He knows it so. He feels the strain of his palm tracing along the hot skin, thumbing the beading slit while he thinks of your perfume.
His cock twitched in the confines of his pants when the heel of his palm knocked against his tip. So hot, and so difficult to breathe. This box was not made to entertain whores, nor himself.
Sunday managed to unbuckle his belt. The leather straps smack against the side of the box.
You’re so wet. He can hear you through the confessional, and a dreamy sigh escapes his nose.
“How many fingers are inside of you?” He couldn’t quite tell. His hands curled into fists.
“Just one, sire.”
Sunday huffed, thumbing the button of his trousers around his waist. The claws in the pit of his stomach had returned, scratching and marring the inner walls and slicing through the bubbles of acid, desperate to be set free. It hurt.
He could imagine how you felt. He could imagine everything; the rhythmic sound of a single finger sliding in and out of the pretty wet hole between your legs. Pressing your body against the exterior of the box, desperate to feel the cold wood against your burning skin.
Your finger being hugged tight inside of you, pressing and dragging along sensitive nerves deep near your womb.
He was a mess.
Hair frazzled, halo dimming and fading when the light angled into the box just right, wings twitching, battling a game of whether he was to wrap them around himself or spread out as wide as they could.
You must’ve heard the zip of his fly undone, for you gasped, and your finger sped up accordingly. That same wet squishing of your poor poor limbs trying to accommodate how shameful you’d become.
His teeth caught on the tip of his glove and pulled the material off. The white cotton fell to the floor uselessly.
“You must be so lonely,” you said to him through the window. “So deprived.” He felt the fanning of warm breath against his ear. “I can fix that.”
Sunday, attentively listening with glowing cheeks, slowly freed his cock from his pants. A sigh slipped past his wet lips.
A different sound echoed from between your legs, and you groaned as close to his ear as you could.
“I want to hear you, Reverend.”
His hand dragged up his cock and he moaned. It was a shameful display of sincerity, and he wished he had bit his tongue again. Instead, he panted against the wood of the confessional, and muttered, “touch yourself.”
A wet noise that made his hips shift forward into his hand told him your finger had abandoned your insides, instead dragging up to play with that precious bundle of nerves.
He heard the stretch of skin, the shift of whatever clothes you had kept on yourself, and what you had thrown to the side. You were leaning against the box; your scent was stronger, that perfume and something sweeter, mixed with the salt and sweat of your skin.
He only hoped your thighs were as parted as his were. One of the sides of his knees knocked gently against the wall of the confessional.
So wrong. So shameful, so blasphemous, to do this, to please you and please himself to the thought of you, and then exit the church as if it had never happened. As if he wasn’t trapped fucking his palm like a mutt in heat, unable to control the panting and the incessant whispers of groans that escaped his lips.
Cum beaded at his slit, sticky and dribbling down to the base of his tip.
He wanted nothing more than to heave the door open, taste the slick that ran down your legs, and then bend you over the nearby podium and–
“So wet,” he murmured through the window. The only response you formed was a whimper. “So shameless. Do you feel guilty?”
“O-of course,” you tried. It was pathetic between the hot coiling in your stomach, like a deadly serpent curling around its prey and squeezing. “Do you?”
Sunday tried to imagine a hot tongue cleaning the mess of his cock, tracing the cum pooling at the base and flattening against his tip, angling just right to press into his slit flushed an angry scarlet, like wine and blood.
He could imagine ruining you for any other man. To slam his hips up against yours, to drag the head of his cock along those plush velvety insides until you were sobbing, struggling to accommodate him. He imagined you’d be perfect.
If only he could do all of those things without repercussions.
Tracing the swollen veins of his cock while you played with yourself with wet fingers was already too far. He could foresee punishment on his behalf and yours. Perhaps death, though neither of you deserved such luxury.
He did not answer.
Instead, he asked, “will you return?” His voice was shaky at best, and filthy at worst.
There was a hopeful twinge to his tone. He prayed you did not hear it.
You hesitated. There was a waver in your tone. “I shouldn’t.”
Your voice sent his mind reeling. He was thumbing at his slit while his thighs trembled. When his palm was coated in enough of his cum, he continued dragging his hand up and down the head of his cock.
He was growing dizzy. “But?”
“But I will.”
“This shouldn’t happen again,” Sunday heaved. His hand grew desperate, wetter, and the urge to pull the door of the confessional off its hinges and take you on the floor and away from the stained glass windows where the sun peered through was filling his senses. He yearned to know what you felt like squeezing around him. “You should not let this happen again.”
“I need you, Reverend,” you confessed. “If I am honest, my sins will be atoned for. As will yours.”
“You will not touch me tonight, and I will not touch you.” It was final. Without room for argument, though he sounded somewhat disappointed.
“But what about tomorrow night?”
Sunday breathed against the wood, tugging at his collar and rolling his hips into his hand. “If you return, I will punish you for it.”
“You tempt me, Reverend,” you said through a moan. “I will think of you tonight.” Your fingers had returned to your hole. He’d recognised the noise, somehow more obscene than it had been before.
His cock ached with hatred. How you would feel dripping down him like an unsatiated whore, trying so desperately to ask for his forgiveness, to try and seduce Godhood.
He hoped you felt empty. He hoped you hungered for his cock through the wall, breathing erratic and loud as his palm dragged along the length of hot skin over and over again.
Ecstasy filled his throat and every vein in his body. Goodness, the edge was glorious. He pilfered off the side for a moment before he stopped his hand.
His cock twitched in agony and he let out a groan that tapered off.
“Don’t you dare cum,” he snapped through the box.
You whined, but your hand obediently stilled
“I would imagine you’re filthy now.” He pressed his forehead to the cool wood. The surface heated up along with his skin almost instantly. It was so hot here. “Use your fingers again.”
“How many?”
So obedient. He almost purred at your behaviour. “Two.”
Oh, he spoiled you. That familiar sound again, so wet and warm and inviting, and you were moaning and shivering around your own hand. He could imagine slippery slick pooling along your palm now, lathering your fingers like a thin paste.
His own fingers found the flushed swollen tip of his cock again. It twitched in his palm. There was a greedy puddle of cum forming at the base of his cock now, and he quickly wiped drool from his lip.
Already frazzled from the orgasm he’d denied just mere minutes ago, your breathing grew louder and louder, though not alarming enough.
“Touch yourself again,” he rasped out. His halo was now a liability, too ironic. His wings were cramped against the interior walls, desperate to be let out. Wet fingers rubbed along his tip in rhythm with the sound of your own moving against yourself, drawing wet slippery rings around that adorable swollen bundle of nerves between your legs.
He hopes you struggle to cum tonight without his guidance. It’s a fleeting thought, but it makes his thighs lock and freeze against the seat.
He hopes you never find any satisfaction in another man. Wouldn’t that be a spectacle? A mindless bumbling whore stumbling after a High Priest, another Bronze Melodia.
You were murmuring his name now in a never ending chant of prayer.
Saliva caught in his throat as he breathed.
“Rub that pretty clit harder, will you?” Still in tune with your second hand that had finally pulled off of the bars to trace around the rim of your hole. He tried his best to keep up with the noise, eyes still wound shut.
You were hopeless. Struggling at the ministrations like a squirming worm caught on a hook. Your knuckles knocked against the confessional before your fingers slid into yourself.
This was heaven.
He knew it so, no matter how wrong it felt. It was a feeling, not the real thing; never the real thing. Not after tonight, but he could live with himself, if he ended up buried inside of you.
His tip bubbled and drooled at the thought of it.
You taught him self indulgence. And as sinful as it was, as wicked as it felt to buck his hips into his own palm, slick with need and sweat and dribbles of saliva that had fallen from his lips, he loved every pull of his skin.
Oh, it was awful. And it was so good. So treacherous, so disgustingly unholy, so blasphemous and insulting to do this in the very place he’d learned to be sacrificial and sanctified. Where he’d sit on the confessional with a heavy halo and a light heart and try to feel for the heathen on the other side of the window.
