#when i say i screamed when this happened - it's about the TENSION! it's about the ACTING
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Eight Years Ago, Cambridge, MA…
Stormy blue meets turbulent green. Palpable tension crackles in the air as things escalate faster than usual. Pent up anger and resentment boil over like a volcanic eruption of past transgressions never spoken. They hurl sharpened words at one another, daggers cutting through the fragile skin of the relationship they’ve forged for four years. It’s been building, both of them know it has, each stewing in the silent hurricane of thoughts swirling inside them. It was an inevitable train wreck set on course six months ago when Lena decided to stay in Cambridge instead moving to National City with Kara as planned.
Four years at MIT together, two as best friends, two as lovers and living together. They talk about everything. At least that’s what Kara thought until that moment six months ago when Lena dropped her bombshell. Now, they’re standing in the middle of their apartment screaming at one another like they’re sworn enemies instead of longtime lovers. Each of them tossing insults and barbs at one another with complete abandon. Sharing spiteful disdain in the way they used to share I love you’s.
Neither of them stop to think about what they are saying or the damage they are causing. It’s heated. It’s cruel. Everything is going down in flames and neither of them seem to care. Kara yells about Lena’s horrendous family and how she’s behaving just like them. Lena screams about Kara’s naivete and obliviousness. They cut one another to the bone with words neither of them ever thought they’d speak to each other. It’s an emotional bloodbath drowning the remnants of their relationship in the dripping, viscous venom spewing from their lips.
Eventually, the room is silent. The only sound is the heaving breath of the two women glaring at one another, tears falling. It’s a moment frozen in time, one that neither of them will ever forget.
It’s Kara who finally storms out. Since she’s finished packing all her things for the move anyway, she reasons that getting an early start on her drive will get her to National City faster. Plus, she desperately needs to get away from the demise of her relationship. Her once homey and warm apartment feels cold and foreign. The woman in front of her is suddenly a stranger. Her heart is decimated, shattered into a million pieces. She thought for sure Lena was it for her. Her other half, her person. Apparently not. Everything they’ve built lies broken and dead at her feet as she grabs her final piece of luggage.
Dragging the bag behind her, she pauses at the door. Hanging her head as tears glide across her skin, she whispers, “I will always love you. I just thought you felt the same.” Taking a deep breath, she straightens her back and opens the door. She keeps her eyes forward and her jaw set. If she looks back now, she’ll change her mind and it’s too late for that.
Lena stares at the closed door, her mouth hanging open, arms wrapped tightly around herself, and tears streaming from her eyes. She has no doubt she just made the biggest mistake of her life, but she’s frozen in place. Everything happened so fast, it’s a blur. She’s utterly confused as to how she has managed to destroy the longest, healthiest relationship she’s ever had. She’s staying at MIT to get her doctorate, but had no intention of breaking things off with Kara. In her mind, they’d make it work. They always said they were stronger together and could tackle anything as long as they had each other. Sure, she probably should have spoken to her girlfriend when she applied to the PhD program, but her anxiety got the best of her and she waited until everything was in place.
Now, here she stands watching the love of her life walk away. She’s paralyzed, stuck in the spot where her life fell apart. Her eyes seem to suddenly refocus and time speeds back up. Unsure of how much time has passed, she is suddenly hit with the reality of what just happened and bolts out the door. Kara. She has to catch Kara. Just as she rushes out the front of the building and onto the sidewalk, she can see the taillights fading from sight. Her whole world just drove away in a moving truck. Without her. Her body acts before her mind does, she runs back up the stairs. Swinging the door to the apartment open, she snatches her phone up to call Kara. Voicemail. She calls again. Same thing.
And so it goes for hours, then days, then weeks. Lena even tries to call Alex, to no avail. It’s the same silence. Eventually, she resigns herself to the fact she fucked up and she has to live with it. When three months turns to six and six into twelve, she finally puts the pictures away. She lost her chance at happiness and love. Now she needs to put all of her focus and energy into school. It’s the only thing that gets her through the rest of her masters and PhD programs.
Present Day, New York City…
Six more years in school and two degrees later, Lena has moved forward in her life. Well, as much as she can. She hasn’t had any real relationship to speak of since she and Kara split up. A few flings and one night stands, but nothing serious. It’s hard when she hasn’t stopped loving the bubbly blonde that stole her heart all those years ago. Deep down, she knows she’ll never love anyone the way she did…does Kara.
Her Kara. Or she used to be.
It’s been two years since she began working for Spheerical Tech & Pharmaceuticals as their head of research and development. It’s grueling and exhausting. Not that it matters because she doesn’t have a life outside of work. She spends half her time in New York in her lab and the other half split between Cambridge and National City with occasional trips to London. She visits each of their lab sites at least once a year, sometimes more. Most of the time she volunteers for the trips. Besides, no one is at home to miss her. Not even a pet. No one is around to call before she goes to bed. It’s pretty sad when she really thinks about it.
When her boss and longtime friend, Jack, first mentioned needing her to manage the National City lab, she was hesitant. She didn’t want to risk running into Kara at all. Sure, it’s a large, populated city and the odds are slim, but Kara doesn’t need her showing up and ruining the life she has now. She knows her ex-girlfriend made a name for herself and became a well-respected investigative and scientific tech journalist. The woman is absolutely one of the best and most accomplished journalists of their generation. In fact, Lena has every article the blonde has ever published. Further, unbeknownst to Kara, Lena was there when she won her first Pulitzer three years ago. She stayed in the back of the crowd and left before anyone knew she was ever there.
Even now, eight years later, Kara is never far from her mind. Of course, she stopped calling Kara years ago, she has no idea if she even has the same number anymore. Lena kept hers, the same number all these years. Kara will probably never use it. She hasn’t yet, but at least it’s there if she ever tries.
She has always genuinely wanted Kara to be happy. No matter what it looks like, that’s what she wants for her. Even after all this time, the one thing Lena held onto, the one thing she does every year, is send an email on the anniversary of their first date. She has no idea if Kara reads them since she has never responded, but she still sends them. Never any words. Always just a simple heart emoji. Nothing else.
It’s why she’s thinking about their fight and the demise of their relationship right now. There’s roughly three months until the anniversary of their first date. Ten years ago, they went on their first date. A long, wistful sigh escapes her lips. They met at the station across from campus in Cambridge and took the train to Boston to spend the day. She remembers when their eyes met across the terminal, there was an eruption of butterflies in her belly. It was as if she could finally breathe. What she wouldn’t give to see those cerulean eyes again.
That’s when she gets an idea. Probably the worst one she’s had since she let Kara walk out the apartment door. It’s probably fruitless. She’s pretty sure Kara has long since forgotten her, especially after the hurt she caused. But, what if, after all this time, Kara still feels the same?
One more time and then she’ll give up. For good.
Present Day, National City…
Kara is having a shit day. She spilled coffee on her favorite shirt, broke her favorite pen, and missed her first deadline in years. Then, Alex canceled sister’s night because of some emergency at the hospital. And fine, she gets it, Alex is a doctor, blah blah blah. Still doesn’t mean she has to be okay with it. Needless to say, she’s ready to go home to curl up with her favorite show and some ice cream. If she could leave right now she’d pack up and be gone in an instant. Unfortunately, she still has three more hours left. She sighs an exasperated sigh and drops her forehead onto her desk.
It’s moments like this when she thinks about Lena. Her ex-girlfriend had a way with brightening the worst of her days. Their nights together, the fun they had, the uninhibited comfort her presence provided. She hasn’t found that comfort in anyone since. The closeness and trust the two of them had was something she’s sure she’ll never have again. She’s tried, she really has. Several times over the years, with men and women alike. No one ever compares to the woman she reluctantly admits she still loves.
There are so many things about their last fight she wishes she could take back. So many things she regrets. It still makes her cringe when she thinks about the spiteful things she said to Lena and the hurt she saw in her favorite green eyes. The biggest regret from that day is walking away without talking things out. She knows neither of them behaved very rationally the last six months of their relationship. It eventually culminated in their massive blow-up followed by their sudden break-up. Unfortunately, it isn’t something she can take back or undo.
Actually, scratch that, her biggest regret from back then is ignoring Lena’s calls and letting Alex talk her into blocking her number. There have been so many times over the years when she wanted to reach out, to hear that smooth, saccharine voice again. It seems there’s a little voice in her head always preventing her from doing it. The nagging little voice repeats things like ‘you deserve better than her’ and ‘she doesn’t care or think about you anymore’. The voice sounds an awful lot like Alex. As much as she loves her sister, her overprotective actions probably cost her any chance at reconciliation. Given how long it’s been, she’s almost certain of it.
She puffs out a frustrated breath. This happens every single time she thinks about Lena. She remembers the chance she could have taken, the window of time in which she might have been able to fix things. Now, there’s no way, it’s too late. Her eyes close briefly before she lifts her head up from her desk. Blue eyes settle on the phone sitting next to her keyboard and her lips twitch upward in a wistful smile.
Pulling the device toward her, she navigates to the one file she keeps locked and protected. It’s an obscure folder with a few pictures of her and Lena. Her finger swipes through the pictures and her eyes tear up before she quickly closes it. She navigates to her contacts where her weepy eyes scan over the place where Lena’s phone number still sits. Seven numbers and her favorite name casually staring up at her. A combination of letters and numbers she could never get rid of.
A shaky hand makes its way to her glasses, pulling them off to wipe away the errant tears that managed to escape. Her mind wanders again. Would the number still work if she tried to call? Probably not. Surely Lena changed her number and moved on, right? She’s intelligent, successful, and a goddess of a woman. The amount of people likely knocking on her door for dates is innumerable. Certainly more options than Kara has.
She leans back in her chair with her head tilted toward the ceiling and runs her hands down her face. Silently chastising herself for letting her mind drift, it doesn’t do any good to think about it. Not anymore. She doesn’t even know where Lena lives or what she’s doing. Last she heard, Lena is an executive with Spheerical. Possibly one of the chief executives? One thing she’s sure of, Lena gets photographed in New York and London several times a year. So, she could live in either place for all Kara knows.
Kara is very aware there’s a branch of the company here in National City as well. It’s a building she passes almost every day. She’s fairly certain she would know if the beautiful genius was living in her city. There’s no way they wouldn’t have at least been in the same places. Given her work in science and technology for CatCo and Lena’s involvement in research and development, Kara would know. RIght? In fact, she’s interviewed a few of the staff scientists at the National City branch. If Lena was working there, she’d know. Wouldn’t she?
Another deep sigh forces itself out of her throat as she shakes her head. It’s a motion made in a futile attempt to remove any thoughts of her lost love from her mind. At this rate, it won’t ever happen. She’s doomed to carry her love for Lena to her grave. It’s been eight years and her heart still skips a beat when she sees a raven-haired woman resembling her ex-girlfriend. Her chest still aches when she looks at pictures or sifts through her memories. Her brain still runs what if scenarios for any possible conversation they might have should they ever meet again.
While she knows it’s unlikely, she can’t help but think about the possibility Lena might still love her too. She’s sure it’s a false hope, but what if? It’s crossed her mind countless times. Honestly, she’s surprised Lena didn’t reach out via email when her calls didn’t go through. It’s one of the reasons she’s so sure her ex has moved on. The Lena she knew would have exhausted all avenues. Maybe she should try to text her old number. If it’s someone else’s number, then at least she’d know.
She really needs to talk to Alex. Her sister is the only one that can talk her out of doing something rash.
--
Lena glares at the blinking cursor in front of her. She spent the better part of two months convincing Jack she needs to be in National City for the month of October. He was skeptical at first, but she managed to backlog enough work to justify it. Instincts tell her Jack still doesn’t believe her, but she’s here and got her way. That’s what matters at this point.
Now, here she sits inside her office at Spheerical, a few scant blocks from CatCo. The thought makes her stomach do somersaults, knowing how close she currently is to Kara. A long sigh presses between her lips as she continues to stare at her screen. The email in front of her has been written and rewritten so many times she lost count. Her anxiety is at peak levels and she still isn’t sure this is a good idea. But really, what does she have to lose at this point? Her dignity and pride walked out the apartment door with Kara eight years ago.
A shaky breath billows from her mouth as she drops her head into her hands. She’s been working on this email for two weeks. Well, longer if she counts the amount of time she spent drafting it in her head. In truth, it began to form almost three months ago when she was thinking about the blonde goddess living rent free in her mind. Again, it’s probably the worst idea she’s had since that fateful day. The day Lena turned her entire world upside down.
She chuckles and shakes her head, resting her hands back on her desk. “Come on, Lena. It’s no big deal. You’re just asking the woman you haven’t spoken to in eight years to meet you at a park.” Another humorless laugh leaves her throat as she realizes she’s talking to herself. “I’ve resorted to giving myself verbal pep talks now. I mean, I guess that goes along with the insanity of trying to convince my ex-girlfriend to meet with me seemingly out of the blue. On the anniversary of our first date, no less. What have I become?”
Her finger lands on the backspace key as she starts the email again for the umpteenth time. It’s her final hail mary. Her last attempt at connecting with the woman that still owns her heart. Some part of her desperately hopes Kara will show up and they can, at the very least, talk things out and get the closure they never had. Her heart wants Kara to feel the same way she does. She wants a second chance, but she’s a realist. The odds of that are slim to none. Her rational side and the little voice in her head sounding eerily similar to Lillian’s, says her chance has passed and there isn’t anything she can do to change it.
But, there’s a tiny little kernel of hope holding out. That’s what she’s holding onto.
“Alright, Luthor. You have to get your shit together. Tomorrow is the day so it’s now or never.” She reads over the email one final time before scheduling it to send at midnight or 12:01 a.m to be exact. October 16th - the anniversary of their first date. She sighs and hopes for the best. Nothing about this goes beyond her usual one email per year. This one just has words attached to it. A simple request really. She’s not anxious about it at all.
Not. One. Bit.
Her office suddenly feels too small and too quiet. With her thoughts racing at jet speed inside her skull, she bolts from her desk and makes her way down to the labs. Her brain needs a distraction or she’s going to have a panic attack and change her mind. Changing her mind is the last thing she wants. She’s loved Kara for ten years. The woman owns her heart, something that will likely never change.
So, she needs to distract herself for the next two days and hope the blonde shows up tomorrow evening. What could go wrong?
--
October 16th - the day Kara dreads every year. The anniversary of their first date. One would think after all these years, she wouldn’t remember it or care, but she does. She remembers everything and always has. The first three years were hard. She took off work and shut the world out. After those rough years, it kind of got better. Now, she does the best she can. Sometimes, she leaves early and spends the day with her favorite movie and ice cream. This year is shaping up to be one of those years. She has to take care of a few things this morning, but there is a pint of Ben & Jerry’s calling her name. She’ll be on her couch and stuffing her face with some Moose Tracks by 3:00 p.m.
Most of her day is uneventful. She even manages to get through it without scrolling through her folder of old pictures. Well, more than a few times. It counts. It was less than last year, give her a break. Lena is beautiful, amazing, and a goddess on Earth. No one can blame her for reminiscing on how it felt to hold her and just bask in her presence. The feeling of soft pale skin against her own…
A long, frustrated sigh followed by a growl of irritation crawls from her throat. Now is certainly not the time to be thinking about Lena’s skin against hers. Not to mention all the other very vivid and inconvenient images running rampant in her mind. Kara wearily shakes her head in an futile attempt at erasing the memories flashing across her mind’s eye. This happens every year on this day. She combs through the memories of the two years they spent as lovers, even the two years they were friends beforehand are filled with moments imprinted on her skin.
Another glance at the clock on the wall across the bullpen tells her she still has another hour before she can safely leave without causing any eyebrows to raise. She decides to plunge herself into some research she has to do for an upcoming piece on Spheerical. Fortunately, she gets lost in the details and the next time she looks up, it’s time to head out to lunch and then to her couch.
Just as she’s walking out of the building, her phone vibrates. A big smile stretches across her face when she sees Alex calling. “Hey, Alex!” She hurries across the sidewalk and across the road, dodging people as she goes. “Perfect timing. I’m just heading to Noonan’s to grab lunch. Are you still coming over later for sister’s night?”
“Yes, dork. Don’t we always spend this night together?” Alex huffs, rolling her eyes at her sister. “I’m leaving the hospital now, but I have to go by my apartment first. Do you need me to bring anything?”
Kara hums in thought, pausing outside the entrance to Noonan’s before shaking her head. “Nah. I have ice cream and snacks already. Just bring whatever alcohol you want if you plan to drink. You know I only have the fruity stuff.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you in an hour or so.” Alex says, a smile evident in her voice. “Love you, dork.”
Chuckling, Kara shakes her head and smiles. “Be careful. Love you, too.” She ends the call and steps inside, still laughing at her sister’s antics.
After deciding to eat her lunch on a park bench, she catches the bus home. Happy to finally be away from CatCo and the stresses of work, her mind drifts to Lena again. The last couple of years, her mind has conjured images of what their lives would be like if they were still together. Marriage, a house, and sometimes a baby. It’s not always the same, but they’re always married. Something Kara always thought would happen once they graduated and got settled in National City.
She’s shaken out of her daydreams by the subtle stop of the bus and people around her standing. A sorrowful sigh releases as she stands to exit as well. Her mind seems to enjoy torturing her with things she can’t have, made worse this day every year. As she steps off the bus, she spots her sister standing in front of her building and a smile replaces the frown she’s sure was there.
The two sisters make their way up the stairs and into Kara’s loft. They settle in to watch the movie they always watch on this day, Hocus Pocus. By the time they finish watching the movie and polish off their ice cream, it’s nearing dinner time. Alex orders pizza and potstickers and they snuggle back into the couch to wait, a random show playing in the background.
Alex eyes Kara carefully, brown eyes scanning her sister’s face. She can see the pain and sadness in the normally sparkling sapphire eyes. Instead of pushing the blonde to talk, she watches and waits, knowing Kara will eventually open up to her. It usually takes a few minutes, but she knows her sister will start spilling her feelings.
“I really miss her, Alex.” Kara says, tears welling in her stormy blue eyes. “Some days it feels like everything just happened. It feels so raw and so fresh. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop loving her. My heart won’t let me. No matter how much convincing my mind does, my heart won’t let her go.” Two glittering tears slither between her eyelids and drip onto her shirt.
The redhead sighs, slides her arms around her younger sister, and pulls her close. “I know, kiddo. I wish there was something I could say or do to make it easier for you.” She rests her head on top of Kara’s as they sit in silence for a few minutes. Their bubble bursts when there is a knock on the door. “That’s probably the food, I’ll get it.”
Alex bounds over to the door while Kara leans back on the couch, head resting against the cushion and face pointed to the ceiling. She wipes away the now drying tears, willing the rest to stop their descent down her cheeks. Her body remains still even after Alex drops the food onto the table. When she finally looks down, it’s to check the time on her watch. 6:43 p.m.
“We’d been on our date for about an hour by now. It was one of the best nights of my life, Alex. We walked through the park, the leaves changing all around us, and the sun going down. Each of us had a cup of hot chocolate in one hand while holding hands with the other.” Kara wistfully smiles as she remembers how she felt. “It was almost magical, we talked just like we always did, but it was…more. It was like we connected on a new level, like something clicked into place. Like…coming home.”
She looks up at Alex, tears streaming down her face, bottom lip trembling. “Why does it still hurt so much? I’ve spent the last eight years feeling like part of me is missing. Why won’t it stop?” An anguished look twists Alex’s face as she pulls her baby sister back into her arms. They sit and silently rock, waiting for Kara’s tears to subside.
--
Lena takes a deep breath as she sits on the park bench just inside the park. She twists the key and keychain in her hand with a smile. It’s the only thing she still has that was Kara’s. It’s a dorky keychain she bought the blonde on their first date. A pewter medallion with her name engraved across the front and the Boston skyline behind it. It’s not worth anything, but it’s one of her most prized possessions. Kara’s apartment key is still attached to it along with a woven bracelet. After the blonde walked out that day, Lena saw it laying on the counter and hasn’t parted with it since. She keeps it in her pocket and has it on her everyday.
Glancing at her watch, she starts to feel a sense of dread bubble in the bottom of her stomach. It’s pushing 7:30 now and she asked Kara to meet her here at 7:00. She told herself she wouldn’t wait longer than an hour. Knowing the reporter for four years and living with her for two, she knows her ex-girlfriend can lose track of time. Lena’s hands continue to fidget with the keychain, running the pad of her fingers across the raised letters. Verdant eyes watch countless couples and kids pass by, but none of them are the figure she so desperately wants to see.
A trembling sigh rushes across her now chapped lips, she can feel the stinging of tears in her eyes so she bites her cheek to stop them from falling. A glance at her phone shows she’s been here for much longer than the self-allotted time frame. Her watch face mocks her with a time of 8:07 p.m. Still no sign of Kara. Lena glances around one more time to make sure she didn’t overlook anything as she checks her phone to make sure she did say 7:00 p.m. in her email. Knots continue to tie themselves together in her stomach.
She decides she can wait just a little longer.
So she does. She sits stoically on the bench, fidgeting with a relic from a relationship that ended almost a decade ago. A relationship that will officially be dead and buried after tonight. Unless a miracle happens and Kara appears in front of her, it’s pretty evident that her hope was for naught. The woman that holds her heart released it long ago. She’s doomed to love someone who doesn’t love her back.
At 8:32 p.m. on October 16th, Kara Danvers broke her heart for the first and last time. She broke her own heart eight years ago, it only seems fitting that it’s irreparably shattered by the woman that will own it for eternity.
Gathering the strength to stand from the bench is a lot harder than she anticipates. Lena ends up having to pause before she can finally stand to walk back to her car. She does manage to keep the tears at bay until she reaches the car and is safely inside. That’s when she releases the sob that has been building in her gut for hours. The sounds and tears coming from her body are louder and heavier than anything she’s experienced in her life. With the trauma she’s been through, that is saying a lot.
When she finally manages to stifle the tears enough to drive back to her hotel, she makes her way back to her room as discreetly and quietly as she can. She refuses to break down completely until she is in the privacy of her own room. By some saving grace, she steps into her room, closes the door, and immediately collapses on the floor. She must have eventually cried herself to sleep because she woke up in the same place two hours later.
Peeling herself off the floor, she stripped off her clothes and fell into bed, makeup and all. The rest of the world would have to wait.
--
“I can’t answer that, kiddo. It hurts because you still love her and never got closure.” Alex says, watching her sister’s face contort from an invisible pain. “Come on, Kara. At least eat something. Please.”
“How the hell am I supposed to eat right now, Alex? How?!” Kara screeches, her voice rough from tears and emotion. “I shouldn’t have blocked her number. I should have just called her, Alex. Why didn’t she email me or write me a letter? Something!”
Another gut-wrenching sob rips from her chest, her body heaving with each one as it wracks from her lungs. Alex’s gut twists with guilt as she wrestles with the words sitting like ash on her tongue. Watching her sister writhe in the pain of heartache that she might have contributed to is eating her alive. When her baby sister’s distraught blue eyes land on hers, the decision is made. She has to confess.