Spills of moans and moans left your lips, fingers working at that pace he had commanded of you. Your palms must have been soaked in your own slick now, the delicate flesh between your legs swollen and dark with blood.
He wanted to touch you.
It took everything at this point to keep the door shut. Like a woman being tempted by a serpent to bite into a forbidden fruit off of a large tree. He was sure you would have also indulged, had he offered you a slice of the fruit.
“I’m–” You couldn’t finish the sentence. The wood of the box groaned beneath the shared weight. “I need to–”
Oh. The scent was delicious. The hissing of a snake in his ears, the watchful eyes of a nightingale from somewhere far away, the taste of a sweet fruit running along his tongue.
He hoped you returned.
“Go on. Isn’t that what you came for?” He dared to say more, but instead bit down on his lip.
You bit down first on the fruit.
You came much more broken than he would have expected, and his hands paused around his cock to listen to that gorgeous melody. The drawn out whine came out more as a sob, fingers still drawing tight and hard circles around your clit as your hole clenched around weakened fingers.
Such a beautiful noise. You sounded as though you were struggling through wet heaves, filthy soaked fleshed between your thighs, skin tattered in sweat and bathed in the sunlight just barely peeking above the horizon from out of the window.
You whispered his name like a prayer. A pitiful drone, as if you’d become fully aware of your transgressions.
Wet fingers returned to the window.
His hot breath cooled the slick stuck to your skin, but Sunday kept his tongue pulled behind his teeth. Did you feel empty? Did you want more? Did you also want to pull open the door to the confessional and take him in the seat?
Your voice was weak. “Sire…”
Your tone rippled beneath his skin. His face was on fire. His hand sped up.
“How close are you?”
A whine ripped from his throat. “So close.”
He heard you breathe a hoarse laugh and his feathers raised behind his ears, and it was still one of the most ethereal tunes he’d ever had the honour to listen to.
His wrist grew tired, but he pressed on, thumbing at the overtly sensitive tip and his bubbling slit that wept in tandem. He watched your fingers against the window closely, imagining the heat of your flesh curled around his cock instead.
His cock twitched and twitched in his palm, and his hips raised off the seat for a moment.
Sunday heard you swallow. A hum rumbled in your throat, low and pretty.
He was sure you could hear how slick he was. It was humiliating how hard he’d grown just from the sound of you.
The wings below his ears were crushed against the wooden wall. The bones ached, but he ignored everything in favour of the sound of your breathing so close to his ear.
The sun had now drowned below the horizon.
“Cum, sir.” What a pretty plea. Your fingers tightened around the bars of the window. “Please.”
Sunday gasped, his own knuckles pulling back and knocking the other wall of the confessional as his hips twitched and twitched and he squirmed and his cock felt as though it was going to burst.
He came then, almost weeping as his teeth sunk into his sore knuckles. The sharp vertices of his halo felt weightless and warm, and his shirt felt just as constricting as it had before he’d come undone.
It was like fire oozing from him. Cum dribbled from his tip and painted his palms impossibly stickier than before. What fell from his hands pooled into a puddle on the seat and he grimaced.
An angry and raw garble escaped his throat at your words; who were you to do this to him? How could you do this to him—his cock twitched again, this time violently, as if aching for another round. His palm pressed heavy to his tip, still flushed that beautiful scarlet, and fattened with blood, experimentally giving it another drag along his palm.
Sunday’s hips jutted forward into his hand again. A discomforting chill ran up his spine and remained at the nape of his neck.
Viciously, he tore his hand away from his cock, staring at his sullied hand as if it had betrayed him. Maybe it had, you see, for he had no foresight his body would succumb to such temptations.
His body should not have succumbed. He should not have succumbed.
This was beyond his teachings; cardinal sin and disloyalty to Xipe, whom he praised every night with withering and wavering hands.
And now they were tainted.
“Just a taste, Reverend.”
Sunday’s spine stiffened as if a hot metal rod had replaced the bone.
His skin ached and his teeth vibrated with disgust. Sacrilege. That’s what it was. Vengeful and spiteful, much unlike sweetened delectable fruits off of a tree in the Garden of Eden. This should not have happened. You shouldn’t have ever come here.
He had an inkling of a feeling, as fleeting and dull as it was, that you did not feel guilty for your actions.
His teeth gritted, and his jaw ached in accordance.
Wretched thing.
Sunday, disgusted in his actions, ignoring the beads of sweat pooling down his neck like pearls, held out the degloved hand tainted in his cum through the gap in the window.
A tongue curled around his fingers, hot and heavy, and dragged up from the tip of his nails to his knuckles.
He resisted the urge to make a noise, instead catching his tongue in his teeth and biting down enough to draw blood.
His cock was swelling with blood again, tip flushed and leaking once more. He refused to touch himself again. He had already ruined the tranquillity of the church. He had already ruined you.
Sunday’s fingers twitched in your mouth before they dragged down your tongue.
When he was sure you were done, and his hand was covered in your spit, he grabbed your chin and drew you as close to the window as he could.
There, he managed to catch a glimpse of your face.
Sweaty, mangled, ruined, and so imperfect that his cheeks fill with blood at the sight of you. Your image is ruined by the light from the still burning votive candles from the completed service hours ago that shines behind you, branding the crown of your head like a halo.
Sunday assumed he looked worse.
“You will speak of this to no one,” he rasped. “Not ever.”
“No, sir,” you whispered. There was an impervious grin stretched into your lips. “It’ll be our little secret.”
“The second I hear wind that you’ve been sharing this night with those undeserving, I’ll rip your tongue from your filthy throat.”
You exhaled shakily. There were stars in your eyes.
Sunday’s eyes narrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Of course.”
He let go of your chin and tossed you as far as he could backwards through the window of the confessional. You teetered, wobbly in your position of kneeling, before you briskly stood up.
He couldn’t bear the sight of bare legs, so he looked away and shrunk down into the corner of the box, out of view of the sunlight, and the barred window.
Sunday did catch a glimpse of those expensive shoes. Too expensive, too fancy for a church setting. Your clothes were the same, too form fitting to be dubbed appropriate in such a sacred place.
How could you appease to THEM if you were dressed to seduce their messengers?
He said nothing, did nothing, silently wallowing in pitiful hatred as white hot pin pricks of one thousand needles formed behind his eyes. His wings curled around his waist.
He let out a breath that caught in his throat.
“Goodnight, Reverend,” was all you murmured to him.
Your fingers retreated from the window.
Sunday attentively listened to the sound of your footsteps. He hoped he could be forgiven for this. He watched the ceiling with disdain.
When he heard you leave, and the telltale slam of the door shutting behind you, he retracted his hand still coated in your saliva and thumbed at the tip of his cock.
Your spit slid so easily against him.
He shuddered, and then he moaned. It echoed along the walls.
Silently praying for forgiveness, and covering his eyes with his other hand in the process, he drowned once more in solitude.
#$. after hours#$. the macrocosmos#sunday x you#sunday x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader
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Chapter 1 draft 1 (its technically draft 2 but we don't talk about that one)
It was a pleasant night in Miyazaki, the wind was low and the temperature of the air was a pleasant chill. The full moon illuminating the few corners untouched by the streetlights. The only shadow cast came in the silhouette of the stranger who made their way swiftly down the street, long striding steps causing their cloak to billow around and behind them despite the non-existent wind.
There is the vague outline of a bundle, disappearing in and out of folds of black fabric. The stranger holds it close to their chest as if to shield it from view of their surroundings. Not that anyone who might catch a glimpse here would care much more than to gossip the oddity over a lunch break the next day. But the strangers appearance alone is enough to spike that curiosity.
-
Further down the street is the hose of Kuroo Tanoshi and Keriena, marked by a goofy Halloween skeleton with a now empty bowl in hand and a sign reading "take one" in spiky characters.
Kuroo Tanoshi was a well built man with neat black hair and warm brown eyes that could see into your soul. He was a kind man who valued the comfort of those around him, often more than his own, much to his wife's chargin.
He worked at a small chemist, preparing prescriptions and identifying worrying customers' maladies. While the pay was not the most ideal, he would often state that he "wouldn't take any jobs over it", finding happiness in aiding those who came to him.
Keriena Kuroo was a confident woman, with a toned body that didn't quite match the heavily pregnant silhouette she currently supported. Her long dark brown hair was cropped short underneath and her eyes were dark enough to be black. Tanoshi would often declare that they held all the stars of the night if their depths.
While currently on maternity leave, Keriena had still been burrying herself into her work, unable to stay out of the loop for even a week, let alone three. She worked as a detective and field agent in the local law enforcement with a 89% success rate in her field.
Keriena is seated at their dinner table as Tanoshi stands in their kitchen, cleaning the plates from the evening's meal. They chat amicably about Tanoshi's day and plans for their unborn son.
The conversation finds its way to forgein politics and Keriena mentions that it's been a year since the end of the mass murders in London. The news had spread quickly around the world at the time. The sudden end to an eleven year war was bound to cause ripples, even in Japan.
No one was certain how the cult leader had died. There were speculations in Keriena's workplace of course; bombs, gas leaks, structural damage enough to crush the leader, even the occasional suggestion it was suicide for one reason or another.
The Potters had been the only ones home that night, the young couple and their son. At the end of the incident, the only member left unaccounted for was 1 year old Harry. Neighbours had heard him crying in an upstairs room after the incident but when responders got up there, there was no baby in sight.
It sparked a huge search at the time. But no reports or reminders had been put out about it since June. One baby, no matter how symbolic, wasn't worth the time and money when you were rebuilding from a war after all. The boy who lived, forgotten, reduced to a title to stir action.
A quiet fell momentarily as the couple sat in contemplation. Tanoshi with his mouth set in a grim line, never one for such sour endings, as he finished in the kitchen and moved back towards the table. He bent to hold his wife for a moment, to thank the spirits that both her and their son were safe, that they had no need to fear such dangers.
A knock echoed from the front door. Three strong raps and then silence.
The couple traded looks, not expecting anyone at this time, moat of the trick-or-treaters having dwindled off an hour ago. Tanoshi, slightly spooked but never one to let others down, stepped away to answer the door anyway. Keriena a short ways behind him, curious and cautious.
There was nothing visible through the peep-hole but Tanoshi proceeded to unlock and open the door eyes automatically scanning the front garden and along the street for figures. It was Keriena's gasp that made him look down. Following her gaze to their doorstep his eyes found a small bundle.
Neatly wrapped in green cloth, clutching a letter in one small chubby hand was a little boy with a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. He couldn't have been much older than two, tiny face, framed by messy black hair scrunched in some sort of dream as he sat there, no other person in sight.
Picking up the child carefully, neither of the Kuroos noticed the soft crack as the stranger across the street turned on his heel and disappeared, only a corner of his cloak waving behind as he left. Harry Potter was safe for now, their job was done.
#i dont want to fandom tag this bc i dont want it to be found so theyre getting funky tagged#h/arry p/otter#h/aikyuu#i do not condone j/krowlings beliefs or actions but i will use her world as a sandbox to do as i see fit#robyn wips#robyn writes#mahori wips
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OnStage
a/n: replacing y/n with yan/yannchan; I think it’s a cute alternative ~ please love kuran with me with this idea I’ve had in mind to write since day ONE♡
I was told reader has the same energy as Maxine from X(2022) … do with that as you will lol
part 2 in progress (?)~
✦ •·································•✦ʚ♡ɞ✦•··································• ✦
Blinking a few times to properly adjust the contact lenses you’d just put in, you watched the blurry vision of yourself in the mirror slowly turn into a clear image. Beautifully dolled up with lash extensions and not a strand of hair out of place. You’d had to admit, you looked immaculate.
Adjusting the last final touches of your lip liner and the thin straps of your outfit, you gave the duel image of yourself a wink and a mocking kiss before skipping toward the exit of the dressing room.
It was difficult to recall exactly how long you’d been working under the Yotsurugi, but due to your late father leaving behind such a massive debt, it fell to you to pay off the rest.
It wasn’t as heartbreaking as it sounded; adulthood wasn’t exactly as glamorous as you had imagined it would be, after graduating school. Finding work was hard— hard enough that even your own father with an already established career had to even lean upon the Yotsurugi family for financial support to help get by.
When he’d finally kicked the bucket, an accident that was surely his fault anyway, loan sharks from Ikebukuro became adamant on receiving their fair compensation. Obviously having nothing else to give them, you meekly offered to pay the debt off fairly, with good-old-fashion labor.
Luckily, the boss of the Yotsurugi’s Ikebukuro branch had been lurking behind, in case there had been any fall out. Having taken a good long look at you, he agreed to your offer with a weak wave to follow them.
It became clear you weren’t the only one who had been caught in this type of situation. While it was obvious the Yotsurugi were a big deal in the crime syndicate, they were evidently merciful. You heard from a few other girls working along side you that Kongo Yotsurugi had advocating for fair debt repayment with no interest. You were lucky it was them, and not some other shady loan-sharks who would kill you to settle the score.
And just as mercifully, you’d been offered a few different occupational options on how you could work yourself to freedom; dishwashing, waitressing, stage cleaner… but nothing payed quite as good as stripping.
It was your own choice to take the job. And even though you knew in the back of your mind it wasn’t really your choice, you were happy.
There was a joy; a rush of excitement and endorphins that made you absolutely shine on stage. The roaring cheers, the glittering lights and dancing rain of money every night truly made you feel alive.
You weren’t sure how much longer it would take to pay off your debt, but you couldn’t help wishing it would never end.
Having lost yourself in the pleasure of dancing once again, your chest heaved with deep breaths, heart beating a million times per minute. You smiled so wide, giggling to yourself when finally meeting eyes with some of your regular visitors. They were so happy to see you. And the feeling made you soar.
Waving a cutesy goodbye and a final shake of your ass to the roaring crowd, you skipped back behind the stage and accepted the water handed to you by another girl.
“You were amazing again today yanchan ~”
“I know right, she’s like a fairy with the way she spins around the pole! I’m so jealous~” another girl squealed, hugging you tightly and spinning you around.
“Aww thanks babes! Good luck out there Aya!”
You kissed the girl on her cheek before sending her off.
Over the course of your stay, you had made many close friends with the girls you worked with. Some came and went, but you always got along well with them all, and all the new girls came to view you as a big sister of sorts.
No matter how you got into this line of work, or how disgusting others may call you and your friends, you were living a life where you were finally happy. You felt fulfilled in the work you did, the people you worked with, the bed you slept in, and the food you ate. You never wanted for anything more.
Life was actually good.
Robing yourself in a cute short skirt and a puffy jacket, you came out to the VIP floor to order a quick drink before your next dance.
“Leeeeo~ drink pleeasse!~” you sang upon your arrival. The bar keeper looked your way, your cute display earning you a side smirk and a chuckle. “Even’in Yan. Good show just now, looking as brilliant as ever.” He complimented before picking through the liquor in front of him to conquer up your favorite weekday drink.
“I’d say,” added in a chuckling older gentleman sitting just a few seats over from where you sat. “Haven’t gotten this worked up by a dance like that before.”
You smiled at his sideways compliment, and lifted your newly gifted glass to the man. “Im happy you enjoyed it sir~ I hope to see you for my next dance.” You winked, and began scooting off the stool. Before your feet met the ground, the man had successfully grabbed your hand to stop you.
“Don’t bother, I know what you’ve got girl. And I like it. I’ll be sure to compensate you for all the money you’ll lose out on by skipping your next stage show. Come dance for me in a private room, won’t ya?” He looked down at you with a suggestive gaze. It wasn’t like he was bad looking, older men had their charm, especially the ones who frequented this night club.
But you weren’t interested in private dances. The glory of the job was the high you got from being on stage, not the money you got from it.