“Umm, K-Kara. D-Do you have your laptop close by?” Alex asks, looking around the living room, but not seeing the device. “Can you tell me where it is?” Her eyes settle on the heartbroken blonde and take in the stretched out arm pointing across the room to the dining table. She gently squeezes her sister’s shoulder and makes her way over to grab it. Taking a brief moment to steel herself for what she’s about to do, she takes a deep breath and turns to face the truth.
Kara tracks her sister’s movement, a little confused by her actions, and curious to know why she’s behaving like a scared dog. She sniffles, wiping her nose with the tissue her sister hands her. “What’s going on? Why are you acting so strange, Alex?” Her eyes scan the laptop now sitting on the couch between them. “Why are you opening my laptop? What’s going on?”
An audible gulp can be heard coming from the redhead’s throat. Brown eyes bounce between teary cerulean. “Eight years ago, when you called me crying hysterically about what happened, I got you to block Lena’s number. I knew she wouldn’t give up trying to contact you so…” Another hard swallow and a shaky inhale are the only two sounds Alex can hear at that moment. Everything else is drowned by the sudden ringing in her ears.
“What, Alex? So, what?” Kara says, a wave of nausea and anxiety builds in the pit of her stomach. “Alex. Please finish what you were saying.” Blue eyes filled with turmoil scan the redhead’s face, searching for something, a clue. There’s nothing, but fear and guilt resting on her usually stoic sister’s face. The look does nothing to ease the feeling gathering in Kara’s gut.
Alex opens the browser and pulls up Kara’s email. She clicks around a few times and Kara watches as her face falls. Her sister’s face goes white and tears gather in her eyes. A panicked and grief-stricken look settles on her sister’s face before she opens and closes her mouth a few times. Another deep breath. She sits the device in Kara’s lap before clearing her throat and dropping her hands into her own. “I knew Lena wouldn’t give up trying to contact you and I was so pissed at how much she hurt you, Kara. While you were driving to National City, I, umm…” A shaky breath, another hard swallow. “I blocked Lena’s email address so you wouldn’t get anything she sent to you.” The last part of her sentence is so quiet Kara almost doesn’t hear it.
Almost.
When Alex finally looks up, she can see her sister clicking through emails with tears streaming down her face. “Alex…” It’s a broken whisper, barely audible. As blue eyes finally look up, there is an anger unlike anything the redhead has seen before. “Get out. I want you out of my apartment right now. Do not talk to me right now, Alex. Just get the fuck out of my apartment. Now.”
It’s not loud. It’s not harsh. It’s broken and it rips Alex’s heart in two. She silently stands, gathers her jacket and keys before briefly pausing at the door. “I’m really sorry, Kara. I love you and I’m really, really sorry.”
There’s nothing but silence before the door softly closes. Once Kara is alone, she sifts through the emails. All of the things she missed over the last eight years. Lena tried. She tried to reach out, to fix things and Kara didn’t know. There were at least ten emails from the first few months after the breakup. A few more scattered across the first year and then one per year with a simple heart on the anniversary of their first date. Lena probably thinks…
Then, she sees the last email received. Dated today, sent early that morning.
From: [email protected]
Date: October 16, 2023, 12:01 a.m.
Subject: One Last Time
Hi Kara,
I remember everything. Your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes sparkle when you get excited. Every October 16th after you left Cambridge, I went to our park and retraced our steps. It was never the same without you. Of course it wasn’t, but it always made me feel closer to you.
You made me so happy, Darling. Being with you felt like being home, like I was finally whole and where I was meant to be. Losing you was the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. Even now, I feel like part of me is missing. You took part of me with you that day, Kara. I haven’t been the same since.
I know it’s been eight years and I know it’s a shot in the dark, but I have to try one last time to reach you. I’m in National City. If you want to and are available, I’d like to see you again. Meet me inside Centennial Park at 7:00 p.m. tonight. There’s a bench about one hundred feet from the gate to the left next to the footpath. I’ll be there until 8:00 p.m.
If you don’t show, I’ll understand. Just know I remember everything and I’ll always remember you.
All my love,
Lena
Kara’s eyes go wide. She scrambles up from her couch, looking down at her watch and almost dropping her laptop. Shoving the laptop onto the coffee table, she steps into her shoes, snatches her keys and jacket, and bolts down the stairs. She doesn’t have a car and the park is at least a thirty minute walk, but the bus would be just as long. Without another option, she starts running.
It was nearly 8:17 p.m. when she left her apartment so the odds of Lena still being there were slim, but she had to try. Her legs moved before her brain caught up, she ran as fast as she could. She’s in pretty good shape, she runs almost every morning and does a lot of walking around the city, but tonight it feels like she’s running through sludge. Kara rounds the corner into the park at 8:43. While she managed to make the run in twenty-six minutes, she can already tell she’s too late.
The bench is vacant and Kara’s heart falls. She plops herself onto the metal and huffs in frustration. As her hand settles on the bench beside her, she feels something under her palm. Her fingers wrap around it and she brings it closer. It’s some sort of woven bracelet. Upon closer inspection, she immediately recognizes it. It’s one of the silly bracelets she made for her and Lena when they first became friends. They each had one. Lena wore hers, but Kara kept hers on the keychain Lena bought her on their first date alongside her apartment key. She pulls out her phone to shine a light on it. Sure enough, it’s the one she kept on her keychain. Right there in the middle of the bracelet are their initials.
Lena really had been here and Kara missed her chance. She sat there for a while. She’s not sure how long, but eventually she walks back toward her apartment. Without a care for the time of night or for how long it would take, she dejectedly makes her way home. Another chance stolen, her second chance lost.
--
Lena didn’t go into the office the following day. She couldn’t bring herself to face anyone. Her eyes were certainly swollen and her mind was in no condition to function properly. She sighs and rolls over in bed, her hand automatically reaching for the keychain she plays with every morning. As her hand settles on it, she pauses, something is missing.
Her body bolts upright, feet swinging to the side of the bed and hitting the floor with a thud. She snatches the prized item up and stares at it in disbelief. The bracelet that has been on the keychain for close to a decade is missing. It has to be at the park, she thinks. It must have fallen off when she was toying with it on the bench last night. She blows out a harsh breath. “Of course.” She mumbles to herself. “That would fit with the rest of my evening. Why not top it off with losing the bracelet?”
With that, she heads to the shower to remove yesterday’s makeup and grime. Maybe it will make her feel a little more human. Maybe it won’t. Either way, she has to get up and get cleaned up.
Across the city, Kara is suffering a similar fate. She wakes up feeling hungover. Emotionally, physically, and mentally, she is exhausted. After a phone call to her boss, she plans to work from home for the day. She’s not sure how much work she’ll get done, but at least she doesn’t have to face any people. At the very least, she can finish up the research for her upcoming interview with one of the lead scientists at Spheerical. The interview isn’t until Friday, so she still has plenty of time.
The thought stops her in her tracks. She knows Lena is in National City, so the chance of her seeing the beautiful genius is higher than it’s ever been. While she wants to see the woman, she also doesn’t know if she’s truly prepared for it. With this in mind, she pulls up the email from her boss to double-check the name of the scientist she’s scheduled to interview. It’s the same woman she interviewed previously, Felicity Smoak. The knowledge puts her at ease and she gets back to her research and preparation.
Both women spend the rest of the week trudging through the remainder of their daily grind with the enthusiasm of a doorknob. Neither of them have recovered from their experience on Monday and neither are really in the headspace to figure out how to move on from it. Lena is still in an immense amount of pain knowing the last spark of hope she had is well and truly doused. Kara is so angry with her sister and herself that she can’t think of anything else. It hasn’t yet occurred to her that she knows Lena’s email address is active and she could respond to the email and explain her absence.
It seems even after eight years, they still haven’t gotten their heads out of their asses.
--
After arriving at her office as usual, Lena spends her Friday morning reviewing budgets, new project proposals, and current project status reports. It’s the mundane part of her job as head of R & D that makes her want to pluck her eyeballs out. She’s just about to move on to the next proposal when her phone intercom buzzes to life.
“Miss Luthor…” The smooth voice of her assistant, Jess, echoes through the speaker.
“Yes, Jess. Go ahead.” Lena says, casually closing the proposal and grabbing the next one.
“Sorry to disturb you, Miss Luthor. Your lunch is here. Also, Miss Smoak asked if you can cover a meeting for her this afternoon.” Jess says, the sound of typing evident in the background.
Lena shifts in her chair. Felicity is the R & D manager for the National City branch and typically doesn’t ask her to handle anything unless it’s absolutely necessary. “What type of meeting and what time, Jess? I already have a meeting at 2:00.”
Jess sighs, she knows Lena’s schedule inside out so she is aware of the meeting, but keeps that information to herself. “She said It’s an interview for a science journal or magazine about the upcoming tech and prosthetic release. Miss Smoak had an emergency and won’t be here to cover it.” More sounds of muffled typing sound over the line. “The scheduled interview isn’t until 3:30 so it won’t impact your schedule in any way.”
“Thanks, Jess. Can you bring my lunch in? I’ll just have it at my desk.” She rubs the back of her neck, all of the tension and emotion from the week seems to have settled there. “Let me know when my two o’clock arrives.”
She spends the next two hours reviewing the rest of the documents and doing her best not to think about Kara and the sting of knowing all hope is lost. Her chest has been filled with a dull ache since the moment she realized the woman wasn’t coming. To say she’s used to it would be a lie, but she’s adjusting.
Across town, Kara leans back in her chair and reviews her list of questions, cross-referencing her research notes one last time before she packs everything into her messenger bag to head out. Her walk to Spheerical won’t take long, but she doesn’t want to risk being late so she gives herself plenty of time for any delays. She’s definitely a lot more nervous for this interview than the last one with Miss Smoak. This prosthetic is supposed to be cutting edge and is set to change the game for amputees. In short, it’s an article that could put her on the short list for another award, but her nerves aren’t related to any award. No. Her stomach is twisted into knots at the idea of possibly seeing Lena.
As much as she wants to push the idea from her head, the more she tries, the more green eyes seem to float across her thoughts. She huffs in frustration at herself and sets her jaw in determination to overcome her traitorous mind. By the time she enters the glass doors of Spheerical, she feels like she has more control and is ready to get to work. A widest, most charming smile gets plastered across her face as she approaches the reception desk.
“Hi! I’m here for an interview with Felicity Smoak.��� Kara says as she hands over her I.D. and CatCo badge. “It should be under Kara Danvers for CatCo Worldwide Media.”
The young gentleman at the desk returns her smile and takes her information. A few minutes later, she is handed a visitor's pass and moved along to the elevator. Stepping into the elevator seems to increase the gymnastics inside her stomach so she leans back against the cool metal of the wall and takes a few deep breaths. By the time she has opened her eyes again, the doors are opening to drop her on the tenth floor. It’s the same place she met with Felicity the last time and it settles her nerves a bit. It’s familiar scenery and the same smiling receptionist.
“Miss Danvers, it’s good to see you again.” The receptionist smiles, standing to show her into the conference room across the hallway. “Go ahead and have a seat, she’ll be with you shortly. Help yourself to the refreshments.”
Kara grabs a bottle of water, deciding she doesn’t need anything that will make her any more jittery than she already is. She sits down and pulls her things out of her bag, getting everything settled for the interview. Her eyes and mind are so focused on her task that she doesn’t notice the door opening and closing.
The sound of footsteps breaks the reporter out of her focus. When Kara looks up, it is into all too familiar eyes, her favorite shade of green. Their eyes meet across the room, wide and shocked. Both of them momentarily freeze. It’s been 8 years since they last spoke or were remotely close to one another. Almost a decade since they went from the center of each other’s world to mere strangers in a quiet conference room. Hurt green eyes meet surprised blue across the large room. They stare at one another inside a building full of people oblivious to the world-stopping moment happening around them.
Amid the silence, Kara can see Lena’s face has gone ashen and her throat keeps bobbing with harsh swallows. Before they realize what’s happening, both of them are talking at the same time. Kara is out of her chair and speaking before Lena is even halfway to the table. The shocked scientist heads toward the table and does her best to keep her tone professional.
Once Kara realizes Lena is sitting in the chair with a no-nonsense look on her face, she plops herself back into her own and looks up. Azure eyes comb over pale features, finally settling on pain-stricken viridian eyes. They hold the stare for a brief moment before Lena straightens her back. Kara can see when the Luthor mask emerges from the pained features of the woman she loves.
“I apologize, Miss Danvers. Miss Smoak had to leave for a personal matter so she asked me to fill in.” Lena states with a matter of fact tone, no emotion and strictly professional. “I understand you’re here to talk about the new prosthetic line and the tech we’re releasing next month. It seems Miss Smoak allotted an hour and a half. If you have your questions ready, we can get started.”
Kara’s shoulders drop. She feels her eyes stinging with tears and isn’t sure if she can stop them from flowing. Lena is being crystal clear that she’s keeping this professional and has no intention of veering into anything personal. The reporter closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to center herself. She clears her throat, opens her eyes, and gets to work. “Of course, Miss Luthor. I’ll do my best to make this as painless and efficient as possible.”
The interview starts and things are a bit stilted. It isn’t until Kara makes one of her signature terrible puns that they both laugh and things settle into a more natural rhythm. Kara asks her questions and Lena provides the most detailed and honest answers she can without revealing too much. The reporter smiles and sits her head in her hand as she watches the love of her life gesture passionately about one of her newest inventions. It reminds her of all the nights they spent on their couch in their apartment sharing stories about classes and just life in general. She must have missed something the scientist said because she is broken from her thoughts when a hand lands on her forearm.
“”Hey, everything okay?” Lena asks, brow furrowed in concern. “I called your name several times and you didn’t respond.”
Kara nods her head, clearing her throat in embarrassment. “Y-Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Just got lost in my head for a bit. I’m sorry.” She flashes a half-hearted smile and sits back to flip through her notebook. Scanning to make sure she didn’t skip any questions and counting the remaining ones, she looks back up. “Seems like we only have five more questions left.”
Lena watches her for a few more seconds, biting her lip as if to hold back from saying something. Whatever it is dies on her tongue as she shakes her head and gestures for the reporter to continue. They get through the remaining questions in record time. Kara gives a polite thank you and starts stuffing all of her items back into her bag. Once everything is packed away, she glances around to make sure nothing was missed and stands. Pushing her chair back under the table, she turns to walk away. For the second time in eight years, she’s walking away from the woman she loves. Just as her hand lands on the handle of the door, she stops and turns.
“I showed up.” Kara mumbles quietly as she fidgets with the strap of her bag, eyes fixed on her feet. “I was too late, but I was there. Just wanted you to know.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the bracelet she found sitting on the bench. When she looks up and her eyes find Lena’s, she can see the surprise on her face. A broken smile barely lifts the corners of her mouth as she turns to leave the room. Before she can wrap her hand completely around the handle again, a cold hand settles on her warm skin. She freezes.
“You were there.” It’s quietly whispered. Like a leaf rustling in the breeze, it’s barely audible. Lena isn’t sure she can speak any louder, there’s a lump of emotion in her throat she’s been begging to stay put all week. “I waited and waited. Almost two hours. You never came.”
Kara spins around, her eyes wide with fear. She’s desperate to explain, panicked that things will spiral and she won’t get another chance. “Lena, I promise I would have been there sooner if I had known. Alex, she did this thing…I wasn’t getting your emails. Then she undid the thing…then I got the emails and I kicked her out, but I didn’t see the…”
She takes a breath and starts again. “Once I saw the email, I took off running. Lena, I ran as fast as I could and it should’ve taken thirty minutes, but I did it in twenty-six. And I was still too late.” Her face drops and tears sting her eyes again. This time she doesn’t stop them, she just lets them fall. If this is the last time she gets to be in the same room with Lena, at least it will be honest.
Green eyes observe with interest, she’s not really sure what Kara’s rambling about, but she has deduced that Alex did something. Blocked her email address, she thinks? Then she unblocked it and Kara got the messages. It’s still not really clear. A humorless laugh pushes through her lips, why doesn’t she just ask?
“Kara, I’m not really sure what you are trying to tell me. Can you slow down for a second and explain?” Lena asks, her hands involuntarily raising to wipe the blonde’s tears. When she realizes what she’s doing, she pulls her hands away and steps back. “Why don’t we sit back down? Sounds like this is going to take a while.”
So they sit. They talk about what happened on Monday and why Kara never responded to any of her messages over the years. It doesn’t fix things. It doesn’t make everything better. They still have a lot to talk about and a million things to sort out, but they’re talking. It’s more than either of them could have anticipated a few days ago. They make plans for dinner the following day and discover they both kept the same numbers just in case the other ever tried to call.
As they stand outside the elevator, getting ready to part ways, Kara lifts the bracelet up again, offering it to Lena. “I can’t believe you still have this. It was always attached to my keychain. It was the one you bought me on our first date, I always kept my apartment key on it.” She grinned down at the brilliant woman as long fingers plucked the bracelet out of her hand. Her eyes trace the movement of her other hand lifting something from her jacket pocket.
Kara’s jaw drops in disbelief. It’s the keychain.
“I’ve kept it with me everyday since you left. I’m not sure why. I think maybe it was my way of staying connected to you. Holding it always takes me back to places we went and things we did.” Lena shrugs, running her fingers across the ridges of the metal. “For a really long time I wished I didn’t, but I remember everything, Kara. Now, I’m glad I do.”
A teary smile spreads across Kara’s face. “How do you feel about starting over?”
Lena lets out a wet laugh. “Mmm, I’m not sure that’s really what I want.” She pauses to hold her hand to her chin, staring at the reporter. “Hear me out. Starting over feels like forgetting everything and starting new. I don’t want that. Our history and our past are what built us. What if we just talk things out and start again?”
“Yeah, I like that.” Kara smiles, tears slowly drying on her cheeks.” Let’s start again.”
“I told you, I remember everything. I want to keep it that way.” Lena smiles and presses a kiss to her cheek. They share one more smile. Kara disappears into one elevator and Lena into the other.
Things aren’t perfect and it’s not going to be easy, but they’re starting again. What more could they ask for?
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Tarnished Mirror; Ch. 1
-[CW: Brief mentions of Suicide]-
“I was expecting you’d be here soon enough.”
Neo stood still as she stared up at the Blacksmith, starting to rethink her quick decision to jump into the colorful leaves of the Tree.
“Hm? Oh, I see. You don’t quite know what to do here, do you?”
Neo shook her head, a tiny bit of tension draining from her as the Blacksmith’s voice began to calm her. Her thoughts raced with the last few things she saw outside. The others saving her by using the smoke of the leaves, the cat screaming as she snuffed its life, the others nothing more than thankful that Ruby was still herself. Just thinking about Ruby was met with a pang of guilt, with how she forced her to practically commit suicide, and when her desire was filled, nothing but emptiness was what she felt.
“You seem… sorry. You only wanted vengeance–no, closure–and you got it. There have been others that came here for the same reasons. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Now you have a choice to make, a choice that is yours and yours alone.”
As the Blacksmith spoke, a wide array of weapons rose from the ground. Some familiar and some not, some too heavy to even think about and some so light they could float. But there were two weapons whose weight and quality couldn’t be described: one, a parasol with an impossibly sharp blade inside.
The other, a pair of weapons. A sharp shield with scooped indents on either side, and a weapon capable of swapping between a Javelin, Sword, and Rifle. Though Neo’s eyes briefly lingered on the all-too-familiar parasol, the other pair grabbed her gaze as the Blacksmith continued.
“Your choice is who you want to be. No matter what that choice is, as soon as you make it you will be the person who wielded that weapon. It seems you’ve already left yourself behind once, but you are still you. Should you choose, that will no longer be the case.”
Neo couldn’t help but approach the case with the paired weapons inside, still glancing back at the parasol. With every glance, though, it felt heavier. She had held that same weapon for so long and she knew that it was her perfect weapon, so why did it feel so wrong now? Why did these bronze weapons seem so much more fitting?
“Those weapons are as good a choice as any. Do know that every weapon has its weight, that every person who wields a weapon has burdens. While picking up their weapon may release you of your troubles, you will be shouldering theirs.”
Pressing her hand to the case of the weapons, Neo felt an inherent rightness. Like a river finally reaching an ocean, an immaculate completeness. She could feel tears start to well up as the Blacksmith somehow perfectly put her messy thoughts into words.
“You’ve taken so much, so you think it’s time you gave back instead? If that is your choice, then very well.”
Neo closed her eyes as she noticed all the other weapons sinking away, giving a final glance to the parasol before feeling her new weapons in her hands. She feels her body suddenly change, and the last thing she sees is a gateway into a jungle in the Ever After as her memories slowly fade. As she steps through, the Blacksmith speaks again.
“Just as I have done for the others, you will be brought to when you are needed most. Though it is not my part to influence your fate, I wish you the best of luck, Pyrrha Nikos.”
================================================
Just as the Gateway closes, Pyrrha realizes she has no idea where she is. She thinks out loud, and though her voice comes easily it feels odd in her mouth. Every word feels strange to say, like it was the first time she was speaking at all.
“Where am I? Wasn’t I just… What’s happening?”
Pyrrha tries and tries to remember anything, but all she sees in her memory is the impact of the Wyvern Grimm against the tower where she was fighting. Everything feels fuzzy like she was looking through stained glass and hearing with ear muffs on.
“I must’ve gotten injured… But nothing hurts at all. Maybe a dream thanks to hitting my head? No, everything feels too… real, too coherent…”
All Pyrrha can think to do is look around. Trees all around, a thick canopy shading her from too much light, and herself with her weapons. She starts to pat all over her body in search of any injuries or abnormalities and finds nothing. Nothing save for a lock of her hair, a chocolate brown instead of the usual red. She pulls and brushes at the brown, assuming that it’s dirt or mud stuck into her, but nothing comes out. As her motions get more manic her thoughts do as well, her mind drifting to her friends.
“Calm down, calm down. Something happened, I just have to figure out what exactly. The last thing I remember is getting knocked back by that impact, so I must’ve hit my head hard enough to lose whatever happened next. I can’t be far from Beacon, if I get somewhere high up I could look around and find my way.”
Now with a concrete goal, Pyrrha let go of her hair and glanced around. Upon spotting the Tree through a gap in the canopy, she quickly heads straight towards it. But then she realizes that the vine she just passed looks familiar, and that vine too. And didn’t she just walk past that rock? Something is wrong.
So Pyrrha sat still for a moment, confused. To test her growing suspicions, she tore a vine from a nearby tree and wrapped it around the branch of one ahead of her. She tied it snugly and then kept moving forward. As she emerged from the thick bushes she saw that same tied vine. Pyrrha balanced her spear on her forearm and used her semblance to magnetize it, now seeing that the direction she was trying to go was north.
“North isn’t an option, okay. How about south- okay, I guess that’s north too.” Pyrrha says as she turns around, seeing that her spear-turned-compass thinks that north is all around her.
Now just using the faraway Tree as a landmark, she turns and finds that her path isn’t infinitely looping anymore. As to why, she doesn’t know, but thankfully she finds a site of interest soon after to distract her. A small clearing with one strange tree in the center. She reaches for the strange, clock-like fruits but notices on the opposite side of the tree lies one of the fruits on the ground, clearly dented and smashed.
From the damage to the fruit, it looks like it was frantically smashed in, and clearly, this was quite a long time ago as its metal parts are rusted so badly that just picking it up nearly breaks it in half.