You smiled politely, confidently snaking your hand to play with his fingers, before sliding them out of his grasp. “Thanks for the offer baby, but I’m booked~ throw me a band on stage and I might indulge you in a drink and conversation once I’m done, ‘kay?~”
The gentleman narrowed his eyes, and toed down the stool, grabbing onto your forearm this time. “Not interested in seeing the same thing over and over again. Only way you’re getting my money is in a private room, catch me girly?” He grew closer, despite your trying to pull away. “I got lots of it. Enough to buy you out, if you please me well. Promise.~” he slurred in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
Behind the bar, your bartender had already pressed the bouncer alert, acting cool. Clubs like these had rules—strict ones, after all.
You glared at the persistent man, loosing your gleeful attitude. “Not interested. I recommend taking that hand off me, ‘nless you wanna lose it, baby.” You spat sweetly back in his ear. The closeness sent shivers down his spine, but not with fear. He smirked at the excitement, thinking it was some kind of game. “I’ll take my chances.”
He tried pulling you with him, but before he has the chance to move a foot, a man with white hair and vibrant tattoos blocked the way. You immediately felt safe, heart pounding at the sight of your boss; Kuran Yotsurugi.
“Kuran!~” you sang happily, yanking yourself free from the older man, and hopped to hide behind your shirtless boss. “Sir didn’t wanna take no for an answer~” you pouted, but seemingly unphased, otherwise.
“And what was he asking?” He asked in monotone. “Wanted a ‘private dance’. Was giving me fuck-me eyes too… Made me feel grosss.” You answered, watching as the expression of the older man sink into fear.
“It wasn’t like that! She’s lying!” He groaned, trying to play it off as a misunderstanding. “Dancers these days are so full of themselv—-“ he began to ramble, before Kuran landed a solid right hook to the guest’s jaw. “Fact of the matter is you made one of my girls uncomfortable. That’s reason enough for me to kick you out.” Kuran squatted down to meet the man eye to eye.
“My girl said she said no, so the answer’s no. Simple. Understand?” He asked slowly, coming in close to make sure he was heard.
The man gulped, holding his face before nodding hurriedly. “I’ll be more careful in the future.” He accepted.
Kuran nodded back, and slapped the man on the back of the head before standing up. “You’re out. Don’t come back for a week. Make sure you learn your lesson, ‘n maybe then I’ll let you back in.”
Once all was said and gone, you giggled, clinging onto Karan’s arm. “Boss always comes to save the day~” you acknowledged, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder before he sighs. He patted your head roughly, and pushed you off with barely any force. “Just maintaining the order ‘round here. Would’a done it for any of the other girls too.” He huffed. You nodded, perching into a bar stool again.
“I know~ that’s what makes me love my boss sooo much after all. He’s always so considerate and protective of us~ A hero, a man among men!” You rambled in praise, making a few of the other girls who came upon witnessing the scuffle giggle. “We all appreciate your hard work in keeping this club a safe place for us to work.” You sealed your long winded praise, and finished off the drink you ordered just minutes ago.
The other girls began to fawn in a similar fashion, thanking Kuran for his ruthless display of protection.
He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at your rallied attention, and began walking away. “Shut up and get back to work.”
Despite his standoffish demeanor, you and everyone else knew just how good of a guy Kuran was, and aimed to please him however you could.
Your smile softened as you watched him walk off, yearning for the chance to truly express your gratitude, or the developing feelings of love you’d felt for him ever since he gave you this beautiful new life.
Blowing a kiss to him behind his back, you hopped off the stool, and skipped back behind stage to ready yourself for the final dance of the night.
#I couldn’t wait any longer#I had to post this now#negai no astro#negai no astro x reader#astro royale#astro royale x reader#Yotsurugi kuran#kuran yotsurugi#kuran#yotsurugi#yotsurugi x reader#kuran x reader#kuran Yotsurugi x reader
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I Will Say (I'm Fucked)
05/06/2024 - 05/10/2024
Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Reader
Word Count: 2,027
Warnings: The usual cursing; Y/N does the infamous Wattpad stuttering (it's only one line, I promise-)
Gender: AFAB
Tags: @viviennevermillion, @achy-boo, @savanaclaw1996, @otomyoli, @chroniccorvus
Notes: This is the third and final installment to this fic, so please read the previous two parts for more context!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
In which Leona finally asks out his favorite herbivore.
"Shit." Y/N hissed as she swung open the door to her dorm, only to reveal a certain blonde stalker outside.
"You're late Trickster~" Rook sang.
"I know, I know, don't tell Vil though-" You replied, eyes practically begging for him to give you a free pass.
"Seeing as you're not in Pomefiore..." He began, "I suppose I could let it slide this once."
You heaved a sigh of relief, until you felt that heave get locked in your throat at the sight of another person behind Rook.
Vil Schoenheit.
Vil Schoenheit was the house warden of Pomefiore, a house belonging to the esteemed Night Raven College (or NRC for short). He was a well-renowned actor, a celebrity in his own right, and possessed beauty that rivaled no other (except for maybe Neige in the eyes of some Rook). He was known for his strictness, but no one could deny the results that emerged from them (except for maybe Epel).
Vil Schoenheit was also a good friend of Y/N. One of her closest friends, in fact. And as such, his generosity knew no limits with her.
Hence why she was getting torn into pieces as the trio walked to their respective classrooms.
"Vil, as much as I love you, I will not hesitate to throw your new eyeshadow palette into the garbage if you don't stop harassing me in the hallways this morning." You told the beauty queen.
Seething, he replied, "You will do no such thing." Eyes steel cold, he walked a little faster ahead as he continued, "As a Prefect, I expect you to uphold certain virtues even if you do not have many people in your dorm.
You sneered at this.
"Don't tell me how to do my job Schoenheit."
"Then do it properly Prefect."
Rook watched as the two of you glowered over one another, simply happy to be basking in the presence of his friends (plus it was always amusing when you and Vil would argue). He knew that despite your differences, the two of you were as close as friends could be. Even your bickering was in loving nature.
Soon enough, you reached your class and the Pomefiore duo bade goodbye to you before making their way to their class. Smiling to yourself, you played the last five minutes in your head over and over, highlighting your favorite bits as you sat in your seat.
Mozus Trein was a very particular individual. The subject he taught wasn't necessarily popular amongst the students of NRC, but amongst the fair few who did enjoy the class was the Prefect of Ramshackle.
You.
History did by no means come easy to you, but seeing as you were in a completely different world and said world had magic in it, reading history books was more or less akin to reading fairytales. And there were so many of them-
In short, you were something of a fan of Twisted Wonderland's history.
And it showed great results.
"Well done again Y/N." Professor Trein smiled at you as he placed the test paper on your desk. "You seem to have done exceptionally well on the essay portion of your test."
You thank him and say, "Well, the history of Briar Valley is particularly fascinating."
"Every bit the teacher's pet, I see." The professor jested.
You gawked in response.
Class ended sooner than you wished (in your defense, it really was an interesting class), but the rumbling of your stomach opened avenue to better things in life.
In other words - lunch.
Walking alongside Grim, you meet the rest of your first year friends in the cafeteria. With your utensils in hand, you were oh so ready to dig in when a certain red-head interrupted you.
"Yo Y/N."
"What is it Ace?" You asked, annoyed at the timing he had.
"Leona's been watching you really intensely." He noted. But then his smile turned mischievous. "When'd you piss him off?"
Having had enough of him already, you smacked the back of his head, nearly breaking out a grin after hearing Deuce choke on his sandwich when he laughed at the action. "I didn't do shit Trappola. Don't jinx it-"
Rubbing the back of his head, he said, "You're fucking crazy, you know that, right?"
"Damn straight."
Jack, though not fond of the use of vulgar language, did also find the situation funny, and barely managed to conceal a snort as he ate his own food. Epel on the other hand felt no need to conceal his as he guffawed his enthusiasm all whilst bits and pieces of food fell out.
Unfortunately for Epel, he did not notice the looming figure of his house's warden steadily approaching him.
"It seems our lessons still haven't gotten through to you Baby Potato." Vil sneered as Epel whipped around to see him, clearly not expecting to see him. "No matter. I'll be sure to whip you into shape soon enough."
The rest of the first years watched as Epel visibly shivered at Vil's words and as he was dragged away by the said man.