“I couldn’t even hope to guess what this thing does if it was working, but I don’t think I want to find out. Someone must have found out and broken it, and it looks like it took a few hits to do it.”
Pyrrha glances around after she sets the strange fruit down, not seeing much. She does spot a lightly trodden path though, and as she nears the end, she finds a small camp that looks recently visited, but currently unoccupied. She keeps a good eye out, but goes ahead and scouts the small camp.
“Small tent, campfire, and… Perfect, a map of the area. Apologies to whoever is living here, but I’ll be sure to thank you later.” Pyrrha thought out loud as she also found a small pouch with some jerky in it, quickly stashing it away for when she inevitably got hungry. As she looked around for anything else of use, she saw a small note written in scrawling, frantic writing that has a sort of… familiar twinge to it.
DON’T FORGET:
-Clock fruits: Harvest by cutting the vine instead of plucking, Jinxy wanted one in exchange for another year or two. Done, but go barter since Jinxy lied and only gave a month
-Check the Monster’s Grave, make sure he didn’t come back again
-Wait, make sure none of the Monster’s victims fall for the clock fruits like he did
-If the Monster comes back then don’t fight, reminding him of what he did to Penny works faster
“...Penny? What the… This has to be a different Penny, right…?” Is all that Pyrrha can say, her thoughts again being said aloud. She looks over the note again and on the back sees more manic words, but written in handwriting that she finally recognizes.
The Monster isn’t back he just never left I am the Monster please please please Penny I’m sorry please someone anyone help me kill me
Despite the agitated writing, Pyrrha recognizes the handwriting nearly instantly, the shorter note on the back being clearer than the scrawled front.
“Jaune…?”
================================================
(That's the end of Chapter One, everything past this is just me the author rambling~ And here's a link to Chapter Two!)
Hello everyone! I doubt that anyone really knows me, I don't post much but I wrote this quite a while ago and recently touched it up a little and finished what I think is a good "Chapter" of sorts! I think it could be shorter or longer, but after months of on-and-off writing I finally got to a point where I think it works well enough on its own, which is something I strive for with writing since there are a lot of times I condemn a WIP to the shadow realm known as "Write later."
Anyways I'd just like to thank one person in particular, @pilot-boi for at least somewhat entertaining an idea I had a few months back. Had it not been for you saying that you like the idea even a little, this short work may have never existed and would have never been posted, so thank you so so so so so much. I've written a lot of things that just kinda came out of nowhere that not a lot of people have found interesting so I never bothered to post them anywhere, but the tiny bit of encouragement that you gave me was a spark. I can only hope that spark stays lit long enough for me to write this AU out fully, and maybe for me to give the series an ending that I think it needs.
Thanks everyone for reading, and have a wonderful day/morning/night~ Toodles!
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my male coworkers are fucking crazy it’s so funny this dude asked me what my plans for the day were and i was either knocking out or going to the movies and he’s like oh shit lemme hop on so i was like sure and we tried inviting our other coworker but blah blah im like we can plan for next week if it doesn’t work for her and he’s like nah we’ll just go then texts me while i’m driving home like actually i can’t see a movie alone with u it would need to be a group for my gf to approve HELP?
#personal#it was just so funny to me bc he asked to come with!!!#i was the one pushing for our coworker!!!#it was like all that for what??????#anyway that and my other coworker being like yeah no i can’t take ur number my gf would go insane#straight relationship boundaries are so fuckin crazy#or maybe it’s just me but still both times i was like :0#to be clear it wasn’t even in that sense i was getting my other coworkers info bc she was gonna take a nap and i was gonna call if she o#overslept through lunch and i offered if he wanted to get in my contacts too then he detailed his situation but like holy fuck that’s funny#all my coworkers that i hang with are a little qookie like the other day one of them straight admitted to stealing shit at some stores#and everyone including our trainer was like right. never say that at work again.#and then today i held a funeral for a baby bird while detailing MY situation with audrey and gg#yes they’re my partners we’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together#no we’re not sexually or romantically involed but honestly there’s a lot of tension and grey areas but we’re cool with it#they come first in my life but we’re allowed to get partners since we ain’t actually u know#and i didn’t mention but when going over it it’s like well fuck i need another partner for anyway i have them but that’s TOO faggy#inspired by my coworker who always talks about her wife letting us know it’s not a legal situation but of the heart and everyone was like#:0. also so funny she made a cutting joke no one got but me and we had like 30 seconds of non sensical laughing and screaming while#discreetly show scars and no one knew what was happening it was pretty funny
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take my heart and start a fire
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader
word count || 4566
summary || sam and nat play cupid
warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, degradation, teasing, dry-humping, daddy kink, pussy slaps, dacryphilia, begging, asphyxiation, unprotected sex, aftercare
author's note || 18+ ONLY. hello, one-bed trope with bucky lives in my mind rent free and i decided to do something about it. enjoy! not proof-read yet. feel free to comment, reblog, and send me requests!
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
“Alright, we got two rooms, one with just one bed and one with two beds. Should be enough to cover us tonight.” Sam claps his hands together as Bucky slowly walks up to the group.
This was supposed to be a quick in-and-out mission. It was not easy by any means, but it was nothing the group hadn’t done before. You weren’t even supposed to be here. Usually, you did most of SHIELD’s groundwork, directing and organizing missions alongside Maria. However, due to issues with communication with one particular agent in the previous mission, Fury had instructed you to be on-site to ensure there would be no gaps in the instructions Maria and Steve were relaying.
Except there was a gap. There was a gigantic gap in communication when you instructed Bucky to cover the cargo trailers in the westbound direction. Still, he decided you were wasting his time, so he left the trailers unattended, where the enemy was then able to take advantage of his isolation and overpower him. Had Natasha not interfered when she did, you did not even want to think about what could have happened. So you let him know just how pissed off you were the whole ride to the nearest motel since the world decided to unleash torrential rain at this very moment which made it impossible for you guys to navigate the jet out of whatever fucking city you were in.
Bucky didn’t say a single word. Not when you were yelling at him while patching him up. Not when you wouldn't shut the fuck up because he never fucking listened. Not when you were running into the beat-down motel with its flickering sign on its last life while still screaming at him.
He just stared at you. And he occasionally clenched his jaw.
This wasn’t the first time Bucky disobeyed your direct order and it wasn’t the first time he got hurt because of that. You understood him, tried to initiate kindness, and extended a friendly hand toward him. But all he ever did was stare at you. He never spoke to you more than he absolutely needed to. He never paid any attention to you when you would hang out with Steve, Sam, or even Nat and Wanda. And it did sting you just a bit. A pang in your heart every time he walked past you like you didn’t exist because you had developed a crush on him since the first time you saw him a few months ago. When you would put a little extra effort into your appearance every morning because he made you feel little butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach every time you would even cross paths.
When you did catch him staring at you, the weight of his eyes unmistakable, your heart rate would increase to match the flutters in your stomach, your cheeks heating under his gaze. He would look away immediately as if thrown out of his trance and catapulted into what he truly felt for you.
Disdain. Disgust. Maybe a little lust.
God, you hated Bucky Barnes. You hated how you didn’t hate him, not even when he dismissed you somehow even more than he ignored everyone else.
You were going to share a bed with Nat. Bucky and Sam could get the room with two beds because, of course, that was a reasonable conclusion.
Apparently fucking not.
“I am not sharing a bed with him!” you screeched at Sam and Nat indignantly while the smug pair stood with faux innocent expressions. They needed you and Bucky to sort out whatever tension was between them by any means necessary.
They stayed silent, and you, ever the chatterbox today, decided to refuse. “Nat, I can’t sleep in the same room as him. He hates me! I can’t sleep when I’m stressed!” You whined, pleading with your best friend to take some pity on you. She knew better than anyone what you felt for Bucky, and she also knew love better than anyone when she saw it.
Sam and Bucky walked a few steps ahead as you approached your door.
“Sweetie, you and me are the only ones keeping up comms with Steve and Maria. It makes sense for us to be split up tonight so we can at least direct these morons at the same time and handle any issues faster than we’d be able to if we shared a room and they were in the other one.” Natasha knew she was right, and Sam fought back a smirk as their plan was falling into fruition, given the look on your face.
Bucky remained quiet as if he could not possibly care less if you slept on top of him in bed or a ditch.
You were this close to wishing the latter was your inevitable fate.
“I hate it when you’re right.” As you approach the doors, you mutter and watch Sam take out the room keys.
Sam offers a small smile as Bucky walks in before you, patting you on the head and giving you a forehead kiss, “sweet dreams, pumpkin,” before shutting the door behind you as you roll your eyes.
“I’m not sleeping on the floor.” Bucky’s voice cut through the uncomfortable silence that had fallen after the lock clicked. His voice was raspy because he hadn’t used it in a while, and you barely held back the shiver that ran down your spine at his tone.
You take one look at the fraying carpet and decide that it has been years since this floor had some TLC. You look up at him to find his heavy-set eyes already on you, “I’m not sleeping on the floor either.”
His jaw clenches, and another unreadable emotion swirls in his eyes as he replies, “Guess that settles it, then.”
You roll your eyes and huff out that you’re jumping in the shower, not waiting for his reply- not that there was one. The water takes a while to warm up, and in the meantime, you peel your clothes off of yourself, dirtied by rainwater and the dirt, debris, and sweat that had accumulated earlier. You step into the shower and try to enjoy the feel of warm water cascading over your sore body.
You rarely made it onto the field as you genuinely preferred doing the background work, planning missions, writing up plans and procedures, assigning responsibilities to each Avenger and guiding them through the field while you stayed at the headquarters. Your muscles were undoubtedly aware of that fact, as you had to do a lot more hand-to-hand combat due to Bucky’s stupid mistake.
You couldn’t help but let your mind wander towards him, knowing you were completely bare just 10 feet away from him, how he would grunt in exertion and deliver calculated blows to his opponent. He was precisely your type: tall, brooding, broad shoulders, thick thighs. He didn’t speak that much, but his words were carefully weighed every time he did. He was so grumpy all the time, such a masculine man. You just loved it.
You tried not to think about how he didn’t feel the same. And also about the fact that you would be sharing a bed with him.
The water grew cold, and you realized you had been in the shower for upwards of twenty minutes. You shut off the water and wrap yourself in one of the towels provided by the hotel. You pulled out your pyjama set since there was a possibility that you would have to stay somewhere tonight due to the heavy rain. You didn’t think you were sleeping with Bucky, or you would have grabbed something a bit more conservative. You slip into the white tank top and shorts with a dainty floral design. You mentally prepared yourself to make a bee-line for the bed so you wouldn’t have to face Bucky while wearing next to nothing.
A few feet away, Bucky was scrolling through the shitty channels playing on the shitty TV, ignoring the way his heart raced when the bathroom door unlocked and you emerged from the small room. He tried so hard not to stare at your outfit, unable to ignore the way all the blood in his body rushed to his dick when your tiny shorts rolled up even higher as you innocently bent over to check over your work laptop for any updates.
“You really gonna wear that?” He scoffs and immediately realizes it didn’t exactly come out as playful as he would have liked. He winces at himself as you put the laptop back into its case and turn around to face him, and he can't stop himself from quickly glancing over your body.
Crossing your arms under your chest, unintentionally drawing his attention to your tits, you scoff at him. “If I knew I was gonna be stuck in this shithole with you, then I would have made sure to wear a fucking hazmat suit.”
“Relax, sweetheart, I’m not gonna bite.” He smirked, finally deciding on a channel he liked and turning his attention to it as you stood and stared at him, mouth open because out of all the things you expected him to say, that was not one of them, especially not with the flirtatious lilt to his voice.
“Do not- do not tell me to relax! And don’t call me that! And- and ugh!” You retort weakly, strutting the few steps it took to get to the other side of the bed,
Bucky licks his lips as you lay down next to him with your back towards him. Still huffing and puffing like the brat you were.
He snorts at you, glancing at his watch and turning the TV off.
“Do not snort at me, James.” Your voice comes out sharp, and he snorts again.
“Tell me again what I can’t do, sweetheart? " he asks in a mockingly sweet voice. It makes you sick to your stomach.
With desire.
You ignore him and tug the small comforter towards you, the bed suddenly feeling really small, with Bucky’s large frame taking up more than half of it.
“Quit stealing the covers.” He grunts out, tugging them back towards him and leaving you bare and exposed to the cool air of the room. You gasp and sit up., using all your force to pull the covers back towards you, and even though you both know he let go, you still stick your tongue out at him.
He grumbles something under his breath, and you smile victoriously. You’ll let the covers go eventually; you need to bask in your victory for a few minutes. Your mind begins to relax as you snuggle into the bed before you hear a sharp exhale, and somehow, you go from facing the dim wall to being pinned under Bucky. His frame entirely dwarfs yours, and the only light filtering in the room was the street lights and moon, the thin curtains doing nothing to block the shine. You shriek as you’re manhandled so quickly and forced to look into Bucky’s now dark blue eyes.
“Enough. I’ve had enough.” He growls, his hand pinning both your wrists down, and you have to fight yourself to keep in all tells of how aroused you are by the situation.
“You’re such a fucking brat,” he continues. “Didn’t shut up for two hours straight. Always think you’re right. Always act like you’re smarter than everyone. Always fucking teasing me with your slutty fucking outfits.” He looks down at your tank top, almost angry when he sees your nipples poking through the thin material, but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything.
Because now, Bucky’s talking. And he’s going to make sure you hear each and every word.
“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?”
A squeak escapes your lips as he presses his body down on yours.
“You think I can’t hear the way your heart rate picks up when I’m around?” His head drops lower, and his voice drops even lower, pulling a whimper from your parted lips. Your mind is spinning as you realize you may not have been as discreet as you thought you were. You entirely forgot to consider the fact that Bucky is a supersoldier, with enhanced hearing.
His rumbling voice cuts through your flurry of thoughts, “You think I can’t fucking smell you?” He practically sneers at you, and you must be a sick, sick person with the way you’re sure you’ve never been more wet in your life. “You think I can’t smell the way you drip from this little pussy every time I walk in the room? Every time someone mentions my goddamn name? I can smell her right now sweetheart. You like me forcing you down don’t you?” His breath fans over your face as you’re forced to focus on him, his body and his scent and his voice overwhelming you. Your body shudders when he gently rocks his crotch against yours, your eyes rolling back into your head.
“What baby? Cat got your tongue now? You were being such a brat to me earlier.” He grunts, squeezing your cheeks and jaw in his free hand as you subconsciously buck your hips against his.
“Bucky please…” You whine, squirming against his impenetrable hold.
He smirks, “what’s wrong honey? You haven’t been this quiet or polite all day.”
“You- you’re being such a meanie! You knew the whole time and just never did anything about it!” You whine, your voice catching in your throat with each languid rock of his crotch angled perfectly against your clit.
He laughs in your face and takes in the sight before him, your head thrown to the side as your chest heaves, your hips moving in tandem with his, your pouted lips swollen from being bitten so often. You were even more gorgeous like this and Bucky didn’t know that was possible.
“I wanted to see if you’d break first. But then, you just had to walk in here wearing this pathetic excuse of a pyjama set. And I just had to have you honey baby.”
You look back at him, a fiery expression in your eyes, “I don’t think that’s the real reason. I think you just wouldn’t be able to handle me. I think you can’t fuck me the way I need to be.” You spit back, not wanting to submit without a fight despite knowing that was exactly the direction this was going.
In an instant Bucky’s metal hand was on your throat, squeezing enough to make your eyes blur for a second as you let out a whimper. “Is that right honey? You think I’ve never dealt with a rotten brat like you before? I know you pretend to put up a fight, I know you’re two strokes away from cumming all over yourself just from a little dry-humping. I know brats like you crave attention, but baby when you finally get it you better not run away? You got that?” He asks earnestly, his eyes locking on yours.
“Do your worst James.”
The second the words leave your mouth, his lips are on yours. The kiss is unlike any you’ve had before, it’s immediately messy and passionate, his tongue sliding in yours as he takes the lead, swallowing all your mewls and whimpers, finally letting go of your wrists and your fingers immediately go to his cropped hair, tugging on the short strands as he dominates you. You scramble to pull your shorts down but his hands flick your wrists away, giving you a glare.
“Did I say you could take these off, huh slut?”
You whimper and shake your head no, finding yourself wanting to submit to him all too quickly.
He slides his briefs down to reveal his cock. You actually drooled a little at the sight of his length and girth, with beads of pre-cum glistening in the dim light of the room. You can’t control yourself as your hands go to wrap around his length, barely able to hold him in your hands as he hisses, bucking his hips into your hands before swatting them away once again.
“You don’t get to touch honey baby. Not yet at least. You yelled at me for hours today, it really hurt my feelings you know.” He muses, beginning to rub his length against your white shorts that are completely drenched through, your pussy sensitive and responsive. “I don’t think you deserve to be fucked sweetheart. You deserve to have this cunt rubbed on and came on. Just used like a cum rag.” He goes a little further, reading your reaction and when your back arches as much as his beefy body allowed you to, he knows you liked it.
“Please James please I’m sorry, I’ll be good I swear!” You whine, your voice rising in pitch as his bare cock slides up and down the length of your pussy, and even through the layer seperating you, it was euphoric.
“I dunno honey, might have to beg and cry a little more and I’ll see how nice I’m feelin’ tonight.” He smiles cockily, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants you. Almost instantly your eyes are watering as you clutch his biceps, morphing your features into big doe eyes and pouted lips, jutting your chest out in an attempt to persuade him further. “I’m sorry for bein’ a brat and yelling at you. I’m sorry for talking back and- and I need you James. Need you to fuck me please I wanted it for so long!” You drag your sentence and bite your lip, tears spiling onto your cheeks.
He inhales sharply at the sound of your begging, stilling his hips for a moment as he restrains himself from cumming before he’s even seen your bare pussy. And in the next second he ripping your shorts to shreds, making you shriek and you can’t even get a reaction out before he spits onto your already soaked cunt, watching his spit mingle with your own arousal. You moan at the feeling, your hold twitching and practically begging to be filled.
Bucky breathes in your scent since it envelopes his nostrils without any restrictions for the first time. When he opens his eyes again and sees your hazy expression he decides he can’t wait. He’s not gonna take it slow because he needs to feel you clench around him right now. His flesh index finger teases your pulsing hole, shoving the tip of his finger inside you as you whine, legs spreading for him on instinct. “Fuck she’s just begging to be stuffed isn’t she? Just aching to have my cock stretch her open.” He groans, dropping his forehead to yours as you chant breathy yes’s, mouth falling open and tears continuing down your face as he finally spreads you open on his cock.
You have never felt so full in your life. Bucky was absolutely larger than average, in all ways. And it was exactly what you had been craving. He moans as you clench around him, your hole trying to push him out but pull him in at the same time. Before you know it he’s balls deep inside of you, your cream coating the hairs at the base of his length as you moan loudly, uncaring of the fact that Sam and Natasha were just a paper-thin wall away.
Your nails dug crescents into Buckys bulging biceps as he allowed you both a few moments to adjust to each other. “Oh my god Bucky you’re so- I’m so full.” Your words are breathy and slurred, and Bucky presses a kiss to each of your cheeks as he slowly grinds his hips into yours, not fully thrusting yet.
“You know I want this to be more than just a quick fuck. When we get back I wanna take you out, wine and dine you properly.” He whispers against your lips, his hands and voice gentle compared to his earlier disposition.
You nod your head in agreement, “I want that too Bucky, but I need you to fuck me right now.”
He laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling almost entirely out of you, allowing your hole to stretch around his tip before he slams into you, making your back arch and all the breath from your lungs dissipates. You squeal his name as he begins fucking into you with little care to be gentle. Your hands scramble to hold on as the headboard slams into the wall with every push and pull of his hips.
“I thought you said I couldn’t handle you honey baby. But look at you now, so stupid on my dick and just taking what I give you.” He mocks you, his metal hand finding its way to your throat once again and squeezing, relishing in the way you cunt clenches against him when he does. You cry out louder than before and he hisses, slapping his palm over your mouth. He grunts through clenched teeth, “shut the fuck up. You want Sam and Nat to hear you crying for my dick huh? What would they say if they saw strong and independent you, stretched open and cock-drunk, pinned under me and crying for me?”
Your eyes clench shut as your words are unintelligible and muffled by his palm. He coos at you and clicks his tongue, making you shiver. “Don’t think too much honey baby, just take it. This is what you’re meant to do, not be a brat. Just take my cock.” He groans, speeding up his thrusts as the sound of skin slapping skin and your wetness squelching fill the room.
Your chest begins heaving as the oxygen to your brain takes more effort to get there. You were being propelled to your orgasm as you begin chanting the fact, your voice so pornographic and unlike your own but you can’t even find it in yourself to be shocked.
“‘M gonna cum, m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me cum please Daddy please!” The words leave your lips faster than you can process, and what was about to erupt into the most powerful orgasm you have ever had, was left denied and unsatisfied and you cried out, beginning your protests when Bucky flipped you around, your back to his chest as he shoved himself back inside of you. He pulled you up by your hair and brought his lips to your ears, his cock hitting an even deeper angle as you struggled to keep up.
“What did you call me?” He growls, not letting up his thrusts but expecting you to answer.
Your brain struggles to process his words, but once you do you’re quick to realize you let the word you often used in your fantasies about Bucky slip. You immediately apologize, thinking he must be off-put by your lewdness.
He cuts your scrambled apologies off with his heavy voice, “say it again. That’s what you’ve been really dying to call me isn’t it. Just needed Daddy to take what he needed from you didn’t you?”
“Oh fuck.” Your head falls against his chest as he wraps his bicep around your throat, forcing you upright, “yes Daddy, needed my Daddy to take care of me.” You slur out, Your hands clutching his bicep as his metal fingers begin playing expertly with your throbbing clit.
“That’s right slut, I’m your Daddy. I’m your fucking Daddy.” He impales you on his dick, his cock reaching all the rights spots as your brain truly begins to leave you, all you can do is succumb to the pleasure Bucky is inflicting on you. Your pussy clenches harder than it has before as your orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach, you try to run from it but Bucky’s strong hold doesn’t allow you to move even a slither away.
“Oh what does this little pussy clenching mean huh? Tell Daddy baby, tell Daddy what it means when I feel you clench around my cock huh? You gonna cum? Gonna make a mess all over yourself like the stupid little toy you are?” His voice is breathless in your ear as he nears his own high, your body shaking as your high begins building to impossible heights.
You slur out something that resembles his title and an exclamation that you’re gonna cum, and his metal hand slaps your clit once, and then twice, his gravelly voice in your ear degrading you, and your high explodes from your body. You feel it everywhere as you don’t register anything except for pleasure. Pleasure like you’ve never felt before. Bucky drops his forehead to your shoulder, muttering your name through clenched teeth as he calls you a good girl, before stuffing you full of his cum. Thick white ropes paint your swollen walls and it only amplifies your high as you struggle to breathe, your mind and body overwhelmed and overstimulated as Bucky pumps you full of his cum.
He gently lets you down and your limp body manages to cling onto him, needing to feel him close to you as you reel from your explosive orgasm. He shushes you, kissing your forehead, cooing at you, praising you. Everything you need to avoid experiencing a negative subdrop since he did just put you into such a submissive mindset.