"It's not fair! Y/N and Ace cursed too!"
Whipping his head around to glare at the other two perpetrators, Vil only shook his head before continuing to drag Epel to his immediate lessons.
Epel felt betrayed, and Ace's stink eye wasn't really making matters better.
Rook slunk around to you before anyone else could notice, and managed to say one thing before Vil called for him.
"Roi des Lions seems to be very interested in something in your direction my dear Trickster."
You looked around your friends, trying to determine if they'd heard what Rook had said, but Lady Luck seemed to be on your side because they were still busy watching Epel get dragged away.
Shooting Rook a glare as he went on his merry way to wreak havoc elsewhere, you decided to chance a peek at the lion who now two very annoying (but for some reason highly observant) people had mentioned was staring at you.
Sure enough, he was indeed staring at you.
Not in a smoldering way (which is what you assumed), but rather a lazy manner which befit his personality wholly.
And upon noticing you looking at him in return, Leona's lazy stare mutated into a sly grin (also befitting his personality wholly) before he finally turned his gaze to his food.
The interaction left you feeling a tad giddy, but mainly because he was such an intimidating figure. Not because you had a large sweltering crush on him or anything.
Oh wait.
We're done being in denial now, aren't we?
So maybe, just maybe, the giddiness could be attributed to the chemical infatuation you had with the man.
It was later on in the day, around the time that classes were ending for the day that you found Ruggie.
Or rather, Ruggie found you.
And boy was he weird as hell (weirder than usual, that is).
You noticed that the lavender-colored flower petal tangled in his scarf as he simply watched you for a full 5 seconds (yes, you counted), and then proceeded to do his little hyena laugh before saying "Have fun Y/N~"
However, Twisted Wonderland was full of weirdos, and if you gave every single one of them the time of your day, you'd be stuck the resident therapist. Not that you don't already do that.
Besides, you had to get to Professor Crewel's class, and no one wanted to be late for that-
This time, Lady Luck was not on your side because you had in fact been late (albeit by a few mere seconds), but it was enough to be called out in front of the whole class by Crewel and put a damper on your already dampered mood.
You couldn't wait for classes to be done with already-
Sucking it up, you propelled through the class, only to lose all motivation by the end of it, because Crewel had assigned homework. And a lot of it.
The homework in itself wasn't anything too difficult. If there was something you didn't know, all you had to do was reference a textbook, and that'd be it. The problem lied in the fact that Crewel had assigned a 1,500 word essay regarding any potion of the students' choice and they had to finish it over the weekend.
This was too much. Even for Crewel.
Grim wanted to go watch Ace's basketball practice with Deuce, and you figured that you could use the time alone and maybe even get a head start on your essay, so you walked with vigor back to Ramshackle.
When you got there, a tall figure rests against your door, and you nearly jump back in fright from the sight.
"Leona!? What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you."
Oooooh, that was smooth (although anything that came out of his mouth seemed smooth at this point).
Deciding to be a little braver than usual, you pranced right up to him, faking a confident smile and asked, "what for?"
And that's when a flurry of lavender was gently jolted into your line of sight.
It took a few seconds, but you were eventually able to will yourself to look at Leona instead of the flowers.
"I'm here to ask you out."
Now your heart had gone quiet too.
"Uh-" You started, "I-me?"
Real smooth.
"Who else for, Herbivore?" Leona asked, eyebrow raising questioningly.
"Just wondering," you make out meekly. So much for the brave confident girl act.
Trying to regain mobility in your arms, you tried to gracefully accept the flowers.
"You look like a mechanical doll." Leona commented on the strange way your limbs seemed to move.
That seemed to snap you out of your lovestruck daze as you grabbed the flower bouquet with one hand and hit Leona's arm with the other.
Not it felt awkward.
You still hadn't responded to the whole 'I came here to ask you out' thing and you'd also just slapped the guy (although it wouldn't have done any damage whatsoever on him) right after you grabbed the flowers he got for you.
You kinda wanted to disappear at the moment.
"So?" Leona prodded. Looking up at him again, trying to find the words, he continued "do you want to go out with me?"
You like to think it was his eyes. His eyes though intimidating, also bring some strange sense of calmness over you. And it was those eyes that made you answer him clear-headed.
"Yes. Yes, I do."
And now that you were a little more clear in the mind, you noticed how Leona's facial expression showed the tiniest bit of expression - relief. And that's when you realized that you weren't the only nervous person in this situation. Leona (although to what extent, you were unsure) was also anxious, clearly about what your answer, your decision would be.
"Great. I'll see you at The Winstonian next Friday at 7:00 P.M."
The Winstonian? That sounded fancy.
"I'll see you then Leona."
Nodding, Leona started walking away when you interrupted him with a question.
"Hey Leona? What's the dress code?"
"Just wear something formal."
That was a problem. You didn't have anything formal in your closet (aside from your NRC uniforms, but you really didn't think anyone would wear that to a first date-
Leona waited a moment to see if you had any more questions before sauntering off back to his dorm.
"Leona!"
He turned around.
Pushing your rapidly beating heart down your chest, you asked, "Can you help me with this essay I have to write for Crewel?"
It wasn't much, and sure, the date was in a week, but letting him go now seemed like such a waste. Maybe you could spend just a teensy bit of time with him before the big night.
Leona's eyes glowed a green ember.
"Sure Herbivore."
You couldn't help the grin from spreading on your face as you invited the lion into your dorm and at the idea of a totally not study date with him before the actual first date.
God you were so fucked for this man.
Author's Note: Alright, so this (not originally planned to be) series is officially over! I hope I did the last part justice and that you enjoyed reading it (not gonna lie, it feels like it's missing something), but I have decided that if I ever find out something that I want to add to this, I can always do so in the form of drabbles. Also, it's worth mentioning that the original idea I had for this story was that Leona would keep trying to ask out the reader, but fail a whole bunch of times before succeeding. I obviously went down a different route, but I might write that story idea separately (not affiliated with this series). Thank you for reading!
Masterlist
#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland oneshots#twst oneshots#oneshots#romance#platonic#friends#asking out#nrc#i won't say i'm in love#leona kingscholar#leona#kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x reader#rook hunt#rook#hunt#rook hunt x reader#rook x reader#vil schoenheit#vil#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#reader#y/n#you#vera deville
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Hi! Just saw your cute cafe event and thought I'd send in a request if that was okay!
May I ask for an order of chicken and waffles with sweet tea please? Thank you!!
- 🌟
Hello 🌟 Anon! ☆
Thank you so much for your order! ♡ It makes me happy to know you think my event is cute! I hope you enjoy! ♡
This is part of an event I'm doing where people can request stories by placing orders! For more information, please refer to this post! ♡
⋆ 𝓐𝔃𝓾𝓵 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓸: 𝓓𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓝𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 ⋆
One order of chicken and waffles and a sweet tea, coming right up! ♡
⋆ You were used to dates at the Mostro Lounge, sitting in the booth Azul reserves just for you. It was tucked away in the corner, secluded so that you could enjoy each other's company uninterrupted. He always had a way of making you feel special, your hands held in the center of the table as you talked and ate. He was attentive as he listened, stroking your hand with his thumb. His attention only waved when he was needed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving to do his job. Once he was back he would resume where you left off, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he held your hand once more.
⋆ Jade or Floyd would usually be the ones serving you, unable to resist teasing him whenever they stopped by.
"There's a new drink coming to the menu soon. He named it after you."
"Want my recommendation? Get this week's special! He kept insisting on making sure the taste was just how you like it, so you better order it!"
"Oh, is that a new tie Azul? And in Name's favorite color, too? It suits you."
"Name's here now, so stop worryin'! I can even drag 'em here myself if they're late again, aha ha!"
You knew they meant no harm with their teasing, Azul either scolding or ignoring them as the tips of his ears turned red.
⋆ Outside of the lounge, he would usually take you to restaurants, looking for inspiration or ideas he could incorporate into his own business. Some would be more fancy than others, always taking into account your tastes and dietary needs when choosing where to go. He would ask your opinion, wanting to know your thoughts on the decor, the menu, the food. Depending on how well you enjoyed it, he would take you there again, making a note to himself for a future date.