It takes a couple minutes of his tender words and touches for you to come back to yourself, and when you do he smiles sweetly at you. Pulling out of you and shushing your whines, as he reaches over to his nightstand where there were a few clean hand towels, and he cleans you up, mindful of your sensitivity and he places a kiss right above your clit, his beard scratching the sensitive button making you shudder and mewl.
He wraps you up in his arms and pulling you closer, nuzzling your cheek with his nose as you blink at him.
“I was being serious you know, I don’t want this to be a one and done thing. I wanna be yours, if you’ll have me.” He adds, his voice trailing off and you put your hand on his stubbled cheek before pressing your lips to his.
“That’s all I’ve wanted since I first saw you.” You say softly, basking in being so close to him and having all his attention on you.
He smiles brightly, pressing his lips to yours with more fervour and flutters in his heart. “You’re mine now sweetie, stuck with me forever. No return policy.” He teases.
“I think you’re the one who’s stuck with me after you just dicked me down like that. No way am I getting rid of you.” You mumble sleepily, clinging to him as he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead and watching you slip into a dreamland state.
For the first time in years, Bucky sleeps a full eight hours. And he wakes up with you by his side.
---------
The next morning, when it’s 9 AM, and you waddle onto the jet, Bucky tailing close behind you, a hand on your back to support your weight, Natasha and Sam share knowing looks, and Sam quickly texts Steve and Tony. He let them know they were on their way, and they owed him and Nat 100 bucks because their plan worked.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes fanfiction
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cherry pits - psh (m)
this work contains smut - minors please do not interact
pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?
(Spoiler: wrong.)
genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl
word count. 12.9k
a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!
You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.
Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.
One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.
That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money.
Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.
Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.
You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.
The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.
A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.
Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.
As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.
You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty.
You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.
You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.
“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”
“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”
“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over.
The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.
“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.
You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”
You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.
—
That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.
Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.
You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice.
Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.
“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.
“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.
“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house.
“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”
He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples.
“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.
A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior.
“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.
“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.
He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”
“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.
“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.
“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.
“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.
“Sunghoon?”
“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.
“Just water is fine.”
A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.
“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”
“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).
“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”
“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.
“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.
“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”
“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”
“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”
“So you're a student?”
“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”
You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms.
You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?
You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.
“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.
“She’s turning eight this summer.”
“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”
“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”
“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”
“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts.
He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”
You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”
“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”
“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.
He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.
“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”
He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”
“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.
Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.
“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.
“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away.
On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of.
Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly.
“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.
“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”
“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.
“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.
“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”
“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.
“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you.
“C’mon, mom!”
“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”
“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.
“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”
Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.
He does live right by, after all.
That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.
“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”
You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.
“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”
“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”
You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic.
—
One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.
Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.
Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care.
Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.
You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.
“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein.
“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.
You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.”
He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”
“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”
A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”
And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.
“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.
And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right?
Wrong. It’s unbearable.
Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.
At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.
Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-
Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us.
You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.
“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”
“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”
“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”
“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”
“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.
He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”
“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.
Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”
You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”
“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.
“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.
Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.
You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well.
You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice.
He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.
Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you.
He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them.
His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.
You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss.
A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.
“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.
“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.
“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.
“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.
Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”
“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.
“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.
—
Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor.
A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table.
“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you.
Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.
This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy.
It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.
The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.
At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.
The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.
When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.
Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.
You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.
He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.”
“Hi, Sunghoon.”
He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.
Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.
Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.
Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style.
Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.
She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”
“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.
“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.
“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.
He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.
“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”
“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”
“No, that’s the thing-”
“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”
“No, just listen-”
“So let’s just forget about it, and-”
“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.
“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.
“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”
There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”
“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”
“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.
“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.
“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.
“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.
Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.
You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.
Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.
As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly.
“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.
“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.
“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.
“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.
“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.
“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.
“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.
“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.
He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.
Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.
You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.
“Really?”
“Really.”
After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.
You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”
“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.
You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.
You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”
You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.
“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.
“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.
“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.
“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”
He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”
“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.
He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.
“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”
The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.
“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax.
You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.
Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.
His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.
“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.
“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.
“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.
His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.
You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.
He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.
“Was that too much?”
“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.
“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.
“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.
“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.
You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.
—
You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.
“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.
“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.
“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.
“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”
“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.
“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.
“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”
“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.
“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn.
“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.
There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?
The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.
this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!
permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)
© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
#enhypen x reader#sunghoon x reader#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#enhypen hard hours#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon fluff#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfiction#sunghoon fanfiction#enhypen imagines#sunghoon imagines
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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4
Part Three: link
First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link
The kid was madder than a wet hen.
Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset.
Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it.
He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud.
The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.
Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.
Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.
They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.
Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.
Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.
Unfortunately, so did Eds.
Still.
Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best
Gave space.
Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.
Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink.
One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations.
Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say.
‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’
Nope.
‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’
Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure.
‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’
That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake.
Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them.
Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through.
They did not.
He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing.
Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.
The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.
Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse.
Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something.
(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here.
They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may.
Steve too.)
“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?”
Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.
An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house.
“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.
Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him.
“Figured you might have other things to say, though.”
Likely a lot of things.
It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it.
“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”
‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give.
“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.”
Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice.
Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked.
And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle.
“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat.
“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth.
Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.
(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.)
“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?”
Wayne nodded once, slow-like.
Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again.
“He did.”
“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?”
“I did.”
He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say.
Wayne took advantage.
“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”
Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.”
“‘Bout trust.”
Eddie blinked at that.
“Trust.” He echoed flatly.
“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--”
“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”
Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.”
Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him.
“One of them was me, wasn’t it.”
Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway.
He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with.
“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.”
Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like.
Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns.
“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.”
After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.
“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.”
That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had.
“How long is he staying here?”
Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.”
Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.”
“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.”
Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through.
Wayne sat with him as he processed.
Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did.
Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked;
“What if he finds out?”
This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home.
It took Wayne a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret.
The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over.
This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly. It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself.
Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved.
Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.
‘Shit.’
“He won’t.” Wayne said.
Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.”
Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side.
“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other.
Hoped that in the future, it would be.
Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.
(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.
Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)
xXx
Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.
He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.
A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.
He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest.
Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.
The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.
(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)
Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.
The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose.
Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine.
Hurt, absolutely, but alive.
Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.
‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.
Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body.
He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol.
Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door.
Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.
Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch.
Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.
Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.
The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.
Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.
It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible.
The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup.
Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.
Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him.
Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.
Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely.
At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior.
(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.)
That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.
Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.
‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough.
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!”
It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it.
Wayne rolled his eyes.
“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door.
Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries.
“I think I promised you a game, son.” Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall.
It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.
#small town rumors#this is the first part of chapter two#I will post all parts of chapter two once im done fighting through it lol#steddie#or pre steddie#where I exist as a person#best dad wayne munson#wayne pov#did I say this entire chapter was going to be eddies pov bc haha I lied#outsider pov#s3 au#hurt/comfort#enemies to lovers but like softish enemies to lovers as in Eddies not caring a whole lot that Steves hurt....yet#beat to shit steve harrington#0o0 fanfics#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#Eddies out here ready to face down snotty af rich boy king steve#keeps working himself up so much he forgets how badly off Steve is lol#dont worry his munson doctrine goes to shit later#mostly bc Eddie thinks steve stuck his nose where he shouldnt have and finally got what he deserved lmao
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Howdy! It's me again
How are you? I hope you are fine, and if not, then I encourage you from here!
Well, I would like to order something in which our dear Willy gets a little jealous because someone entered the factory and started flirting with his partner (reader) And that leads to a very affectionate moment between reader and Willy
Por cierto, qué le pones a los pedidos que escribes? Los siento muy emocionantes y me ponen a chillar a veces SJSGGWUW
(By the way, what do you put in the orders you write? I find them very exciting and they make me scream sometimes)
.—🌻
Tensions in the Factory [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
nota: ¡me hace muy feliz que te guste lo que escribo! creo que sólo se trata de hacerlo con amor (¿o algo así? jaja) Lamento haber tardado, entré a un trabajo durante vacaciones y apenas me queda tiempo, pero espero que sea de tu agrado, girasol:)
[ENG: It makes me very happy that you like what I write! I think it's just about doing it with love (or something like that? haha) I'm sorry it took me so long, I started a job during vacation and I barely have time left, but I hope you like it, sunflower:)]
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
“Your factory is impressive, Mr. Wonka,” said the man next to the boy, with a satisfied smile on his face after the tour he had given him.
Willy was pleased with the investor's recognition that he intended to finance a new branch for Wonka chocolates and if everything continued as expected, he knew that that same afternoon they would be signing a contract.
“I'm glad you like it. This is where all the magic happens, so I hope that with that new store things are even more promising for us.”
He wanted to add something else when, suddenly, he was interrupted by the vision of a person; it was you, beckoning to him from the other side of the factory with a board holding papers. He knew it had to be something important or else you would have waited, so he apologized to the young man at his side and walked quickly until he reached you.
“Oh, I'm sorry to bother you, but one of the machines that churns the chocolate is jammed and making a mess in there, do you think you can check it?” you murmured, sounding slightly worried about the situation.
“Yes, I'll go right away. While you will talk to Mr. Salt? Tell him to excuse me for a moment”
"Yes, I will do it"
“You're an angel, thank you for letting me know,” he said goodbye, gently caressing the side of your face and practically running to solve the problem you had just told him about.
The man looking at you curiously from the other side couldn't have been more than a couple of years older than Willy and he was handsome, dressed in a gray formal suit that was worthy of a businessman. You had heard that he had a lot of money and although at first the chocolatier was not very convinced, after thinking about it better he believed that it was a good time to expand his horizons; that included having more stores to sell more chocolates. He had told you about the idea and you had been excited about it, so you motivated him to contact interested businessmen.
Although you didn't really enjoy talking to strangers, you took a deep breath and walked over to where the man was to greet him.
“Mr. Salt?” you said timidly, to get his attention. He watched you for a moment and when he got a better look at you, then he smiled hugely.
“Just call me Henry, Henry Salt. It's my pleasure," he replied, reaching out to shake your hand a little longer than expected. "Are you Mr. Wonka's secretary?"
It wasn't the first time a guy thought that about you, after all you were always behind your boyfriend with that board in your hand, writing things down, checking the operation, and reminding him of everything, however, Willy had always said that you were his partner and he wouldn't expect anyone to disparage your position: this factory belongs to both of us, he always said.
But it was easier to say yes than to explain all that.
“Something like that. He asked me to tell you that he had to attend to an emergency, but that he will be right back.”
"Oh, sure. There is no problem with it as long as you keep me company” he said happily.
The man was looking at you up and down, as if you were the most interesting thing he had seen in the factory so far, but you didn't notice it, because you were too focused on the thought of how Willy was handling the machinery.
“Did you like the factory?” you exclaimed, trying to get a topic of conversation that would kill the silence that had enveloped you.
You could tell that he was an educated man, because he immediately started talking to you about the structure of the building, finances, what a good investment it would be to open a branch and also about how much he loved chocolate.
“I have a daughter named Veruca. She is just a baby, but I hope to be able to give her everything she wants in the future. I only plan to work to fulfill her whims”
“Ow, that's sweet,” you tried to flatter. At least his motives were noble.
“She looks a little like you, actually. You are very beautiful"
You had to admit that the comment threw you off, but you still laughed nervously. Maybe he was just trying to be nice to you, so you could persuade Willy to close the deal with that man.
“Huh, I appreciate it, Mr. Salt.”
“What are your favorite chocolates? I imagine that being here you eat them in droves, right?” he murmured.
You hoped that with that the conversation would take a different direction, so you started talking to him about all the types of chocolates that Willy prepared for you: the sweet ones, some salty ones, the magical ones, the strange ones...
“But I think my favorites are definitely the mint chocolates. They may be simple, but Mr. Wonka prepares them in an exceptional way," you said dreamily, remembering that upon discovering it he had prepared an entire jar just for you.
“When the branch is open, you can stop by to eat all the mint chocolates you want. At a special price for special ladies”
You laughed at that, not so much out of desire but out of commitment to the potential client. Suddenly a hand was placed on your waist and when you turned in the direction of the body that had approached you, you noticed that it was who it could only be. You frowned slightly when you noticed that he was frowning, as if something had bothered him.
“I'm sorry I was late. Everything is in order now, would you like to accompany me inside, Mr. Salt?” he said. His voice sounded calm and stern, without that cheerful tone he always had, and he still had one hand planted firmly on your body.
“Of course,” the chocolatier made a sign for the opponent to start walking and he did not take his eyes off him at any time, noticing that Mr. Salt was looking at you with the same interest.
If he was unhappy with something, he didn't say it, and he just left a gentle kiss on your head.
“See you in a bit, okay?” You nodded and pushed him just a little, inviting him to follow the businessman you had just spoken to. He got lost down the hallway and you returned to your tasks, not imagining the feeling that was bubbling in your partner's chest.
“That man is a complete idiot.”
You were surprised to hear the boy use those words and, above all, by the furious tone with which he had expressed himself. You interrupted your tasks of making dinner to pay attention to him.
“Who are you talking about?
“From Mr. Salt, of course! I didn't sign the contract with him. Don't even think about it, he's a… a complete nutcase”
"What are you talking about? What happened?" you asked, completely surprised by what he was telling you. You put everything aside to approach him and held his face to analyze his expression: it was extremely strange to see him this upset “Honey?”
“He was flirting with you! Don't think I didn't notice, when I left, he... he started talking to you that way. And not satisfied with that, he called you my assistant and then he hinted that he wanted a romance with you. He said punctually: I hope that, if I open this new branch, you will send your pretty assistant to help me with everything necessary” he was red with anger as he said that and he had to breathe for a moment to compose himself. "So I told him immediately that there was no deal if he dared to talk about my wife like that.”
There was too much to process at once. You felt disgusted at the idea that another man had shown interest in you, but at the same time you were surprised by how he had reacted. Willy wasn't a possessive husband, but right now you were feeling something strange about this side of him.
“You don't have to worry about that…”
“Of course I have to. You're beautiful and I'm sure everyone realizes that, but I won't let anyone look at you like he was looking at you. It is my job to protect you and that includes not entering into relationships with those who want to take advantage of you.”
He sounded sincere and passionate when he spoke, convincing you that he was very serious about the matter. Contrary to what he expected, you smiled and cupped his cheeks again to kiss him on the lips. He melted at the touch, you knew it by the way his shoulders completely relaxed and his hands came up to hold your elbows during the seconds you were kissing him.
Once he was more relaxed, you spoke.
“It's all right, love. Can you calm down?” you asked him. Your hand began to gently caress his cheeks and your eyes looked pleading, something he couldn't resist. “You shouldn't have wasted such an opportunity, but... I appreciate that you rejected it. For me"
“I would do anything for you,” he said immediately. Suddenly he felt the urge to kiss you again and he did, deeply and lovingly. You didn't resist.
“You're my only boy, you know that? No one in the world could take me from your arms”
“That's not my fear, I know that nothing can separate us” he assured you, smiling from ear to ear. That's how sure he was about yours, that agreed with the pair of rings on your fingers “Besides, there will be more opportunities, you don't have to feel guilty about anything.”
“I don’t,” you exclaimed, to reassure him. You knew he had done the right thing and you loved him for it “Are you hungry? I'm making you something for dinner” you confessed and then he nodded.
He could smell what you were cooking and when you reached out to stir the contents of the saucepan with a stick, he hugged you from behind, starting to talk about something more trivial than that failed business and feeling clearly relaxed, now that he knew he was and he would always be the only owner of your heart.
#wonka 2023#willy wonka x reader#wonka x reader#wonka movie#timothee chalamet#timothee chalamet x reader#timothee x reader#willy wonka#roald dahl#wonka fanfic#willy wonka 2023#wonka fanfiction#wonka x fem reader
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☆♡ JUNGKOOK FIC RECS ♡☆
this is a list of my favorite jungkook fics! most of these contain smut so no minors allowed. please show your love to all these amazing authors :) !!
a - angst f - fluff s - smut
SERIES
Birds by @missbickerbocker a f s strangers to lovers au (Doctor!Jungkook x TravelBlogger!Reader)
Summary - In Jungkook's world stability is key. He knows what exactly is expected of him as head doctor of Seoul's ER Unit. But when an unfortunate collision lands him at your bedside in his own ER unit, his stable world starts to shift. — the angst, the sexual tension, everything about this is just perfect!! doctor jk 😭🙌🏻
Gradation by @shina913 a f s bestfriend to lovers au fwb slow burn (Bestfriend!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - On your wedding day your fiancé leaves you at the altar. While reeling from embarrassment and heartbreak, your bestfriend, Jungkook, wants to do everything that he can to help you heal. — i remember coming back to this fic again and again because the entire storyline in itself was so comforting, everyone around oc was so caring and jungkook especially made my heart burst in this one!
Friday nights and takeout by @ahundredtimesover a f s strangers to friends to lovers (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the café, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he — i love love love cute happy endings. there was a lot of scolding eachother but their dynamic itself was just endearing 🤧💖 @ahundredtimesover 's other works are also wonderful! you won't be disappointed checking them out!
Lost Stars by @yoongiofmine a f s strangers to friends to lovers au slow burn (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. — i read this in one sitting because it was so interesting! the twists in this story kept me engaged, i felt like i was in a movie.
Coquet by @shina913 a f s fake dating au strangers to lovers (Escort!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous. — another one by @shina913 because i can't get enough of their writing! the angst, fluff, smut everything was balanced so well. top notch literally. sexy escort jungkook made me get on my knees no joke 🙌🏻🤧
Once You Realize by @kooala a f s friends to lovers idol au (Idol!Jungkook x Idol!Reader)
Summary - Seeing your friend regularly turned out to be difficult because of your colliding schedules, but seeing him again after a couple of months something about the way you thought about Jungkook seemed to have shifted. If only you wouldn’t have started getting close with someone else before you had realized how you felt about your best friend — this indeed is the cutest falling in love story! it's a slowburn but not overwhelming. sjdhjsjs it's just adorable 🥲
ONESHOTS
In which drabble series by @onlyswan a f s established relationship au (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - this is the cutest collection drabbles of boyfriend jungkook!! i recommend all of the installments, the writing is perfect, it's packed with perfectly illustrated details and vivid emotions and you can feel the love radiate from them 🥹 Art is by far my favorite writer on here 🙌🏻 these are a few of my personal favs from the installments -
in which jungkook comes home drunk but bam can’t speak f wc: 2.6k
— no because drunk jk is a menace and we all know it. this was so chaotic and fluffy it made me want to scream!!!
in which jungkook stumbles with his new pair of eyes f wc: 2.8k
— jungkook with glasses. my weakness. but this was so cute and fluffy! it's his little journey figuring out how to handle his glasses with oc!
in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give a f s wc: 8.3k
— this is actually a angsty one but it shows their ups and downs as a couple and gives more insight into their relationship!
The Boy with Galaxies in his Eyes by @oddinary4bts a f s wc: 52.9k strangers to fwb to lovers au (Idol!Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader)
Summary - you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours? — this has a LOT of angst, i won't lie i cried a few times reading this too. the character growth in this was just so phenomenonal. i go back a lot to this and read it again and again just to re-live the story. and ofc the smut is an amazing add on toooo 😭🙌🏻
My babysitters a quarterback by @ohpretty-baby a f wc: 30k enemies to lovers high-school au (Quarterback/Babysitter!Jungkook x Cheerleader!Reader)
Summary - after getting cheated on by the star of the hockey team, park jimin, your life (as expected) goes downhill. what you don’t expect is your parents being skeptical of whether or not you’re a good older sibling for your sister. you also don’t expect them to call jeon jungkook—the person you hate most—to babysit the two of you.
or, alternatively: jungkook babysits you even though the two of you are the same age. — i love this so much oh my goshhhhh this is one of the fics which will make you laugh and cry at the same time. it's fluffy and their dynamic is absolutely adorable. it's sooooo beautifully written!! :))
Spring will come again by @baepsaesbae a f s wc: 10.9k strangers to lovers au (Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!Reader)
Summary - Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever? — everything in this just feels so warm and comforting and jk is so sweet and so precious in here. there's angst but a very cute happy ending. the writing was so well done and so well articulated!! <333
Safety Net by @pradaksj (TWO-SHOT) a f s enemies to friends to lovers roommates au (Boxer!Jungkook x Reader)
Summary - On new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together. — this is one of my favorite fics ever. it's hilarious and emotional at the same time. both are literally the definition of dumb and dumber 😭 @pradaksj did a lovely job at illustrating their relationship progression. boxer jk just has my entire heart 😵💫🙌🏻
Be-Ghoul-Ment by @dokyeomin f wc: 10.1k idiots to lovers university au (Blonde!Jungkook × Reader)
Summary - [beguilement (noun): an entertainment that provokes pleased interest and distracts you from worries and vexations] --- You hate haunted houses more than you’ve ever hated anything. You don’t understand the appeal. But this Halloween, you decide you might hate Kim Taehyung even more. — the cutest fic ever! jk and oc both being a nervous wreck in this was so relatable 😭, and I loved the side friendships with Taehyung and Hobi. It was so sweetly crafted and left me feeling happy inside.
#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook drabble#jungkook imagine#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#tattoo artist jungkook#jungkook exes to lovers#jungkook fics#jungkook fic recs#fic rec#bts fic#bts#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#bts fanfction#bts fluff#jungkook scenario#jungkook one shot
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Just Say It Already
Summary: fem!reader x Gojo // Satoru is an ass, but he's your ass. He just loves getting under your skin - especially with the way he's been calling you his girlfriend for years. But guess what? You're so in denial about it.
Warning: 18+, NSFW, smut, flirty, the Gojo rizz, so much sexual tension going on but I live for that, friends to lovers, unprotected sex, swearing, it's complicated, slow burn, mutual pining
Note: Oh my god. I told myself to stop writing for more fandoms, but look what happened. Foaming at the mouth for my insane love of this man. Some minor spoilers if not caught up to season 2?
✦ Word count is 7.7k. Thanks for bearing with me and reading! I just really love long stuff! ✦
Quietly, you spoke to Nanami as you recapped the details of your last mission with him and training Itadori. Nanami nodded here and there, looking focused, listening attentively and appearing as cool as ever. As you two conversed, you both didn't even realize a certain someone passing by on his way out of the meeting room. A small hum left Gojo's lips, and he paused at the doorway. As if to get a better view, his hand pulled the blindfold upward from his face to reveal a singular blue eye whilst adorning a smirk so wicked that it only meant one thing: Gojo was up to no good.
"Trying to steal my girlfriend away from me, hm?"
And the conversation instantly ended. Nanami hissed through his teeth. You twitched in anger, an apparent frown pulling your lips downward. In synch, you both turned to the white-haired man with the cheshire grin as he cocked his head to the side. That sapphire eye fluttered to meet your gaze. Another moment, and Gojo returned the blindfold to where it once was before resting his hands in his pockets. It was painfully obvious he was savoring this.
"Satoru! How many times do I gotta say it!? I'm not your girlfriend!"
You whipped around to face him, taking an index finger and poking him repeatedly in the chest. He only laughed in response. You whined and sped up the poking at his cheerful display, trying to hide your obvious chagrin somehow with this. You fought and fought so hard to stop the growing heat to your face, but your fluster was so evident to Gojo himself that you knew he would just tease you more.
As if he didn't do it enough already!
It was so difficult to try and not be flustered, but ugh. Gojo was so good at unraveling you at the seams no matter how many times you were accustomed to this… wooing, one guessed it could be called.
"Not my girlfriend yet!" he purred, cocky as ever. He grabbed your hand to rest on his chest, and you fumed even further when he took a step forward. When he loomed over you like that, it was so easy to forget how freaking tall he was. He seemed so big no matter what height you were. You immediately pulled your hand from his.
"Not your girlfriend ever! Stop saying that! People will get the wrong idea!"
"Oh, but I want them to get the wrong idea."
The blindfold was slid upward on his forehead again, held there by a thumb, just to make sure his sultry expression was visible. He peered at you with heavily lidded eyes and a smirk so coy that it -
Well, it just -
It just made your heart race. Made you melt. Made your mind spiral.
Once more, the rising heat against your cheeks blossomed anew.
Gojo had been doing this shit since the dawn of time. Ever since long ago, way back into your youth. You were students at the time, and you had been flirting with another student from the Kyoto school during the exchange event. Like a typical silly high schooler, you just wanted to go on a date. All of a sudden, Gojo came flying in and kicked the guy square in the face - knocking him out cold on the spot. When you frantically screamed out of confusion, Gojo responded with a cheeky smile.
"What? This guy's trash."
Another pause and he leered at the unconscious highschooler with a sort of dark gaze.
"Lay off my girlfriend."
Ever since then, your sweet Gojo interrupted your love life - continuing these daring exploits well into adulthood. It seemed he lived for the sole sake of pushing your buttons. Pushing your buttons and making sure you were miserable.
And single.
Forever.
One time, you both were walking together to a work meeting across campus - now that you both were teachers. You were engaged in a very flirty phone call with a boyfriend. Gojo swiped the phone from your hand, earning him a gasp. Answering a phone call with Gojo right next to you was a big mistake, and you clearly should have known better. You pathetically hopped next to his tall, lean frame to try grabbing the phone (as he stretched out one arm to comically hold you back).
"Oh, hey - yeah. Look, we are very busy right now," Gojo would emphasize provactively, "so don't call back." As Gojo pulled the phone from his ear, you heard screaming from the other end before Gojo promptly hung up. That's when you knew you had another ex.
There was even a time when Gojo had invited himself over (unannounced as usual) while you ran around your apartment wrapped in a towel to get ready for a date. It was with a shy guy you had been out with a handful of times. But when said date finally showed up to the door? Gojo answered it with a frown. Oh, your date was shocked to say the least: trembling, scared, a fumbling mess as he clutched a bouquet of flowers to his chest. His jaw dropped upon seeing Gojo - a way more attractive, beautiful, model-like man who for some reason was there. Gojo took only one look at the guy, just one look and -
"Oh, god, no."
And slammed the door right in his poor face. Gojo turned toward you, smirking as always, as your jaw dropped in turn. He gave you a deliciously teasing smirk. You couldn't believe Gojo would be so daring! You went to the bathroom for one second, and this happened? That guy you were seeing wasn't actually bad (well, maybe he was kind of a square, didn't like anything you did, a bad kisser… but still).
Why? Why? Why was Gojo doing this!? He made you so freaking mad!
Satoru Gojo was so arrogant, so infuriating, so unbearable! Not to mention, he was so…
So…
He was so…
So damn hot.
Fuck.
Let's face it - the man was walking sex.
Whatever spell Gojo put you under, you hoped it would last an eternity. Because loving him was so natural. Sure you got mad at him, but maybe - just maybe the way he wanted you all to himself was kind of attractive. Just a little. When he walked in the room, butterflies took flight in your stomach. When he smiled at you, you restrained from grabbing his face to smooch those glossy lips. The way he put his hand so casually on your knee while talking during a meeting would send you over the edge.
No one ever looked at you like Gojo did. No one ever made you feel like Gojo did. Man didn't even need to try and you were a hot mess.
And those guys mentioned before? They were trash, just like Gojo said. There were lots of failed relationships. Because one cheated on you, one stood you up, one borrowed your car and crashed it - and yet you kept dating losers? Now somehow Gojo was able to tell who would hurt you from the beginning. So he put up these ridiculous defenses to protect you.
Speaking of ridiculous, it even reminded you of how you broke up with someone once. They complained that you spent too much time with Gojo and needed to stop being his friend. Nothing had ever made you angrier than that. No way would you ever push Satoru Gojo out of your life.
Despite the failed relationships, there were some good times, but only because of Gojo. One time, Gojo appeared at your door with snacks and a movie. Upon seeing your puffy, red eyes fresh from crying after being dumped - Gojo immediately dropped everything and was off to kick the guy's ass.
Satoru Gojo really, truly cared about you. Even if people thought he cared about nothing but himself - well, they were just stupid. They didn't understand how loneliness accompanied great strength. Nobody understood him like you did.
There was nothing wrong with Gojo. You didn't hate him, and he certainly knew that too. Because the two of you knew each other for forever, and you were quite smitten. Quite comfortable in snuggling on the couch after a bad break up, quite comfortable with his head on your lap and talking into the early hours of the morning. Never kissed, never groped, never pushed any boundaries… and yet you ran back to him as if he were always your lover. And he to you, through all his casual dates as well. Dates that always made you seethe with jealousy.
Gojo was close to your heart, but he definitely got on your nerves! He was conceited, a jokester, always did whatever he wanted - but this flirting game was so confusing. With the way Gojo acted, it was just… was he serious about liking you like that or was he really just poking fun at you after all these years? And that's what drove you mad the most.
Or maybe what drove you mad the most was the way you kept trying to push him away. Maybe you were pretending to be mad at Gojo about all of this girlfriend nonsense, to find something that could be your excuse to not date him. Because you feared losing him in this mad jujutsu world, just like how you lost your friends Haibara and Geto long ago. Everything was so difficult even though your heart swelled at the way Gojo seemed to want you so much. What if you got in a relationship with Gojo and it ended badly? Heartbreak from Gojo would be awful, but heartbreak from others? That was easy. Why were you in these awful relationships and never putting effort into them?
Whatever the reason was, it was all so stupid. It was obvious you were acting absurd. But if Gojo could just be more clear instead of leaving you to writhe in whatever frustrated state this was - yes, that would be great. Or maybe if you could stop acting this way, this nonsensical way, that would also be great.
"You know I'm just talking work business with Nanami. No one's stealing me from you."
You scoffed and crossed your arms, cheeks still hot, as you turned away from the tall man. Hopefully, the sarcasm got across. Nanami was long gone by now since he was always annoyed by Gojo's persistent little attempts to drive you wild. A chuckle and Gojo stepped forward to press his chest into your back, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as his lips lowered to it.
"Aw, come on, baby. You know I'm the jealous type."
After a pause, he blew a puff of air into your ear rather hotly. You jumped out of your skin and squealed. Goosebumps erupted on your neck, and you clutched your chest as Gojo grinned widely. Damn him for being such a tease. After a moment of gaining composure (and catching your breath), you smirked impishly.
Because you were so bad. You stroked his ego only further than he did to himself. In fact, anyone could clearly see you egged each other on way too much. Many times, people had called you both out on it - insisted you two just needed to get a room already.
"Why, Satoru!" you batted your lashes dramatically, resting the back of your hand to your forehead, "No man could ever sweep me off my feet when I have you - the strongest. No one could ever compare. They should be jealous of you."
A pause. Gojo smiled as he pulled back in an amused manner.
"See? This is why we're perfect for each other. You get me."
Know what else could never compare? The audacity. The audacity this man had was second to none.
You snorted out a laugh, "Please! No need to feel so threatened."
"Oh, I assure you I'm not. Dumbasses who think they actually have a chance with you?" he paused to chuckle, "Just putting them in their place. No one's good enough for you. Only the best."
As you reached for your coat resting on a chair, you stopped. Quickly, you turned to Gojo to try reading his expression, but the blindfold was back to covering his eyes. His plump lips were upturned into an innocent, closed-mouth smile - a genuine smile over one of those carefree smirks. He leaned against the wall, hands in pockets again, waiting patiently.
Only the best.
A fiery heat fluttered over your cheeks. Huh, well he certainly believed he was the best, so was he referring to himself when he said you deserved the best? He took your breath away. He was sweet when it mattered most. He was arrogant but had a heart. Despite others overlooking this, only seeing Gojo as one thing - the strongest - you knew otherwise. For many years, you always thought you weren't perfect enough to be with the strongest. You worried about living in Gojo's shadow, of unwarranted expectations from others, of him judging you for not being like him… but those feelings were silly. Even though they still fizzled in the back of your brain. Moreover, Gojo never did think less of you. So after another moment of reflection, you mirrored his soft smile.
"Do you really mean that?"
"I don't lie to you."
A small chuckle.
"Satoru, you… you're so sweet, you know that?"
"I know! The sweetest, right? Quality boyfriend material!"
His pink cheeks and goofy grin were adorable, his hands splayed out into the air in emphasis of his quality. In a failed attempt to look mad, you stifled a laugh. Gojo got you once again with his bravado. He was amazing. The way his tone brightened up and became chipper. The way he was so serious one minute and so silly the next.
For a split second, you wondered why your mouth just moved on its own.
You placed your hands on your hips as you gave him a lidded gaze, "Careful, Satoru! I just might fall for you."
Gojo sang back, "That's the plan!"
No hesitation whatsoever. Too bad he didn't know you fell years ago. Unless if he did know then you were just his plaything again, but you were more than happy to be his personal toy. More than happy to be used and teased by Satoru Gojo. Whatever he wanted. Why keep doing this to yourself though? Ignoring the rising anxiety, you draped your coat over your arm and turned to him.
"You know what would make me fall even more? Being spoiled. Let's go grab a drink, yeah? You pay this time!"
A grin as you walked up to the man, slinging an arm around his waist.
"Whaaat? Come on!"
He said facetiously, also with a smile, only to rest a lean arm around your shoulders as you laughed. And so began another trip to the bar between a couple of old friends after a terribly boring work meeting.
More like a couple of fools, cackling down the sidewalk, arms around each other - acting as if they were already drunk. A couple of fools, sitting on an empty train car as the sun set - your arms wrapped possesively around Gojo's and your head leaning against his shoulder. Faces so close you could feel each other's breaths between all the jokes, the snickers, the whispers, the attempts at flirting but you shooting him down. A couple of fools, you whining when Gojo's mouth pressed close to the sensitive skin at your neck, nearly nipping you. A couple of fools, with you smacking his hand away when it rose too comfortably inward on your thigh.
A couple of fools indeed.
Since it was a weekday, the bar was pretty empty. The lights were low, and Gojo grabbed his drink only to cause the ice to clink gently when raised to his mouth. He took a sip, then set it down. He was never really a drinker, but once in a while he indulged. His crystal blue eyes darted over to meet your gaze. You rested your head in your hand and released a heavenly sigh.
He looked damn good. White collared shirt with the first few buttons undone, part of his collar bone peeking out, dark sunglasses perched so prettily atop his nose. His niveous hair flowed and framed his perfect face like a work of art.
He really was so gorgeous. Beauty so effortless.
His gaze turned lusty as he noticed you staring.
"Like what you see?"
Lay off my girlfriend.
Gojo's lips curled into a delicious smirk at the memory of the first time he called you his precious girlfriend. Honestly, he just did it out of boredom and wanted to see how angry you would get. Oh, and he was right about one thing.
It was so funny.
So he kept it up. Even when you went to college and took a hiatus from jujutsu. Even when he hung out with you between classes. Even when you came back. When you stood in your new teaching uniform at the gate to the school grounds, Gojo called out.
"Oh, did you miss me that much that you came crawling back? Well, I forgive you because… you're my girl. My one and only."
The wind blew, and you turned to him with the most astonished expression ever. The way he said that… he spoke so lovingly. Gojo tilted his head. How could you look so speechless when he had been calling you his for years? Amazing. A pause, and a tender look in your misty eyes formed. A tiny smile appeared, but you bit your lip to stop it from growing. Gojo's breath caught in his chest. He had never seen that look before. He thought you were going to get mad for certain.
"Come on, you big baby. We talk all the time! But if you must know, I did miss working with you… my Satoru. You never change."
A moment more, and Gojo realized -
Damn.
My Satoru.
He could have been brought to his knees. The way you looked melted his heart. The way your lips were glossed and eyes shined. The new hairstyle. The way your body formed new curvatures that were pleasing to his eyes. The way your face matured with the smallest of wrinkles now slightly forming as you began to approach your thirties. He knew it must have been from crinkling your face while laughing at his jokes all these years. He had never seen anything so sexy.
He did take a risk by calling you something different today, and he was so glad. Girlfriend never sounded crazy to him. It was the only thing he could say without freaking you out too much - to let you know how he felt. There was a problem though. It sounded so informal.
He wanted more than that.
Gojo always liked you. It was always more than a little crush. If you had asked, he would have told you how he felt without hesitation… but it never happened. Would you be all right with loving the strongest? Would that lead to high expectations of him being the perfect boyfriend? Huh. Gojo didn't give it much thought. Not that he was worried. Why was everything so hard? It didn't have to be, but you were both acting like children. Just because Satoru Gojo was the strongest did not mean he had everything. He did not have you. One of his best friends. The one that stayed.
He didn't mind waiting for you.
The look you gave him was so loving. And the way your eyes softened at him? Ugh, he couldn't take it. You never gave that look to anybody but Gojo. Nobody ever smiled at him like you did. Nobody ever wrapped their arms around him like you did. The way your mood brightened up when he walked in the room always sent him over the edge.
God, if only.
If only he could show you how much he loved you. If only you could scrunch up that pretty face while lying underneath him. Moaning with pleasure, eyes rolling back, crying out -
"Satoru!"
You whined, slapping your hands on the bar top. A chorus of glass shaking caused Gojo to blink and turn back to you, a slight blush on his face.
That was enough to snap you both out of lechorous daydreams. It was clear as day Gojo caught your dreamy gaze since you were so stupidly swirling the straw in your drink while biting your bottom lip a second ago. Gojo hummed playfully, his brows furrowing inward as he looked around for a second.
He raised his arm in the air to call the bartender, exclaiming that his girlfriend needed another drink to which you slapped his hand down. Oh, how he loved to embarass you as punishment. The moment you walked in that bar, Gojo went off. Really loudly, he drawled out the most shameful things. Oh, how sexy his girlfriend looked today. Oh, how thirsty his girlfriend was, and oh, how good of a boyfriend he was for taking his sweet girlfriend out.
He asked if you wanted another drink. You shook your head, murmuring that you were done for the day - just off to use the restroom before leaving. As usual, you insisted he could go on home without you, but he never took up the offer. Never wanted to go unless you were leaving with him. Now that you thought about it, that sounded very implicative. So with a wave of your hand to brush off your fluster, you told Gojo you'd be back in a minute.
Apparently, a lot can happen in one minute.
Because when you returned, some chick was seated next to Gojo. She had an obnoxious laugh, an incredibly ugly outfit, and Gojo looked utterly bored as he stared straight ahead at the wall of liquor behind the bar.
Your brows furrowed in disgust. She was trying to flirt, to get his number, or something. More importantly, this bitch needed to know that Gojo was here with you. This was when you hoped (oh god, for once you were admitting it) he would just simply state that he had… a girlfriend. Gojo never got the chance because you never left room for one. In a fit of rage, your body just moved on its own and flew over there. Gojo and the woman both looked up at you once your hand slammed on the bar.
"Get your hands off my -"
But you froze.
Your what?
"My…"
Your voice trembled. The expression in Gojo's eyes was so clearly readable when a smirk curled upon his lips. Because he sure as hell knew what was happening. You could practically read his mercilessly toying thoughts.
Hm? Just say it already.
That's exactly what he would say outloud! If he wanted. And he could, but alas he loved to torture you more. You could already imagine his velvety voice coming from those pretty, pretty lips of his.
You know you want to.
"My…"
Stop lying to yourself.
"My boyfriend!"
Gojo's mouth went into the surprised shape of an o, then a toothy grin. The woman's eyes widened in bewilderment. Immediately, she threw her hands up and backed away slowly. The expression on your face was indescribable. You glared as if she were a dumbstruck animal that just accidentally walked right into a wolf's den (with you being the wolf of course). You lividly watched her, making sure her ass scooted so far out of the bar that she was completely out of sight.
As soon as that woman was gone, you let out a sigh and your body relaxed. Fists unballed from your sides, and feeling those gorgeous blue eyes boring into your soul, you froze. Gojo was still there. So nervously, you blinked at him with a forced smile, but no amount of explanation could make this normal. No amount of excuses could get him to think otherwise. Especially from a tease like him who just heard the greatest slip-up of all time that revealed everything he wanted to hear but already knew deep down in his heart.
Gojo's sapphire eyes slowly drooped at you, the dark sunglasses slipping from his nose. The look he gave was absolutely sexy. He blinked once before his lips turned into a raunchy smirk.
"Your boyfriend, huh?"
That look, that dangerous yet lustful look in his eyes made your heart race. No matter what signals your brain fired to your body, you could not move. The first thought was: oh no, was this a mistake? The second was waiting for an onslaught of merciless jokes and teasing. But the latter never appeared. Carefully, you watched Gojo move smoothly as he took his chin from his hand, uncrossed his legs, and stood up.
"You wanna get outta here?"
He leaned his forehead to touch yours as his voice lowered to a whisper. It took every single ounce of willpower to stop yourself from pouncing him, from melting into a gooey, lovesick puddle on the floor. Gojo's breath fanned across your lips, and you whimpered at the sensation. Cheeks burning hot, you clutched your hands to your chest as Gojo chuckled before licking his lips. Eyes glued to his beautiful blue orbs. Your voice was barely a squeak, barely a whisper.
"Yes. Yes, I do. So badly."
With a hum, he just simply grabbed his coat.
"Turn around."
Gojo mused, and the smirk never left his face. On command, you immediately turned on your heel. Gojo gently draped his large coat over your shoulders. With his other free arm, he just gabbed your purse and coat to fold it over his arm. For some reason, your face was on fire at the gesture. Your mind was reeling.
"Then let's go, sweetheart. Can't keep you waiting any longer now, can I?"
An arm slung around your shoulders, Gojo's head tipped high into the air proudly as he led you out of the bar.
It was only an instant.
A blink of your eyes, and suddenly you were both in your apartment living room. Knowing Gojo as long as you have, teleportation antics were quite normal to deal with by now.
A pause.
You and Gojo just stared at each other. It was obvious your face was heated in a fluster, and cutely enough, there was a pink hue to his cheeks. Neither of you moved for a few seconds. Neither of you bothered to turn on the lights. His pale face was illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the windows.
Then Gojo moved. He dropped your things to the floor and when his knuckles brushed against your jaw, thumb tucked under your chin as he leaned in -
It was over.
Your eyes fluttered shut, heartbeat thundered, lips parted as you let out a breathless sigh. Eagerly, you tipped your head upward to meet him.
Satoru Gojo's mouth touched yours.
The softest, most gentle kiss you had ever received. His lips were soft, plump - everything you imagined and more. They were warm. They were angelic. It was enough to make you question whether you were in heaven right now. A simple, soft kiss that lasted for a few seconds, and Gojo pulled away. When his lips released yours, he smirked because you had let out the tiniest moan.
With a slight nervous laugh, you both leaned in again to repeat that same soft kiss. This time, the white-haired seraph gently held your face in his hands, and you moved your arms so quickly to rest against his chest that the jacket slipped from your shoulders to join the rest of the belongings on the floor. Your lips moved slowly, smacking against his own once, twice, three times before he dipped his tongue past your lips - and you were losing it. If he said so, you would have dropped your panties then and there. When you pulled away for a breath, you both grinned sheepishly.
That low chuckle, that smirk upon his face when he brushed his thumbs over your cheeks. If only your mouth could make words, but he took your breath away.
"Took you long enough."
There it was. The comment you were bracing yourself for. When your throat tightened and you gripped at his shirt sleeves as he was about to turn away, Gojo stopped. He blinked in perplexion, about to ask why you clung to him, when his heart dropped. Your eyes watered and eyebrows furrowed.
"Oh my god… you're - you're crying. You're actually crying!" and Gojo settled his hands at your waist with the softest of touches.
Confusion was apparent in his blue eyes - you two had just shared a passionate kiss, and all of a sudden you were crying? Gojo was not one to panic, however, he really hoped this was not a terrible mistake and he had not hurt you in any way. When he led you to sit next to him on the couch, he did not ask any questions. He just waited. Waited until you were ready. There was a brief moment where Gojo had gracefully waltzed over to the bathroom, grabbed a tissue and handed it to you when he sat back down. Again, Satoru Gojo really was so sweet to you, and he placed a hand on your thigh.
"I'm just… so stupid!"
Oh.
He instantly knew what that was in reference to. Truth be told, he always knew how you felt about him, and you did too. He also knew you must have felt like an idiot for wasting all this time, for not just going after him earlier in life. To hell with all that. He couldn't care less.
"You're not stupid, babe."
"But I -"
A finger was pressed to your lips.
"Just shut up."
With a smile, he drew back his finger.
"Everything couldn't be more perfect."
With a hum, you tucked your chin down to stare at your hands folded in your lap. A tiny, gingerly smile graced your lips.
"Okay."
There was another pause as Gojo shuffled in his seat, bending downward to pick up all the dropped items on the floor. He placed them onto the coffee table with ease, then picked up his coat.
"I should go."
He firmly stood up and threw the coat over his shoulder. He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. With that loving gaze you always gave, the one he was such a fan of, you watched as he proudly strode over to the door. He wanted to give you some more time - was not about to start putting on the moves when you seemed a little upset. Especially on a work night, no less. When his hand settled on the doorknob, he whipped his head to you and smiled so widely that his eyes clamped shut.
"I'll call you tomorrow?"
Oh, too cute. The way he said that implied he was going to anyway but wanted to check first. You let out a small laugh. Surely, he did not forget you would see each other first thing in the morning at work, right? Tomorrow was the last day before summer break, after all.
"Satoru, we're going to -"
"Don't ruin it, babe!"
Another confident grin from him caused you to giggle. With a roll of your eyes, you grinned back.
"Yes! You can call me!"
"Great. Today was wonderful, by the way. Good night then."
"Good night."
There was another pause. No way you could just let him leave after all that.
"Satoru?"
Gojo's ears pricked at your tone. He turned to you. You jumped up from your seat and twiddled your fingers, hoping it would distract you from them trembling.
"I - I… will you stay over for the night?"
A red hue dusted over Gojo's cheeks as he blinked in amazement. A second to register what had been asked as your eyes away from his. For the umpteenth time that evening, that delectable smirk graced Gojo's plump lips.
"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you down?"
It started innocently enough.
Gojo was used to this. He asked you to grab extra blankets and pillows as you usually did when he stayed over. He was prepared to sleep on the couch, but something was a little different in the way you stared at him then. You tucked your chin downward.
"No, no…"
And he paused.
"You… you can sleep in my room with me."
He froze again with a red hue so gorgeously plastered across his cheeks. There was a silence for some time, but another smirk from Gojo and he moved.