⋆ Your dates weren't exclusive to eateries though, Azul enjoying any moment he could spend with you. Even something as simple as going on a walk, enjoying each other's company as you looked around, was good enough for him. One of his favorite dates was after he had a long day, relaxing and cuddling with you as you talked about your days. You had gotten up for a moment, making something quick to eat before returning, handing him a plate. The intimacy of it, the care, caused his heart to race, thankful to have you in his life.
⋆ For your most recent date, he wanted to take you somewhere more casual and fun, bringing you to a board game cafe. It was an idea he got from Idia, having listened to him talk about them during their club meetings. After paying a fee, you were able to browse the cafe's large selection of games, and play them right at your table. If there was a game you liked, the cafe sold them as well, allowing you to purchase any games you wanted to take home with you.
⋆ You had fun looking at all the games, seeing some you've played before, some you've heard about, and some you didn't even know existed. You would take turns choosing which game to play, keeping score to see who won the most games by the end of the night. With the winner getting a kiss, Azul has no plans on losing, determined to win the prize you promised him. As your date is coming to an end he holds you close, an arm around your waist as the other cups your cheek. He takes a moment to stare, thinking how wonderful you were before leaning in, meeting your lips in a gentle kiss ♡
I hope you enjoyed your meal, and thank you for visiting the Cathie Cafe! ♡
𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡
#♡.sheep writes#♡.twst#♡.azul ashengrotto#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul x reader
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series masterlist ⭑ co-creator @memoiich
Your day had done rather well, Maul seemed to have a bit of an attitude but when did he not. While going through some documents for Dathomir and noticed something odd, every single deal had involved Maul and strangely they all involved someone named Savage Opress, you presumed he was the Dathomirian advisor but why would he be a man. The night sister ran the organisation right?
You walked over to Maul who was seated in an office at the end of the hall. The red Zebrak looked at you with pure annoyance “Hey Maul, I noticed something on the papers for Dathomir.” He glanced up from his computer “and that would be?” Maul always had that stern face it was quite hard to explain, the only way you could describe it was that it was the total opposite of obi wans. “Well, there’s a man named Savage Opress but I thought it was a woman owned company?” You asked a bit hesitant.
“That would be my brother, he works for the company” he made eye contact and continued “you don’t know a thing about Dathomirs history, do you?” You were indeed a bit out of your depth. "When we go to the night sisters tomorrow, let me do the talking “ he stated “Are you satisfied with your answer?” He went back to typing “I think so.” He pointed to the door “then go.”
Maker, he was petty. Closing the door behind, you let out a long sigh. Maul could be really tiresome to be around. You heard a huffed set of laughs. Looking over to the desks, you saw Quinlan trying to hush himself and his desk friends Kit and Obi wan.
You walked over, hardly able to keep from laughing yourself. “Did he kick you out of his office?” Obi wan questioned with a mischievous smile on his face “he did, why does he have an office anyways?” Maul sat at the back of the office normally. “He threatened Rex for it" Quinlan giggled out. “Maker, I can't imagine how bad it must be to work with him,” Kit let out with a loud sigh.
You took a bit of offence, sure maul could be arrogant, prideful and a downright rude but he was a hard worker that just seemed a bit guarded. “It really isn’t that bad, he works really hard and we get along somewhat well!" Quinlan passed a look towards obi wan “Wouldn’t you want to work with someone else?” You thought it was a bit of a strange question. “I mean it's sometimes a bit difficult but he knows a lot of stuff about Dathomir, I don’t think anyone else would be more suited for the job. His brother even works there.” You ended with a bit of a smile.
Rex's voice boomed from the front desk, you rushed back over to your desk. There was a man standing next to Rex that you didn’t recognise “Y/n this is is Bail Organa, HR representative and a weekly nuisance “ you were a bit taken aback by that. "I thought I planned the meeting on Monday next week, did you not get the email?” he let out a rumble laugh “I don't check emails from my branches, I thought it would be a good idea to check up on how you blended in with your peers” that was nice at least. Rex started awkwardly stepping away back to his office. He must have been uncomfortable, you thought.
Bail guided you to a nearby conference room (which really was more like a table with 6 seats). He pulled out a chair and crossed the room to sit in front of it. You took the seat. “So tell me how you’re blending in?” Bail asked “Well I'm doing rather well. My first day was a bit of a hassle but I think I’m really getting the hang of it now” you beamed. You liked your new job a lot, the hours were kind, the people were ever kinder and your pay was great. “I heard you were late a few times, may I ask why?” He looked at you nonchalantly. “Well my car broke down on my way over on that infamous first day." "Did you find a good garage?" he asked, ''Yeah , Its called MustaCar and they’re fixing up the car as we speak. It took them almost an hour to get there but they did it.” Bail looked shocked when you said MustaCar "Who was your mechanic?” He questioned a big to quickly “Anakin Skywalker.” that was one name you weren’t going to forget quickly. He nodded and smiled. “Are there any other things you would like to speak about?” You shook your head “No, not really.”
Bail shook your hand as you both left the room, you noticed that he walked over towards Obi Wan but his hologram went off before he could get there. He bid a quick sympathetic goodbye to the paper company before walking away. And your day continued as normal.
You walked down the stairs to the parking lot to catch your ride home, 'Shaggy' the minivan. Qui Gon was standing by the beauty but Obi Wan was nowhere in sight. “Hey y/n, how was your day?” He greeted you warmly “My day was pretty great. How long do you think we need to wait on Obi Wan?” He let out a laugh “He kept talking too much so now he's running behind with his work, which means i will give him a lift later." He looked at you knowingly but of what you didn’t know. “Are you in a rush?” He asked “Yup, could you drop me off at this address? “ You had written it down back at your desk because Shaggy didn’t have a GPS. “Well then we better get going!” Qui Gon said while stepping into his car.
It didn’t take too long for you to get there. “MustaCar...” was all Qui Gon let out before bidding you goodbye and you did the same.
Stepping out of the vehicle you wave your thanks to Qui Gon before walking the short distance to MustaCar. Making your way into the reception, you are greeted by a gruff man who tells you to go out back to see your beloved Shelby. Pushing open the door you are greeted by a ball of fur curling around your legs. Bending down, you pat the sandy loth cat before spotting your shining glory. Shelby sits looking rather sad but nevertheless still beautiful. You cross the distance to her, loth cat in tow, and run your hand over her blue bonnet.
“She won’t be done for a while you know?” the voice from beside you makes you jump out of your skin. “Didn’t mean to scare you” Anakin says smoothly, leaning on the side of shelby. You walk around the car, checking that she hasn’t acquired any scratches or dents.”I swear I haven’t damaged her one bit, my apprentice has been working on her mostly” he pauses “but don’t worry she knows what she is doing.”
You up at the apprentice, noticing his ruffled hair and rolled up sleeves. ‘Damn’ is all you think to yourself before shutting out those ideas circling your head. He was just a guy after all. With enough charm to sink a battleship. You mentally elbow yourself before speaking; “how long is a while?” “At least another few weeks, parts are difficult to ship in at the moment” He explains before shooting you a winning smile, “means I get to look at you more often if you continue to stop by.” You roll your eyes at him, maybe to make up for the feeling in your gut.
Interrupting Anakin's remarks, the loth cat wanders up to you and makes a sound that basically implies ‘attention please’. You bend down to pat it, but it gets a different idea and basically jumps onto you, luckily your reflected kick in and you manage to place your hand around it. It settles comfortably in your arms and you are able to stand back up. You hear Anakin let out a laugh. “Sorry, she’s new to the place” he says, “showed up the other day, hungry, but very friendly.” You nod, giving the animal a scratch behind its large, pointed ears.
“She is very friendly, does she have a name?” you question, looking at the creature's large, chocolatey eyes. “Snips wanted to name her Honey.” “I can see why, she is very honey coloured.” He smiles “yeah, and sickly sweet.” The cat nudges your shoulder playfully, and you scratch under its chin. “I can tell” you laugh.
“Hate to break up your bonding session” a female voice says as she walks over. You recognise her as Ahsoka, Anakin’s teenages apprentice. “But the boss wants to see you” She points an accusing finger at the man beside you. He nods before turning to face you, “I'll see you around sweetheart.” He shoots you a winning grin before he walks off inside the building. Ahsoka rolls her eyes dramatically before beginning to tell you exactly what she has been doing to your Shelby.
You are left with a strange feeling in your gut and a lot of questions to ask yourself.
So sorry this took so long. We live in different parts of the world and planning can get tricky. We will definitely finish this project anyways… We hope you enjoy <3
#star wars#the clone wars#tcw#anakin x you#anakin skywalker x reader#hayden christensen#hayden christensen imagine#hayden christensen x reader#revenge of the sith#ashoka tano#star wars anakin#anakin skywalker#anakin x reader#obi wan imagine#obi wan kenobi#obi wan and anakin#obi wan star wars#obi wan x reader#prequel trilogy#obi wan x you#ewan mcgregor#ink and oil
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Matt & Me🎀
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.
fem! reader x singer! matt
disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.
warnings - mentions of drug use
y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷
Chapter 11
Matt Sturniolo created his own world; only in his own environment did he feel secure, comfortable, and protected. A genuine camaraderie was created at Graceland. We lived as one big family, eating, talking, arguing, joking, playing, and traveling together.
Although I became friends with the guys in Matt’s retinue, he never let me, or anyone else, forget that I was his girl. I was never to get too close or become too familiar with any of the regulars.
One evening, after we came home from a movie, we said good night to everyone and went upstairs. Returning to the kitchen a few minutes later to get something to eat, I found Jerry Schilling, who’d just started working for Matt, making himself a snack. We started talking. A few minutes later, Matt appeared.
“What the hell are you two doing down here?” he shouted at us.
Intimidated, Jerry said, “Well, Matt, we were just talking. I was asking her how she felt, because she didn’t feel well this afternoon.”
“I came down to get something to eat,” I explained.
“y/nn, you don’t need to be roaming around here late at night,” he said, angrily ordering me upstairs.
Behind me, I could hear him lashing out at Jerry. “If you want to keep this job, son, you mind your own business. If there’s anyone who’s going to ask her how she feels, it’ll be me. You better mind your own goddamn business.”
I liked Jerry. He was warm, sincere, and very personable; just a couple of years older than I, he was one of the few people who I could relate to. But from that time on, it was a dodging match every time we’d run into each other. Now Jerry and I laugh about the “good old days” when we reminisce.
Most of the boys who worked for Matt had been around from the beginning and they knew all about him—his sense of humor, his sensitivity, and his temper. He stripped himself bare in front of them, and they accepted him for what he was.
Yet working for Matt was a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, and the boys were at his beck and call constantly. They played when he played and slept when he slept. It took a certain kind of personality to put up with his demands, whether they made sense or not.
“Come on, y/nn, let’s go to Los Angeles. I’ll show you where I film movies.,” he said one afternoon when we’d only been up for a few hours. He called downstairs and told Alan to alert everyone that he wanted to leave within the hour.
Alan said, “Okay, Boss. I think Richard and Gene are still sleeping. I’ll give ’em a call and tell ’em to come right over.”
“Their lazy asses are still sleeping?” Matt asked. “I’ve been up for two goddamn hours. They should have been over here by now. Alan, from now on, when I call down for my breakfast, call the boys and tell them I’m up and to be ready for anything, and that may include me not even coming downstairs. I just want them here.”
Demanding? Yes, but Matt could be just as generous. By today’s standards the boys’ salaries were not high—the average paycheck was $250 a week—but if the boys ever felt the pinch by the end of the month, they would go to Matt. They’d ask him if he could help them out with a down payment on a house or the first and last months’ payments on an apartment. Matt always came through for them, lending them the one thousand or five thousand or ten thousand dollars they asked for. He was rarely if ever paid back.
There also was no limit to the expensive gifts he gave them—television consoles for Christmas, bonus checks, Cadillac convertibles, Mercedes-Benzes. If he heard someone was sad or depressed, he loved to surprise them with a gift, usually a brand-new car. When he gave to one, he would usually end up giving to all.
James didn’t have much respect for the guys. He said Matt just gave and gave and gave, and they took and took and took. He’d say, “Son, we have to save.” Matt would answer, “It’s only money, Dad. I just have to go out and make more.”
James resented the regulars acting as if Graceland was their personal club. They’d go into the kitchen at any hour and order anything they wanted. Naturally, everyone ordered something different. The cooks worked night and day keeping them happy. James felt, “To hell with the boys. Their main concern should be Matt.”
What was really outrageous was that the regulars were ordering sirloin steaks or prime ribs while Matt usually ate hamburgers or peanut butter and banana sandwiches.
I wasn’t too popular around Graceland when I started reorganizing the kitchen. I set down a policy of having one menu per meal, and anyone who didn’t like what was on it could go to a local restaurant. This new edict resulted in much grumbling from the guys, but the cooks were relieved, and James sanctioned my decision, announcing, “It’s about time someone organized the meals. It was beginning to look like we were feeding half of Boston.”
Matt was the boss, the provider, and the power. Both the boys and I had to protect him from people who annoyed or irritated him and were no longer in his favor. Before coming down for the evening, he’d have me call downstairs to check who was there. I’d run down the guests, aware that certain names would strike him wrong.
“Shit,” he’d say, his mood destroyed. “What’s he want? Bring me some more bad news?” He’d stay up in his room rather than spend an evening with someone he didn’t like. There was one particular regular who had incurred his disfavor, and Matt told everyone he didn’t want him around. “Don’t let him through those goddamn gates!” Matt ordered. “All I have to do is look at his face and I get depressed.” Matt barred him from Graceland for a number of years, saying, “If he changes his morbid attitude, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His perceptions were correct, as these “friends” eventually betrayed him.
Matt and James kept some of their relatives at a distance because, as Matt explained to me, they’d shunned him when he was growing up, ridiculing him as a sissy, a mama’s boy. Mary Lou stood up for Matt and told his tormentors to go their own way. Angrily, she had said, “Don’t bother us with these accusations.”
Then fame and fortune hit, and suddenly all the kinfolk came around, begging for jobs or crying that they needed help. Sometimes Matt got upset, charging, “The only time they visit is with their hand out. It’d be nice if they’d come around just to see how I was doing. But hell no, it’s always, ‘Ah, Matt, I could use a little extra cash. Could you help me out?’ Hell, I’ll bet when I’m dead and gone, they’ll still be taking advantage.” But Matt ended up slipping each of them a hundred dollars or more every time they came around. If it had been up to James, he would have gotten rid of every one of them. But Matt kept saying, “No, Dad, they don’t have any place to go. They couldn’t work anywhere. Keep them here.”
From the beginning of his success, Matt put many family members on salary, and all had titles. James was his business manager; Patsy, his personal secretary; uncles Vester Sturniolo and Johnny and Travis Smith, and cousin Harold Lloyd, gate guards; cousins Billy, Bobby, and Gene, personal aides; and then there was Tracy Smith, who seemed to go from brother to brother for support. Matt took care of everyone.
I remember one night at Graceland when Matt came back to the kitchen and saw Tracy pacing the floor. “Hey, Tracy,” he said, “How ya doing, man?” Tracy, his hands in his pockets, could hardly look Matt in the eye. “I don’t know, Matt,” he sighed. “What do ya mean, you don’t know? Everyone knows how they’re doin’, man.”
Tracy, shifting back and forth, mumbled, “I got my nerves in the dirt, Matt.” Matt staggered back, laughing. “Nerves in the dirt! Hell, I never heard it expressed like that before. You need some money, Tracy?”
Again, Tracy just shifted back and forth, as Matt called Nate over and told him to give Tracy a bill. A big smile covered Tracy’s lined face as he happily took his hundred dollars and walked out the door.