Gojo kicked his shoes off and leap-frogged over the couch to land next to you, grin and all. The impact caused you to bounce on the cushion, and in bashful fashion, you brought your hand to your mouth to stifle any giggles. When Gojo grabbed your thighs to pull your body closer, the giggles only increased as he peppered your face with kisses. Oh, it was supposed to be innocent. This relationship was still fresh. No need to rush, after all. Just throw on a movie and cuddle on the couch like you've done so much before. But then -
Gojo kissed your mouth.
So softly. So sweetly. So tenderly.
Then you kissed his.
With such ease, the white-haired man pulled you into his lap. His hands at your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle little circles. Your hands, holding his face as your lips pressed in perfect synch to each other. Those sweet, little kisses transformed into tonguing, and then that led to biting. Then it only became hotter when those kisses turned into sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and grunts and groans.
It didn't matter that a movie was never decided upon. In fact, why would you want to watch a movie when this was so much more fun? Hot and slow touches began to sneak under clothes, on areas of skin you didn't even know needed touches, areas that you could never fathom feeling so electric underneath his fingers.
"Oh my god… angel," Gojo breathed, "you keep up those pretty little noises, and I won't be able to control myself anymore."
"Then don't."
He pulled back for a second. Gently, you held his face in your hands while running your thumbs over his cheeks. He gave a cheesy smile.
"Ugh, will you marry me?"
A heat returned to your cheeks as you rolled your eyes at his teasing. A second more, and he pulled you back to him - clutching his arms around your form, nearly knocking you on your back as his mouth immediately went to your neck for little nips and kisses to it. He was so strong, and he was just tickling you endlessly as you laughed uncontrollably.
"Ah! Sa… Satoru!" you laughed wildly, trying to push him away, "Satoru, please!"
"Satoru, please."
Body thrown against the mattress, lips feverishly mashing and molding against each other's, so many delicious moans and groans and hums inbetween them all, and what sweet music to your ears. A growl, one that sent shivers down your spine, and Gojo pulled away for a split second to snatch your collared shirt from your shoulder before firmly planting his lips to your skin, giving a quick bite. Oh, it would definitely leave a bruise as you clenched at the sheets below you in desperation for support, or some form of relief. But how cute because that bruise would only match the other marks adorning your chest.
Gojo's lips moved expertly along your collar bone and settled on your neck, leaving hot and wet kisses against your skin. A tingly yet ignited feeling that left you yearning for more as you whined, being pushed into the bed further. The sensation of his warm saliva on your neck, leaving wet stamps of his lips and soft traces of his tongue, reduced you to a mewling mess. One of your hands clutched against Gojo's chest to ball the fabric of his shirt, and with the other free hand, running it along the satisfying undercut of his hair before gripping his white locks.
"You're mine." he breathed against your skin, "Mine, mine, mine."
"Yes… ah - all yours!" you panted as you ran a hand through his hair again. A whimper escaped your lips when his tongue slid up your neck, "Always have been, always will."
Yes. It was always this way. Your feelings were limitless.
There was no doubt in your mind. Should not have ever tried to ignore your heart especially when it raced upon seeing him every single day. Why in the world did you date such losers when you could have had…
Satoru.
Satoru, Satoru, Satoru.
"Yeah, that's right, sweetheart."
Breath caught in your chest at his angelic beauty. And before you could gasp, his lips were back to your neck. They left such needy kisses, such sloppy, yummy kisses. His touch was leaving you drunk as your eyelids drooped heavily. Your will was breaking, practically bursting at the seams. Just thinking how badly you needed his mouth everywhere else. But you didn't have time to tell him when you turned your head further and released a moan that had the man chuckling lowly in your ear. The smirk on his face only grew when his hips bucked into yours, and you gasped while drawing your trembling arms around him in attempts to steady yourself.
"Goj - oh!"
"Ah, ah, ah - Satoru." he corrected, and your legs could have turned to jelly right there at his seductive tone. Your entire body could have melted into a puddle. He could have said the least sexiest thing in the world like that, and you could still fall for him.
"How long have you known me? You gettin' shy on me?"
A whine left your lips when you realized you said his last name. You just couldn't think straight. One thing was obvious though. It was obvious from the start that Satoru Gojo was in charge especially with how sugary he spoke. Such a sweet tone. Such honey-kissed, nectar-like, addicting words that dripped from his lips just like you were dripping wet with arousal. Heart pounding, core throbbing.
"It's cute."
Gojo was here and all yours. You couldn't believe it. Especially when you opened your eyes to take in this irresistible scene. Gojo, sunglasses thrown off somewhere to reveal those sapphire eyes, with his white shirt unbuttoned to show off his toned chest heaving to catch his breath. His pants looked a little too tight, hardly hiding his hard-on beneath them. He hovered over you, hands on either side of your poor, dizzy, flushed head. Those sky blue eyes roamed over your nearly naked form - which was barely covered by undergarments, with one bra strap already straying from a shoulder.
"N-no, I'm not being shy."
"Look at you. You're just a mess right now, sweetheart." he grinned, lowering his mouth to breathe against your ear, "Haven't even done anything yet."
A brush of his fingers against the wet, clothed spot between your thighs made your hands clutch his chest on command. They glided up to rest on his shoulders, effortlessly slipping beneath the fabric to slide the shirt from his beautiful, marble-like form. For a second, he stood on his knees to finish slipping the shirt off before undoing his belt, letting the small clink ring in the air. Pants were unzipped, leaving them to hang precariously from his hips, and Gojo returned back to his beloved spot, pink lips hovering over your own. You pressed a finger to his mouth and he paused.
"Please, Satoru…" you whispered, "don't tease me. You always do."
Gojo planted a quick kiss to your fingertip before his tongue poked out to run along it, causing you to freeze in surprise. He opened his mouth to gently suck your finger in, massaging his tongue against it before releasing you with a pop of his mouth.
"Oh, but it's sooo fun. I live for it."
That was always obvious since forever ago. Ugh, that sexy drawl and that smirk to match it. He was amazing in every way. So, running your fingers against the undercut at his neck, you whispered.
"Need you bad, Satoru."
You grabbed a fistful of his white locks, leading his mouth to your own to repeat that hot make-out session from earlier on the couch. Lips completely locked, not even stopping at getting in the way of clothes flying off, not even in the way of bodies swiftly moving and hands grasping at skin. His hands roamed over your breasts, squeezing them - biting with his teeth, pinching nipples and leaving you a moaning mess. His hands roamed over your thighs, over your ass - no part left untouched, but always savored. Nothing stopped this limitless love, even when Gojo hooked an arm under your legs and tossed you effortlessly into position on the bed - your head landing perfectly on its pillow while Gojo bounced on the mattress above you, mouth against mouth again in a heated kiss, slipping out a groan between parted lips.
A raspy whisper, "You ready for me?"
And you bashfully nodded yes, smiles and all as your sweet Gojo - the strongest, the most insufferable, but the most loving - positioned himself so that his pretty cock slid between your slick folds. A gasp escaped your lips when he groaned from how deep it went. Another gasp, followed by your soft moans when he started thrusting, giving that good friction and allowing your walls to tighten and suck him in further.
"Oh, fuck, sweetheart - fuck! So perfect."
"Sa… Satoru, fu - oh!"
A sharp intake of air once Gojo used a hand to greedily slide over the plushness of your thigh. He moved it ever so slightly, pulling it up a bit higher around his waist so that you both froze in place immediately, before letting out a pleasured groan in synch. The new angle which allowed him to go somehow deeper made your head spin.
Oh my gooood.
Your eyes clamped shut at the sensation, drool pooling at your mouth from how delicious Gojo's body was and when his lips drunkenly met yours, matching in swolleness. A little more speed, and you wrapped an arm around his neck as you just whined into his shoulder, clawing the skin at his back.
Oh my god oh my god oh my god more.
"Toru, fuck!"
Babbling his name over and over like a prayer. Curse words and moans spilling from both your mouths. Begging for Gojo to be faster, to be harder because god dammit you had waited too many years for this and he did too. Skin slapping on skin, sweat making your bodies stick together, and you could only grip onto him tighter as you were nearly screaming from the pleasure warming up your body.
"I love you, I love you, I fucking love you! Please, please, please, please, please!"
"Fuck, y-yeah… Love - love you too!"
And that tight coil in your lower half only got tighter and tighter, until -
It snapped. The pleasure igniting your body as you were filled with his seed. You thought you saw stars? Forget that. Gojo could have put you in his domain, and you would have thanked him. A quick kiss to your mouth, raking your fingers through his damp locks before he released you to finally breathe, to ride out this high with a few slow and lazy thrusts of his hips. Lazily, you blinked the tears from your eyes. How sexy Gojo looked in this moment - if that even meant anything because he always looked good. His pure white hair stuck to his forehead in cute, wavy tufts. The way his pale face was red and flushed at the cheeks, lips so swollen to complement this as he panted, sweat shining on his skin in the dull light of the bedroom. Eyes clamped shut to recover from his high, but feeling your gaze on him, he blinked once. Your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of his illuminated blue eyes looking at you with hunger, glowing if just for a split second before he blinked again and the glow was gone. Your face heated up again - no, you must have imagined it.
"So you love me?"
He purred, eyes drooping at your flushed out face. Seemed he caught you staring off into space again. He panted against your skin, bringing you back from the endless blue maze that were his eyes.
"I do." you purred back with a smirk.
Between all the pants, Gojo cupped a hand to your face. He leaned to give you a quick peck on the forehead, then grunted when he laid next to you. When he got comfortable, you shuffled over to lay your head on his chest and firmly grab his jaw - giving a small kiss as he groaned into it. You pulled back to stroke a white lock from his forehead as he watched you with those blue eyes of his.
He smirked - one that meant he was up to no good again.
"So glad to be here with my pretty wife."
A pause.
You gawked at him. Literally, your jaw dropped open. Naturally, Gojo adorned a very wide grin and he swiftly crossed his arms behind his head.
"Oho… wife now?"
"I know, I know!" he winked, "Can't help it."
"You're kidding."
"Come oooon, let's just get married."
"Satoru!"
"Oh, yeah, baby. Say my name again."
"SATORU."
If only.
If only you weren't further embarrassed when Gojo pressed his lips to yours in a kiss again. And if only you two hadn't kept going all night, you would have never accidentally overslept into the next day. You both fumbled to school to be late to a faculty meeting. Of course, all eyes were on you. Because the staff sure as hell knew what happened judging by the shaken appearances (and bites to your neck that you forgot to hide).
And, if only Gojo didn't make things worse.
"Sorry, all! Guess my wife and I got a little carried away last night! But what are you going to do when two young adults are in love, am I right?"
You had never seen everyone's eyes widen in synch before.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk fanfiction#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#mugi writes
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A Small Favor.
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part one!
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
summary: the stress of his new job is taking a toll on mike. he did such a good job helping you out, so you decide to repay the favor.
word count: 2.5k+
warnings: 18+! MDNI! oral sex (m!receiving), vaginal fingering, handjobs, heavy on the praise, munch!mike always.
authors note: the heavily heavily HEAVILY requested part two is finally done. (quite literally wrote this instead of listening to my bio lecture) i still can't believe that fic has gotten so much traction, i hope this one measures up! it got waaaay more angsty near the end than i thought it would hehe also i decided to include everyone commenting under part one requesting part two in the taglist of this fic so you're welcome lol mwah <3
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It had been one week and three days since the couch incident, which is what you’ve lovingly taken to calling whatever happened between you and Mike. One week and three whole days of Mike dancing around you and the elephant in the room.
The morning after the couch incident he practically ran out the door taking Abby to school when you tried to bring it up. The next time you attempted to have “the talk” he stuttered out an excuse before retreating to the safety of his bedroom, so you gave up.
You know that there’s something between Mike and you that crosses the line of just friends, you both felt something change that night, but getting him to face his feelings and actually admit that will take work.
It's another night of sitting on Mike's couch mulling over what to do about the whole situation when you hear the front door open. You're shocked at first, usually you're asleep by the time Mike gets home. Sure enough when you check the clock it reads 6:33 in bulky red characters. Apparently, time flies when you're obsessing over how to get your friend turned complicated-accidental-one-night-stand to admit they have feelings for you.
You try (and fail) not to listen in on every move Mike makes in the kitchen, fighting to keeping your gaze trained on the TV as he makes his way to the living room.
In your eyes peripheral vision you see him begin to make his way to the couch, but he hesitates when his eyes fall on you. He awkwardly hovers between the two rooms for a few seconds until he takes a breath and walks over to the couch.
Mike sits next to you on the couch with a soft grunt. You wrestle with the need to look at him fully, but you can see out of the corner of your eye he's taken off his work boots and vest. His hair is sticking out at weird angles, curls frizzy and unruly. Your hand twitches against your thigh with the want to run your fingers through them.
You can feel your heart beat faster, struggling to sit still in the thick tension surrounding the two of you. You flick your eyes back to the TV in a vain attempt to focus on anything other than Mike.
Eventually, you lose the fight with your screaming inner monologue and chance a sideways glace in his direction. You're beyond surprised to find him already looking at you.
You stare back, a deer caught in headlights. The dim light coming from the TV highlights his eyes. Mike opens his mouth to seemingly break the silence but he stops himself short of actually speaking. You can see him fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt.
It’s silent for a beat before you decide to speak up.
“Hi.” You say, it's a whisper but you might have well just yelled with how it cuts into the air between the two of you. Mike lets out what might be laugh, it sounds forced. "Hi." He replies stiffly.
"Home later than usual." You point out, fidgeting with your nail. Mike's home a little after 6: everyday, him being home 30 minutes late is odd.
Mike nods, he lets his head fall onto the back of the couch allowing his eyes to slip closed as he does. "Yeah," He replies, the position of his head allows you to get your greedy fill of his sharp jawline. "Jobs been hell."
You don't respond, but you know. Mike's been haggard recently, and not just because of the couch incident. The bags under his eyes have gotten worse, he's been forgetful, not to mention how much more neurotic and paranoid he's been.
Mike has been a wreck these past couple of days, and you want nothing more than to help him feel good. If not for just a few minutes.
You take a chance, and move to let your hand rest over his jean clad thigh. Mike tenses up immediately but doesn’t move to run or push your hand off.
"I could help you,” You say quietly, forcing yourself to keep eye contact. Mike's wide eyes flit rapidly between your eyes and lips. “Help you relax…” You trail off, voice barely above a whisper.
Your offer hangs heavy in the silence that settles. Mike just stares at you, after a while you start to regret making such a bold move. There’s an apology’s on the tip of your tongue, but when you start taking your hand off Mikes thigh he quickly grabs your wrist.
Your eyes snap back up to meet Mikes. His pupils are blown out, black encompassing warm brown. His tongue comes out to swipe across his bottom lip.
“You can...” Mike says simply, guiding your hand back to his thigh. Only he places it much higher up, high enough that you can feel the rough metal of his zipper brushing against the tip of your pinkie. "I need it." He breathes out desperately, eyes big and pleading. You allow yourself a second to just watch Mikes face before you start to move with a purpose.
You snake your hand lower, finding the already hard length of his cock through the rough material of his jeans. Mirroring what he did to you those ten days ago, you start to grind the heel of your hand against him.
Mike shudders, eyes fluttering shut at your touch. You can physically see tension slowly exit his body, leaving him slack and relaxed enough to sink deeper into the couch cushions.
The sight of him at ease and comfortable lights a fire in you. You feel a deep primal need to care for him, to make him feel good.
Patience wearing thin, you reach for the button of his jeans. Even in your arousal induced haste, you take a beat to appreciate the swell of Mike's cock pressing up against the denim. If this was any other time, you'd want to draw it out. To tease Mike until he can't take it anymore, but now is not any other time.
You pop the button to Mike's jeans, dragging the zipper down swiftly and pulling the flaps of his jeans open to frame his lewdly tented boxers. You can hear Mikes breath hitch, unable to keep from squirming under your intense gaze. The thin material leaves nothing to the imagination, the length and girth of him on display. There's a growing wet patch near the tip that's turned the light blue fabric dark and slick. An ache starts deep in your core, anticipation making you feel warm all over.
Slowly, you tug his boxers down enough for his cock to spring free and smack up against his stomach. "Ah! Shit," He hisses, hands balling up into fists by his sides.
Mike's dick is perfect. A nice length and girth you know will have your jaw aching in the best way later. The tip a soft pink color, and steadily leaking a stream of pre-come.
"I want to blow you," You say softly, getting close to Mike so your lips brush over his ear with every word. He shivers, mouth dropping open in a quiet moan. "Will you let me?"
Mike nods his head frantically. "Please," He pants, chest rising and falling quickly. "Please, I want it."
His begging is music to your ears.
You slide off the couch, kneeling between Mike's spread thighs. His straining cock makes your mouth water in anticipation. Holding the base in your hand, you lean forward to lick a board stripe from root to tip. Moaning at the heady taste and velvety feel of him on your tongue.
"God." Mike groans at the feel of your tongue.
You pull off with a slick pop, breaking a small thread of saliva trailing from the head of Mike's dick to your lips with your tongue. You lave over the tip, looking up to find Mike staring at you flushed and dark-eyed. You keep the eye contact as you sink back down, beginning to build up a rhythm.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Mike raise his hands before hesitating, and dropping them back down to the couch cushion. You can tell he wants to touch you, but he’s unsure of himself. You take his hands in yours, and place them on the top of your head.
At first he just sort of holds your head, overthinking what to do even with your permission. You’d laugh if you weren’t so busy preening over the feel of his unfairly big hands holding your head delicately, like he might break you.
“Fuck, your mouth…” Mike whispers, his words trailing off as he watches your lips work over his throbbing cock. His confidence grows, finally allowing himself to run his fingers through your hair and gather it in a loose fistful. Your moan of encouragement has him tightening his grip just a touch.
“Jesus,” Mike breathes quietly, you give him a lick underneath the head of his cock in response. "Fuck. Feels so good.”
You hum in response, working Mike's cock faster to draw out more of those whimpers that he can't hold in. Hollowing your cheeks and sinking down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slick slurping sounds.
Mike's noises have gotten progressively louder by the second, you can feel his pulse beating wildly against your tongue through the vein running up his cock. You know he's close, and you're desperate to make him come.
You give him one long languid suck, swirling your tongue over the head as you pull off. His cock is slick with your spit, pulsing warningly. You use the wetness of your saliva as a makeshift lube to start stroking over him slowly.
"How's it feel, Mike?" You purr sensually,
When you sink back down, you don't break eye contact. Mike's eyes roll back into his head, the way his lips part on a sharp gasp, how his back arches off the couch, how his fist tightens even more around your hair.
Above you, Mike grunts, "Oh fuck, baby," His back arches, a rough gasp torn from his throat. The hand in your hair tugs sharply as he chokes out, "Gonna come, shit, gonna fucking come."
Mike shouts hoarsely, hips stuttering as he starts to come. His cock gives one final twitch in your mouth before he pumps load after load of warm come into your mouth. You moan loudly at the taste of his release coating your taste buds, swallowing what pools on your tongue routinely.
You continue to work your mouth over his cock, bringing Mike through the aftershocks of his orgasm, reveling in the broken sounds he keeps making. You lave your tongue over him savoring the taste of him, until he's tugging at your hair to pull you off his sensitive cock.
"C'mere, c'mere." He whines desperately. You’ve barely come up for air before Mike is bodily dragging you into his lap and kissing you like he needs it more than air.
His hand darts down your body and into your sweats. Mike moans in your mouth at the feel of your lacy panties absolutely soaked with your arousal. He wastes no time in finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over it with his thumb drawing a loud moan from your lips.
"Shit," You exclaim, nails digging into Mike's forearm. Your hips buck up into his touch, chasing his touch. "Mike..." You whine, needing him to do more.
"You drive me fucking crazy," He whispers roughly against the side of your face, sliding his pointer finger through the slick wetness of your folds. "I can't stop thinking about you."
“Oh god, Mike.” His fingers feel amazing, rubbing you in all the right places, his words lighting a fire in your stomach.
Mike gathers your wetness before pushing his thick middle finger in your tight heat. Your own moan gets drowned out by his guttural groan at the feeling of you clenching down on his finger.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He moans, thrusting his finger in and out of your aching pussy slowly. "You're so perfect, so perfect for me." Mikes lips trail kisses down your jaw as he adds a second finger into your dripping pussy, brushing against the spot inside you that sends white hot sparks of pleasure zinging up your spine.
"How's that feel?" He asks roughly, throwing your earlier teasing back in your face. You moan wantonly, hips moving grinding down as you ride his fingers in earnest.
Mike angles his hand in a way that lets his fingers thrust into you, hitting your g-spot all while the palm of his hand grinds into your clit
“I’m gonna come, Mike,” You whine desperately, hips stuttering as you tip over the edge. “I’m coming.”
"Yes, come for me." Mike whispers, lips brushing over your cheek.
Your chest heaves as you come down from your orgasm, collapsing against Mikes chest. You're an absolute mess, thighs shaking and sweat dripping down your back. A hiss escapes your mouth as Mike eases his fingers out of your twitching pussy. "Sorry." He whispers softly, kissing the top of your head tenderly.
You allow yourself to lay on his chest with his strong arms around your waist, keeping you close. So close you can feel his warm breath puffing out against your neck.
You don't want to let it, but reality sets in. "Are you gonna run away in the morning?" Your voice is so quiet you don't know if Mike even heard, and you can't force yourself to look up at him.
It takes him a second to register your words, you don't have to look at him to know he's wincing. "I," Mike starts, trying to find the right words. "I don't know." He admits, lips brushing against your hair.
The anger mixed with shame and embarrassment is quick to come, you scoff pushing off Mike's chest so you can go home. "Of course." You spit bitterly.
"Wait!" He rushes out, arms tightening on your waist to stop you leaving.
"What?" You bite out bitterly, whipping your head around to stare daggers at Mike. It backfires on you almost immediately, forcing you to stare into his big sad dumb eyes. He falters, mouth opening and closing as he fumbles to say anything.
You can't help that the look in his eyes tames your anger ever so slightly. The way he's silently pleading with you to stay, his brows drawn in concern and lips pulled down in a frown. Your steely resolve crumbles pathetically.
"What?" You repeat quietly. Mike flounders for a second more, before he finally gives in. "Please stay." He exhales softly, hands planting themselves on your hips, giving them a light squeeze..
Maybe it's your shitty resolve, maybe it's the post orgasm afterglow clouding your judgement, maybe it's the earnest look in Mike's eyes that keeps you from pushing out of his grip and out the door, but you just can't bring yourself to leave.
You stare back at him wrestling with your thoughts, but it's a losing game and you know that.
"Okay," You whisper slowly, settling yourself back down into his lap. "I'll stay."
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i could NOT figure out how to end this, but maybe i could do a part three? would literally anyone want that?
taglist!
@ebodebo @yuenity @mfdxz @mikeschmidtgf @lee-inthebox @sunny-deary @ncqari
extra taglist!
@ballorawan740 @slasherluvrrr @importantgalaxyrunaway @iwantsleepplz @theaterhoefornewsies
#natalia writes!#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words#part two#!!!#finally!!!#i hope you guys love it#hehe#it's very late#and i'm very tired#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt x you#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson smut#josh hutcherson x reader#smut#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf movie#fnaf smut
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i had this on top of my mind today
imagine ethan with a huge crush on y/n, having all these fantasies on her. once a week they would call each other for econ homework, but that day he's just too horny so he gets off to her voice. y/n is too oblivious, he would be palming himself through his pants. his breath becomes a little too loud and she kind of guess what's happening and takes advantage of it to tease him/make him embarrassed.
this makes me feel things
a little help — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : ethan can’t help but get off to your sweet voice.
male jerking off. teasing. innuendos. ethan has fantasies. wc 2.0k
Ethan felt slightly embarrassed with how eager he picked up the phone His heart was already beating fast as your sweet voice filled his ears.
"Hey, Ethan!" You smile, placing your assigment and study papers on your bed, as you got yourself settled.
"Hey, y/n." He says, a smile he can never force down appearing on his lips.
"Did you get the new assignement from this morning's lecture?" You ask, as you flip through your pages to find it.
Ethan does the same, putting you on speaker as he placed his phone on the bed. "Yeah...I think so... yes." He says, placing the assignment details ontop of the rest of his work. "Why did Mr. Harold give out papers, instead of just sending it?"
"Ah, he's old, which can sometimes mean old-fashioned, I guess." You say, clicking your pen. "Oh my god, though did you see Sophie?" You chuckle, remembering the way she had tried to flirt with the poor old man, leaning forward as she pushed her breasts together.
"No...Sophie was in today?" Ethan knew of her vaguely as the girl who would fuck for good grades. But his focus had been on you in econ, sparing glances down your body when you weren't looking.
"How could you not notice?" You ask, shifting more comfortably on your bed. "I was scared her tits were gonna fall out."
Ethan stiffened at your words, and not because you had mentioned Sophie's tits, but because the his mind wandered to your own, and how he'd always have to readjust in his seat when you'd wear a tight top. Wondering how they'd feel in his—
"We should get started." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I barely understood Mr. Harold."
"Uh, yeah." Ethan coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What part didn't you get?"
"The third paragraph, where he talks about the inflation and economic growth. His question after confuses me. I'm not sure what he's asking us to answer." You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Ethan furrows his own for an entirely different reason.
For some reason your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants. Christ, not now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, answering your confusion, as you hum with an "ah, that makes makes more sense."
Ethan's mouth has salivated, as all his built up fantasies of you fill his head. "So, when he spoke on analyzing the economy as a system, the list he followed on from..."
Ethan doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much more breathy, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, licking at his cock, as your innocent eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head.
"...he could have meant that these are the elements," you had continued, completely oblivious to Ethan's wandering hand.
He couldnt help it. He palmed his cock, as he listened to you speak. You always spoke so pretty. He could imagine your confused expression as you spoke on your problems. He began to rub himself, restricting himself to just over his pants, as he bit his lip.
He won’t do more. Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy.
His breathing had grown heavier but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions.
“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask. You were there to help each other, not him only help you.
Ethan had to spare a glance at his work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need.
His cock was rock hard, and his mind was beginning to cloud over with lust, and want for you. “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching the button of his jeans, as he pulled the zipper down.
It was shameful, but he just couldn’t help it. “Okay, do you mind if I ask another question?—sorry I just saw it now.” You ask as Ethan absentmindedly nods wanting to hear you speak more, before he manages a ‘sure’, trying to act casual.
“Great, thank you,” and you began to speak on either the 8th or 9th paragraph as Ethan stuck his hand in his pants, feeling his pre-cum practically staining his boxers.
He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you deep throat him immediately. Ethan’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm.
His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Ethan grows lost in your tone as his cock twitches.
“Ethan?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure.
“Yes?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling.
“Are you…okay?”
Your question makes him halt-much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”
“You sound out of breath.” You say, behind the line trying to think of why. Because he can’t be running, he’s in his apartment with his papers on his bed like you.
“I’m not.” He coughs.
You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Ethan’s lips. You had to be mistaken, because that noise sounded like one due to pleasure.
Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…
“Ethan.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again. “What are you doing?”
Ethan curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying. Going over the study. Like you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s want to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm.
“Ah huh.” You hum, unconvinced. “And you’re sure you have no questions?”
“No. No, I’m all good.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly began to stroke himself again, his cock angry.
“No questions for me?” You ask now instead. Slowly coming to the definite realisation of Ethan jerking off.
“What do you mean?” Ethan asks, your tone going straight to his cock.
“Oh, nothing.” You hum, before you intentionally make your voice come out breathier, seeing what he’ll do. “Did I mention how nice your hair looked this morning?”
Ethan’s breath hitches as his hand quickens around his cock, seeming to have a mind of its own. “N—no.”
“Oh. Well, it looked really good, I just wanted to run my fingers through it constantly.” You pause hearing Ethan’s surprised whimper. “But that’s weird isn’t it, sorry.” You were teasing him now, your study forgotten.
“I—it’s not weird. You’re not weird. At all.” Ethan’s words are broken up by his panting.
“Aw, that’s so sweet, Ethan.” You hum, making Ethan’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke.
“Y—yeah?” His eyelids have begun to feel heavy.
“Yeah. Your always so sweet to me. Helping with my study, making sure I have a seat in econ.” You shift on your bed, debating on if you go bolder. “You’re also very good at studying, hence why you never have too many questions. You’re also very good at teaching, making sure I know what I’m doing. Your just such a good boy.”
Ethan chokes on a moan. This makes his eyes widen, because you definitely heard that. So he quickly goes to speak. “T—that’s sweet. Really sweet. You’re…really sweet.” His tone is still breathy though, as he imagines how sweet you really are…or taste.
“Am I?” You tease, as Ethan’s rapidly nods on the other line.
“Always so…sweet.” He says, his tone unintentionally dropping an octave.
“But I never seem to be able to help you.” You say. “I’m the one always asking questions.”
“That’s fine.” Ethan says. “I like hearing you talk.” He pauses, shit. “I—I mean, I like hearing your questions because then I can help you.”
A smile had edged your lips. “But that’s exactly it. You help me…” you drift off, speaking closer to the phone. “Let me help you.”
Ethan didn’t know what you meant but the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm. “W—with what?”
“Oh, you know, with many things.” You say, appearing innocent again. “One specifically would be your tension.”
Ethans chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My…tension?”
“Yeah.” You say lightly. “I’m very good at massaging.” You hold back a chuckle as you tease him.
“You’d give me a massage?” In Ethan’s mind that’s the closest he could get to you.
“Yeah.” You say. “I’d start with your shoulders of course, getting essential knots out.” You fake normalcy in the conversation.
“Then I might let my hands drift down your back.” You pause. “You’d have to lie down, so I could get a good angle.”
Ethan’s mouth has opened in pleasure at the thought of you touching him on the bed.
“I’d have to ask where feels the nicest, before I’d drag my hands down your body.” Your words were growing bolder and if Ethan’s mind wasn’t hazed over with lust he might have been able to pick out your innuendoes.
“Really?” He asks, his stroking quickening.
“Yeah. Though, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.”
Ethan moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?”
“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable—“
“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.”
You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear Ethan’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.”
Ethan nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?”
“Yeah, is that okay?”
“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release.
“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making Ethan’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.”
At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.”
“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through Ethans body. “W—what?”
“Come to my apartment.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm.
“No. You should—should come here.” He says breathlessly.
“Do you prefer yours?”
Ethan just wants to see you on his sheets, all his fantasies having happened on this bed. He wanted to make one a reality, even if it was just a massage.
“I just have all the extra study stuff here.” Not that he couldn’t easily bring it, but he ignored that, and so did you.
“See, you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you.
When the pleasure slowly ceased he heard words he never thought you’d utter. “Maybe next study session I could jerk you off?”
“W—what?” He chocked. Fuck, of course you had heard him. By the end he was being pretty obvious.
“Yeah, Ethan.” You grin. “Let me help relieve some tension.”
© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
#. ( archived )#the ethan effect#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry x you#jack champion#jack champion x reader#scream#scream 6#jack champion x y/n#ethan landry smut#jack champion smut#scream smut#scream 6 smut#scream vi
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DP x DC story idea y'all:
So the JL has some big ass problem, like really big, like dimension-destroying-big.
And as a last resort they want to find some entity powerful enough to save them and strike a deal (John Constantine-idea tm)
But where do they find something like that?
The infinite realms. John regrets his idea already. That is a fucking suicide mission. But what other option is there?
The whole JLD works really hard to find a way to the infinite realms and after searching every and all books about death magic they manage to find a portal.
It is decided that the Trinity plus Constantine should go in, try to find a powerful being and strike a deal at any costs.
So they go in. And land somewhere in the middle of nowhere, floating in the Ghost Zone.
They meet a random ghost and ask if they know of a being powerful enough to save a whole ass dimension from destruction. The ghost says the most powerful being is the ghost king who reigns over everything dead, then gestures vaguely in some direction and leaves.
So the the group moves in that direction and on the way encounter all kinds of bizarre beings (demons, ghosts, jinns, alpe and the like) getting in all sorts of trouble (walker's prison, some demon with shares of John's soul etc) and only escaping by a hair's width every time, getting new directions and very concerning and sometimes contradicting information on the ghost king from more amicable beings in between (not every ghost knows of the new king yet). The whole journey to the king's castle is very the wizard of oz like.
And then finally. The castle comes into view. All the heroes (and Constantine) are exhausted and desperate. As they come near the tension is rising. Hopefully the king is merciful like that one ghost said and not a ruthless tyrant like the other said. They've almost reached the castle when -are those disco lights coming from the windows?!?! And can anyone else hear Caramelldansen??
There's a big ass houseparty at the ghost king's fortress.
They can just walk into the courtyard unbothered. There's also a ton of beings partying hard and almost nobody even spares the JL ensemble a glance.
They, once again, ask some random drunk? beings for the Ghost king and, once again, get directed on a wild goose chase across the courtyard several times, to no avail. Finally, they find someone who at least looks human and alive.
It's Jazz. She's just finished with her mid-terms and for once not being the responsible one. She earned this. But now there's a group of weirdly dressed humans? asking for her brother. Yeah, she hasn't seen him in a while, she'll go looking with them. Last she's seen him he was near one of the snack bars.
Together they make their way over. But he isn't there. The Leaugers could fucking scream! They went through hell just for the tiny chance to save their world and now they can't even find the Ghost king!
But then the young red haired woman with them looks around. narrows her eyes. pulls up the table cloth.
And finally there he is! The ghost king! In full regalia! With a flaming crown hovering over his head, a mantle made out of galaxies draped over his shoulders and the ring of rage on his left hand ... and it's a teenager. Passed out drunk.
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Idk i just thought: what would a normal teenager do if they had a gigantic castle in another dimension and no parents to reign them in? Houseparty.
"I mean what's the worst that could happen? Death of alcohol poisoning? Not fucking likely" -Danny
#danny phantom#DC#justice league#batman#wonder woman#superman#john constantine#dc x dp#dp crossover#dp x dc prompt#dps headcanons#jazz fenton#ghost king danny
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hi mae!! i was wondering if you’d write poly!marauders x reader with some angst? maybe they’ve had an argument (they say something really hurtful to her) and reader wants to be left alone and they assume that she wants to break up w them? maybe some begging/pleading on their side pls
totally okay if you don’t want to write this<3 have a lovely day ml 🫶🏽
Hi sweetheart! Thanks for requesting and hope you're having a lovely day too :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words
It had started laughably small. Tensions had to have been high for awhile, you must just not have been able to see it, because you were all so ready to go off. Sirius had remarked that you’d left the living room a mess. You’d shot back that if he’d offered to make dinner, you might’ve had time to tidy. It had devolved into an argument about why you were so busy in the first place, even though he knew you’d been absolutely mobbed at work lately. You’d been getting more and more piled onto your plate, and you weren’t sure whether the higher-ups were testing you to see about giving you a promotion (or, Merlin forbid, firing you) or whether it was just a busy time of the year, but it didn’t matter because you loved your job and you’d do whatever it took to keep it. It didn’t matter to Sirius, either, apparently; what mattered was that you’d been spending more time at work, and when you weren’t there, you took your work home, always bent over your laptop instead of spending time with your boyfriends.
When Remus and James tried to smooth things over, they only ended up getting dragged in too, and soon you were fighting about whether you should tell your bosses you couldn’t handle your workload (you’d rather cut off your left foot) and how they didn’t understand how important this was to you (they claimed they did) and that you were prioritizing work over your relationship and that they were needy for making you choose like that, and on and on with voices rising and tensions heightening until Sirius all but yelled, “I don’t care what happens to you at work, you shouldn’t want that more than you want us!”
You’d gone quiet. Everyone had. Remus and James seemed to know that he’d crossed a line with you, but they didn’t correct him. Their silence was clear enough: they agreed.
Your body couldn’t decide between anger and anguish, and you’d worried that if you kept going, you’d scream at them. So you’d just said, “I can’t do this,” and left.
You’ve been walking around for over an hour now. Aimless circles around your neighborhood and the surrounding streets. Lamplights are flickering on as twilight turns to darkness, the nighttime breeze cooling the teartracks on your cheeks. You keep turning the whole thing over in your head, but you can’t stop fixating on the last thing Sirius said and the other boys’ wordless agreement. Selfishly, it’s the first part that troubles you most: I don’t care what happens to you at work. Your work is endlessly important to you. Before you met the boys, it was nearly the only thing you were living for. You’d put years into school and menial, boring jobs to get the one you have now. You love what you do. Do they not understand that about you? You don’t get how they can claim to care about you, and not care about this thing that is at the core of who you are.
Then there’s the second part. You shouldn’t want that more than you want us. As a statement, it’s true. But the implication is dead wrong. Because you don’t care more for your job than you do them. If you had to lose one or the other, you’d give up your job in a heartbeat. But as far as you know, you’re only at risk of losing one right now, so why can’t your boyfriends just sit tight for a couple weeks while you fight to keep it?
You’re hurting for yourself and for them, because how could they think that you don’t care about them? You feel like your heart is being cleaved in two.
When you arrive back at your apartment, you still don’t know what to do, but you feel calmer. You don’t really expect anyone else to have cooled down—Sirius especially, whose anger ignites quickly and takes time to burn out—and you don’t particularly want to keep arguing, but you will, until you all see each other more clearly. You’re ready to explain yourself better, to soothe and smooth over whatever you can.
But when you open the door, the silence startles you. It’s like someone has sucked the air from your apartment, the atmosphere stale and morose.
James turns from where he’s sitting on the couch, eyes widening. “You’re back.”
Remus appears, sitting up from where he’d been lying next to James, and Sirius emerges from your bedroom. Each of their eyes look as red as yours probably do, and the sight makes your heart feel heavy in your chest.
“Y/N,” Sirius says, and it’s not so much the croakiness of his voice as the fact that he’s not trying to hide it that raises alarms with you, “I’m sorry. I went too far, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”
“It’s okay,” you say without thinking, even though it hadn’t felt okay at the time. You’ll say anything to get him to snap out of whatever this is, the misery in his eyes unfamiliar and terrifying.
“We shouldn’t have asked you to choose between us and your work,” Remus says, his features tight with something that looks like grief. “Do what you need to, just stay here with us, please.”
You hesitate, feeling like there’s something you’ve missed. You hadn’t been gone too long, had you? Had they been worried you’d been hurt or something?
Before you can ask, James reaches out a hand to you over the top of the couch, and you step forward to take it, giving him a reassuring squeeze as his eyes well with tears. “We love you so much,” he says, uncharacteristically quiet, and you feel like someone has plunged a knife into your middle and twisted. “It’d feel so stupid to break up over the living room being messy. Let’s just talk this over, yeah?”
Your hand goes limp in his. “Break up?”
You get only blank looks in reply.
“You’re breaking up with me?”
“Wh—dovey, no,” Remus sputters. “But aren’t…we thought you were breaking up with us. Weren’t you?”
“Of course not!” You press a hand to your chest, just to make sure your heart’s still going in there. “I was upset, but not…I was never going to leave you over it.”
“You said you couldn’t do this anymore,” Sirius says, almost disbelieving.
“I meant the argument, not our relationship.”
“Oh, fuck.” James throws his head back on the couch cushions with a relieved exhale. “So we’re all still together, just in a fight?”
“Just in a fight,” you agree, and you’ve never been happier to admit to conflict. You start towards Sirius, throwing your arms around his neck, and you can feel his shock as he stiffens, then brings his hands to your back. “I’m sorry too,” you say, letting go after a moment and turning so you can see all of your boys. “I didn’t mean to make you all feel like you weren’t important to me. I just wanted you to understand that my job is important to me, too. And I’m getting really scared that if I can’t keep up, I could lose it.”
“Sweetheart.” James beckons, and you go into his arms, settling in. These are the kinds of arguments you like best; the ones where you all listen to each other, working towards a solution as people who love each other instead of opponents. “We don’t want you to lose your job either.”
“I don’t think this busy season will last much longer,” you say earnestly. “And if it does, I promise I’ll talk to someone and try to get a lighter workload. Do you guys think that you could give me a couple more weeks? I’ll try to be around more, but I just want…it’s important to me to be sure I’m going to be able to keep my job.”
Sirius huffs, going to sit in the chair across from you. “Well, it sounds so fucking rational when you put it like that.” He cracks a smile, and you return it hesitantly. “Yeah, I think I can manage a couple weeks. What about you guys?”
Remus hums his assent, and James nods eagerly, clearly ready to be done with the conflict portion of the evening.
“Sorry I scared you,” you say, guilt still a dull ache in your chest. You kiss James’ cheek, and the skin there tastes faintly salty, but a dimple forms as he smiles at you. “I’m not going to break up with you guys, ever, but I swear that if I’m ever thinking about it, I’ll be more explicit.”
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders angst#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders oneshot#marauders era#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fanfic#marauders fic#the marauders#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#angst#angst with a happy ending#poly!marauders hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort
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super duper pretty — kim hongjoong
in which you haven’t heard from him in years but a single drunk phone call ends up with you tangled up in your bed.
musician!kim hongjoong x fem!reader. genre. angst, suggestive, friends to lovers. warnings. drinking, tension, kissing, suggestive content. wc. 4k. rating. pg-13.
lilo’s notes. AGHDHSJDJJAJDJSJDHSJS GRRRR WOOF WOOF AWOOOO GR AHHHDHDHDHHDS
listening to. right here, chase atlantic.
masterlist.
you weren’t someone hongjoong could bring himself to think about much these days. despite having known each other since childhood and been best friends, he hadn’t spoken to you in three years, too caught up in his thriving music career.
album, tours, interviews, collaborations. it all kept him busy and away from you. his chase for stardom had him isolating and distancing himself from friends and family. and, sure, it was shitty, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the people he was told would hold him back. he didn’t have time to regret it. regretting leads to stagnating and stagnating would lead to the end of his career.
that’s not to say he didn’t miss you. of course, he did. but on the last day he spoke to you, it ended in an argument he didn’t have the energy to resolve. so, he left. he left you.
him not having time to regret it was more an ideal rather than a truth.
in reality, he regretted leaving you more than anything else.
but three years later he still hadn’t talked to you, afraid it would ruin his pride if he came running back to you. yet he couldn’t deny how he felt like he was on top of the world, the best producer and rapper in the scene. his career was thriving and his newest album topped charts across alll platforms. when all the interviews and promotions were finally over, he decided to treat himself ot a little celebration, renting a club in town and inviting every major celebrity he had connections too.
the night was spent dancing and throwing back shot after shot until he could barely stand. he enjoyed it at first, but slowly the effects of the colourful drinks made him feel much too hot and cramped in the sea of dancing bodies. making sure no one noticed, he escaped through a back door into the cold, fresh air. he felt the sudden urge to leave, but in his drunken state it would be difficult to navigate his way home.
without thinking, he slumped against the red brick wall and pulled out his phone, dialing a number he’s always know by heart. it rang three times before the person picked up.
“hello?”
hongjoong didn’t realise how much he missed your voice until you uttered that word so softly. he could picture you somewhere in your appartment, maybe in the kitchen to get a snack, tilting your head in confusion at the unfamiliar number.
“hey,” he really didn’t know what else to say, staring intently at a leaf on the ground.
you went completely silent on the other end and for a moment he thought you’d hung up. but, eventually, you spoke again, only this time a certain firmness to your voice.
“what do you want?”
“come pick me up,” his words slurred and molded together and you had a hard time unnderstanding him, sat stifly on your couch, “please, i need you to pick me up. just… just this once?”
you didn’t know what to say. you wanted to scream and yell at him and demand a proper explanation as to why he just walked out of your life like it was nothing, but at the same time, you wanted to sob and confess how much you missed him.
still, you couldn’t help but ask, “what the hell happened, hongjoong?”
"i- i'm drunk," he slurred, sounding even worse than before as he shuffles his feet on the floor pebbled floor. "like, really, really drunk," he insisted with a quiet groan, but you already came to that conclusion. "come pick me up… please?"
you stood up from your couch, pacing around you living room as you listened to him speak before stopping by your window and looking out into the night sky. he was the last person you thought would call you at this house, not having heard from him in three years. but here he was, drunk and begging you to pick him up from god knows where.
“fine.” you said simply, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you grabbed your coat from the entrance of your apartment and slipped on some shoes, not bothering to change out of your nightwear. “where are you?”
“um,” he looked around. the back door led into an alley, but if he walked off to the right he’d be right by the entrance. with his free hand supporting him on the wall, he did his best to get there. “outside the, uh, club,” he explained, though it was really helpful, “by the-” he cut himself off with a sigh, resting his forehead against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut in frustation of his lack of clarity, “the red one.”
your eyebrows furrowed at his vague description as you got to your car, getting into the drivers seat and just sitting there until he could give you a proper answer. “the… red… one?”
“it’s got, um,” he looked around the surrounding area, spotting a familiar place just across the street, “in front of that café we used to go to?”
“oh.” you recognised that, hesitating for a moment before starting the car, unwanted memories of the countless hours you spent with him there clouding your thoughts. all the talking and studying and laughing. “find somewhere to sit.”
“okay,” he nodded to himself, taking some steps to a wooden bench and pointing at it as if you could see, “i’m gonna sit on this thingy.” his drunken stupor had him laughing at himself as he takes the final steps to sit down. he swayed a little but not enough to make him lose balance and fall. once sat, he nodded and grinned at nothing in particular, just proud he was able to manage the simple task you gave him. “i’m sitting.”
“good, great,” you hummed approvingly, holding back a smile at his antics, “now… just hang tight, i’ll be right there, okay?”
“okay.”
it felt good to sit here, he realised with a sigh as he leaned back and tipped his head to look up at the stars. the gentle caress of the night air and the dimmed sounds of the city around him a soothing backdrop to the chaos in his head.
a silence followed his words, tense but not uncomfortable. the red exterior of the cheap club came into view soon enough and you slowed to a stop to park in a free space. you got out of the car and looked around until you found a familiar figure sitting on a bench tucked below a little tree. you hesitated again for a moment before walking to him as slowly as possible, your heart pounding in your chest. he hadn’t noticed you yet, having shut his eyes at some point.
it took you some long moments but you finally pulled yourself together and cleared your throat, making him startle as you muttered a tentative, “hey.”
he glanced toward the sound of your voice, blinking away the drunken haze as he attempted to focus on the world around him. his vision unclear and unfocused as looked up at you, struggling to recognise you for a moment. the bright streetlights made his head ache a little; the world a blur and all he could do was struggle to focus until he could see you properly, the familiar feature snapping him back to reality.
you shifted back and forth on your heels awkwardly, waiting for him to say something as he just stared at you, face flushed and intoxicated. your hair was messy and you wore shorts and a loose light grey sweater. you wondered if he even recognised you, or were you just a stranger to him?