Matt knew that having his nerves in the dirt was Tracy’s way of saying he was down and out—and worried sick about it. He never forgot that phrase. “Poor ol’ Matt,” he’d say. “I’ll never forget the look on his face that night, poor ol’ guy.”
That was Matt—always caring, always sensitive to everyone’s needs, even while presenting a macho image to his fans and friends.
Anything I could think of doing for him, I did. I made sure Graceland was always warm and inviting, with the lights turned low, as he preferred them, the temperature in his bedroom set to his exact desire (freezing), and the kitchen filled with the aroma of his favorite meals.
Every night before dinner was served, I came downstairs first, checked with the maids to see that his food was just the way he liked it—his mashed potatoes creamily whipped, plenty of cornbread, and his meat burnt to perfection. I always had candles on the dining room table to create a romantic atmosphere despite the fact that we always ate with several of the regulars.
I loved babying Matt. He had a little-boy quality that could bring out the mother instinct in any woman, a beguiling way of seeming utterly dependent. It was this aspect of his charm that made me want to hold him, shower him with affection, protect him, fight for him, and yes, even die for him. I went to extremes in taking care of him, from cutting his steak at dinner to making sure his water glass was always filled. I enjoyed pampering and spoiling him and found myself jealous of others vying for his attention and approval.
But I didn’t always receive his approval. If something went wrong with his dinner, Matt blew up. “Why isn’t this steak done? Why didn’t you make sure the maids cooked it right? If you’d have done your job, it wouldn’t have turned out like this.” Obviously something else was wrong, and I didn’t recognize it at the time. Because of the continuous pressures and problems in Matt’s life, all magnified by taking prescribed drugs, little things would set him off. I took responsibility for everything in his life and always took it all too personally.
I wanted to be with Matt as much as I could, but while going to the movies or the fairgrounds every night might have been a wonderful way for him to relax, it posed an enormous problem for me. Often I wouldn’t get home until 5 or 6 a.m., and I’d have to be at school two hours later. Sometimes I never went to sleep. When I did, I could barely make it out of bed. I would lie there trying to drum up the strength to face the day, Matt making it even harder by suggesting that I sleep in and cut classes. It would have been so easy to go along with his suggestion, but hanging over me was the agreement I’d made with my parents. They trusted me and even though I was letting them down, I still had to keep up the facade.
Day after day I drove to school, attended classes till noon, then returned to Graceland to slip back into bed and cuddle next to Matt, who was still sound asleep. When he awoke at 3 or 4 p.m., I might never have left his side for all he knew. I was there to give him his usual order of orange juice, a Spanish omelet, home-fried potatoes, a mere two pounds of bacon, and—first and foremost—his black coffee.
Everyone who knew Matt was aware that it took him at least two to three hours to wake up fully. Asking him to make a decision, even a simple one such as what movie he wanted to see that night, was ill-advised. He was just too groggy and irritable from the sleeping pills, which were causing him to sleep as many as fourteen hours a day. It seemed only natural for him to take some Dexedrine to wake up.
I was always concerned about his intake of sleeping pills. His horror of insomnia, compounded with a family history of compulsive worrying, caused him to down three or four Placidyls, Seconals, Quaaludes, or Tuinals almost every night—and often it was a combination of all four. When I expressed my concern, he just picked up the medical dictionary, always near at hand on his night table.
“In here is the explanation for every type of pill on the market, their ingredients, side effects, cures, everything about them,” he assured me. “There isn’t anything I can’t find out.”
It was true. He was always reading up on pills, always checking to see what was on the market, and which ones had received FDA approval. He referred to them by their medical names and knew all their ingredients. Like everyone else around him, I was impressed with his knowledge and certain that he was an expert. One would think he had a degree in pharmacology. He always assured me that he didn’t need pills, that he could never become dependent on them. This difference in opinion resulted in many serious confrontations; I always compromised my integrity and ended up taking his viewpoint.
I began taking sleeping pills and diet pills too. Two Placidyls for him and one for me. A Dexedrine for him and one for me. Eventually Matt’s consumption of pills seemed as normal to me as watching him eat a pound of bacon with his Spanish omelet. I routinely took “helpers” in order to get to sleep after wild rides at the fairgrounds or early-morning jam sessions. And I routinely took more “helpers” when I woke up in order to maintain the fast pace and, more importantly, to study for my final exams.
During the last month before finals, I started popping more dexies than before. They seemed to give me the energy I needed to get through classes and homework. Every free moment was devoted to cramming a whole semester’s work into a few weeks. But my concentration was scattered; the strain of life at Graceland had finally caught up with me.
I had already been warned by Sister Adrian that in order for me to graduate, I had to pass all my subjects. During a talk in her office, I wanted desperately to confide in her and explained how hard it was to maintain my grade level with the late hours I kept: But how could I tell that to a nun?
I had no real goals after graduation, but I did sometimes dream of becoming a dancer or possibly enrolling in an art academy. Now I realize that I was deeply influenced by Matt’s casual attitude toward continued schooling. He figured I didn’t need it and I agreed. Just being with him most of the time would provide an education—not to mention experience—that no school could give me. He wanted me to be his totally, free to go to him in an instant if he needed me.
That sounded great to me. I’d never planned on a future without Matt. Therefore, while my classmates were deciding which colleges to apply to, I was deciding which gun to wear with what sequined dress. I was tempted to say to Sister Adrian, “Oh, by the way, Sister, does gunmetal gray go with royal blue sequins?” With that attitude it was no surprise that I was still woefully unprepared for my most hated subject, algebra, the week before finals.
On the day of the test, I sat in the crowded classroom, hyper from downing a dexy, trying to work out the problems. Despite my effort, I knew there was no way I was going to pass. I started to panic. I had to graduate. I had an obligation to Matt and to my parents, who I knew would yank me out of Graceland the minute I failed this test. I glanced at the girl next to me—and at her completed test paper. It’s my last resort, I thought. I’m going for it. I was not willing to face the consequences of being sent home for failing this test.
Her name was Janet and she was a straight A student. I tapped her on the shoulder and flashed my brightest smile, whispering, “Are you a Matt fan?” Taken aback by my question, Janet nodded yes. “How would you like to come to one of his parties?” I asked.
“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’d love to.”
“Well, I know a way that it can be arranged.”
I eyed her test paper and explained. Janet instantly grasped my dilemma and, without a word, slid her paper to the edge of her desk. Now I had a full view of her answers. I spent the rest of the hour furiously copying them down and I not only passed, but I got an A on that test.
I hadn’t expected Matt to make much of my graduation. His attitude was, “A diploma’s not that important; life’s experiences are.” But to my surprise, he really looked forward to it and arranged to have a big party for our friends after the ceremony. There he presented a beautiful red Corvair, my first car.
On the big night he was like a proud parent. Nervous about what he should wear to the ceremony, he finally settled on a dark blue suit, and I put on my navy blue gown. I couldn’t possibly keep the cap on over that mass of teased hair.
Matt had a limo waiting for us out front. But there was one problem: I did not want him to come to the actual ceremony. It would attract a lot of attention, and all eyes would be focused on him instead of the graduating seniors.
Finally I worked up enough courage to ask him to wait outside, and explained why. Smiling his funny little grin, the one that came to his lips when he was hurt or upset, he agreed without hesitation. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. “I won’t come in. I’ll just be outside in the car waiting for you. That way I’ll kinda be there.”
And that was what he did. I accepted my diploma with mixed emotions. I would have loved for him to have been watching, but only I knew what a physical, emotional, and mental strain it had been to get that piece of paper. To me, it represented freedom, freedom to stay out until dawn if I wanted and sleep all day if I wanted. It represented freedom from my school uniform and from the teasing the entourage subjected me to every time they caught me in it trying to sneak past them at Graceland. I was a big girl playing in the big leagues.
As soon as I could get away, I ran outside. In front of the church, Matt and the boys were standing by the long black limo, looking like the Chicago Mafia in their dark glasses and suits, each concealing a.38. Around them a group of nuns were clamoring for Matt’s autograph.
Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.
a/n - so cute🎀
#matt stuniolo fanfic#matthew sturn#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#Spotify
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