“you came,” he breathed after a while, eyes taking in every detail on you. he focused on you; the way the moonlight caught on your skin, the soft furrow of your brows and subtle downturn of your lips. your eyes, his favourite eyes in the world, looking back at him. “you actually came.”
“you called,” you answered, almost breathless as you also took him in. his style looked a little edgier than when you’d last seen him, though still as chic as ever. short bleached hair, the corners of his sharp eyes smoked out.
“i did,” he nodded, attempting to stand up before slumping back again, “but you actually came.” the alcohol made his words feel heavy, pushing them out in soft sighs as his eyes locked with yours again. he grinned stupidly, “you’re like, pretty.”
you almost laughed at his words, shaking your head lightly, “and you’re like, drunk,” you scoffed jokingly, “come on, it’s late, let me get you home.”
“no, i mean,” he whined, pouting dramatically and now you weren’t sure if the pink tint of his face was from the alcohol or something else, “you’re like super duper pretty.”
unsure of how to respond to his compliment, you only chuckled nervously and offered him a hand to help him get up. “come on.”
he stared at your hand for a few long moments before grasping it and standing up with your assistance. he stumbled a little but caught himself as you led him to the car. your nudged him to get into the passenger seat as you walked around to get into the driver’s.
it was dark in your car, your face dimly illuminated by the screen that displayed a map of the area. you look even prettier in this light, he thought, the sharp shadows making your features stand out that much more. your cheeks soft and round and your eyes sparkling with reflections in a way that made his wander all over you.
neither of you said anything for a while as you sat there. seemingly lost in his drunken daze, he realised how familiar this felt, being there with you, just you and him. everything felt right. he let out a soft hum before leaning back, tilting his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.
“my place is closer than yours,” now that he wasn’t looking at you, you felt comfortable enough to break the silence. finally buckling your seatbelt, you tried to ignore the way butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the thought of his eyes on your body, “you can stay for the night, if you want.”
“do i get the couch?” he turned his head to peer over at you as you start the car, “or…” he giggled, “or… we can share the bed.”
you raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at how flirtatious he was being. “we’ve shared before so, i guess… if the bed is more comfortable for your then i’m fine with sharing it.”
memories of your late night excursions with him rushed back to you and you briefly wondered if he would touch you the same as you laid together. would the feeling of his hand in yours bring you the same comfort? or the protective grip on your back or thigh? you don’t mention any of it.
“let’s just share,” he whispered back. he sounded tired, though if asked he could probably go on a ten page rant of how much he missed being close to you.
he, too, thought of all the night you spent together. the laughs and the touches that felt so real. he remembered how comfortably you would fit in the same bed, laying side-by-side and watching random movies until dawn broke. how easily you’d fall asleep as you shared blankets, face mere inches away from each other but never quite touching.
he wondered if it was possible to relive those times, gazing over at you for a moment before shaking his head and look out the window. those were nothing but drunk fantasies.
“okay,” you whispered back, trying not to look at him, trying not to shiver at the softness of his voice. a little slurred, but still soft.
he was always like that with you. soft.
people would mistake the two of you for lovers more often than not when they first met you, but it was always denied with flushed cheeks and awkward giggles. and it was true. no matter what was said or done, you always remained just that. best friends. it was for the better, made things much less complicated. especially when he took off and you never saw him again.
at least, until now.
the silence in the car was palpable, broken only by quiet breaths and the low hum of the car. it was a calm silence, mildly comfortable despite how heavy it felt, weighted down by all the things unsaid.
eventually, you slowed to a stop and pulled into your parking space in front of the apartment building you lived in. turning off the car, you got out and beelined for the entrance. he knew where to go anyway, not looking back at him as you led the way to your apartment.
the door opened to your living room and kitchen area, just a little messy since you weren’t expecting anyone to come over anytime soon. you made quick work of shucking off your jacket and placing your shoes aside, telling him to wait for a moment before you disappeared through a hallway he knew led to your bedroom.
you returned quickly, a pile of folded clothes in your arms that you held out to him, explaining he had left them a while ago. his body itself didn’t change much, so you figured they should still fit. you didn’t want his sweaty dishevelled suit on your bedsheets.
as he changed, you paced back and forth in your bedroom nervously, thinking about all the possible things that could happen. but you stopped quickly when you heard the bathroom door unlock, practically jumping to lay in bed. you tucked yourself into one side of the large bed, covers pulled up to your chin as you face away from him.
you heard him pause for a moment before you felt the bed dipping behind you and the covers shifting as he blanketed himself too. despite there being a considerable amount of space between you, you still felt him body heat brushing against yours in the thick silence. even though you can’t see him, you knew for a fact he’s probably laying on his back to look at the little glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck to my ceiling years ago and never took down.
you sighed and whispered, “hongjoong?”
“uh-huh?” he hummed, eyes closed for a moment before he turning his head to glance at your back.
you squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before finally asked the thing you’d been dying to know. “did you ever miss me?”
“more than anything,” he breathed and you felt him shift to lay on his side, facing you. he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold you like he used to. his voice held a hint of melancholy but he didn’t elaborate more.
you turned too after a moment, not taking a second to notice just how close he was, the thick white covers shifting slightly from the movement. your voice quivered slightly as you spoke, eyes stinging with welling tears. “i missed you too, you know… i missed you every day since you left and every day i hoped you’d come back. but you never did.”
his heart clenched at you admission, the voice he loved so much threatening to turn into sobs. the truth was, he wanted to, countless nights sat alone, wishing he turned back to knock on your door.
“i-i wanted to,” he stammered, whispering ashamedly.
“it’s fine, i got over it,” you forced yourself to focus on the pillow under his head instead of his handsome face.
his brows furrowed as you averted your gaze, eyes following yours even if you refused to look at him. he knew you well enough to know when you lied. he knew you well enough to know you didn’t get over it. didn’t get over him. he mumbled, “did you really?”
your lip trembled at his question but you kept your gaze locked on the white fabric, pressing them together to get them to stop as a few tears spill over the corners of your eyes.
you shook your head, your little voice breaking with overwhelming emotions, “n-no, i didn’t.”
you shifted your look to his hesitantly, your skin tingling from his warmth. your eyelids fluttered as you tried to hold back the tears.
"don’t," he whispered, thumb slipping down to caress your jaw. his eyes searched yours, your eyes wide with sadness and something he couldn’t quite understand. "don’t hide it. you don’t always have to be so strong. not in front of me.”
those words snapped something in your mind, no longer able to swallow down the lump in your throat as you threw yourself into his inviting arms, yours wrapping around his neck as you sobbed into the slope of his shoulder.
“why- why did you leave, w-why didn’t you come back... p-please, i need to know.”
he didn’t expect the sudden break down, but still held you close. one hand at the back of your head, the other holding you by your waist, your bodies pressed against each other and he let his lips press against the top of your head, making you shiver.
he rubbed your back, letting your tears fall wherever they man, muttering reassurances iagainst your hair. his faint scent of whiskey and mint mingled with your vanilla shampoo, his eyes shutting at the oddly comforting mix of smells. you felt him press repeated kisses to your messed up hair.
sobs racked your body for a few more minutes before the tears stopped falling and your breaths evened. you nodded against him, pulling your head away from him to look up at his face, at his eyes. the hand at the back of your head slipped forward to cup your cheek again, brushing his finger along your skin. he traces your cheek bone and along your harline down to your jaw, his eyes shifting between yours in disbelief that his skin was on yours once again.
“i was afraid,” he admitted, barely a whisper, “i was afraid that if i came back, i’d fall for you more… and then i wouldn’t have been able to spend a day without you, wouldn’t be able to chase after my dream. but… at the time, i didn’t recognise you were part of it, you know, my dream.”
your breath hitched as the words registered, “you- what?”
you cut him off with something you'd been wanting to do for a while; you kissed him, hands holding either side of his face. his eyes are widened in surprise, though he didn’t hesitate to lean into the kiss, returning it as quickly as you did it. his hands tightened around you, pulling you as close as he could.
your lips fit against eachother so perfectly, like the lego sets you’d force him to build with you when you were younger, every curve and edge of your bodies slotting together naturally. he got lost in the sensation of finally getting what he dreamed of, a hand slipping below the hem of your shirt to hold onto your bare waist, just wanting to feel closer to you.
his mouth tasted of exactly what he smelled like, mint and traces of whiskey, whimpering against his lips as you welcomed the taste and the touch. your whimper unlocked something, the kiss growing more urgent, restlessly pushed against each other without air left between. you could barely breathe, but you didn’t care as long as his lips stayed locked on yours for as long as possible.
but eventually, he bit down on your bottom lip ever so slightly before pulling away, catching his breath as you caught yours. your chest heaving as you refilled your lungs with air, face flushed from the realisation of what you just did and from the thought of what else you might do.
he glanced down at your swelling parted lips, jimmy coated by your mixed saliva, his pupils blown wide with desire.
“i wanna…” he mumbled, breath unsteady, “i want to…”
he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, at least not until he noticed the way you peered up at him expectantly with that curious gaze. “what is it, joong?”
that nickname. he hadn’t heard it in a while. three years, actually, because you were the only one that called him that. his eyes searched yours.
“i want to do that again,” he admitted, cheeks warming, “and again and again and again… and so much more than just that.”
your breath hitched, intestines tied into knots as you struggled to figure out what you should say. the truth was that you wanted that too, wanted to feel his lips and hands all over your body. but, as his breath fanned over your face and you caught the traces of alcohol folded into the smell of mint gum, you were reminded that there was a thin possibility he didn’t mean any of it.
“you’re drunk, joong… it’s better if we don’t.”
he frowned, his grip on you loosening. “but you want to, don’t you?” he countered, “you know you want this too, so why not?”
“i just-“ you paused to sigh, continuing with an even tone, “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”
“i meant every goddamn thing i said,” his brows furrowed for a moment and he squinted, trying to emphasise his point, “so, i can’t regret this. i can’t regret you.“
you bit your lip, thinking carefully before sighing, the tension leaving your body as you played with the string of his hoodie.
“how about this…” you suggested, speaking slowly, “if you can wake up and tell me you remembered all this, then we can see where this goes.”
“and if i don’t, you’ll never mention in again?”
you nodded, slightly anxious as you wait for him to agree. it didn’t take too long, seemingly an acceptable compromise for him as he nodded.
“okay,” he agreed, his hand on your waist beneath your shirt tightening once again, “let me just kiss you one more time though, i won’t be able to sleep if you don’t.”
you laughed at his silly excuse, forehead dropping against his shoulder for a moment before lifting to look at him again with a grin that made you feel so stupid and in love. “fine, just one more time.”
networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
#cromernet#wonderlandnet#atzhouse#cultofdionysusnet#pirateeznet#ateez x reader#ateez#hongjoong x reader#hongjoong imagine#hongjoong imagines#hongjoong fluff#hongjoong angst#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez smut
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"𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫"
synopsis: Your boyfriend, Aventurine, gets drunk and ruins an important event for your other boyfriend, Veritas, and he pays the price while you receive an award.
tags: threesome, cuckholding(?), overstimulation, rough, vulgar, degradation, praise, bondage, toys
wrd cnt: 1.1k
a/n: screaming wish it was me :(
The business party you attended on behave of your partners had been long and tiring, but finally, you were all back home in your comfortable penthouse. As the doors closed behind you, the tension in the air was palpable, and the ride in the car was the worst. Aventurine had….misbehaved, at the party, causing quite a scene and embarrassing both you and Dr. Ratio in front of their colleagues.
“You were supposed to behave tonight, Aventurine,” Dr. Ratio's voice was cold and filled with disappointment as he approached the coat rack.
“But...but I couldn't help it. The champagne was just so good and everyone was having such a good time,” he tried to explain, but Veritas expression didn't soften.
“You know the rules. Misbehaving has consequences, this was an especially important night for my project” he said, their tone leaving no room for argument. Aventurine's eyes widened as they realized what was coming.
Meanwhile, you stood to the side, watching the exchange with a mix of arousal and concern. You knew what was about to happen, and you couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through your veins. But at the same time, you couldn't help but worry for Aventurine.
“Hey- what are you doing….” Your blonde lover spouted, “Y/n…help meee, he’s being so- hiccup so mean”.
“Y/n, unlike you, knows to behave when she needs to. If only you were more like her.” Your other boyfriend says, as he sits Aventurine down on the a chair, his languid body wobbling from his intoxication.
Aventurine's voice trembled in fear and anticipation. “Okay- I’m sorry, but what is this for”
Without another word, Dr. Ratio marched over to a nearby shelf and picked up a small remote. He had tied up the drunk man well, hands behind his back and legs spread apart, an attachment on his crotch.
He pressed a button, and a loud buzzing noise filled the room. You recognized it as the sound of a vibrator.
“Since you couldn't behave in public, you'll have to behave here,” Dr. Ratio replied coldly as they approached Aventurine with the remote in hand. “You can enjoy the sensation while you watch me take care of someone else who can follow the rules.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Dr. Ratio turned to you and pulled you into a passionate kiss. His lips were demanding and possessive as his hands roamed your body, reminding you that you belonged to him right now, him alone. You moaned into the kiss, eagerly responding to his warm touch.
You felt Aventurine's eyes on you, and you opened your eyes to see him staring at you with a mix of arousal, jealousy, and frustration. He were visibly straining against their restraints as the vibrator worked its magic on his cock.
“Are you ready for a reward?” Dr. Ratio asked you, breaking the kiss and turning to Aventurine. He ran a hand down your body and reached between your legs, finding you already wet with desire.
'Yes, Veritas- ,' you moaned, feeling Aventurine's eyes on you as Dr. Ratio's fingers danced over your clit.
“Very good,” Dr. Ratio said, his voice full of satisfaction as he pushed you down onto the couch infront of your tortured other.
Slowly, he’d remove your shirt, squeezing your tits before taking your bra off. Mouth clasped onto your nipple, he’d give Aventurine some glances, smiling against your skin every now and then as he watched his legs start shaking.
Once your panties were off, Veritas picked you up, and held you against his chest, opening your legs and letting Aventurine get a look at your glistening cunt, getting rubbed and fingered by Veritas.
You held onto him tight, moaning breathlessly as he prepared your hole, whispering dirty things in your ear from behind.
“Feels good baby? You’re so wet already, look at our little mut over there…He’s already came twice it seems.”
He chuckled, kissing the nape of your neck as he feels his cock almost rip the seems of his pants under you.
“Fuck- Can you just….Im so- so sorry please Veritas…”
With Aventurines pleas, your lover only laughed.
He flipped you over on your back to the cushion, spreading your legs as he takes his cock out; slapping your wet pussy with the tip.
“Mmm- fuck…you’re such a good girl, you really deserve this. Unlike some people.”
You gasped when you felt the tip go inside, and after every inch after that.
Veritas was gentle in preparing you, but not gentle when fucking you, especially with all his anger for your other boyfriend. He gripped your waist hard, and thrusted into you so deep, you practically screamed his name.
He snapped at Aventurine, who’s now fully in tears from overstimulating, cumming his brains out and watching you get fucked like you’re doing the same.
“Look at you…Pathetic. You could have taken her other hole but you just had to be an idiot.”
Aventurine watched with a mix of arousal and torturous anguish as Ratio fucked you, making you writhe with pleasure.
The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the buzzing of the vibrator. Aventurine's eyes were locked on you, his own cock straining against the vibrator as he was forced to watch.
You look at Aventurine, taking small glances of his cock covered in his own cum.
“Don’t look at him, he can’t save you, or himself.” Veritas said, grabbing your face and making you look at him.
You cried out in pleasure as he pounded into you. You were lost in the bliss of his touch, and Aventurines eyes locked onto your body made everything so much more pleasurable; watching his leaky cock.
Dr. Ratio's pace quickened, and soon you were both teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With one final, powerful thrust, he sent you both over the edge, your bodies shaking with pleasure. He filled you up to the brim, so much cum oozing out of your hole.
Veritas picked you up quickly, and held your back against his chest, opening your legs and carrying them infront of Aventurine; still strapped to the chair but now recovering as Ratio finally retired the vibrator.
He tries to catch his breathe, looking up to see your spread apart cunt in his face, carried by Veritas.
“Clean her up. It’s all you’re getting tonight.”
With hunger, your starved boyfriend took your cunt into his mouth, hands still behind him as he pushed his face into you, tongue cleaning up Veritas’ mess.
#jo’s posts#hsr#honkai star rail#hsr smut#honkai star rail smut#aventurine x y/n#aventurine#aventurine smut#dr ratio#dr ratio smut#veritas smut#veritas#smut
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📂Op men + sitting on their lap.
Featuring: Zoro & Ace, GN!reader
Warning: Suggestive, established relationship
Note: I got carried away😭
Zoro
The bar you walked in was crowded with people and your eyes searched for the figures of your crew and your grumpy boyfriend. You had left to verify something on the ship, but as you expected the crowded bar had little place now for you to sit and enjoy the night too.
You walked around and found your green haired man chatting with the crew and drinking down a bottle of sake. You stopped behind him and softly flicked the back of his head earning a groan from him as he slightly turned in your direction.
-Oh you’re back, I was almost gonna go after you.
He said with a light smile. You smiled back and rolled your eyes at him.
-Yeah sure and you would’ve gotten lost the moment you would’ve stepped outside of this place.
-I’m not that bad with direction.
-Yes you are that bad, that’s not even out to debate.
Nami retorted in your défense with an annoyed look.
-Agree.
Sanji followed after exhaling a cloud of smoke.
-How about you stay out of this ero-cook?
Zoro growled as he leaned his body over the table and gave Sanji an annoyed glare.
-He’s right though baby.
You chuckled as you put your hands on his shoulders to calm his tension.
-Oi, Y/n !
Luffy screamed out your name in excitement in between two bites. You looked over your captain and furrowed your eyebrows waiting for him to say something.
-Why are you standing up? Everyone else is sat!
-Oh, well the bar is pretty packed. There isn’t any chair left…
-it’s okay, come sit on my lap.
-huh?!
You replied shocked. Zoro was never the type to introduce PDA and you were sure it wasn’t the alcohol that was affecting him. Your heart fluttered at the idea of him growing comfortable enough with you and your relationship to be more affectionate with you in public. It was a small gesture but coming from him, you felt warm just at the idea of sitting on his lap.
He didn’t let you have much time to think about it as he took your hand and pulled your body near him to grab your waist and dragged you on his lap. You blushed as you looked up at him and he simply smirked back. You looked away a bit shy and fixed your position on his lap, making sure it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for him.
-Since when do you have the courage like this to pull me into your laps in public, you teased him under your breath so only he could hear.
He emptied what was left in his bottle and looked back at you.
-Was I supposed to let my pretty lover stood up, wouldn’t be very manly of me.
-Yeah it wouldn’t be..
You nodded as you stole a bite of his food while ignoring how his nickname gave you butterflies. He shifted slightly under you to grab another bottle on the table, pressing his large chest on your arm. His hot breath brushing your neck and a secretive low grunt leaving his lips.
You didn’t know if it was because it has been a moment since you two had sex or if your hormones were simply higher that night, but you felt your body getting hot. You grabbed a glass of water on the table and changed your position to face the table. His hands immediately grabbed your hips and he pushed them forward.
-Are you trying to make my dick hard or what. Don’t move like that without telling me, he said annoyed.
As much as his actions were turning you on, the idea of making him hard and then have him fuck you stupid, didn’t even cross your mind…well until he directly asked you.
You looked over your shoulder with now a mischievous look and smiled at him.
-I wasn’t, but now the idea doesn’t sound so bad.
-Y/n…
-What~ little fun won’t kill you.
You said while pushing your hips a little bit against his bulge. You tried to be as discreet as you could be, but Usopp was catching up on what was happening and was giving you two a dirty glare.
Zoro wasn’t going to fold so easily so he just pushed your body to sit on only one of his lap.
-Now, be good and I will see what I can do for you later.
If only he knew he was in for a long night.
Ace
You sigh as you knock on the door of the infamous commander who stole your heart. You barely saw him all day as a mission was approaching and he was looking through everything, making sure the plan would go well.
He quickly showed up at dinner to grab his food, gave you a kiss on your forehead and ran to meet White-beard who had asked for him and few others commanders. You knew it wasn’t his type to barely eat, so you decided to check up on him and grab some food for him before the kitchen closes.
-Who is it ?
You hear his muffled voice filled with exhaustion.
-It’s me, I brought you some food.
-Come in
You open the door and see your boyfriend’s face lying on top of a pile of papers, tired eyes and a weak smile.
-My saver is here, he speaks in a small voice as he sees the big bag of food you brought. You chuckle as you walk closer to him and pat his dark wavy hair.
-I was worried seeing you barely eat today.
-Im so exhausted, It’s like my brain is going to explode from all the information pops has been feeding me.
-He trusts you with those, so I imagine it’s a blessing and a curse at the same time.
-Yeah, but Marco has been helping me a lot, along with the others, so we are making it a little lighter for each other, he says with a tired chuckle as he pulls your body into his laps. He tucks his head in the crook of your neck and let a tired sigh as he closes his eyes.
-Finish your work quickly so you can go to sleep. You are about to fall unconscious on those papers, you whisper softly as you caress his hair.
-Mmmm don’t want toooo, he mumbles childishly against your neck making you giggle.
-Aceee, quickest you finish, quickest you’re free , my love.
He leans back into his chair and stares right into your eyes. They glitter as he looks at you, giving away that he’s planning something.
-I will if you keep me company, he retorts with a huge grin.
You furrow your eyebrows and nod, not seeing anything wrong with it. You haven’t spent much time with him anyway, so that seemed like a good idea. You are about to stand up to go lay on his bed, when his large arms firmly keep you in place.
-But you have to stay on my laps. I want you close to me.
-Ace, you know you’re not gonna get any work done with me on your laps.
-Why not
-Because we both know how that ended up last time, you roll your eyes and squint them at him as you put your hands on his chest to free yourself. He softly put them away and leave a quick kiss on your lips.
-Maybe that’s the type of work I wanna do, he replies with a smirk.
-Suddenly, you don’t seem so tired.
You tease him with a smile while wrapping your arms around his neck. You gently press your lips against his and you feel his warm hands grip your hips as he kisses you back. You pull away to catch your breath and watch his eyes stare at you with nothing but lust.
-Oh shit, the food! you suddenly remember.
-It’s gonna be our aftercare snack, he announces as he picks you up and put you on his bed.
Yeah, he passed out right after y’all were done :/
He ate the food though when he woke up in the morning :D
#one piece#portgas d ace#portgas ace x you#portgas ace smut#ace one piece#one piece x y/n#one piece x reader#roanoa zoro#zoro imagine#zoro fluff#zoro smut#zoro headcanons#one piece zoro
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